Page 71 of The Wolves Come at Night

Huston was standing at the window, looking west to downtown and the darkening sky.

Taylor knocked on the jamb. “Commander?”

“Come in and shut the door,” Huston said without turning around.

Taylor didn’t bother sitting.

Huston opened with a killer. “I’ve half a mind to take your badge and gun.”

“Ma’am—”

She whirled around and attacked, a small tiger in her fury. Taylor had never seen this side of her boss. It was unnerving.

“Shut up. You’re listening, not talking. You went off-book. You endangered the people of this city, your team, SWAT. There are steps we follow. There are actions we take. You inform the proper chain of command. Do you have any idea how bad this looks? What were you thinking?”

Taylor didn’t speak, only hiked a brow, and she could have sworn flames rose in Huston’s eyes.

“You may answer, smartass.”

“I was thinking I might have a chance to find Carson Conway. There was no way of knowing Theodore Burnkin had a basement full of explosives. The girl’s phone pinged and we went for it. We were trying to save her life.”

“You didn’t follow protocol—”

And that was it. The simmering volcano inside Taylor lit.

“Fuck protocol. A girl’s life was in danger. I did exactly the right thing, going in after her.”

“You didn’t know she was there at all. You had no confirmation. And you nearly got yourself and nine others killed, not to mention the suspect. And Carson Conway’s probably dead as well.

“I know that. I’m beating myself up enough. I don’t need your guilt trip, too.”

That took some of the fight out of Huston. “Taylor. Listen to me. The FBI has had Burnkin under observation for weeks. They knew he was buying up explosives. They have a whole team on him. If you’d taken five minutes to explore things, you would have known that. Instead, you strolled right up to his house, panicked the man, and he blew himself up. And probably Carson Conway, too.”

Shit.

“Listen, if the FBI is operating in my city, they need to fill me in. If they were watching him so closely, they should have known if he took Carson or not. And they should have flagged his file. We looked closely, and there was nothing to indicate—”

Huston ignored the latter comment. “Your city. Your city? Like the whole town revolves around you, and what you need? You have to play the game, Taylor. You need to start acting like a captain, not some rogue beat cop.”

“I am not after your job, Joan.”

Huston stopped dead, then leaned forward, hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Things have been weird with us ever since I took the captain position. Which you foisted upon me, if you recall. I was perfectly content running the Murder Squad. I don’t want this.” She waved a hand around the well-decorated office. “This isn’t my end game. I am not your enemy. I am not trying to push you out so I can have control. I am better suited to the street, and we both know it.”

Huston’s voice was steady, but there was an underlying surprise that Taylor had never heard before. “You might not know this, Taylor, but I did you a favor letting you come back, bringing you into the leadership. You lost your nerve after the shooting, after the death of the Pretender. He got the best of you—of us all—but you especially. I wanted to make sure you still had a home on the force, so I gave you one.”

“I did not lose my nerve. I got shot in the head, for Christ’s sake.”

“You don’t get it, do you? That man was working with us for months, on the inside. The city leaders wanted your head on a pike. I did you a favor. I went to bat for you. And you aren’t cut out for the street anymore. Today’s debacle proved that in spades.”

“That’s completely unfair. I was following a lead and it went south. It happens.”

“Not if you follow protocol. You are a danger to yourself and others, Taylor Jackson.”

“I—”

“And you’re off this case.”