7

Pastor Oliver Macpherson sat back and listened to the debate bouncing around him. Rogue’s Hollow urgently needed a new police chief. The city had hired one several weeks ago, but he died of a massive heart attack before being sworn in. In the scramble for a qualified replacement, the city council had narrowed down the list to one name—a controversial name—and so the debate raged. He’d sat in on the city council process many a time, but this was a first for him, the process to select a police chief. Oliver wanted to hear all sides, vowing to stay quiet unless asked and to help give the highlighted application impartial consideration.

The applicant had flown in for an interview. Oliver hadn’t been asked to sit in on that, but he’d been told that she’d acquitted herself quite well. According to Addie Getz, the woman answered every question thrown at her solidly, even antagonistic questions, and gave good, logical, thought-out answers. According to Mayor Douglas Dixon, it was the interview that sold him.

“Professional, thoughtful, experienced—just what we need,” he’d said to open this meeting. And the debate had started there, mostly between Dixon and Councilman Markarov.

Cole Markarov, local bed-and-breakfast owner, was one who’d asked hostile questions at the interview, and he was probably the most animated member of the council at this meeting. He didn’t want to hire the woman, and that didn’t surprise Oliver. The council’s first choice had been Cole’s friend and he’d pushed hard for his hire. Oliver didn’t think any replacement would satisfy Cole and especially not a woman. Cole didn’t think any woman was up for the position of police chief, an opinion he’d voiced often.

“A woman doesn’t have the judgment to lead,” he’d said.

“She killed a fourteen-year-old, for heaven’s sake,” he said now, throwing his hands up dramatically.

“A fourteen-year-old who looked thirty and was trying to take another officer’s gun.” Mayor Dixon continued to lobby for the applicant and stand up for her, which surprised Oliver a bit. Doug generally had an aversion to controversy, and controversy was written all over this woman. He wondered if there was an ulterior motive and then stopped himself. Doug needed to be given the benefit of the doubt. He’d said the woman would be an asset to the town; Oliver should take him at his word.

“So she says,” Cole huffed. “There’s no video of the incident; she could say anything.”

“Doug,” Casey Reno, owner of Rogue’s Hollow Bookstore and Notions, spoke up.

Oliver leaned forward; he respected Casey as a thoughtful person and valued her opinion.

“I know this woman is qualified. She’d probably have no trouble running our small department. But as much as it pains me to admit it, I’ll have to agree with Cole. She could have snowed us in the interview, told us what we want to hear. All the press she’s gotten, none of it is good. According to the local paper in Long Beach, even before the shooting, she had a reputation for cockiness, for bending the rules.”

Oliver didn’t miss the look of triumph Cole shot the mayor. Raising an eyebrow, he sat back. It wasn’t looking good. Rogue’s Hollow had simple—some said outdated—bylaws. Between the mayor and the four council members, the applicant needed a simple majority vote to be hired, but if two were solidly against, and so far only the mayor was solidly for, the math was tight. As Casey noted, she was more qualified than their first pick had been, overqualified, really. She’d run a police division in a large department, supervising around 150 officers plus another ten civilian employees. Here in Rogue’s Hollow, she’d be supervising eight officers plus three civilians.

“If she really was a problem before the shooting, why wasn’t she fired?” Dixon asked. “How could she rise to such a high rank?”

Oliver thought that was an interesting point. With all the bad press she’d gotten, if this woman were a proven problem employee, any city would have been justified in her firing. She hadn’t been fired, but according to Addie, during the interview, when asked why she wanted to leave, she seemed honest in stating, “The controversy surrounding the incident makes it impossible for me to do my job effectively.”

While Dixon pleaded his case to Casey, highlighting another truth that the woman never had an officially documented negative performance review, Oliver turned his attention to the last two council members: Addie Getz, co-owner of Rogue’s Hollow Inn and Suites, and Forest Wild, owner of the gas station and auto repair shop that bore his name, Wild Automotive. They were studying her résumé and hadn’t said much.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Oliver’s wife, Anna, had said that morning over breakfast. “I have a feeling about the woman. I believe she’ll be a good fit here.” Anna’s prayer group had been praying for a new chief ever since the old one retired nearly a year ago.

“Perhaps,” Oliver had said with a nod, happy Anna was engaged and smiling after the last round of chemo. “But she might need some divine intervention. You’d have to have been in a coma to not hear or read about how bad this shooting looks.”

Anna reached across and patted his hand. “Now, Ollie, we both know things can get distorted when politics are involved. She was never charged with a crime. My heart tells me she’s okay. A little grace is called for now. Pray for the council, that they give her a fair chance. She deserves at least that.”

He smiled and put his hand over hers. “I will. I do trust your feelings more than I would ever trust a news article.”

