Page 7 of A Dye Hard Holiday

“Fair enough. I’ll introduce you when he arrives.” I had a good feeling about the candidate, but I would never force a partner on Adrian that wasn’t a good fit.

I turned my attention back to a man I greatly admired once Adrian and Wen left my office. “What can I do for you today, sir?”

“Unfortunately, I’m here on official town business,” Reardon said with a crooked smile. “Santa’s Village is owned by the township and four of the trustees were in my office first thing this morning asking what you’re going to do about the situation.”

“You’re here to twist the screws?” I questioned. “Surely, you were going to give me past noon to solve this crime.”

“I have every faith that you’ll catch the Christmas Bandit,” Reardon responded with a snicker.

“Christmas Bandit? He has a name already?”

“Yep, which means he’ll step up his game to get more attention. He’ll get sloppy and you can catch him. You’re welcome.”

“I hope it’s that easy,” I replied, but I had my doubts.

“Of course, it’s that easy; just ask the trustees.”

“I’ll be sure to call them if I need additional help from them. Other than this incident, how are things going?” I asked.

Shawn Reardon had never been a talkative man, so I was only expecting a clipped response. Instead, he relaxed into his chair and chatted with me about his new job until O’Malley informed me that Elijah Markham was there for his interview.

Reardon got to his feet. “Well, my work here is done anyway. I’m heading over to the paper for an interview with the editor.”

Instead of a formal handshake, Reardon clapped me on the shoulder and invited me to lunch later in the week.

“I don’t know,” I hemmed. “You can’t trust politicians. Next thing I know you’ll be asking me to make your tickets disappear when you get pulled over for speeding.”

Reardon laughed then said, “Wednesday at noon.”

“I’ll be there, sir.”

It turned out that I had nothing to worry about with Elijah Markham. By the time I followed Reardon out of my office, Elijah had made quick friends with Adrian and Wen. They stood chatting and laughing over a cup of coffee, which allowed me to observe the undercover detective from the Columbus Police Department. He was tall, about my height, with dark hair, a square jaw covered in stubble, and a good-natured grin. He wore dark denim jeans, boots, a pressed, black dress shirt, a gun tucked into a shoulder holster, and his badge hung from a chain around his neck. Quite honestly, the ruggedly handsome man looked like a character you expected to see on a television show.

Elijah Markham straightened his posture when he noticed me approaching. “Captain Roman-Wyatt?” he asked.

“And you must be Detective Markham.” We shook hands and I indicated for him to follow me to the office. I glanced over my shoulder and Adrian gave a thumbs-up before he and Wen headed out to extend the neighborhood canvas.

“Adrian seems like a standup guy,” Detective Markham said, earning brownie points.

“He’s the best,” I replied. “Tell me a little bit about yourself and why you think Blissville would be a good fit for you.”

“Well, I did eight years in the military right after high school—most of it spent in combat—then pursued a degree in criminal justice before I applied for the police academy. I was promoted through the ranks in Columbus at a fairly quick pace and jumped on my first opportunity to make detective. I probably should’ve thought it over a little longer because undercover vice was never my dream job and it seems the only way out is for me to transfer.” I had seen that with my own eyes and knew he spoke the truth.

“Tell me something about you that I won’t find in here.” I rapped my knuckles against the file that contained his employment history sitting on my desk. I saw his aptitude tests, his psychological exams, reports that extolled his accuracy with a firearm, and several commendations from when he was a patrol officer that told me he’d pull his weapon as a last resort. He was the kind of guy I wanted on my team.

“I had a four eighty-five batting average the last year I played on the police department softball team.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years, sir. I just couldn’t work it into my schedule when I was working undercover in a motorcycle gang,” Detective Markham said.

I’d known many undercover cops who took the wrong paths in life for a multitude of reasons. Most of them were placed in unfathomable conditions and often had to make some dicey decisions. Doing the right thing could get you killed. To some, staying alive meant crossing a line and justifying their actions without regard for those they hurt. I only wanted individuals with the highest integrity on my police force. I looked him square in the eyes and asked, “When you look at yourself in the mirror each night, what do you see?”

“A man who is proud of his service—both to his country and to the citizens I have sworn to protect. I see a man who knows the right decision is often the hardest, and I’m not afraid to make it. I’m a man who goes to sleep with a clear conscience, sir.”

“I think you’d make a great fit here, Detective Markham. Are you sure moving to Blissville is what you want?”

“I discarded the posting more than a dozen times, but I kept coming back to it. It just feels right to me.”