“Hope she loses the boyfriend,” Tommy said. “The dude’s an ass.”

I hoped she did, too. “She seems like a smart lady.” Not to mention downright sexy with those deep green eyes and long hair that reminded me of red and dark gold autumn leaves. Without thinking, I’d touched her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before remembering Tommy was sitting in the cruiser watching us. Not like me to forget my surroundings.

We got back to the station a little after the shift change. Jansen was still at the front, and I’d never seen a grown man pout before. It wasn’t pretty. His bottom lip was sticking out a mile. He lost more points.

“Night, Chief,” Tommy said before disappearing down the hall.

“Later, Tommy.” I wondered how long it would take my cops to figure out if I called you by your first name, it meant I liked you. Or maybe they’d just assume I went with Tommy because he was so young. It was a little game I’d played in Chicago, and only my partner had figured it out. That was back when I still called Jack by his first name, but those times were done. I did my best not to think of my ex-partner by any name these days.

“Who relieves you, Jansen?”

He leaned back in his chair and stuck his thumbs underneath his belt, or tried to. After some thumb fumbling, he finally gave up and crossed his hands over his beer gut. “Payton.”

“And where is Officer Payton?”

“Here, Chief.”

I turned. Kim Payton stood at the end of the hallway. Word had spread that I was here if she was calling me chief without an introduction. Her uniform was perfectly pressed and creased, and I gave her a nod of approval. She was on my list of possible saves.

Yeah, I had a list with two columns. Not that I was going to make any changes immediately. I needed to get the lay of the land, but my instincts were pretty good, and I’d already divided up the department into two groups. Gone and not gone. I’d give the gone ones a chance to change my mind, but so far Jansen wasn’t doing a good job of securing his future with the Blue Ridge Valley Police Department.

“You’re relieved,” I told Jansen, ending his punishment fifteen minutes early. See, I’m not that much of an asshole. I can be generous when the mood strikes.

“Do we lock the front door at night?” I asked Payton after Jansen waddled out.

“Never have.” Eyeing the messy desk, she frowned and began tidying up.

“Then let’s start with the nightly shift change. Too many crazies out there these days, and there’re only two in here after eleven, the duty officer and a dispatcher, right?” She nodded. “We’ll get an intercom installed so if someone comes by at three in the morning, we can check them out before opening up.”

“Good idea, Chief.”

Oh, I’m just full of good ideas. They had no clue. “Post a notice that I want everyone here Monday morning at seven for a brief meeting. Make sure the word gets out.”

“On it.” She pulled a sheet of copy paper from the desk and started writing.

I gave Officer Payton a point for her easy slide into accepting me as her new chief. I had a tendency to operate out of the box, like this points thing. It was something I’d started as the head of vice in Chicago when I’d had a problem child. The kid thought since he was the nephew of the commissioner, he could do as he pleased. I sat him down and told him he had three months to earn thirty points or I was transferring him out of vice and back onto the street. I don’t remember how I came up with the idea, and no one was more surprised than me that it worked. He ended up being one of my better detectives. He was happy. I was happy. The commissioner was happy.

The difference now was that I wasn’t going to tell my new department they were either getting points or losing them. Last thing I wanted was a bunch of cops kissing my ass. Each of my Blue Ridge Valley officers had six months to earn sixty points. How hard could ten points a month be, especially since I planned to be generous at giving them out?

Come time’s up, I planned to sit down with each one and discuss where they stood. Then the problem ones, I’d give another six months to get their act together…except for Moody and Jansen. I was pretty sure they’d be gone before sit-down time.

“See you Monday, if not before,” I told her as I walked out. I didn’t look back, but I slowed my steps until I heard the click of the lock. That earned her another point.

After I got home, I sat at the kitchen counter and pulled out the notebook I’d already created, a page for each of my officers, and entered the first points I’d awarded. Already I was having fun.

Finished with that, I swiveled on the bar stool and eyed the stack of boxes pushed against one wall of the living room. Nah. Not tackling those tonight. I had all day tomorrow and Sunday, having decided I wouldn’t make another appearance at the station until my official start day on Monday. I’d stirred things up enough, so I’d give my cops two days for all the gossip about me to die down.

A quick shower and I was in bed by midnight. The ceiling fan made a clicking noise as the blades turned, something I’d have to fix. I’d rented an apartment on the third floor so I could leave my windows open at night. The sounds here were foreign. No sirens, no cars passing under my window, no arguing or yelling from groups of kids out on the streets at a time when they should be tucked into their beds.

An owl somewhere nearby was asking, Hoo? Hoo? Hoo? That was pretty cool. A strong breeze rustled the needles of what I’d been told were eastern white pines. I grinned and closed my eyes, hoping I’d been successful in leaving my ghost behind, the one who’d paid me nightly visits back in Chicago.

An hour later I turned onto my stomach, put my pillow over my head, and cussed out that damned owl that wouldn’t shut up. This nature business was going to take some getting used to. Since I was determined to adjust to my new environment, I didn’t get up and close the window.

I was finally drifting off when Christine decided to pop in. I was hoping I’d left you behind.

She laughed, a sound I’d once loved hearing. Nice try, Dy. I can find you anywhere.

My therapist told me that I wasn’t going crazy having these conversations with my dead wife. That was a relief, believe me. He said when I was ready to let her go, I would stop hearing her voice in my head. I’d sure as hell hoped starting over somewhere far from our familiar haunts would do the trick. Obviously not. During the day I hardly thought of her anymore or what she’d done. Nights were a bitch, though.

She’d been a beautiful woman—ash-blonde hair, sapphire-blue eyes, and a perfect body that I’d worshipped many nights—and she’d caught my attention the first time I saw her. I’d thought she was my forever. I was sure as hell wrong on that one.

Ah, Dylan, don’t be so mean. You love me. I know you do.

I did once, but I got over you.

Did you really?

I refused to answer because I had a rule about lying to myself. I hoped I was. Prayed I was, but if she was still in my head… I squeezed my eyes tight, shutting out her sapphire-blue ones.

She didn’t show up as often as she had after everything had happened, but I hadn’t been able to put her to rest even though almost two years had passed. It was starting to piss me off. I understood it was because of how the end came, and I carried a ton of guilt that I hadn’t grasped how desperate and depressed she was. I’m a cop, trained to recognize desperation in people. My rage at what she’d done had blinded me, though, and I’d turned a deaf ear to her threats.

My therapist said I’m not responsible for the actions of others, but that’s damn easy for him to say when it wasn’t his wife who put a gun—my gun—in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

To quiet Christine’s voice, I visualized a red-haired, green-eyed, feisty bartender. That did the trick because my wife faded away, and I drifted off thinking of Red.