At least the sheriff didn’t look annoyed. In fact, he seemed to be controlling a smile. She liked Noah. An ex-Chicago police detective, he was sharp, professional and moving on to work for the marshal service.
“I thought you were off today, Noah,” Roy said, remaining relaxed in his chair, exercising his familiarity with their boss for Grace’s benefit.
“I just came by to get something.” Noah stopped and eyed Roy. “Do me a favor.”
“Name it.”
“Order another uniform shirt.”
“But, boss—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Shaking his head, Noah walked to his desk. “We’ve had this discussion twice already.”
Roy moved his hands from behind his head and glared at Grace. So now she was to blame for him blowing his diet?
“Who’s on patrol?” Noah asked.
“I am.” She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I was just headed out. Need something?”
“Take a few traffic cones with you in case you run into any mudslides. The rain came down fairly hard around midnight.”
Grace nodded, making a mental note to jot down the information. She’d started a notebook to record all the little things the other deputies already knew from growing up here. The doorknob shook. Someone outside was trying to open the door, so she pulled her hand back.
It was Clarence. Oh, great.
“Good morning, Mayor,” she said and stepped aside.
He crossed the threshold, his sour expression changing the instant he noticed the men. “Mornin’ Sheriff Calder, deputies,” he said, nodding at them. He stopped in front of Roy. “Don’t we have money in the budget for uniforms? Get yourself a bigger size, son, before you pop a button and take out someone’s eye.”
Roy’s face turned red. He straightened, sucking in his gut.
Grace sighed. Clarence was a politician. How could he not understand diplomacy? And how on earth had he stayed in office for so long?
“What can I do for you, Mayor?” Noah pulled a folder out of his desk drawer.
“Actually, I stopped by to see Grace.” Clarence turned to look her up and down, frowning first at her jeans, then at her cap. “Where are you off to?”
“I’m on duty.”
“We should discuss a proper uniform for the department. Maybe tan slacks to match the shirt,” he said, glancing at Noah. “What do you think?”
“Waste of money. Peace officers in this county have been wearing jeans as far back as I can remember. The shirt’s enough.”
“Just because something’s always been done a certain way doesn’t make it right,” Clarence said, his tone querulous.
Noah smiled. “No, but tan slacks aren’t going to help the public identify the sheriff or deputies. Anyway, not my call. Hash it out with the new sheriff.”
Clarence grunted. “What do you think, Grace?”
At first, she was speechless. She refused to look at Roy or Danny. “Sheriff Calder is right. Whoever replaces him should help make that decision.”
Her uncle’s gaze narrowed. “I’ll walk you out. I need to have a word with you.”
Nodding, she briefly met Noah’s sympathetic eyes. He was a good sheriff, a good man. Filling his shoes wouldn’t be easy.
“You left the party early,” Clarence said once they were on the sidewalk. His face lit up at the sight of a blonde middle-aged woman walking toward them. He passed a hand over the sparse strands of auburn hair slicked across his pink scalp.
“I wasn’t feeling well.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Between him and Ben, she’d felt a bit off.
“Morning, Laura.” Clarence and the woman exchanged smiles as she passed.
“Do you know where the traffic cones are stored?”
He snapped his attention back to Grace. “How would I know? Don’t try and change the subject.”
“What subject?” She remembered the storage closet behind the office and studied her set of keys. “That I left early? So what?”
“Not that. I want to know about Ben. Hilda’s boy.”
Grace glanced up. “What about him?”
“It seemed you two had a lot to talk about.” Clarence’s small, shrewd eyes searched her face.
She hurried her pace in case she blushed. “Yup, the McAllisters and the weather. It was a fascinating discussion.”
“Don’t you sass me, young lady.”
“Mayor Leland, I’m on duty. I am working.” She turned left down the narrow alley.
“Where are we going?”
“The storage closet behind the office.”
“Why did we have to come this way? We could’ve used the back door.”
She preferred that he hadn’t followed at all. Ignoring him, she located the correct key, found the cones and carried them to the truck. Of course, Clarence stayed on her heels. She opened the driver’s door.
“You hold on a minute,” he said. “I know that boy, and what I have to say is for your own good. You should appreciate I’m looking out for you.”
Grace wanted to tell her uncle that whatever it was had to wait until she clocked out. But she couldn’t stand waiting all day. “Okay, what is it?”
“His mother, Hilda, is a good, God-fearing woman. She raised a fine daughter, and I’m sure she tried with Ben.” Clarence shook his head. “He was just one of those kids who couldn’t seem to keep his nose clean. The minute he entered his teens, he was nothing but trouble.”
“What kind of trouble? What did he do?”
Clarence seemed surprised by the question. “Now, you don’t need to be concerned with details,” he said, his condescending tone suggesting she shouldn’t worry her pretty little head. “Just take my word for it. You steer clear of him before he tarnishes your reputation.”
Grace smiled. Her uncle had no idea what he was talking about. He’d probably heard some rumors or knew Ben hadn’t seen his mom in some time, which made him plain bad to the bone.
“You know I’m telling you this for your own good, don’t you, Gracie?”
“Well, while we’re on the subject,” she said sweetly, “I’ll remind you again that singling me out in front of the other deputies is not helpful. They already resent me.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, this isn’t the city. We all know each other around here. You and I are related. So what?”
She forced a smile. “Have a nice day, Mayor,” she said and climbed into the truck.
Fortunately, he spotted a couple of his constituents and glided along the sidewalk to shake hands, letting her go without an argument. Good. The election was months away, but the more he campaigned to get reelected, the less he would bother her.
After an hour of driving around checking for mudslides, Grace pulled over and opened her thermos. She’d left a few orange cones at the base of a popular hiking trail, but that was it. Everything looked okay.
One thing Montana had over Arizona was rain. And lots of it. She’d been leaving her window open at night. The inn where she was staying was located on Main Street, and a couple times she’d heard noise coming from the bar several blocks down. But it was worth it just to hear the patter of rain on the windowsill.