AllFreeNovel
Share Us
With a put-upon sigh, he pushed the door open and hurried to the police cruiser parked directly at the curb. The joys of small-town living.
His pleasant mood was destroyed—obliterated—when he arrived back at the station.
“Chief,” Carol said as he shut the door firmly behind him, “may I have a word?”
“Of course, Carol. Anytime.”
He stopped at her desk, assuming his dispatcher was going to tell him that Lionel Trent was AWOL again, or that Hardy Phinney and Eustis Kurr were at each other’s throats. They seemed to have buried the hatchet recently, but maybe their feud went in cycles?
His stomach sank. It couldn’t be more remains, could it?
“In your office?” she asked.
His stomach twisting into knots, André led the way back to his tiny—but bigger than anyone else’s—office. It was just large enough for an ancient filing cabinet that was too heavy for anyone to move, his metal desk that was probably from the fifties, his chair that thankfully wasn’t, and two exceedingly hard plastic chairs for visitors. They didn’t tend to stay long. He especially enjoyed his view of the holding cells when his door was open.
“What’s up?” he asked as he took off his dripping jacket and hung it up. Luckily, the flooring was tile although it was going to be slippery as snot now.
Carol didn’t answer immediately, which had him glance at her again. She seemed ill at ease.
“Sit down,” he said. “Has something happened? Is it Trent?” Dammit, he needed to quit putting Trent at the bottom of his to-do list. With everything going on, the Trent issue was the last thing on his mind. The truth was that he just wanted Lionel Trent to go away but that wasn’t going to happen.
Carol sat down on the edge of a plastic chair. André sat as well, eyeing his dispatcher.
“No, it’s not Deputy Trent. I... Well, there’s no other way to do this.” She was wringing her hands, twisting her fingers together. Finally, she looked at him. “I’m retiring.”
He stared at the most valuable non-law enforcement officer on his staff. “You’re what?”
“Retiring,” she repeated, firmly this time. “I’m staying through the end of the month though.”
“Retiring?” he repeated as if he had a hearing issue.
“Yes. I am sorry, I know it’s bad timing. But is there ever really a good time?”
André did his best to gather his thoughts. Carol was leaving—and what? Who would he find to take her place?
“I know you must be concerned about the position being open,” Carol continued. “I might have been overstepping a bit, but I’ve reached out to someone I think will be perfect for the role. Obviously, I can’t officially hire him, but I don’t think you’ll find anyone else who will be more dedicated to the role. And he won’t retire on you.”
She looked at André expectantly, as if waiting for him to ask who she had in mind. Of course, he’d hire whoever she thought was best.
“Of course,” he said. “If you think this person is best and they want the job, then let’s get it taken care of. What’s their name?”
“Nicholas Waugh.”
André blinked at Carol, barely resisting the urge to stick his finger in one ear and check if there was wax build-up.
“Nick Waugh,” he said flatly.
“Yes. As I said, I’ve already reached out to him to see if there’s an interest.” Carol leaned forward and the plastic chair made a popping sound. “I’ve known Nick a long time.” She paused to choose her next words. “He can be a bit prickly.”
Fucking understatement.
“But he has a good heart and good instincts. As much as he grumbles, Nick cares about Cooper Springs. And a bonus is that he lives close by.”
Cooper Springs Resort was across the highway and about a quarter mile north of the station. It was convenient. But was Nick Waugh—grouchy, socially challenged, marginally competent chainsaw artist—the right person for the job?
“Somehow, I don’t think I have much choice here.”
“Oh, you do, of course. I think Deputy Trent has a cousin who is unemployed.”
