Читать книгу You, And No Other - Lynda Sandoval - Страница 10

It had taken an emergency pity party with Lexy, Erin and Faith, two extralarge pizzas, a box of Godiva chocolates and three bottles of wine, but she’d done it. Merely two days after her confrontation with Jonas, Cagney had regained her footing enough to set some ideas of her own in motion.

If Jonas thought she would simply hide and lick her wounds after their clash at the press conference, he was sadly mistaken. Life had hardened him, no doubt about that, but she’d toughened up, too. Enough to know that a large part of his armor was for self-protection. She knew him well enough to see past the cold veneer to the vulnerable guy inside, no matter how much he wanted to pretend that person no longer existed.

She’d poked around and learned that he’d earned his fortune doing something with computers and would be in Troublesome Gulch until the hospital wing was finished, which meant months. Perfect. They might never be a couple again, but by the time he left, they would be friends if it killed her. They’d have their closure, if nothing else. How exactly to break through his steel shell and make all that happen … well, she wasn’t sure yet. But she’d figure out a way.

This wasn’t over between them.

Not by a long shot.

She’d just finished her patrol shift and had stopped by the city building to drop off some paperwork at the human resources department. As she walked by the conference room, she caught the sound of her father’s angry voice. It surprised her enough to stop her in her tracks. Cold and in command was more his style—at least in public. Had to keep up that image, after all.

Pausing out of sight by the door, she leaned her head back against the brick wall and eavesdropped.

“Look, the hospital wing is one thing—”

“It’s a great thing,” Walt Hennessy said.

“Whatever. The point is, we don’t have the available space, nor do we have the need, for some idiotic youth center on top of that,” her father said. “If there are displaced teens loitering about this town, we need to ticket them instead of rewarding their poor behavior with a fun place to hang out.”

“Sorry to disagree, Chief Bishop,” came none other than Jonas’s voice, not sounding sorry at all, “but statistically, towns with designated after-school hangouts—especially for the underprivileged kids whose families might not be able to afford involving them in school or community sponsored activities like sports—have far lower crime rates.”

Chief and Jonas in a room together?

Yeah, Cagney wasn’t going anywhere.

“Well, thank you for the lesson on crime, Eberhardt,” Chief said, barely able to hold back his sneer. Clearly, he didn’t appreciate being one-upped by the kid he’d effectively run out of town. “I guess you’d know.”

“That I would. Hence my vested interest.”

Chief’s disgust threaded through his words. “Right. However, I might point out that I have a helluva lot more experience with law enforcement than you do.”

“This isn’t about law enforcement, Chief,” Mayor Ron Blackman interjected. “It’s about serving the needs of our community, and Jonas has an excellent point.”

Cagney grinned, in spite of herself. The fact that the city leaders were on a first-name basis with Jonas—and on his side—had to be killing Chief. Priceless.

Blackman continued, “We need to give these kids something to do besides causing trouble.”

“Isn’t that what their parents are for?” Chief barked.

“Bill,” Walt Hennessy said, his tone chastising. “As one of the most prominent members of our community, your attitude is surprising. I don’t understand why you’re so against such a positive improvement for the Gulch. You more than anyone should know that not every child has the advantage of involved parents like yourself.”

Like Chief? Cagney thought, muffling a snort. Boy, Hennessy had no clue how off base he was. She honestly couldn’t believe Chief had managed to hide his true nature from an entire city for so many years.

“Well, then, the neglectful parents need to be punished somehow,” Chief sputtered. “Why should we have to cater to these people?”

“Because these people are citizens of Troublesome Gulch,” the mayor said, his tone indignant. “And Troublesome Gulch isn’t a prison, nor is it some elitist country-club community. It’s a town in which people of all socioeconomic levels are welcome. No one appointed us judge, jury and executioner. We aren’t the moral police, either.”

“It’s our job to provide services to the citizens,” one of the female city council members said, which—Cagney knew—would enrage her father even more. He hated to be contradicted by women. “All the citizens. Perhaps you’ve lost a bit of perspective, Chief Bishop. A lot of those parents you refer to as neglectful simply have to work more than one job to make ends meet.”

Glee bubbled up in Cagney’s throat. She smacked a palm over her mouth and swallowed to avoid busting into laughter and getting caught spying. But, man, she loved witnessing her father outnumbered and outwitted.

“Well, the fact remains, we don’t have available space in the areas zoned for such business,” Chief said, his tone stiff. “It’s a moot point. Is there even money left in this year’s budget for nonsense like this, Walt?”

“I’ll be funding the majority of it,” Jonas said, shooting down that argument.

A flash of inspiration struck Cagney, and she jolted.

Wait one minute.

This was her chance, staring her in the face.

She could subtly stand up to her father, in front of witnesses, and set her plan with Jonas into motion by offering one simple suggestion. She’d pay dearly for this later with Chief, but who the hell cared? What could he do—fire her? She wasn’t his minor child anymore. She turned into the doorway and rapped her knuckles on the open door.

Jonas, Chief, Walt Hennessy, Mayor Blackman and the entire city council glanced toward her at the sound. She smiled. “Sorry to interrupt. I was walking by and happened to catch some of your debate. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she fibbed, “but I think I might have an excellent solution.”

