“This is the thing with the golf club, Matt?”
Westboard nodded. “Yep.”
“It was actually a nine-iron, El-Tee,” said Thomas Chisolm. The veteran grinned at the lieutenant. His thin, white scar which ran from his temple to jaw melted into his laugh-lines. “I was clearing Holy Family when the call came out, so I went over there.”
“A nine-iron, huh?” Saylor asked, willingly playing the role of straight man.
Chisolm nodded. “Yeah. And you should’ve seen the divots all over the victim’s face. The guy must be a terrible golfer.”
The roll call room rumbled with laughter as Saylor added, “That’s what handicaps are for, Tom.”
When laughter subsided, Saylor asked Westboard, “Is this Cannon Street address any good for Carepi?”
Westboard shook his head no. “It’s over a year old.”
“Okay. Next item. It seems that the Chief and the Sheriff are in a pissing match about parking. So, until further notice, do not park your personal vehicles in the county lot.” He raised his hands to quell the uproar. “Hold on, hold on. I think this will blow over in a few days. Just park on Adams for now and walk the half-block.”
Katie nodded to herself. She did that anyway. The police station was located right next to the county jail and there were windows in the jail that looked right out onto the county parking lot. She wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of inmates looking down at her as she parked her personal car and walked into the station. Or going home, for that matter.
Saylor read the information on two escapees. Katie jotted down their information.
“Detective Tower is working a stranger-to-stranger rape that happened in Clemons Park,” Saylor read from the clipboard. “No suspect description, but the victim was a jogger. So stop and do a field interview on any suspicious males in that area. Give Tower a heads up if you do.”
He looked up at the assembled shift. “Anyone have anything for the shift?”
No answer.
“All right, then.” He stepped away from the lectern. The sergeants began the sector table meetings. Saylor strode to the Adam sector table and leaned down toward Katie.
“MacLeod, stop by and see me before you head out, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” She wondered what for, but didn’t ask.
Saylor half-smiled, half-nodded at her, turned on his heel and left the room.
“That’s it, MacLeod,” O’Sullivan said. “All your nefarious deeds have caught up with you.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You know, you talk like a bad novel, Sully.”
“He’s right, though,” Officer Anthony Battaglia said. “Why else would the lieutenant call you in there if it wasn’t to let you go?”
“Maybe he wants to know how I put up with all your bullshit.”
Battaglia shook his head. “Nah, he’s firing you.”
“It’s the axe fer ya, lass,” Sully said in exaggerated Irish brogue.
“What size shirt do you wear, Katie?” Battaglia asked, hammering on the age-old cop joke. “I’ll buy it from you when they let you go.”
“Gee, thanks, Batts,” Katie shot back. “You want to buy my bra, too? It’s about your size.”
There was a rumble of laughter at the table.
“All right, that’s enough,” Sergeant Miyamoto Shen said, shaking his head and smiling. “This crew is way too loose. You’re going to get me in trouble with the lieutenant.”
The platoon quieted down. Shen ran through a few administrative items and released them.
Katie stood and walked to the lieutenant’s office. At the door, she hesitated before knocking. She wondered what he could want, but drew a blank. Never one to avoid confronting issues, she raised her hand and rapped on the door.
“Come in,” Saylor called.
Katie opened the door and stepped into the small office. Saylor finished signing some paperwork and looked up.
“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk.
Uh-oh. Sitting down is usually a bad thing.
Katie took a seat and said nothing.
Saylor folded his hands and smiled at her. “How’re you doing, MacLeod?”
“I’m fine, sir.”
Saylor watched her for a moment, nodding slowly. She wondered what he was thinking about. She’d been in some serious situations over the last couple of years, including being shot at by the Scarface robber. That hadn’t been nearly as bad as the incident on the Post Street Bridge when the mentally disturbed father dangled his own infant son over the edge. Katie pressed her lips together and tried to force the image from her mind before she saw him release his grip, letting the child tumble into the Looking Glass River hundreds of feet below.
Did Saylor think she hadn’t rebounded from those events?
A momentary anger flared in the pit of Katie’s stomach. If she were a man, would he be worried about-
“Good,” Saylor said. “You seem fine. I know you’ve been through some traumatic experiences in the last couple of years. Some cops have trouble with that. You seem to be coping well.”
“I am.”
“Good,” Saylor repeated. “That’s good.”
Katie waited, watching him cautiously.
Saylor smiled again and reached for a file. “You put your application in for a Field Training Officer position last month. All the applications were reviewed by shift lieutenants and the captain has made his selections.”
And I didn’t get it because you think I’m a basket case?
Saylor extended his hand. “Congratulations, MacLeod. You were selected. You’ll get the two percent pay raise as soon as your first recruit is assigned to you.”
Katie’s mouth fell open. “I got it!”
Saylor nodded. “You got it. Shen gave you a great recommendation and your work speaks for itself. Congratulations.”
A huge smile spread across Katie’s face. She reached out, took Saylor’s proffered hand and shook it. “Thank you. I…thank you, sir.”
“Officer Ken Travis will be assigned to you in his third rotation,” Saylor told her. “He’s with Bates now.”
“Travis? He’s the one that used to be a reserve?”
“Yes.”
Katie nodded. Travis had ridden with her on a couple of occasions. He was a solid troop and would be a good first recruit for her. It occurred to her that this was likely the reason Saylor made the assignment.
“I won’t let you down, sir,” Katie said.
“I know,” Saylor said.
Katie left his office, gathered her patrol bag and seemingly floated down to the basement sally-port to get a car from swing shift. Sergeant Shen looked up at her from his clipboard.
“How’d it go?” he asked, suppressing a grin.
“I got the FTO spot,” Katie answered. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Shen nodded. “I founded out when I came in tonight. But the lieutenant wanted to tell you himself.”
“Well, thanks for whatever you said to him to make it happen, sergeant.”
Shen shook his head. “All I did was tell the truth. You’re a good troop, MacLeod. You deserve it.”
Katie felt a small surge of pride. Her cheeks warmed slightly. “Thanks,” she managed.
“Hey, Sarge!” Battaglia interrupted from across the sally port. “Okay if Sully and I ride together?”
Shen regarded him. “Didn’t you two ride together last night?”
“Yeah.”
“And the night before?”
“Yeah. So? We’re a good team.”
Shen pretended to sigh. “Fine, fine. Ride together. But this is the last time.” He made a notation on the markup.
“Last time until tomorrow, you mean,” Katie joked.
Shen shrugged. “They do good work together. I’d like to see more two-officer cars out there, if we had the staffing for it.”
“Hey, MacLeod!” Battaglia called. “How much for that shirt?”
Katie waited until Shen glanced down at the clipboard and shot Battaglia the bird.
“Promises, promises,” Battaglia said with a grin.