I’d texted Mona earlier and asked her to call everyone in the department for a short meeting. I called Glock personally and asked him to meet me beforehand. I know he’ll be happy to fill in while I’m away, but I don’t want to blindside him in front of his peers.

When I pull in to my reserved parking spot, I notice every slot is filled and Glock’s F-150 is already there. I walk inside to find all three of my dispatchers—Mona, Lois, and Jodie—standing at the dispatch station. I can tell by their expressions that they’re wondering why I’ve called a meeting. They know something’s up and speculation is running rampant.

“In case you’re wondering,” I say as I pluck messages from my slot, “I’m not leaving the department.”

“That’s a relief,” Lois says with a sigh.

Mona elbows her. “Told you.”

“And you’re not pregnant?” Jodie blurts.

“Not lately.” I try not to let them see my smile as I continue toward my office. “Send Glock in, will you?”

“You owe me five bucks,” Mona whispers behind me, and the three women break into laughter.

I’ve just let myself into my office and turned on my computer when Glock appears at my door. “You wanted to see me, Chief?”

“Hey.” I motion to the visitor chair. “Have a seat and close the door.”

Rupert “Glock” Maddox is a former Marine with two tours in Afghanistan on his résumé. Not yet forty years of age, he’s a good cop with an easygoing personality, solid judgment, and a wicked sense of humor I enjoy a little too much. He’s my most experienced officer, respected by his peers and the community alike—and the first African American to grace the ranks of the department.

“I feel like I’ve been called into the principal’s office,” he says, but he’s grinning as he takes the chair.

I smile back. “You have.”

“Skid did it, Chief. I swear.”

I laugh outright. Chuck “Skid” Skidmore is one of my other officers. His sense of humor rivals Glock’s, and not for the first time I’m reminded how lucky I am to have these young officers working for me.

“I’m going to be gone for a few weeks, and I’m putting you in charge while I’m away.”

His eyes sharpen on mine. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m going to do some contract work for Franklin County in upstate New York.”

“I saw those BCI guys in your office yesterday.” He raises his brows. “New York?”

I tell him about the assignment. He’s the one officer on my team I know does not have a penchant for gossip. “I think it’s going to be a quick in and out, probably two or three weeks.”

He doesn’t look as convinced as I want him to be. “Undercover work can get kind of dicey.…”

“You sound like Tomasetti.” Glock is one of the few who knows Tomasetti and I are living together.

“He’s got a point.”

“We’re talking about an Amish community, so I don’t expect any problems. Still, with regard to the department, and for simplicity’s sake, I’ve decided to keep it vague.”