In This Town. Beth Andrews
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the psychology of women to know Sullivan’s mood was hostile, her thoughts contemplating murder.
His murder.
Waves of animosity rolled off her, battered Walker with resentment and anger. She didn’t want him here. Not in her town. Not sitting across from the chief in her police department. Not sticking his nose into her professional life and career.
Life was tough that way.
Being a cop meant he often went where he wasn’t wanted.
He didn’t take it personally.
Walker stretched his legs out in front of him and met Sullivan’s heated gaze with a bland one of his own—which only seemed to piss her off more.
“If you fire Chief Taylor,” she said to the mayor, her long, lean body practically vibrating with outrage, her fisted hands on her hips, “then I quit.”
A passionate response, though a bit predictable for his tastes. Had it been brought on by respect for her boss, the man who—from all accounts—had won the position she’d wanted for herself? Devotion to the man she was sleeping with? Or loyalty to her partner in crime?
Taylor set down the paper. “They’re not firing me.”
Not yet.
Maybe not at all. But everyone in the room knew it was a distinct possibility.
“Any matters regarding termination of employment are up to Mystic Point’s city council and mayor,” Pomeroy pointed out. “Not me or Detective Bertrand.”
Sullivan jerked her head in Walker’s direction. “Then why is he here?”
“I’m here to help,” he said easily.
He was there to get to the truth.
Working for the state attorney general’s office, Walker was often tasked with investigating alleged wrongdoings in local government. City council members and mayors and police chiefs who abused their power or took bribes. Police departments accused of everything from cover-ups and mishandled cases to illegally obtaining evidence.
Most cops considered him the enemy. A traitor to the brotherhood, one who tore through the Blue Line and turned his back on his comrades in arms so he’d get promoted, maybe receive a few accolades as he climbed higher and higher in his career.
They could think whatever they wanted. Walker knew he was part of the system, a valuable part that helped maintain a balance. That rid the ranks of dirty cops and politicians. He dug for the truth, a messy, time-consuming, often thankless job.
He was damned good at it.
Sullivan bared her teeth and he wouldn’t be surprised if she leaped at him and took a big chunk out of his hide. “We don’t need your help.”
“The D.A. thinks you do,” William Seagren said, the bald spot on his crown shiny with sweat.
“This is ridiculous,” Sullivan snapped. “Ross didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then he has nothing to worry about,” Walker said before Seagren could respond.
Sullivan snorted. “Nothing except the fact that an investigation like this could ruin his reputation, not to mention have an adverse effect on how he’s viewed by the officers under his command and the community. They’ll question his capabilities, his ethics and morals.”
She was passionate, Walker would give her that. And, if he was being honest, he could see what had tempted Taylor into pursuing a sexual relationship with her. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail that reached the middle of her back, her features sharp. The uniform she wore accentuated the curves of her hips, her breasts.
Yeah, she was a looker. But Taylor should’ve had more restraint. More control.
Walker would have.
“Maybe Chief Taylor should’ve considered the consequences before he became personally involved with one of those officers under his command,” Walker said, then casually touched the top of his head, just in case the laserlike glare she shot his way had ignited his hair on fire.
Mayor Seagren cleared his throat. “Now, Layne, surely you can understand why we have to look into this matter.”
“Understand that you’re accusing us of—” she grabbed the paper Chief Taylor had set down and skimmed it “—neglect of duty and ethical violations and…corruption?” Her eyes wide, she crumpled the edge of the paper in her fist. “God, Billy, that’s a felony.”
“So is conspiracy to obstruct justice,” Walker pointed out, tired of the bullshit. Of how Pomeroy and Seagren coddled these two. This was why he’d been brought in, because no one in the county could be trusted to do the job. To remain impartial. To not get personally involved with these people, with this town.
“I’m here,” Walker told Sullivan in what he thought was a highly reasonable tone. “There’s going to be an investigation—nothing will change that so you might as well accept it. And you might want to start worrying less about your supervisor and more about how this investigation is going to affect you and your career.”
She growled at him. The woman actually growled.
“Captain,” the chief said mildly. Admonishingly.
Her expression didn’t soften and there was no sign his quiet censure affected her in the least but after sending Walker one more of her “Burn in hell!” looks, Sullivan walked to the wall next to the desk, leaned back and stared straight ahead.
Interesting. Not just her acquiescence, but the entire interaction between her and Taylor. Nothing in their body language gave away the fact that they were lovers. There were no touches, no fleeting, longing glances. Taylor had even addressed her by rank, instead of her name. The smart choice given the circumstances and Walker’s presence.
Then again, maybe the chief and captain always maintained a certain propriety while at work, foolishly believing they could keep their professional and personal lives separate.
They couldn’t. No one could. Sex changed things. Emotions clouded good judgment. Private fights, hurt feelings, even the rush of the good times and the pull of desire eventually leaked out of the bedroom and into the office. Tensions built, resentment simmered within the ranks of the department, causing low morale, bitterness and accusations.
Walker would determine whether those accusations were based on fact, fiction or something in between.
“How does this work?” Taylor asked in his Boston accent. There was no visible anger, no worry in his eyes. His tone was calm, his shoulders relaxed. As if he had nothing to hide, had done nothing wrong despite the evidence to the contrary.
If Walker had been the type of cop to go with his gut, he might believe Taylor was sincere. As honest and honorable as his record with the Boston P.D. indicated.
Instincts were all well and good, and Walker didn’t discount his, but neither did he put all his faith in them, either. He trusted his head, not some nebulous feeling. He gathered the facts, saw his cases from every angle, analyzed everyone and everything and then, and only then, did he come to a conclusion.
Pomeroy shifted forward, his tie caught on the shelf of his round stomach. “Detective Bertrand is in charge of seeing if the accusations against you both have merit.”
“Until he completes that investigation,” Mayor Seagren said, “you will be placed on administrative leave—”
Sullivan muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Nazi witch hunt” but Walker couldn’t be sure.
“With pay,” the mayor continued. “Meade will take over in the interim.”
“Meade’s a good choice.” Taylor faced Walker. “You can expect our full cooperation. Isn’t that right, Captain?”
“Of course,” she said as if that never should have even been in doubt