Read Online The Hunk Next Door by Debra Webb, Regan Black - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Debra Webb, Regan Black
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seat.
“Have you found the vandals?”
She’d had the entire twenty seconds of walking across the police station to read that report. “Not yet. The team posted last night didn’t encounter any more trouble.” She shifted her full attention to Martin. “Have you come up with plan of action for restoring the welcome sign?”
“I met with the decorating company, yes. They agreed to create a temporary sign while the original is removed and sent for restoration.”
Mayor Scott cleared his throat. “The town council released the appropriate funds.”
“That is good news,” Abby said. “My officers have reorganized their schedules and patrol routes to—”
“Is that absolutely necessary?” Martin interrupted.
“Yes, Mr. Filmore,” Abby replied, struggling for control. “As I explained yesterday, based on recent events, I believe the extra patrols are imperative to keeping this city safe. In fact, I was about to ask—” she glanced at the mayor “—for a small slice of the emergency funds to hire a few extra officers from Baltimore for the opening weekend.”
“No.”
She blinked at the mayor’s stern response. “Excuse me?”
“We’ve had enough public attention of the wrong kind. The media has painted a target on Belclare. We’ll be lucky if we aren’t facing a ghost town this weekend. Are you trying to bankrupt our city, Chief?”
Abby clamped her mouth shut, startled by this one-hundred-eighty degree turnaround from the man who didn’t believe in the concept of bad publicity. How had everything and everyone around her changed so suddenly? The answer followed hot on the heels of that question. Fear. The kind of fear her actions had brought to the citizens of Belclare changed people.
Nothing she could do about that. Protecting the citizens was her job. Appeasing them—if it got in the way—was not.
“I concur,” Mr. Filmore added with an arrogant tilt of his chin.
Of course he concurred. These guys were the drama twins, each with a slightly differing agenda. She laced her fingers together, wishing for her own cup of coffee, but that would have to wait. “The town council will approve the overtime expenses for my officers.” It wasn’t a question. Fortunately for the mayor, he seemed to understand that, as well. A vague dip of his head showed acknowledgment even if he would never say as much out loud. She moved on. “My officers are not on patrol to threaten or interfere with anyone, but in our experience a vigilant, visible presence is its own deterrent.”
“It didn’t deter more trouble on your street last night,” Filmore blurted out, his face turning red with frustration. “You all but sent out engraved invitations for every criminal to come test you. Belclare will pay the ultimate price.”
She bit back the sharp retort dancing on the tip of her tongue. “What would you have me do differently, Mr. Filmore?”
His mouth flapped like a fish for several seconds. “I’m not qualified to say, but I have gumption enough to know what you’ve done so far isn’t working.” He turned to the mayor. “All I know is that what you’re doing is ruining the most important time of year for our town.”
Gutless wonders, both of them, she thought. Their support for her success with the drug bust had shifted with the arrival of the very first federal agent. The instant the first threat hit the airwaves she was public enemy number one with these two men.
“Well, I must admit the generous promotional spots Deke Maynard provided should go a long way to salvaging opening weekend,” Mayor Scott allowed, smoothing a hand over his glaring holiday-plaid tie.
Ghost town or a decent turnout? She wished he’d pick a theory and stick with it.
On the short drive into the office, she’d only caught a teaser about Deke’s upcoming call-in interview on the radio. The man rarely bothered with publicity and she knew it made him uncomfortable, but if he was in her corner, urging people to
“Have you found the vandals?”
She’d had the entire twenty seconds of walking across the police station to read that report. “Not yet. The team posted last night didn’t encounter any more trouble.” She shifted her full attention to Martin. “Have you come up with plan of action for restoring the welcome sign?”
“I met with the decorating company, yes. They agreed to create a temporary sign while the original is removed and sent for restoration.”
Mayor Scott cleared his throat. “The town council released the appropriate funds.”
“That is good news,” Abby said. “My officers have reorganized their schedules and patrol routes to—”
“Is that absolutely necessary?” Martin interrupted.
“Yes, Mr. Filmore,” Abby replied, struggling for control. “As I explained yesterday, based on recent events, I believe the extra patrols are imperative to keeping this city safe. In fact, I was about to ask—” she glanced at the mayor “—for a small slice of the emergency funds to hire a few extra officers from Baltimore for the opening weekend.”
“No.”
She blinked at the mayor’s stern response. “Excuse me?”
“We’ve had enough public attention of the wrong kind. The media has painted a target on Belclare. We’ll be lucky if we aren’t facing a ghost town this weekend. Are you trying to bankrupt our city, Chief?”
Abby clamped her mouth shut, startled by this one-hundred-eighty degree turnaround from the man who didn’t believe in the concept of bad publicity. How had everything and everyone around her changed so suddenly? The answer followed hot on the heels of that question. Fear. The kind of fear her actions had brought to the citizens of Belclare changed people.
Nothing she could do about that. Protecting the citizens was her job. Appeasing them—if it got in the way—was not.
“I concur,” Mr. Filmore added with an arrogant tilt of his chin.
Of course he concurred. These guys were the drama twins, each with a slightly differing agenda. She laced her fingers together, wishing for her own cup of coffee, but that would have to wait. “The town council will approve the overtime expenses for my officers.” It wasn’t a question. Fortunately for the mayor, he seemed to understand that, as well. A vague dip of his head showed acknowledgment even if he would never say as much out loud. She moved on. “My officers are not on patrol to threaten or interfere with anyone, but in our experience a vigilant, visible presence is its own deterrent.”
“It didn’t deter more trouble on your street last night,” Filmore blurted out, his face turning red with frustration. “You all but sent out engraved invitations for every criminal to come test you. Belclare will pay the ultimate price.”
She bit back the sharp retort dancing on the tip of her tongue. “What would you have me do differently, Mr. Filmore?”
His mouth flapped like a fish for several seconds. “I’m not qualified to say, but I have gumption enough to know what you’ve done so far isn’t working.” He turned to the mayor. “All I know is that what you’re doing is ruining the most important time of year for our town.”
Gutless wonders, both of them, she thought. Their support for her success with the drug bust had shifted with the arrival of the very first federal agent. The instant the first threat hit the airwaves she was public enemy number one with these two men.
“Well, I must admit the generous promotional spots Deke Maynard provided should go a long way to salvaging opening weekend,” Mayor Scott allowed, smoothing a hand over his glaring holiday-plaid tie.
Ghost town or a decent turnout? She wished he’d pick a theory and stick with it.
On the short drive into the office, she’d only caught a teaser about Deke’s upcoming call-in interview on the radio. The man rarely bothered with publicity and she knew it made him uncomfortable, but if he was in her corner, urging people to
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