“Yes, sir.”

“And then worked at HQ for a year.”

“Yes, sir.”

“When did you move back down to the Bay?”

“A month ago. When they finished the post.”

“Have you found a place to live?”

“Yes, sir. A mother-in-law apartment over a garage. It’s only a studio but very comfortable.”

“Your landlord okay?”

“Yes, sir. It’s my uncle’s wife’s sister and her husband. They fish commercially during the summer and grow coffee in Hawaii in the winter.”

“Nice.” He looked up. “Is there anything in particular you’d like to draw my attention to, Ms. Petroff? Since you got here before me and have had time to settle in.”

She hesitated, and he wondered if her advice had never before been solicited by a trooper. If her time on the job had been spent only at HQ, she would have seen more of politics than of policing, so perhaps not a surprise. “If you read through the last month’s dispatches for this detachment, sir, it will do much to bring you up to speed. I…”

“Yes?” he said encouragingly.

“I believe Chief Armstrong would welcome an introduction, sir.”

He nodded. “Anything else?”

“There’s a local paper, sir, a weekly. It has a section called Cops and Courts. It would also help bring you up to speed.”

That’s right, they had an actual judge here in Blewestown; an actual judge in an actual courtroom in an actual courthouse. With jury trials. Which meant juries. God. “Should I introduce myself to the local judge as well?”

She nodded. “Yes, sir. I doubt that either of you want to meet for the first time in court.”

He’d rather never meet another judge again as long as he lived. He wanted Bill back. Magistrate Bill Billington had taken no prisoners. She’d been a damn fine bartender, too. “No, probably not.” He looked at the screen. “Why don’t you call Chief Armstrong and ask him if he’s free for lunch? Tell him to pick the restaurant.”

“Very good, sir.” She turned to leave.

“Ms. Petroff?” She looked over her shoulder. “Were either of your parents in the military?”

“No, sir?”

“Just a passing thought.” He waved her away and clicked on the dispatch icon she had so helpfully and efficiently set up on his desktop, and plunged into the minutiae of a state trooper’s life on the road system.

The phone on his desk beeped. “Yes?”

“Chief Armstrong says to meet him at noon at the Compass Rose Diner.”

“Thank you, Ms. Petroff.”

“And Judge DeWinter says she is free at three, if you’d care to meet her in her office then. She says please will you bring the coffee.”

“I trust you know how she likes it, Ms. Petroff? And where to buy it?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Then please tell the judge I’ll see her then, and thank you again.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

Liam grinned at the door. For once in his life and, Liam was certain, entirely without intending to do so, it looked like Barton had done Liam a honking big favor.