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âm gonna burn this house to the ground,â Mayor Hilly Swanson griped as I emptied her coat closet of boots and gardening clogs.
âProbably shouldnât be sayinâ that in front of the law,â I said as I shook out a snow boot and tossed it aside.
She was standing behind me on a step stool in the foyer, wringing her hands.
Officer Troy Winslow was backed up against the front door holding the twelve-gauge shotgun weâd relieved the mayor of upon our arrival. He was looking like he wanted to bolt.
âI should sue that dang real estate agent. If she woulda said âsnake migrationâ at any point during the buying process, my ass woulda said no thank you,â Hilly said.
Sheâd lived in this house for twenty years, and the Knockemout PD went through this ritual twice a year. In the spring, snakes slithered their way down from the limestone bluffs toward a swampy area of nearby state park lands for the summer. In the fall, they slithered their way back to the bluffs to wait out the long winter.
Hilly Swansonâs house was smack-dab in the middle of the migration path. Over the years, sheâd spent a small fortune to snake-proof the foundation, but one or two always managed to find their way in.
I shoved the now empty shoe rack aside and checked behind it.
âThis is just like waitinâ for those refrigerator biscuits to pop,â Winslow said. âYou know itâs cominâ but that donât mean youâre ready for it.â Winslow was not a snake person. The guy had no problem chasing bears out of campgrounds, but if it slithered, he wasnât going near it.
I, on the other hand, had grown up on and in the creek, which had given me a hell of a lot of experience with snakes.
âI told Mickey not to leave the door open when he was cartinâ groceries inside. But he said I was crazy. And then he took his butt off to the golf course and Iâm the one who has to deal with the consequences. If I was a braver soul who wasnât about to pee her pants, Iâd put that damn snake on his side of the bed to teach him a lesson.â
I reached for the trench coat belt in the corner only to realize it was moving. âGotcha.â
âOh my God. Iâm gonna kill Mickey.â
I aimed the beam of my flashlight at the reptile and reached out lightning-quick to grab it just behind the head. It was cold and eerily slick under my hand, like no matter how tight I held on, the muscles under all that smooth would just slide right out.
âItâs practically a baby,â I said, stuffing all five feet of pissed-off rat snake into the pillowcase I kept in my cruiser for such occasions.
I backed out of the closet and got to my feet.
Hilly recoiled. âLord have mercy.â
Winslow looked like he was trying real hard to back through the front door without opening it.
âI think weâre done here,â I said, holding the wriggling pillowcase in one hand.
âThank you, thank you, thank you,â Hilly chanted. She followed us out onto the front porch, still wringing her hands. âYou got a second to talk about another snake-related matter?â
âSure. Mind gettinâ our new friend settled in the car, Winslow?â I handed over the snake in the bag to him, mostly to mess with him. âWatch where you step. The groundâs slithering this time of year,â I warned.
He swallowed hard, held the pillowcase gingerly at armâs length, and tiptoed toward the SUV.
âWhatâs the latest on Dilton?â Hilly asked, sliding back into her usual tough broad role now that the snake was no longer in her vicinity.
âInvestigation is ongoing,â I said.
âThatâs the standard line,â she complained.
âThatâs whatâs on record.â
âWell, then gimme off the record so I can start preparing what the hell Iâm gonna say to the town council.â
âOff the record, so far weâve only dug back a few months into his cases, interviewing victims and suspects.â
âBut?â
âBut thereâs a pattern on the calls he handled solo since I got myself shot. Being a man down opened a window for him and he took advantage. Heâs not cominâ back from this.â
âWhatâs the townâs responsibility in all this? How do we make this right?â
I expected the first question and respected the hell out of her for the second.
I blew out a breath. âWeâre going by the book, crossing tâs and dottinâ iâs. Heâs not getting off on a technicality. But hereâs the part youâre not gonna like.â
âKnew it was cominâ.â
âI reached out to the Kennedys, the husband and wife Dilton harassed during the traffic stop. I spoke with both, without counsel.â
She raised her auburn eyebrows. âAnd how did that go?â
âIt was a judgment call. Iâll tell you the same thing I told them. Dilton was my responsibility. It happened on my watch. Husband was more understanding than he needed to be. The wife was understandably less so. But we talked it out. I apologized profusely and took full responsibility.â
âSolicitorâs gonna love that,â Hilly said.
