“That’s it,” Riggle shouted, coming around the table. “You are both under arrest. Get your asses over to the wall and—”

“For the love of God, Riggle,” Park said. “Get the fuck out of my interview room.”

The silence that followed Riggle’s bellowing was sharp and sudden. He swiveled slowly to face Park.

“I’ve put up with a lot of shit from you over the last few days,” Riggle said, “letting you come in here, letting you push people around, my people, letting you push them around. I’ve nodded and smiled and played nice at all these asshat meetings you’ve made me attend. I’ve gone along; I understand you’re going to work this case, and I’ve done what I could to make that easy on you. But let me remind you that I’m the chief of police, and this might be a flyspeck city in the middle of nowhere, but I’m still chief. You’re in here as a courtesy. If the feds decide they want this corruption case, they can handle it through the proper channels.”

Park didn’t move. Hazard wasn’t even sure she blinked. The seconds dragged into a minute. When the door to the interview room flew open, Riggle flinched; Park didn’t.

Glennworth Somerset didn’t normally look much like his son—the same eyes were all, tropically blue and clear. But today, as Wahredua’s recently elected mayor stormed into the interview room, Hazard could see the resemblance: the way he carried himself, the coloring in his face, the tightness in his jaw. Even the voice, when Glenn began to speak.

“Just exactly when was someone going to inform me that there is an arrest warrant out for my son?” Glenn said. His gaze touched on Park before shifting to Riggle. “What the fuck is going on?”

Riggle straightened, raised his chin, and glanced at Park before saying, “It’s not good, Mr. Mayor. I was hoping to have more information before I brought this to you.”

“More information? You’re damn right there better be more information. My son has been a respected member of this police force for over ten years. You were still picking lint out of your ass in that shithole I dragged you out of. If you think I put you in this job so you could harass my family—”

“Mr. Mayor,” Riggle managed to get in, “if we could talk in my office—”

Again, his gaze moved to Park.

“I want every fucking detail,” Glenn said, turning and marching out of the room. “And keep Emery here; I want to talk to him too.”

Riggle slunk out of the interview room, pulling the door shut behind him.

“Christ,” Park said, arching her back. “He’s going to be even more of a nightmare to work with after this.” She gestured at the door. “Everybody heard that whole train wreck. He’s going to spend the rest of my time here proving to everyone that he’s still in charge.

“This town is a snake pit.” Park was studying Hazard openly now. “Here’s the conversation I wanted to have: I understand that you don’t believe your fiancé is connected to drugs. I’m sorry about that, I really am. I met him, and he’s got charm. But the closer I look, the less I like what I see. Something hasn’t been right about this little corner of the world for a long time. Dirty cops. Impossible cases. And, of course, the evidence is what it is: we’ve got his prints all over those drugs, and until somebody has a better explanation, I’ve got to go with what the evidence tells you. Right now, the evidence tells me that he and his partner had a lot of drugs.”