Russ closed the folder with the legal papers inside and slid it across the table to the mayor. This was not the way he had planned to spend Monday morning. Jim Cameron took a drink from a bottle of water. “Keep it. We’ve got plenty of copies.” Russ retrieved the folder with one finger. He thought of Ethan sleeping in his crib this morning, the first long rays of the sun brightening his silk-shot hair, the light making his skin seem lit from within. It was a nice thought.
Harold Collins’s voice burst his bubble. “Well? When were you going to tell us about this?”
Russ resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Absolutely nothing had broken in the unsub case, both his part-time officers were unavailable, lunch was going to be a candy bar from the vending machine, and he had the mother of all headaches brewing. “As soon as I found out about it. Which was five minutes after I stepped into this meeting.”
The board of aldermen didn’t look as if they’d been given any more notice than he had when he got the urgent message from the town clerk. Ron Tucker was in his garage overalls and Ed Palmer, who owned the Italian Bakery—his mother had been an exotic beauty named Giadella Tremoni—smelled powerfully of flour and butter. Bob Miles, the county’s public works engineer, hadn’t even made it yet. Probably hung up on another one of the never-ending road repair projects blighting Russ’s life.
“I don’t mean the lawsuit,” Harold snapped. “I mean the cause of it. You’ve got one officer accused of tampering with evidence and false imprisonment and another one who appears to have been hanging around cheering him on while he broke the law!”
Russ laid his hands flat on the table, a once-perfect slab of cherry wood that had been scratched and dinged and marred by the coffee cups of forty years of meetings. He felt just like it this morning. “At this point, you know as much as I do, Harold. The incident described in those papers, whatever the truth of it is, wasn’t part of any MKPD action. I won’t know any more until I’ve spoken with my officers. Officer, I mean. Kevin Flynn has gone to the Syracuse Police Department.”
“And isn’t that convenient? He quits and moves halfway across the state within a week of assaulting this”—Harold glanced down at his copy of the document—“Dylan Knox.”
“Alleged assault,” the mayor said. “Let’s not make the plaintiff’s case for them, hmm, Harold?” Harold drew in a breath, but Jim raised his hand. “It’s entirely possible this is a nuisance suit. It wouldn’t be the first time a disgruntled ex-spouse adopts a scorched-earth policy.” Jim, who had met his gloriously Swedish second wife before severing the bonds of matrimony with his first, had personal knowledge of the topic. He turned to Russ. “What do you know about the relationship between Officer Knox and her ex-husband? Is it bad enough for him to try to punish her by lashing out at the entire department?”
Russ thought about the box of old porn tapes that had arrived at the station house last January, courtesy of Dylan Knox and his “production company.” Tapes that had made it explicitly clear how Hadley Knox had earned her living as a twenty-year-old. Tapes that had set up walls of embarrassment and sly speculation between her and the rest of the force.
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I think it is.”
“So you think there’s no basis for this suit? That your officers did nothing wrong?” Ron Tucker sounded hopeful.
Russ was going to have to walk the knife edge with this one. “I have no knowledge of the incident alleged in the suit.”
Alderman Garry Greuling, who had so far sat silently, raised a hand. “No offense, Russ, but that sounds like legalistic weaseling.”
“Let me finish. I don’t have any knowledge of the events described in these papers. But I do know my officers. And I’d stake my reputation on their good conduct. I can’t believe that either of them is in any way at fault here.”
Harold snorted. “Like the good conduct of that feller of yours who put somebody in the hospital.”
“That was a year ago, Harold.” Jim Cameron sounded annoyed. “The investigation justified Sergeant McCrea’s use of force.”
“We’re lucky we didn’t get sued then, that’s all I’m saying. And I’m going to point out again that one of the advantages of going with the state police instead of a pricey local department is that the town’ll be immune from this sort of nonsense.”
Garry Greuling rolled his eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake, Harold, it’s not as simple as that—” And they were off and running. The board had split three to three on dissolving the police department and the topic had become a permanent point of contention among them.
Jim Cameron looked at Russ, tilted his head toward the door, and stood up. Russ followed. They exited the office and Jim shut the door on the wrangling voices.
“I’ll talk to both my officers,” Russ said. “I mean, Officers Knox and Flynn.”
“Do. And let me know what they say. One thing I don’t want is to be blindsided by the plaintiff’s attorneys.”
“Understood.” Russ turned to go.
“Russ.”
He turned back.
“I also hope you understand that I didn’t vote against the police department. I voted to put the question on the ballot, because I think this is something only the residents of the three towns can decide.” He hesitated. “If it weren’t for the budget…”
The budget. Russ knew all about the goddamned budget. “Yeah.”
“Don’t give Harold and the folks who think like him any more reason to want to do away with your jobs, Russ. Get this thing sorted out. Quickly.”
“I will.” Russ paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I hope you understand I’m not fighting the ballot measure to save jobs. I believe in community policing. I believe having local law enforcement right here, responding to peoples’ needs, is the right thing for the town.”
“I know you do.” Jim pointed to the folder in Russ’s hand. “Just make sure that message doesn’t get lost in a nasty legal fight.” He smiled a little. “And it wouldn’t hurt if you got all your cases closed before Election Day.”
“Right.” Russ smiled weakly. He hadn’t updated the mayor’s office on the situation with the dead girl yet. “Get those cases cleared. No problem.”