âYeah, well. Sometimes sayinâ youâre sorry is more important than coverinâ your ass. Either way, it was the right thing to do. Mrs. Kennedy called me back yesterday and gave me the contact info of a training organization that works with departments on de-escalation and diversity training. Expensive, but in my opinion, necessary. And cheaper than the lawsuit weâd settle.â
âHow much are we talkinâ?â
I nodded toward the car where Piperâs head was hanging out the driverâs side window. âLetâs just say thatâs gonna be the only K-9 officer we can afford for a while.â
She shook her head. âFuckinâ Dilton. One bad cop is all it takes.â
âI know. Itâs one hundred percent my fault for keepinâ him on. For thinkinâ I could change him.â
She put her hands on her hips and stared out through the forest. âYeah, well, now you know how it feels to be a woman in love with a dumbass with potential. Ninety-nine percent of the time, that potential never gets realized.â
âMickey have potential?â I teased.
Her smirk was quick. âHell yeah, he did. And I didnât give him a choice about the realizing part of it.â
âBeen thinking,â I began.
âAnytime an official says that, things are about to get expensive.â
âNot necessarily. Since weâre already adding on some education, what would you think of bringing in Social Services caseworkers to do a training for us?â
âWhat kind of training?â
âMental health calls. You know Xandra Rempalski?â
She shot me a look that said I was tiptoeing into dumbass territory. âThe nurse who saved my chief of policeâs life? Nope. Never heard of her. Nor do I own four necklaces and three pairs of her earrings.â
âOkay. All right. Her nephew has autism.â
âSure, yeah. I know Alex.â
âHeâs nonverbal, six feet tall, and Black,â I said, rocking back on my heels.
Hilly blew out a sigh. âIâm pickinâ up what youâre puttinâ down. Moms with Black babies have a lot of conversations with those babies on how to interact with cops.â
âAnd I wanna make sure that we cops are having conversations on how to safely and respectfully interact with those babies. All of them. Especially the ones who canât talk back. Doesnât sit well with me that some of our people still donât feel safe here. Thatâs exactly why I took this job, and Iâve still got a lot of learning and a lot of work to do.â
âDonât we all, Chief? So how do we go about that?â
âIâd like to talk it over with Yolanda Suarez. Sheâs been a caseworker a long time and sheâll have some ideas. Right now, Iâm thinking some kind of combination of ongoing department training and tag teaming mental health calls with social workers. Other departments in bigger cities have rolled out programs like that and theyâre seeinâ results. Maybe we could bring Naomi Witt into it since sheâs community outreach coordinator.â
âItâs a damn good idea.â
âI think so too.â
âWhy donât you set up a meet with you, me, and Yolanda first? Then weâll go from there.â
âAppreciate it. Guess Iâd better get your slithering roommate to his new home.â
Hilly shuddered. âChief, after Iâm done burning this place to the ground and murdering my husband, Iâm putting you up for a raise.â
I paused. If there was one thing Hilly guarded with her life, it was Knockemoutâs purse strings. âI wouldnât feel right about that. Not with whatâs gone down the past few months.â
She reached out and patted me on my cheek. âThatâs exactly why youâre gettinâ one, son. You care. You take responsibility. And you create solutions. This town is lucky to have you. Iâm damn proud of the man youâve grown up to be.â
I wasnât one to get choked up about a few compliments, but growing up without the mom whoâd sprinkled them so liberally through my childhood left a void. A deep one that I was only just beginning to recognize.
It had been a long time since anyone I loved had been proud of me.
I surprised us both by leaning down and brushing a kiss to her cheek. âThanks, Mayor.â
She turned bright red. âGo on now. Get that damn snake off my property and get back to work. Weâve got people to serve.â
I threw her a little salute and headed for the car. âMake sure you alibi up before you go on your arson-murder spree.â
âWill do, Chief.â
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