Page 4 of Devil's Hour
“I’ll remember this when it’s time to hand out assignments,” Royce quipped.
Ky hesitated for a second, then shrugged and took a big bite of the bear claw, signaling he’d take his chances.
An unexpected arrival cut their teasing and laughing short. Mayor Lynette Goodwin and a young man Royce assumed was her assistant came to an abrupt halt in the bullpen.
“Is this a bad time, Chief Rigby?” the mayor asked, sounding as severe as her prim suit looked.
“Of course not, Mayor,” Chief said, dusting the powdered sugar off her fingers. “We just completed a badge pinning ceremony for Sergeant Locke and are sharing a pastry together before all hell breaks loose.”
From the pinched expression on the mayor’s face, it already had.
“Let’s talk in my office,” Rigby said with a professional smile, gesturing toward her open door. “Carry on,” she told everyone gathered in the bullpen. Knowing the mayor was within listening range put a damper on the celebration. Sherry and Evangeline both hugged Royce and congratulated him once more before departing, and everyone else meandered back to their desks.
“Drinks at Joe’s tonight to celebrate Sergeant Locke,” Sawyer said to the room. “First round is on me.” In deference to the mayor’s arrival, Sawyer’s offer was met with silent gestures of approval—thumbs up, chair dancing, and fists punching the air.
Royce polished off his pastry and locked his gaze with Sawyer’s. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” A low whistle came from the vicinity of Ashcroft’s desk. Royce rolled his eyes and held up his middle finger about the time the chief stepped out of her office.Fuck.She’d seen them flip each other off or overheard them teasing and cursing one another plenty of times. It was a coping mechanism and something she understood well after decades of serving. Their unit had never felt like they needed to put on airs around Rigby, but he didn’t want to make her regret her decision to promote him.Way to go, Sergeant Dumbass.
“Sergeant Locke, will you join us, please?”
“Absolutely, Chief,” Royce said. As soon as she disappeared in her office again, he met Sawyer’s gaze. “I’m counting on you to guard my bear claws. Don’t let me down, Key.”
Sawyer saluted. “You can count on me, Sarge.”Could he ever.
Not wanting to keep Chief and the mayor waiting, he tossed a quick thanks over his shoulder before crossing the room. To say he was curious was grossly underestimating the energy pulsing through him. Stopping just inside the doorway, he said, “You wanted to see me, Chief?”
“Yes. Come in and close the door, please.” Rigby formally introduced Royce to the mayor and her assistant, Ryan Tedrick. After they shook hands, she waved him over to her desk. “I need you to look at this.” Royce could see a large freezer bag with what appeared to be a piece of paper inside. When he rounded her desk, he saw someone had cut out letters from magazines or newspapers to form words. The words formed ominous sentences that chilled his blood.
Dear Dishonorable Mayor Goodwin,
You promised crime reform and city revitalization. You vowed to be a good steward to the most impoverished communities and not turn your back on them. What happened to “We all win with Lyn?” Was it all a lie? An act to get elected? Do you know what happens to dishonest people? Allow us to give you a hint.
Liar, liar, now the city’s on fire. Soon you will be too.
The Purists
“Is this really necessary, Ellie?” the mayor asked, pulling Royce’s attention away from the letter.Ellie?Royce had never heard anyone refer to Ellen Rigby so casually, not even her wife.
“I’m afraid so, Lynette. I think you know it, too, or you wouldn’t have slipped it inside a Ziploc bag and brought it to me this morning.” She opened a drawer and pulled out two pairs of nitrile gloves, which she and Royce slipped on before Rigby pulled the letter out of its protective baggie.
“I feel so foolish,” the mayor said quietly. “This is probably a prank or harmless scare tactic.”
Royce looked at the neat rows of evenly sized letters and knew it was no prank. Whoever sent this letter was meticulous, and he thought the mode of communication was a smokescreen.
“I want you to leave that to us to determine,” Rigby said, carefully studying the letter before handing it to Royce.
The sender had pasted letters on copier paper, but it was heavier than what the city bought the PD to use. That told him the person was particular and valued quality. Royce flipped the letter over and studied the back, finding absolutely nothing notable—no smudges, food stains, or a stray fiber he could detect with his eyes. It was highly unlikely they’d be able to pull prints unless they belonged to the mayor or someone else close to her who might’ve found the letter first.
He glanced up and met Mayor Goodwin’s green eyes. She smoothed a hand over her sandy brown hair in case some defiant strands had managed to escape her tight bun. It was as close to a fidget as he’d ever seen from the unflappable woman. “Where and when did you receive the letter, Mayor Goodwin?”
“My husband found it this morning when he opened up the newspaper,” she said, sounding as calm and cool as ever. “He pulled the paper out of its plastic wrapper, unfolded it, and the letter fell faceup onto the table.” Royce found it odd her husband hadn’t accompanied her to the police station to report the incident but filed it away to address later. “Skip didn’t pick up the letter until he put on a pair of disposable gloves he keeps around for cleaning. He placed the letter in the Ziplock freezer bag and sealed it.”
“You didn’t touch it at any time?” Royce asked.
“No, Sergeant Locke. I found the letter on the kitchen table after I woke up and came downstairs for coffee. Skip threw out the rest of the paper, which is why I didn’t bag it and bring it also.” That seemed strange to Royce. Mr. Goodwin realized the letter might contain fingerprints but not the paper it was delivered in?
“Mr. Goodwin didn’t wake you up?”
She paused before answering, which felt significant to him. Why would she need to weigh her answer? “No. He decided to let me sleep in because I haven’t been feeling well.” Making his absence especially curious.