Page 82 of State of Affairs (First Family 1)

Just that quickly, she had tears in her eyes as she longed for her father. He’d know how she should respond to this news. While she had no intention whatsoever of taking the job, she had to be careful in how she declined the mayor’s offer. The woman was, after all, the boss of them all, and it wouldn’t do to laugh in her face when she made a genuine offer.

Thank God the chief had given her a heads-up, or she might’ve been tempted to laugh in the moment. The very idea of it was preposterous. She’d been a lieutenant for only two years and wasn’t even eligible yet to sit for the captain’s exam, not that she had any desire to be a captain, either. No, the only job in the department she wanted was the one she already had.

Freddie, Gonzo and Jeannie were in the pit when she walked in.

“Heard we caught a new one,” Jeannie said. “Figured I might be able to help.”

“Happy to have you, but I can’t authorize overtime on this one. Not yet, anyway. I can shave some hours off the regular week for all of you, though.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “Michael left for a conference this morning, so I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Let me check my email to see if Brendan Sullivan came through.” She used up two of the five minutes the chief had given her to unlock her office and boot up her computer. Another minute passed while her antiquated printer spit out the three pages of info Brendan had sent. “I bet the printer at the White House doesn’t take that long,” she muttered, taking the pages to the conference room and handing them to Freddie. “I need to do something with the chief. I’ll be back in a few.”

“What’s up with the chief?” Gonzo asked.

“Nothing important.” Under no circumstances would she accept that kind of promotion. Not like this. “I’ll be back ASAP. Get me some threads to pull.”

“On it,” Freddie said.

Sam left them to do what she wanted to be doing herself and made her way to the chief’s suite. Normally, his assistant, Helen, would be standing guard, but even the faithful Helen got a day off every now and then. Through the door, which was cracked open, she could hear the chief speaking to the mayor. She took a deep breath to calm nerves that were suddenly on full alert and knocked on the door.

The mayor, a Black woman named Monique Brewster, stood to welcome Sam with a warm smile and a handshake. Sam had long admired the woman who’d risen through the ranks on the city council to become the city’s first Black female mayor three years ago at the age of forty-two. Since then, Sam had found her to be tough but mostly fair. The only thing she’d disagreed with her on was her criticism of the chief when things happened that were in no way his fault—such as his former deputy chief sitting on evidence in her father’s shooting for four fucking years, or Lieutenant Stahl wrapping Sam in razor wire and threatening to set her on fire. Again, not the chief’s fault.

“I’m so glad to have the chance to sit down with you,” Brewster said, “but I’m surprised you have the time to be here this weekend.”

“I’m here because I’m the Homicide commander, and we caught a new case last night.”

“I meant that you have better things to be doing.”

Wondering if she was being tested in some way, Sam glanced at the chief.

“What you need to understand about the lieutenant, Madam Mayor, is that there’s nothing more important to her—other than her husband and children, of course—than her duties to the department, her squad and the victims they serve.”

Sam couldn’t have said it better herself.

“Even being first lady?”

The chief cleared his throat, which meant he was trying not to laugh. “Especially that.”

Sam pointed to the chief with her thumb. “What he said, not that I’d want that to become public. It’s important to me to support my husband in his new role, but I have no intention of completely changing my life to accommodate his job.”

Was it her imagination, or did the mayor seem to be looking at her with new respect?

“Well, that works out rather nicely considering the reason I wanted to meet with you.”

Sam thought about stopping her, of telling her she already knew and wasn’t interested, but decided to wait her out and let her make the offer before she declined it.

“As you know, we have an opening for a deputy chief, and as you also may know, I’ve told Chief Farnsworth that the MPD is long overdue to see a woman as one of the department’s top commanders. With that in mind, I’d like to offer the job to you as one of the top-ranking women in the department.”

While Sam’s first inclination was to say thanks, but no, thanks and then ask if she could get back to work, she took a second to come up with a diplomatic response that would be more advantageous to her career in the long term. “Thank you for thinking of me,” she said after a long pause. “As you know, the position is particularly meaningful to me because my father was the deputy chief when he was shot on the job.”

“I do know that, and may I please extend my sympathies again on his passing? I had the chance to work with him many times over the years and always found him to be a delightful, engaged public servant.”

“He was, for sure, and we appreciated the flowers you sent to the funeral home.”

“I’m also extremely sorry for the role my colleague—and yours—played in his death. I continue to be horrified by what was uncovered after he died.” Longtime City Councilman Roy Gallagher was one of three defendants facing murder charges in the wake of Skip Holland’s death. The MPD’s former deputy chief, Paul Conklin, was locked up on related charges after sitting on evidence that could’ve broken the case years earlier.

“That’s something we have in common,” Sam said. “It also means a lot to me that you thought of me for the job, but I’m unable to accept your kind offer.”

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