Page 28 of Wag More Bark Less

My body instantly bristled as I lowered into the cushioned chair. The wooden arms suddenly felt like a prison caging me in. “Can you repeat that? Because I thought you said leave request when I haven’t asked for any time off.”

“That’s the problem,” she said, steepling her hands. “You’ve been the police chief of Bluebell Springs for just shy of four years, and you’ve never once requested leave.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Only you would hear the words leave request and automatically assume you’re being put on probation.” Rosalyn shook her head, the tight ringlet curls framing her temples never moving. Her hair was always precisely styled, and I doubted a hurricane could disturb a single strand.

“I’ve taken days off,” I argued.

“Assigned days off,” she agreed, reaching for the manila folder placed off to the side of her keyboard.

“I don’t need additional time off, Mayor. Especially with Golden Days around the corner.”

And not with a feisty blonde with legs for days living next door. The busier I stayed, the less I had to deal with Miss Mayhem. Or so I hoped.

Dammit, why did she have to wander into the hardware store on the only day we’d be doing inventory during her stay? The only day I would be there? The last thing I needed was her winning favor with my family. They were big enough pains in my ass before. But now, I was downright dreading family dinner Sunday.

“Really, Rosalyn, I don’t want time off.”

She ignored me as she opened the folder and flipped through the contents.

“We’ll need all hands on deck to handle the influx of tourists.”

And general stupidity of locals. I didn’t have to explain this—even the quiet part I didn’t say out loud. Rosalyn had been the mayor going on six years. She knew how the annual fall festival made our town a little crazy. It was practically our Super Bowl. But her silence and unwavering expression unsettled me.

Fuck, was this an intervention? The Friday afternoon meeting made more sense now.

Rosalyn spun the open folder around and slid it to me so I could see the lined paper inside. Every box was filled with tiny font and dates. The sleep in my eyes made the letters a little blurry, but I didn’t dare wipe it away and give the mayor additional ammunition to prove her point.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked, lifting the top page to show me there were more underneath it. Those lines were filled as well.

“It looks like some sort of log.”

“It’s a list of every time you turned in a report, responded to a call, or inserted yourself in another officer’s incident on a scheduled day off.”

“I’m the police chief. I’m always on call. That’s the job.”

I skimmed the list, a bit insulted that someone went through the trouble of tracking my time. I loathed micromanagement. I spotted an entry from April and pointed to it, feeling smug. “This was a three-car accident after an ice storm. Of course I responded.” Perhaps I just needed to clear up the entries and she’d get off my ass.

“Hudson was working with the state troopers, and she had it handled before you even showed up.”

“This one.” I pointed to an entry from last September. “That escapee highland cow was on my grandparents’ property. Was I just supposed to ignore it?”

“You submitted the report an hour after you returned her to the Brooks’ farm.”

“So it’s a crime to get ahead on paperwork?”

Rosalyn let out a heavy, resigned sigh. “You’re an outstanding officer. I wouldn’t have begged you to take the position if I thought anything less.”

“I sense a but.”

“But, I hired Brenda Mason’s son, not some workaholic robot.”

It felt as though a vise grip reached into my chest and squeezed. It took every ounce of composure I had—which wasn’t many on so little sleep—to keep that pain from reflecting in my expression.

“That’s low, bringing my dead mother into this,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. I might be able to keep my face neutral, but irritation was thick in my words.

“You’ve left me no choice, Luke. Your mother would be incredibly proud of everything you’ve done for this town, but tell me she wouldn’t be ripping you a new asshole for refusing to take leave for four years? I’m doing what she would’ve wanted me to do and looking out for you.”