The Stolen Bride

“This officer violated a direct order.” Norris recovered a trace of his bluster. “I have an obligation to discipline him.”

“What I don’t understand,” Erin said, “is why you accused him of drawing his gun when I can see that it’s still in its holster.”

She probably couldn’t see that, since Joseph’s holster was beneath his jacket. It didn’t matter. She’d made her point.

The chief gritted his teeth. He wasn’t accustomed to backing down and Joseph knew he’d take his pound of flesh one way or another. Finally, he said, “You’re on administrative leave for a month, Lowery. Paid leave,” he said in Erin’s direction.

“You need to rethink your priorities,” he continued, turning toward Joseph, “and decide whether you’re ready to follow the chain of command or whether you’d rather work somewhere else.”

“And when I come back?”

“There’ll be no action taken unless you do something else to deserve it.” Shutting off further discussion, Norris returned to his car. He gunned the motor, shot backward and spun away. Gravel spattered off Joseph’s car.

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