Page 14 of Stormswept Colorado

“Sure.” Seth followed me to the break room. A half-empty box of cinnamon donuts lay on the counter. Seth grabbed one, but I resisted the urge.

The coffee smelled burned, so I dumped it in the sink and started brewing a fresh pot.

“It was a ranch property,” I said. “Isolated. The vandal or vandals broke into the barn in the middle of the night, made a mess, set loose some of the animals. Threw a rock through a window of the main house. Nearly scared the owner to death.”

Seth propped his hip against the counter. “So are these teenagers, do you think?”

“What teenagers?” Finn, one of the dispatchers, strolled into the break room. He was going off shift. Officer Susan Nichols was close on his heels. She was just coming on.

“The string of vandalisms around the county,” Seth explained. “It could be kids blowing off steam.”

That had been my first hunch too. Some bored high school seniors, killing time during their final semester. But flipping through the photos of the scenes, it hadn’t felt like just kids messing around. There was something darker to it. An edge. The broken window at the latest scene hadn’t seemed like petty mischief.

Especially because the owner was a woman, and she’d been home alone. Same with every other property owner where these vandalisms had occurred. Some of them women who always lived alone, others whose partners or roommates were away.

No irreparable damage had been done. Not yet, anyway. But the culprit had left a signature at each scene: spray-painted graffiti in the shape of a flower.

This kind of thing got under people’s skin. Made them feel unsafe. Whoever was responsible might escalate to something worse.

An extra complication was how the incidents were spread across the county. Some in my jurisdiction, some in the sheriff’s. Some in other towns. It had become a joint effort between departments. In a large rural county like ours, we all had to band together on something like this.

But I had a good crew working for me. Susan was my senior officer, and she’d already been here when I becamechief. She’d been married for thirty years. Had three grown sons and a biting sense of humor.

Seth was our newest addition to the team. Susan loved to poke fun at him. He was too easy to rile up. But he was a good guy, and smart. A whiz with computers, which was important in this day and age.

We were a rural police department, but we had body-worn cameras, reporting requirements, and databases to maintain like every other department in the state.

Finn had joined dispatch just out of college, and no junk food was safe around him. The dispatchers were shared between us and the fire department, but since the dispatch office ran out of my building, I saw them as part of my crew as well.

I looked out for all of them. This department was a family. The officers and admin staff took care of each other, laughed together.

But as much as I loved them, I had to keep myself apart.

That was what it meant to be the chief. I was in charge. The boss who set an example for the others and couldn’t simply be their friend. Even if that might’ve been nice.

“We don’t have any leads yet,” I said. “Just keep your eyes and ears open. Never know who might’ve seen or heard something, and it’ll lead us in the direction of the culprits.”

Susan unwrapped a protein bar. She carried those things with her everywhere. “Seth will probably be too busy keeping his eyes out for a blond singer who just got to town.”

Seth started to flush red. “My cousin wants Ayla Maxwell’s autograph. That’s all.”

Susan laughed. “I think you’re in loooove.”

Finn stuffed a donut in his mouth and snickered. “Sorry, Seth. But you think Ayla Maxwell would give you the time of day?”

“It isn’t like that!”

Susan hummed the melody to a familiar song. Same one Rosie had been playing at the market. The really sexy one. It hadthis particular line about “Your fingers tracing a path to ecstasy.” The words only got racier from there.

A pair of jewel-green irises appeared in my mind, narrowed like they hated the sight of me.

I swallowed roughly. “That’s enough. Don’t start singing those lyrics or we’ll have a hostile work environment on our hands.”

Susan’s brown eyes glowed with mirth. “But how do you know what the lyrics are, Chief?”

I opened my mouth. Shit, she had me there.

Fine, I knew every word to that song. But only because of one night getting sucked into watching Ayla’s music videos online.One. Wasn’t my fault. It was some weird brain chemistry thing that made pop songs and viral video clips addictive. The music studios had probably studied it in a lab.

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