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GORDON LISTENED AS Mayor Butler laid out her priorities, stressing, as he’d expected, her relationship with the police department. The two men said nothing, not helping Gordon’s nerves. He should’ve asked for a glass of water.
“I’m not a police officer,” she said, “nor have I ever been one. I trust my Chief of Police knows how to run his department. That being said, of course, Pine Hills has a budget, and as mayor of the city, I’m expected to make sure I can justify all expenses. The city council and I work together. My job is to preside over our meetings, but their input is valued, and most of the time, things run smoothly. Right, gentlemen?”
The two men smiled and nodded. Had they no tongues?
Dare Gordon ask what types of things didn’t run smoothly? He let it go for now. Any time you got two or more people together to discuss something, odds were there would be differences of opinion.
He thought about the presentation he’d have to give to Mapleton’s town council. There were always differences of opinion, quite often vocal ones, with Nelson Manning leading the show.
The mayor continued. “What stands out for me is you moved from a patrol officer to chief. Patrol officers are the backbone of the force. To me, this says you understand how policing works firsthand. I’m sure you’ve done your homework about Pine Hills’ department, and you know we’re also a small force. Our sworn officers are cops first, specialists second.”
Gordon nodded, then added, “That sounds very much like the way the Mapleton department operates. For big cases, we enlist the help of the county sheriff’s department.”
“Then you should be comfortable with the way things work here,” she said.
The mayor had mentioned touring the police department during his stay, so Gordon opted to save his in-depth questions until he could ask the cops. If Mayor Butler was as hands-off as she’d intimated during her remarks, then she might not know much about the inner workings of the police department—who actually did what on a day-to-day basis.
She posed a few typical interview questions, asking how he would handle administrative issues, dealing with the press, budgeting, manpower, and the like. He responded with the way he did things in Mapleton, not what he saw himself doing in Pine Hills. Not until he’d had a chance to see the police department. “Budget is always an issue, and I try to channel funds to help the officers perform their duties,” was as far as he’d go.
“Chuck, Shawn, any further questions?” she said to the men.
Both stood, straightened their ties. The older one spoke at last. “I think we’re fine. Nice meeting you, Chief Hepler. Enjoy the rest of your stay in Pine Hills.”
Another round of handshakes, and the men exited the office.
The mayor went to her desk and plucked a file folder from a rack. “This is the job description, salary range, insurance, benefits—all the nitty-gritty details. Feel free to read it at your leisure. You’ll hear from me within three weeks.”
Gordon took the folder with a simple thank you. No point in saying anything the mayor could interpret as his wanting the job. Or not.
“Until tonight, then. I’ll have Cam take you to the police station so you can ask your questions with less of the intimidation factor of my presence. Chief Preston Laughlin will be expecting you. If it’s all right, I’ve made dinner reservations for you and your wife along with myself and Preston Laughlin. Cam will pick you up at your hotel at six.”
“That’s very generous of you. I know Angie, my wife, will ask me what she should wear.”
The mayor’s laugh was throaty and genuine. “You are an excellent husband. Martenelli’s attire runs the gamut from jeans and t-shirts to business casual. I’m sure she’ll fit in no matter what she chooses. You can certainly lose the suit if you’d be more comfortable.”
The mayor returned to her desk and told Belle to contact Cam. While she did, Gordon ate his cookie. Store-bought.
When Raab arrived, Gordon said his good-byes and thank yous to the mayor and Belle. He tucked the folder under his arm and paused outside the office door. “Can we walk to the police station from here? Seems silly to drive.”
“Sure. I was going to suggest it, as the buildings share the back lot. It’s a nice day, too. Did the mayor give you the nickel tour of City Hall?”
“No, it was short and sweet, all in her office.”
“Then I’ll let you see everything from the viewpoint of our ordinary citizens.” Raab led the way, continuing along the hall toward an imposing marble staircase with twisted metal balusters topped with polished oak handrails. “There’s a public elevator, too, but the stairs give the place a this is an important building touch.”
“And they do it well,” Gordon said.
Raab continued. “First floor’s mostly the lobby, but there are a few offices down here. Public defender, public safety, public housing. Courtrooms are up on three. Most of two is lawyers’ offices, the city manager, and space for the town council, although they’re mostly part-time. Makes them feel good to have an office in here.”
“Mapleton’s town council members would be jealous. Except for the head of the council, they all have day jobs, meet once a month.”
Outside, they descended a long, wide flight of redbrick stairs. Gordon paused, turned around, and took in the building. Four marble columns flanked the double doors at the entrance. Three stories, lead-paned windows. A triangular structure at the top gave the impression of a Greek temple, but aside from the columns and the roof, one made of brick instead of stone.
“Impressive,” Gordon said. They strolled the sidewalk at a leisurely pace.
“You didn’t hear it from me,” Raab said, “but in my opinion, it’s way overdone. The founders must have had delusions of grandeur about what Pine Hills would become when they designed City Hall. Growth over time notwithstanding, we’re still a sleepy town, although we outgrew City Hall about forty years ago and built the Municipal Building. Here we are.”
They climbed another set of redbrick steps, Raab again holding the door for Gordon. None of the pretentiousness of City Hall, but clearly an official building. The lemon and pine scents made themselves known, but unobtrusively. Polished tile floors instead of marble. Wooden benches provided seating, and most held a smattering of occupants.
“DMV and Traffic Court,” Raab said, pointing them out. “Legal offices geared toward vehicular and other minor cases. Police department’s this way.”
At the entrance, Gordon beat Raab to the door, opened it, and they stepped inside. A clerk sat behind a glass partition, rising as they approached. His expression said they were expected.
“Morning, Cam,” the man said. “Mayor Butler said you’d be dropping by. Chief Laughlin’s expecting you, Chief Hepler.”
“Hey, Scott.” Raab turned to Gordon. “You’ll be in good hands. Give me a call if you want me to fetch you.”
“I doubt that’ll be necessary,” Gordon said. “The hotel’s not far, and as you pointed out, it’s a nice day. I’m sure you have something better to do than shuttle me around.”
“Trust me, shuttling you around is a nice break from routine paperwork. I’ll see you tonight, as I’ll be driving you and your wife to dinner.”
A uniformed officer appeared at the door next to the clerk’s domain. “Chief Hepler. If you’ll come with me, please.”
The officer’s name badge identified him as C. Patton. A shade under six feet, medium brown hair, and vivid blue eyes.
As they passed through the door into a worn carpeted hallway, the aroma of scorched coffee assaulted Gordon’s nostrils. His lips curved into a half-smile. Definitely in a police station. Patton stopped at an old-fashioned frosted glass paned door, with Chief of Police written in gilt letters. He opened the door and walked through a small anteroom, empty except for an unused desk, to an open inner office door.
“Chief Hepler to see you, sir,” Patton said, then turned and left.
Laughlin stood. “Come in.”
Gordon hesitated, taking the man in. He wore a three-piece suit, tie, and matching pocket square. Was that his normal attire, or was there some official function today—other than meeting with him?
Buzz-cut, steel-gray hair. Not a large man, but the aura of authority added to his stature. Piercing steel gray eyes. Eyes of a cop, not a politician. Gordon sensed Laughlin was doing an initial assessment of him as well. Was this going to be a second interview, not just a get-a-feel-for-the-department visit? And whose opinion carried more weight? Laughlin’s or Mayor Butler’s? Or the two councilmen, who were undoubtedly going to report to their cohorts in great detail?