style="font-size:15px;"> “Most of it.” Finn took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes briefly in appreciation. “Mmm. This hits the spot. I’ve got to watch for Carl. He’s picking me up in about twenty minutes.”
John didn’t think she sounded like someone who dreaded going to work. She seemed relaxed. Maybe the change in mood that Seamus detected was her concern about his health, and nothing related to her job at all.
“Are you free for supper tonight, Finn?” Anne asked.
John felt Finn’s eyes on him. “No, I think I’ll go to the range after work this afternoon. Do you want to come along?” She directed the question at him.
“Finn.” Anne frowned at her, but Finn didn’t acknowledge the warning.
“Were you right-or left-handed before the accident?”
“Right.” He knew his voice sounded tight. What did she think she was doing?
“I’m assuming as a Madison agent that you still shoot.”
“Yes.”
“I’m probably better than you.” Finn grinned mischievously. “Want to find out?”
“Fiona Isobeale Kelly!” Seamus blustered, but John held up his hand.
“It’s all right, Chief. What man can resist a challenge like that?”
“I’m done at three,” Finn said. “I’m sure you can use Chief’s gun if you didn’t bring yours along. Otherwise I have an extra.” A car horn sounded from outside. “Carl’s here. I’ll see you all later.” She filched another cinnamon roll and slipped out the door.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Anne forced a smile. “I’ve got some laundry to get on the line. Help yourselves to more coffee if you’d like.”
“Seamus, did you get Finn the job here?” John asked bluntly when they were alone.
“She scored highest on the civil service test and passed every requirement they had,” Seamus said.
“That’s not what I asked, but thank you for answering the question anyway.” John stood up and walked to the window. The squad car was pulling away. “She looks about sixteen, Chief. Did you think that securing a job for her at a department that’s got any anti-female sentiment was a good idea?”
“You know as well as I do that being a good cop starts here.” Seamus thumped his chest. “She’s bright and has integrity and compassion.”
“Then she should have joined the Girl Scouts,” John shot back.
“Finn got the job on her own merit,” Seamus insisted. “All I did was talk to Chief Larson when she applied for the job. He said that he’d put in a good word for her with the Police and Fire Commission. There’s been some pressure to start hiring female officers.” Seamus saw the doubt on the younger man’s face. “She can do this, John. Everything seemed fine when she started at the department. Then, about two months ago, things changed. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just a hunch, but something’s going on. She won’t confide in me or Anne.” He looked like the admission stung.
“So maybe she can do the job—but does she want to?” John asked. “That’s the million-dollar question.”
“There was another fire last night,” Carl Davis told Finn on the way to the department.
“Where was it this time?”
“Just a shed behind the hardware store.” Carl adjusted the rearview mirror. “Someone reported it before it did too much damage.”
Finn shook her head. “That makes two this month. The first one was in a Dumpster. Now it’s a building?”
“School’s out and kids are bored.”
“When I was bored I went swimming or played basketball,” Finn said.
“Yeah, well, you probably had a pool.”
“Just a small one.”
She liked Carl. He was in his early forties, with almost twenty years of experience on patrol. He’d begun as her training officer and still kept a close eye on her. Early on, he had told her she could confide in him if she had any trouble being accepted by the rest of the officers. She had gotten to know his wife, Sherilynn, and had taken them up on several of their dinner invitations since she’d been hired.
They walked into the department and the dispatcher, Gil Patterson, shook his finger at her. “There you are, Kelly!”
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? You had court a half an hour ago, that’s what’s wrong.” Gil rolled his eyes.
“Why wasn’t I told?”
“I put the notice in your box last week myself,” Gil said defensively. “It was Lessing. They had to let him go because you weren’t there as the arresting officer to testify.”
Finn felt sick. Lessing. “I didn’t get the notice.”
“Chief wants to see you.” Gil wouldn’t look at her now. “He’s in his office.”
Finn had arrested Jerome Lessing for domestic abuse the week before, after a neighbor called to report sounds of a woman screaming. She had witnessed firsthand the bruises on Bonnie Lessing’s face and arms when she’d arrived at the scene. And now the abuser had walked away without so much as a slap on the wrist.
Chief Larson was sipping coffee when Finn stepped into his office.
“Kelly.” He indicated the chair on the opposite side of the mammoth oak desk. “Have a seat.” He put down his cup. “Lessing’s at Marie’s Café this morning eating their dollar-ninety-nine breakfast special—one egg, scrambled, toast with jelly and home fries. Must not care about his cholesterol level.”
“I didn’t get the notice.”
“I already talked to Gil. He remembers putting it in your box,” Chief Larson said.
“Someone took it out.” There, she’d said it.
Larson stared at her in disbelief. “Someone took it?” he repeated. “You mean deliberately? Are you saying there is some sort of…plot…against you?”
“Not a plot,” Finn said in frustration. “It’s just that little things have been happening lately.”
“It doesn’t wash, Kelly. You started out fine. The other officers have accepted you.” He looked disappointed. “I can’t let you blame your negligence on someone else. Has anyone in this department said they don’t want you here? Discriminated against you?”
“No.”
“You’ve got two months left on your probation,” Larson said gruffly. “Let’s see some focus, Finn.”
“Yes, sir.”
