didn’t know, either, but now that he’d taken stock of Karen Keppler’s physical attributes, he didn’t think it was going to take too long to find out. The only question was what bigwig she was cozy with...and whether he’d used blackmail or favors owed to put pressure on the commander or somebody up the line.
When Brick arrived at the station at 7:23, a full half hour before his shift began, he was surprised to find one of Tyler’s dispatchers, Cindy Lou, cowering by the police radio. The young blonde looked a bit bedraggled this morning. She could have been sick—this time of year there were a fair number of colds and sore throats going around—but illness wouldn’t account for her hangdog expression.
“What’s wrong, Cin?” he asked, taken aback by her uncharacteristic sobriety.
“I was over getting a cup of coffee when Clayton and Franklin called in,” she told him miserably, not even meeting his eyes. “It was just a doughnut stop, so I went ahead and put a spoonful of creamer in my cup before I came back over here and called back. By that time she had grabbed the mike and barked out a bunch of numbers I didn’t understand. She told me never to leave my post unless there was somebody else to cover me. Then she marched in there and slammed the door.”
Cindy Lou pointed to Paul Schmidt’s office, a place that Brick had once considered a source of warmth and strength. Now it was inhabited by a virago.
“I’ll talk to her, Cindy,” he volunteered. Serving as a liaison between the boss and the underlings had always been part of his job, but it hadn’t been all that taxing while Paul was in charge. “She’s new here and a bit high-strung. After a while she’ll figure out the way we do things in Tyler.”
Cindy Lou, who’d once set her cap for Brick but had recently resigned herself to being a good friend, smiled her gratitude. “Thanks, Brick. I don’t know what we’d do without you here. It’s so unfair that you—”
“I know. Let’s not talk about it, okay?” Before she could answer, he asked, “When did she get here?”
“About five. I was so shocked! Paul never came in until after daylight, and even you don’t show up that early!”
“Don’t ask me to understand the workings of that woman’s mind,” Brick replied darkly. “I think Captain Curvaceous attended police academy on some other planet.”
When Cindy Lou glanced up at Brick, giggling at the nickname he’d coined, her glance fell on his jaw for the first time. “Good heavens, Brick! What happened to you? I thought you were off duty last night.”
He was trying to think of a way to avoid confessing the humiliating truth when he heard the captain’s office door swing open.
To Brick’s dismay, that damned Keppler woman looked every bit as striking in a black uniform as she did dressed for a party. Her braided hair looked more prosaic than it did in a chignon, but somehow the stern image flattered her striking features.
“Bauer, glad you’re here,” the new boss briskly called out to him from across the room. “We’ve got a lot to cover this morning before roll call.”
“Roll call?” he echoed. With all of six men on each shift, it seemed like a ridiculous formality. “We, uh, don’t do roll call here.”
Karen Keppler straightened then, looking ominous in her uniform as she took a step toward him.
“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. I believe I heard you say something like ‘we don’t do roll call here.”’
Reluctantly Brick nodded, trying to stifle a new wave of resentment. He was uncomfortably aware that the door behind him had just opened and several day-shift guys had just wisecracked their way into the room. “That’s what I said, Captain Keppler. Paul always—”
“Lieutenant, I am not interested in the sections of the county code violated by my predecessor unless they are serious enough for prosecution,” she cut in, her gray eyes showing all the warmth of a glacier. “I am interested in instituting proper police procedures in accordance with the newly revised manual. I did not devote most of a year of my off-duty time to updating this edition in order to have it ignored by the men under my command. Is that clear?”
During this unexpected speech, Clayton and Franklin had joined the day-shift fellows, gaping wordlessly as the new boss tongue-lashed the man they all considered their true leader. Brick couldn’t say that Paul had never chewed out a man in public, but he’d only done it when the man had failed to respond to more subtle direction.
Not once, not ever, had he done it to Brick.
With all the strength he could muster, he refrained from cutting Karen Keppler down to size. “I’m sure that Tyler’s officers will follow whatever regulations are important to you, Captain,” he reported stiffly. “I merely meant to explain that they had not been willfully violating any county requirements. Paul simply had a different way—”
“I am not interested in former Chief Schmidt’s ways, nor in his shockingly unprofessional habits,” the captain interrupted, ignoring the communal gasp of dismay from the men behind Brick. “From now on you will refer to him by his proper name, and you will address me by my proper rank.” Her tone was so sharp it almost left nicks on Brick’s still-bloodied face. “Do we understand each other, Lieutenant?”
Brick had not expected to like Karen Keppler. He had not expected to enjoy serving under her command. Last night he’d realized he would have to swallow a great deal of pride to tolerate being her subordinate, but it was not until this moment that he realized how seriously this woman was going to color his world. She’d stolen his promotion; she’d invaded his home. Brick was sworn by duty to uphold her orders and demand loyalty to her from his men.
But no duty could keep him from wanting to throttle her at this moment. And no badge would keep him from calling a spade a spade if she ever dressed him down in public again.
* * *
“SO HOW DID your first day of work go?” Anna Kelsey cheerfully asked Karen as her new boarder sat down to dinner. She was such a pretty girl, even if she was a bit sparing with her sweet smile. “You should have told me you were going to be the new police captain. I hear you took my favorite nephew by surprise.” Actually, she’d heard the story of Brick’s real surprise—being flipped on his backside by his new boss—from no fewer than six different people today. Dr. George Phelps, Anna’s boss, had told her the tale firsthand.
Karen took her napkin off the table and laid it carefully across her lap. “Well, it’s a small town, Mrs. Kelsey—”
“Anna, dear. Only strangers call me Mrs. Kelsey.”
Karen’s smile was genuine but strained. “Until I have time to buy my own place, Anna, I’m bound to brush elbows with some of my men.”
Anna tried to swallow a chuckle as she pondered other possible interpretations of that phrase, but red-haired Tisha Olsen, never one to pull her punches, laughed outright.
“It’s a worthy goal for most girls your age, honey,” the eccentric hairdresser teased with a good-natured grin. “With all the fine boys on our force, I imagine you’ll find yourself a man in no time.”
Anna was surprised to see Karen color; she knew Tisha had meant no harm. Still, it wouldn’t be easy for any woman of
