The Stolen Bride

He’d never liked Joseph, but he’d always treated him fairly. In return, Joseph had given the chief the benefit of the doubt. Although he was certain his father had been framed, he’d assumed Norris simply failed to recognize that.

Now he wondered if he’d been wrong. And whether his shortsightedness was going to get him and Erin killed.

Chapter Five

Joseph stopped in front of the porch. “Remember the plan,” he told Erin in a low voice.

“You bet.” She didn’t chatter or seek reassurance. Not that he would mind comforting her, but not under the circumstances. “Can you tell who it is?”

“It’s the chief.”

“Why would he follow us?”

He kept his face averted as Norris approached, so he couldn’t be seen conversing. He hoped the chief believed that he’d left Erin at her mother’s house, and he intended to keep it that way. “I don’t know. He looks mad.”

“He wouldn’t shoot us, would he?”

“Let’s hope not.”

After slipping the keys to Erin, Joseph opened his door and eased out to face his boss. He had a good three inches on the chief, but you didn’t judge a man like Edgar Norris by his size. Or by the spare tire around his waist or the fact that he dyed what was left of his hair. He had kick-butt body language and the grit to back it up.

Norris’s fist pounded Joseph’s trunk, making the car creak on its aging springs. “What the hell did you think you were doing when you barged into Erin Marshall’s dressing room?”

“I wanted to wish an old friend well,” he replied evenly.

“Don’t lie to me,” the man growled. “I told you to leave Alice’s case alone. You’re harassing one of this town’s leading families, and now you’ve managed to screw up the wedding of the year.”

“I needed to clarify some points to wrap up my report,” he said. “I didn’t expect to discover that her fiancé had pulled a con job on her.”

“Nobody forced that woman into a bridal gown.”

“There’s more than one kind of force,” he said.

“You don’t know understand the kind of fallout there’s going to be,” the chief snapped. “Do you have any idea how a public humiliation like this is going to hurt Chet Dever’s campaign?”

“What does Chet Dever’s campaign have to do with the Sundown Valley Police Department, other than the fact that your son is managing it?” Joseph shot back. It wasn’t the smartest remark to make under the circumstances. Sometimes retorts flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Although the chief’s face darkened, he kept himself under control. “You’re injecting your personal feelings into police business. When it comes to the powerful people in this town, there’s a chip on your shoulder and everyone knows it.”

“Everyone being Gene?” He’d gone too far, Joseph thought. “I take that back.”

“You’re going to wish you could take a lot of things back,” Norris said. “You’ve made enemies all over town, embarrassed this force and contradicted my direct order. As of right now, I’m busting you back to patrol.”

“Wait a minute!” A demotion made it unlikely Joseph would ever advance in this department or, possibly, any other. Thank goodness the police union had established protections for its member. “I have the right to appeal.”

“I’ll throw in a few more charges to make it look good.” Satisfaction was written all over the chief’s face. “Like the fact that you drew a gun on me.”

“I haven’t touched my weapon!”

“It’s my word against yours. Who do you think people will believe?”

Joseph’s passenger door swung open. Before he could call out that the situation might still be dangerous, Erin’s resolute face appeared above the car. “I think they might believe me,” she said. “I heard the whole thing.”

The chief’s Adam’s apple performed a couple of rapid bobs. “Miss Marshall. I didn’t see you.”

“So I gathered.” She studied him levelly.

“This officer violated a direct order.” Norris recovered a trace of his bluster. “I have an obligation to discipline him.”

“What I don’t understand,” Erin said, “is why you accused him of drawing his gun when I can see that it’s still in its holster.”

She probably couldn’t see that, since Joseph’s holster was beneath his jacket. It didn’t matter. She’d made her point.

The chief gritted his teeth. He wasn’t accustomed to backing down and Joseph knew he’d take his pound of flesh one way or another. Finally, he said, “You’re on administrative leave for a month, Lowery. Paid leave,” he said in Erin’s direction.

“You need to rethink your priorities,” he continued, turning toward Joseph, “and decide whether you’re ready to follow the chain of command or whether you’d rather work somewhere else.”

“And when I come back?”

“There’ll be no action taken unless you do something else to deserve it.” Shutting off further discussion, Norris returned to his car. He gunned the motor, shot backward and spun away. Gravel spattered off Joseph’s car.