“Officer Bishop, don’t you have duties to attend to?” her father asked in a voice as cold and stinging as dry ice.

“As a matter of fact, no,” she said, saccharine sweet. “I’m just off shift.”

The mayor’s chair scraped back, and he stood. “Come in, come in.” He glanced toward the council. “I’m sure you all know Chief Bishop’s youngest daughter, Cagney, one of our esteemed police officers.”

Nods and murmured hellos followed.

Cagney didn’t know if she would use the word esteemed to describe her half-hearted contribution to public safety, but whatever. It meant a paycheck every two weeks.

“Have a seat,” Blackman said. “What brainstorm have you come up with, dear? Goodness knows, we’re just going in circles here and could use a fresh perspective.”

As she took a seat, she glanced surreptitiously at both her father and Jonas. Chief looked red-faced and ready to blow a gasket, and Jonas? Confused and more than a little intrigued. Maybe a tad annoyed, too, but so be it. She’d had enough of impossible men to last her ten lifetimes.

Steepling her hands on the table before her, she addressed the eager members of the group, letting her gaze pass over the two men who probably wished she’d never happened to come by. “As you all know, I purchased and renovated the old horse saddle plant several years ago.”

“And you did a fine job,” Hennessy blustered.

As if he knew. She smiled anyway. “Thank you. What you all might not know is this—I received approval from the building inspectors to use the space as residential property once I’d finished, but it’s still in an area of town zoned for business. And the building is extremely large, of course, having been a manufacturing plant.”

“Three stories tall, isn’t it, Cagney?” the mayor asked.

She nodded. “More than fifteen thousand square feet, all told. I chose to live on the second and third floors, and I left the street level floor unfinished. It’s just over five thousand square feet of wide open warehouse space.”

“What’s your point, Cagney?” her father growled. “We’re having a meeting here, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Walt frowned at him. “For God’s sake, Bill, let the woman talk. She’s not a child anymore.”

“She is my employee.”

“Yes, well, right now she’s off duty and she’s here as a citizen of Troublesome Gulch,” Mayor Blackman snapped. “So let her speak her piece.”

She didn’t even look at her father. “My point is, I would be more than happy to allow the city use of the street-level space to build the youth center you’re discussing, since, as Chief says, we’re a bit short on free space in the city proper. Like Jonas, I’ve thought for years now that we need a teen center in the Gulch.”

Excitement rippled through the room.

“That’s ridiculous,” Chief said. “You don’t want the town’s riff-raff loitering in the same building as your home. The place will need an almost constant police presence.”

He was falling right into her trap. It was almost too easy. “Makes it convenient, then, since I happen to be a police officer. And I relate well with disadvantaged teens, none of whom I consider riffraff. As a matter of fact—” she glanced at the council members “—I’d be willing to hand over my patrol duties and take a fulltime assignment at the youth center, since Chief thinks we need round-the-clock law enforcement there. I’ve worked as a resource officer at the high school. I know a lot of these kids.”

“Oh, Cagney, are you sure?” Blackman asked. “You’re such a valuable member of the force.”

She choked back a scoff. “I’m more than sure. Most of the cities and towns in Colorado have community policing projects like this. We don’t, and that’s a shame. Law enforcement shouldn’t be strictly punitive.”

“That’s true,” Hennessy mused.

She rushed ahead. “As for the budget concerns—”

“There are no budget concerns,” Jonas said. “I can pay for the center.”

She inclined her head. “Okay, then to get the community involved. I’d love to seek donations of building supplies from local businesses and renovate the space myself to save the city—and our benefactor—their money, whether it’s necessary or not.” Cagney shrugged. “I certainly have the renovation experience, and I think it’s important to involve the residents of the Gulch as much as possible.”

Murmurs filled the space.

“Just think how much local business donations will increase community investment in the place,” she added.

Again, eager conversation ensued.

“Wait one damn minute,” Chief barked, silencing everyone. “Officer Bishop, you are being insubordinate. It is not your place to waltz into a meeting to which you weren’t invited and change your duty assignment on a whim.”

“For goodness sake, Chief, stop being such an unreasonable taskmaster,” the mayor said, spreading his arms. “I realize the young lady is your daughter and your employee, but she’s what—thirty years old, Cagney?”

“Yes.”

“Not to mention, she’s making a generous offer and a professional sacrifice. There is no reason to accuse her of insubordination when she’s showing the kind of community spirit that makes Troublesome Gulch a great place to live. You should be proud of Cagney instead of reprimanding her.”

“She should receive a commendation,” Hennessy added.

Cagney started to say that wasn’t necessary, but—

“And considering the fact that we increased your budget so you could hire five new officers this year, surely you can spare one for this excellent cause,” fired off one of the longest-standing, most respected city council members, looking over his half glasses at Chief. “Why is it we don’t have any community policing projects in this town, Bill?” he asked.

The room hung in suspense.

Chief didn’t bother answering the council member’s question. Cagney knew he wasn’t of the kiss-babies-and-hand-out-balloons school of law enforcement. “Fine. Open your youth center, but I’ll assign an officer of my choosing,” he said finally, struggling to hide his rage.