“Nice office,” he said. This wasn’t going to be so bad, he decided. He hadn’t been looking forward to dealing with another micromanaging tightass like Kinnison, but this old guy seemed pretty chill.
Eyes twinkling, the mayor nodded his thanks as he took his own seat behind the large desk. As if just realizing he had it on, he pulled the reindeer-antler hat off and tossed it on the desk.
“I didn’t get word who Kinnison was sending until an hour ago, which means all I have to go on is his assessment and a cursory check of your record.” Before Diego could do more than frown, the mayor continued. “Kinnison would see a case like ours as an irritant. So I figure this goes one of two ways. Either you have a lot of potential, but somehow got on his bad side so he sent you here as a warning. Or you’re too good to fire, but you regularly piss him off and he’s trying to break you.”
“You know the captain pretty well?” Diego sidestepped.
“We’ve served on a few of the same boards.”
It didn’t take years as a detective to read his tone and realize the mayor wasn’t a fan of the new captain. Score one for the old guy’s good taste.
All traces of teddy bear gone now, Applebaum tapped a finger on the stack of files on the corner of his desk. “Punishment, lesson or hand slap aside, I don’t care that this sounds like a joke of a case. I expect it to be handled with tact, delicacy and a tenacious resolve for justice.”
Kinnison’s threats echoing through Diego’s mind, he debated for all of three seconds. Then, unable to do otherwise, he opted for the truth. “I can only guarantee one of the three, sir. I’ve got the highest close rate in the county. I’m a damn good cop.”
“But?”
“But I failed the course in tact, and have no idea what delicacy is when it comes to solving crimes.”
“Then we might have a problem. This case involves a number of women, all embarrassed over the violation of their privacy. You’re a stranger, a man, and a good-looking one at that. To solve this case, you’re going to have to get them to talk to you about their unmentionables.”
Diego grimaced.
Kinnison was probably laughing his ass off.
“I’ll work on the tact, sir.”
Applebaum’s bushy brows rose, but he didn’t mention delicacy again. He gave Diego a long, searching look. The same kind his uncle had always wielded, the kind that poked into the corners of a guy’s soul. Uncle Leon had always come up disgusted after his searches.
Diego wondered how he’d convince Kinnison that being kicked to the curb before he even started the case wasn’t the same as failing to solve it.
Before he could figure anything out, though, the mayor reached across his rosewood desk and lifted a thick file. Frowning, Diego took it without looking. His eyes were locked on the older man instead. What? No lecture? No warning about not causing trouble in his town?
“Well, then, let’s see what you can do. Here are my files. They’re probably a great deal more detailed than the ones you’ve seen. You go ahead and look through these, then we’ll get to work.”
We? Diego shifted. He didn’t do partners. Especially not ones who saw the townspeople as friends instead of potential suspects. Still, the sooner he started, the sooner he could get the hell out of here. Small towns made Diego claustrophobic. Punishment cases just pissed him off. Not a good long-term combination.
“I’m ready to get to work, but I have a request first.”
“You need a dictionary to look up the word delicate?”
Diego smirked. It was hard not to like a guy who’d honed his smart-ass mouth to such a sharp edge. “I realize this is your town, and your focus is on protecting your citizens. But I’d like permission to handle the case my way.”
Eyes narrowed, Applebaum leaned back in his chair and studied Diego over steepled fingers. “Your way. Which means what, exactly?”
“I’ll follow procedure, stick with the rules and regulations.” Even if it choked him. “But I prefer to work a case alone. It’s easier to form an unbiased opinion, to dig for and sift through information solo. I’m not asking you to stay completely out of it or to give me free rein. It’d just be easier if the victims, the townspeople, see me as the lead on the case.”
“You don’t want me breathing over your shoulder while you grill one of the ladies of my town about her underwear?”
Diego hesitated. Nothing said he had to let Applebaum ride shotgun. But edging him out could be seen as smudging that line the captain was crazy about.
Diego shoved a hand through his hair, noting that he’d forgotten Kinnison’s order to get it cut.
Before he could address the tact Applebaum had mentioned, the door flew open. Surprised, both men watched a plump woman in a red Rudolph sweater hurry in, a plate in one hand and a sticky note in the other.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt. I brought cookies, but they’re a little, well …” She set the red-and-white-striped plate on the desk so fast, at least a cookie’s worth of crumbs hit the floor. Ignoring them, the woman hurried around the desk to hand the mayor the sticky note. Since she looked like the kind who chased crumbs like they were minions of the devil, Diego figured that note was damn important.
The frown on Applebaum’s face confirmed it.
“Thank you, Clara,” he said. Brow furrowed, he gestured to Diego. “Clara, this is Detective Sandoval. Detective, my secretary, Clara Clancy.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Likewise,” she said with a quick smile before poking her finger at the note again. “You should go now. Jade can’t enter her house until you get there, and Persephone’s out.”
The mayor rose quickly. He grabbed a couple of cookie pieces off the plate and gestured Diego toward the door. “You can read the files this evening. For now, we have another theft.”
“Sir?” He did a quick replay of the conversation. “What’s the significance of this burglary? Who is in danger?”
As he always did before approaching a volatile crime scene, Diego did an automatic weapon check. Surprised at how quick the older man moved, Diego lengthened his stride.
“Jade Carson is our librarian,” the mayor said, hurrying around the back of the garage-slash-office. Diego was just about to point out that he preferred to use his own transportation and that his GPS was perfectly capable of finding the address.
Then they reached the carport and his mouth was too busy drooling to get the words out.
“Climb in,” the older man said, sliding into the driver’s side of the cherry-red ‘66 Corvette. “And buckle up.”
Diego didn’t see it as capitulation to follow orders. It was more like expedience. And—he breathed deep the smell of rich leather—appreciation.
“Sir, is there a reason why the current victim being the librarian necessitates the rush?” Noting the sheepish look on the mayor’s face, why did he feel as if he was getting the runaround? In fine style, he acknowledged as the powerful roar of the engine kicked to life. But style or not, he didn’t go into a scene blind. It wasn’t a violent crime, the victim hadn’t entered the premises. So what was going on?
“We’re hurrying because, well, because of something that has nothing to do with the crime but a lot to do with keeping the peace.” Applebaum’s words were as tight and controlled as his hands on the steering wheel.
Diego sighed. Adrenaline, so high and intense a second ago, started dissipating. “Is this one of those small-town things?”
Applebaum