Oliver was not a member of the council. He attended meetings only to offer the opening prayer and guidance if requested. Because the council sought to be transparent, this was a public debate. The other non–council members in the room were some people with business interests in the area: the mayor’s brother, Roger, the manager of the market in town, and his wife, Helen; Bart Dover, manager of a local organic farm; Beto Acosta, CEO of a large, valley-wide home security company called Platinum Security Systems, or PSS; Pete Horning, owner of the Hollow Grind, a local coffee shop; Gwen Owens, the city treasurer; Arthur Goding, a local gadfly who sat in on every meeting; and a group of people Oliver knew were interested in changing Rogue’s Hollow’s policy on cannabis sales. Oliver couldn’t tell what their thoughts were. Arthur was playing on his phone, and the others were simply listening.

There was also an off-duty Jackson County sheriff’s deputy in attendance, Steve Logan. He didn’t live in Rogue’s Hollow but in Shady Cove. Oliver had spoken to him earlier, and he’d said he was simply interested in seeing how the process worked.

Earlier, when the debate started, a couple of Rogue’s Hollow officers had been in the back of the room, listening. But they were forced to leave when Tilly Dover, a local homeless woman and Bart’s sister—Oliver noted how Bart ignored her completely—had disrupted the meeting.

Tilly was a tortured soul Anna and Oliver had tried often to help. She’d been in and out of jail for the last few months, only recently returning to town. Instead of being happy about her release, she’d been uncharacteristically angry about something and profane, but Oliver couldn’t understand what she was going on about. When she’d started throwing things, Cole jumped in before Mayor Dixon did and asked the officers to escort her out. Since they hadn’t returned, Oliver guessed the poor girl had been arrested again. Tilly battled mental illness as well as drug addiction, and at times, like this morning, she seemed beyond help.

While Oliver considered everyone in attendance, he noted that so far, no one had inquired about their opinions concerning the applicant. What would Oliver say if they asked him?

Keeping Anna’s remarks in his mind, he prayed quietly for guidance. Was this California cop worth a shot?

“It’s time to put this to a vote,” Dixon said, crossing his arms. “We’ve been without a police chief for eight months; that’s too long. This woman has miles more experience than the next applicant on the list. She can start right away.”

“That’s another thing.” Cole ground his teeth, faced scrunched in disbelief. “What makes you think that if she does come, she’ll even stay? She’ll be bored out of her mind in two weeks.”

“We know where you stand, Cole.” Dixon shot him a look of pure impatience. “That’s one nay.” With an exaggerated turn of the head, he looked at Casey. “Casey?”

She rubbed her forehead and Oliver saw the struggle in her face.

“I can’t get past ‘fourteen-year-old boy.’ My daughter is fourteen, for heaven’s sake. Afraid I’m a nay as well.”

Dixon looked disappointed but he moved on. “Forest?”

Forest tugged on his beard, the perpetual twinkle in his eye making Oliver smile. He’d never known Forest to be down or unhappy about anything.

“I say give her a chance. Aye.”

Cole grunted.

“Addie? You’re the tiebreaker.”

“That I am.” She drew in a deep breath and looked at Oliver. “Pastor Mac, do you have a feeling one way or another?”

“He’s not a voting member,” Cole groused.

“I just want to know what he thinks. You’ve had your say, Cole.”

Oliver stifled a smile; sometimes Cole was more transparent than a four-year-old. “I’m inclined to offer a little grace here,” he said, injecting Anna’s sentiment. “I think she deserves a shot.”

Addie considered him for a moment. They went way back. She’d been on the church committee that hired Oliver eighteen years ago. Her nephew was the newest hire on the Rogue’s Hollow police force. But she had a mind of her own, and he knew she’d only agree with him if she were partway there already.

Addie nodded. “Okay. Well, I liked her at the interview. Struck me as sharp as a tack. I’m an aye.”

Dixon beamed. “The ayes have it. We have a new police chief.”

Oliver noted that the decision made Beto Acosta happy. His business was home security. He’d been tight with the last chief and was pro law enforcement.

The cannabis people huddled for a discussion. Oliver wondered if they thought maybe a top cop from California would be more tolerant of the idea of pot shops in town. Just about everyone prepared to leave.

“If she takes the job,” Cole sneered as he stood, sour grapes obvious.

Dixon ignored him and motioned to Gwen, who also doubled as their scribe, to enter everything into the record. “The letter offering her the position will go out in the morning.”

As they closed out the council meeting and stood to leave, Oliver wrote down the woman’s name, Tess O’Rourke, in his journal and promised to pray for her. If the divided council was any indication, if she did take the job, she was going to need a lot of prayer.