LITMIR.BIZ

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what happened?”

      “I was out of line, sir,” Gabe said quickly. If he could speed this along, he would. There was no need to convince Gabe of the error of his ways. He’d accepted that he should have handled this differently if he wanted to avoid this lovely autumnal two-week stay in the dullest town in Colorado. The changing leaves were beautiful this time of year, but he’d trade them for some Fort Collins city streets in a heartbeat.

      “I want to know what actually happened,” the chief said, meeting his gaze evenly. “I want your version.”

      Gabe cleared his throat. “Well, sir, my supervising officer ordered me to make an arrest, and I chose to let the perp go.”

      “And why would you defy an order?”

      Why indeed? His supervising officer was a bully and had a personal vendetta against a twenty-year-old kid. The perp had bullied his supervisor’s son in high school, and while Gabe could appreciate the seriousness of bullying, his supervisor’s son wasn’t exactly innocent, either. He was a twit who figured he could get away with anything because his dad was a cop.

      “The perp was caught stealing baby clothes and diapers, sir,” Gabe said. “I talked to him, and he said that his girlfriend needed some extra help in providing for their baby daughter. The perp and the girlfriend are no longer in a relationship, but he was trying to contribute—misguided as it might have been.”

      “So you felt sorry for him,” the chief concluded.

      “I recognized a spark of self-respect in the guy,” Gabe replied. “And I didn’t want to snuff it out.”

      “But it says here that when your supervising officer reprimanded you, that you...had words.”

      Gabe smiled grimly. That was putting it mildly. “That’s the part I regret, sir. I should have kept my opinions about my supervising officer to myself.”

      “So what made you vent?”

      Gabe paused, wondering how much he should say. The chief was regarding him with a look of sincere curiosity on his face.

      “Between you and me, sir?” Gabe said. “The perp wasn’t a complete unknown to my supervisor. He had gone to high school with my supervisor’s son. The perp was a troublemaker from way back, but my supervisor’s son wasn’t exactly an innocent lamb, either. He’s been let off with a warning for numerous infractions over the years because of his father’s position. This one seemed...personal, I guess. And that wasn’t fair. My supervisor’s son is already off to college and he’ll have a bright future despite his youthful mistakes because he got special treatment. The perp? At least he was trying to provide for his child. And by the way, I paid for the merchandise and recommended a warehouse that was hiring.”

      “Do you think he’ll take you up on the sound advice?” Chief Morgan asked.

      Gabe shrugged. “No idea. I wanted him to have the chance.”

      Chief Morgan nodded and made a few notes on his pad. “You were a bit of an underdog here in Comfort Creek when you were a kid, too, weren’t you?”

      “A bit,” Gabe admitted.

      “And do you think your issues with authority stem from that?”

      Issues with authority... Okay, maybe he had a few. “No.”

      Chief Morgan laughed softly. “Tell me about your teenage years here in Comfort Creek.”

      “Not much to tell, sir.”

      Frankly, Gabe wasn’t interested in talking about his personal history. He wasn’t a problem to be fixed, and as the chief had pointed out, he had a pretty solid service record.

      “I knew your grandmother,” the chief added. “She was a good woman. I’m sorry for your loss.”

      His grandmother... She’d been the one to raise Gabe, and while he’d loved her, he’d hated her in equal measure. She’d been a bully, too, but she’d hidden it better. No one would believe that Imogen Banks, pillar of the church and knitter of baby booties, could have been a mean and spiteful woman in private. But she was, and her constant flow of cutting words had torn Gabe to shreds. Her passing didn’t leave the hole in his heart that most people assumed.

      “Thanks.” It was the expected response, and he always provided it.

      “So getting down to business, then,” the chief went on. “I’m going to let you choose between two options. The first option is book work. In the basement, we have all sorts of binders with step-by-step lessons about dealing with our feelings in constructive manners. Or, we could do this another way.”

      Was there really a way to avoid the humiliating book work? He leaned forward and immediately regretted it. He didn’t want to show weakness—an old habit that died hard.

      “Is there another way, sir?” he asked hesitantly.

      “Well...you could carry on doing patrol, keeping an eye on the bridal shop, and during the course of your stay here, you would record fifteen locations around town and your associations with them.”

      “My associations...” Gabe frowned.

      “Memories.” Chief Morgan leaned forward. “I want you to write down fifteen individual memories connected to fifteen individual locations in this community.”

      “That’s rather personal, sir,” Gabe replied.

      “It is.” The chief confirmed. “The thing is, Gabe, you’re one of ours. You were raised in Comfort Creek, and I know that you’re doing your very best to distance yourself from that fact. I have a feeling if you can make your peace with this town, and whatever it is that you hold against us, that your career will benefit.”

      “With all due respect, sir—” Gabe began, but the chief held up his hand and started reading from a page in front of him.

      “‘A bully. A twit. An overcompensating father making up for his pathetic son’s inadequacies. A coward hiding behind a badge’...and a few more turns of phrase that you probably don’t want to hear repeated.” The chief looked up.

      “Yeah...” Those had been his words, pretty much exactly.

      “Are you sure all of that was referring to your supervisor?” the chief asked.

      “I stand by them, sir,” Gabe replied with a sigh.

      The chief met his gaze for a moment and they regarded each other in silence. Then the chief shrugged. “Okay. So you prefer book work. I’m fine with that. I have your first binder set out downstairs.”

      Gabe scrubbed a hand through his mahogany curls. It was in his nature to balk at authority, and if the chief wanted him to take a different path, his first instinct was to put up a fight. But quite honestly, if he had to look down the barrel of two weeks in the precinct basement doing book work, or two weeks trying to track down Harper Kemp’s robbers, he’d vastly prefer the latter.

      “Sir, if it’s all the same, I’d rather take your second option.”

      “Oh?” Chief Morgan raised his eyebrows. “All right then.” He pulled out a small notebook and slid it across the desk. “In that case, this is for you.”

      Gabe picked it up and fanned the pages. It was empty.

      “Thank you, sir.”

      “I’ll leave you assigned to the bridal shop. We’re all going to be keeping an eye on it, and the other local businesses if we’re being targeted. I want you in plainclothes. We don’t want to be too obvious.”

      “Will do.” Gabe rose to his feet and tucked the notebook into his pocket.

      “Welcome back,” Chief Morgan said with a smile. “Wish it could have been more voluntary on your part, but we’re glad to see you all the same.”

      “Thanks, sir.” Gabe headed for the door. It was going

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