eyes glittered. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’ve called you that for years.”
“I’m not some dumb little kid anymore.”
Alec let his eyebrows climb. “Your dad called you Mattie.”
“You’re not my father!” the boy spat.
He needed a second to be sure he could respond calmly. “No. But I loved Josh, and I love you.”
Matt stared down at his toes.
“Matt it is,” Alec said after a moment. “Come on. You’re the first person to sleep in the guest room.”
Leading the way, he heard a muttered “Oh, wow.”
Man, Alec hoped the kid wasn’t as big a shit to everyone else as he was to his mother and now him. To the people who had authority over him, it occurred to Alec. Didn’t bode well for teachers or coaches.
Grimacing, he had to wonder if Matt would make friends in Angel Butte. Even the way he dressed was going to stand out. Around here, boys his age didn’t wear pants with the crotch hanging down around their knees and T-shirts three sizes too big. Alec hoped there wasn’t already a tattoo hidden where his mother hadn’t seen it, but where the other boys would in the locker room. Maybe not every kid at the middle school here in Angel Butte would be wholesome, but they tended to put up a better front.
Sooner or later, he and Matt would be having a serious talk about what was and wasn’t acceptable. Alec could hardly wait.
“Why don’t you come out to the kitchen once you’re settled?” he suggested.
He was treated to the sight of the bedroom door shutting in his face.
CHAPTER TWO
AT HIS FIRST SIGHT of people clustered at the base of the Public Safety Building’s front steps, Alec’s mood darkened.
And he’d been feeling unusually good, too; how could he not, having started his day over the breakfast table with Julia and the kids?
He pocketed his car keys, mentally braced himself and strode forward. If he wasn’t mistaken, that was a press conference, and no one had told him. He was even less pleased when he spotted, as the focus of the small crowd, Captain Colin McAllister, who worked immediately under him heading investigation and support services. McAllister had served as acting police chief until Alec’s arrival and really should have been given the job permanently. His resentment had never been a secret, although he saved most of it for Mayor Noah Chandler, who had blocked his hiring.
Alec had really enjoyed watching Chandler fall for McAllister’s sister. Neither of the men had been very happy about the prospect of becoming family.
Now McAllister stood on the top step, surrounded by microphones. He wore a well-cut suit and was listening to a question with his head slightly bent.
But damn, Alec was going to be pissed if McAllister had some big news he’d chosen not to share with him before holding an attention-grabbing press conference.
Closer up, he saw that some of the crowd were police department employees and passersby, drawn by curiosity. His experienced eye identified a pair of reporters, one with the Bend Bulletin and the other with the Angel Butte Reporter. A third might be a stringer for the Oregonian out of Portland, and, more annoyingly, a huge TV camera from a local news channel was there and filming.
As he neared, he couldn’t help noticing that McAllister’s expression was not expansive.
“Mayor Chandler has endorsed me,” he said with the tone of a man repeating himself. “Feel free to take your questions to him.”
Jim Henning from the Reporter caught sight of Alec. He swung away from McAllister. “Chief Raynor!” They all turned to him, faces avid.
Feeling like fresh meat, Alec took the stairs until he was at his captain’s side. “I wasn’t aware of any excitement this morning.”
“Word has been leaked that the mayor blacklisted Captain McAllister as a candidate for the position of police chief. Were you aware of his action?”
Alec flicked his captain a sidelong glance. McAllister spread the fingers of one hand in a subtle what the hell? gesture.
“I was aware,” he said.
“And yet you and he both have endorsed Captain McAllister for county sheriff,” Henning said.
“That’s correct.” He looked from face to face. “May I ask who leaked this information?”
The stringer from the Oregonian answered. “The tip came from Sheriff Brock’s campaign manager.” He sounded slightly sardonic. In not quite three months on the job, Alec had already heard plenty of stories about the incumbent sheriff, who was certainly incompetent and very probably corrupt.
“I see. As I believe Captain McAllister has already suggested, you might want to take your questions to the mayor.”
“You must know Mayor Chandler’s reasoning,” Jim Henning shot back.
Damn it. He hesitated, debating whether to stonewall the question or not. “I do know,” he said finally, “and I can tell you honestly that if I had been in the mayor’s position, I would have hired Captain McAllister. I have only the highest respect for his expertise as a law-enforcement officer, his leadership ability and his integrity.”
He smiled crookedly. “I’d have been the loser, of course, so I can’t altogether regret the decision. That said, I’m aware of the frustration many sheriff’s deputies feel with inadequate equipment and salaries, a substandard crime lab and a lack of support from the top. It’s my belief Captain McAllister is exactly what this county needs to upgrade the department. As chief of the county’s largest city, I look forward to working closely with him once he becomes sheriff.”
He held up a hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, the two of us are currently employed by the city.” He eyed them. “Since I assume you’re heading to city hall next, I wouldn’t want you reporting to the mayor that we’re doing nothing but hanging around chatting with all of you.”
There was general laughter. Ignoring shouted questions that were more of the same, he and McAllister entered the building.
“Why don’t you come on up to my office?” he suggested.
Without saying a word, the captain stepped onto the elevator with him, got off with him and accompanied him down the hall to the door that said Police Chief in shiny gold script.
His assistant greeted them and brought two cups of coffee before Alec had even sat down behind his desk. The moment the door closed behind her, McAllister growled, “That son of a bitch.”
“Brock?”
“Who else?”
Alec felt a spark of humor. “You might have been talking about Chandler.”
Colin sprawled into a chair. “That works, too.” He brooded for a moment. “He’s okay.”
