Page 48 of Sugar & Shadows

Nolan had lost nearly everything when his parents died, including his ability to smile. But he was good at his job, and we worked well together.

“You look like shit.” He grunted into his coffee.

“You too.” I raised my mug in a toasting gesture.

His uniform was rumpled, his stubble bordering unkempt beard territory, and his hair was long enough to tuck behind his ears. These days, he looked nothing like the clean-cut marine he’d been a decade ago.

He tilted his head toward his office, and I followed, the flickering fluorescent lights above making my headache worse.

He gently closed the door behind me, then pinned me with a look. “What do you want, Harding?”

I shifted, discomfort setting in. He didn’t invite me to sit and I didn’t want to. This was not the kind of conversation that would encourage us to linger.

“We’ve got to work through the budget issue,” I said firmly.

His jaw ticked.

“You know the police overtime payout is out of control.”

“Because we lost months chasing rumors from Facebook.” His expression darkened. “We’ve got media, online conspiracy theorists, and arson. Not to mention all the petty vandalism recently.”

I nodded. Someone had defaced the Welcome to Maplewood highway sign again last week, changing it to Welcome to Murderville instead. Despite our best efforts, the Murderville label created by an online influencer had stuck.

“My deputies are exhausted, and I can’t approve time-off requests. Not when we can’t keep up as it is.” He set his coffee on his desk. “We’ve got to do our jobs. So we either pay the overtime, or you approve the new headcount I requested.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was the merry-go-round we spun on every time we spoke. Maplewood did not have the budget for this kind of police presence. But given all the necessary investigations and the peak in petty crimes over the last year, our public safety needs had changed. I’d been having the same conversation with Jo Ashburn, the fire chief.

We had the budget of a pleasant, sleepy little town with a solid tax base and excellent tourism revenue. But since the murder, our public service needs had changed, and there was no budget to catch up.

My stomach twisted. “I hate that the town fell apart over this murder⁠—”

“It wasn’t one murder,” he snapped. “Fuck, Gabe. This isn’t just about Will’s death. The town’s falling apart because no one trusts their neighbors anymore. You should have heard some of the wild stories coming in on the tipline. We’re still logging and working through them, and it’s been months.”

After Will McManus’s murder, we’d set up a police tipline, and it had received thousands of calls. Many of which were far less helpful than we’d hoped.

“And we’ve still got the state and the feds in here.” He brought his hands to his duty belt. “I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got. Seems like you should be more focused on your upcoming recall than on our overtime.”

Hackles rising, I placed my mug on the desk and crossed my arms. “I’ve got too much to do to worry about being voted out of office. If Maplewood wants me gone, then I will happily turn this job over to the next chump who wants it.”

Nolan’s eyes flared. “You sound different.”

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Like you’ve stopped trying to tell people what they want to hear.”

That comment was like a physical blow. Nolan didn’t pull punches. I was both offended and complimented by his candor, honestly. But I stood by my statement. If the town didn’t want me as mayor, then I didn’t want the job. Some days this position took more than I had to give, and anymore, I wasn’t sure I even had the skills to do it properly.

“For the record, I’m voting to keep you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But I sign your paychecks.”

“Eh. I’m biased, sure. But I also want what’s best for this place.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, some common ground between us.

“Something’s got to give,” I said, finally sitting in the hard chair in front of his desk. “I can’t keep convincing people things are okay when they’re not.”

Frowning, he sat as well. “So don’t.”