“Who?”

“I didn’t think it was right to insist.”

Hazel leaned in and lowered her voice. “Is it that goddamned Willan with his fucking surfboard?”

“Who?”

“It’s your job to keep people away from me, Melanie.”

“I did what I could,” she said.

Hazel put her hand on the doorknob, straightening and pushing her shoulders back. She opened the door and the man sitting in the chair on the guest’s side of her desk turned and it was Ray Greene. She jerked to stillness and stood paralyzed in the doorway. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to start people talking by waiting around somewhere they could see me.” He stood up and turned to face her. He was in a dark blue suit, civilian uniform, and she saw he’d lost a good fifteen pounds. She couldn’t speak. “Did you get my bottle?”

“I did,” she said. “That was thoughtful of you.”

“I hear not all your gifts were as welcome.”

“No,” she said, and she finally entered the room, closing the door behind them. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I’m not totally out of the loop.”

“The fact that you’re sitting in my office speaks volumes to that. You didn’t pour yourself a drink, though.”

He smoothed down the front of his jacket. “I didn’t want to take liberties. But if you’re offering -”

She took her seat behind the desk and reached down into a drawer to her left. It had been almost six months since she’d spoken to Ray Greene, and apart from his gift, she’d had no proof he was still in Westmuir. She had just the one glass and she poured and pushed it over to him before shaking her coffee cup over the garbage can and putting a shot in it. He held his glass up to her in an awkward, incomplete gesture and then drank it back. She put her mug down untasted. “You’re not here to ask for your job back.”

“No,” he said.

“You’re not the kind of person to butter someone up with a twenty-sixer and then show up hat in hand, are you?”

“You know me that well.”

“I guess I do. Then what is it?”

“I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Shit,” she said.

“Willan’s going to put me in as the CO of the amalgamated Westmuir force. Port Dundas is going to be headquarters.”

“When?”

“January one.”

“Fucking hell.”

He looked down into his empty glass. “I don’t like amalgamation any more than you do, Hazel, but standing on principle is just another way of doing nothing and being nothing. And I need to work.”

“You couldn’t work under me, Ray, you think it’s going to be easier with the reins?” He hadn’t made eye contact again, not since he’d tried to toast her. “Jesus,” she said. “Are they just going to pasture me or are they hoping I’ll resign in a snit?”

“They’re hoping for a resignation.”

“And if I don’t?”

Now he looked up. “Then you’ll have me backing you. I don’t want you to quit.”

She pushed the meat of her palm into her forehead. “I can’t handle this right now. There’s too much going on -”

“I can come back -”

“Why’d you say yes? There’d have been a brand new desk anywhere you wanted in the OPS. You could have gone to the big smoke if you wanted to. Why come back here?”

“Because this is what I know.” She waited for him to deliver the rest of the speech. How he could be put to best use here, how they’d be able to work out their differences and be effective together. But that was all there was, and she had to admit, she understood. He wasn’t just police, he was Westmuir police and probably six long months hung up drawing early pension was enough to convince him that taking over Westmuir was a good portion even if it meant coping with her resentment, her anger, perhaps her insubordination. Willan had calculated it would be her dinosaur moment, but she was already pretty sure she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction.

She was silent, not allowing him the release of a reply to his astonishing news. His shoulders were halfway to his ears, as if he might disappear into his suit jacket. Finally, she said, “Are you ready?”

“No,” he said plainly. “I want it to be two years from now, when all the growing pains are over.”

“Suddenly you’re an optimist, huh? Two years?”

He appeared to find something in his glass and lifted it to his lips. A thin rill of Scotch ran down the side into his mouth. “Hazel, I know this is not the way you imagined the future, not at all. But there were a lot of ways this could have shaken down and this is one of the not impossible ones. I want you to consider the upside.”

“I already see it, Ray.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to shove this in Chip Willan’s face and I’m going to give you a stomach ulcer. And then, when I do retire, on my own clock, you can throw me a giant party.”

“If you’ll stay, Hazel, you can even choose the flavour of the cake.”

“Mine will be chocolate and yours’ll be crow.” She looked to the clock on the wall. “I presume you can find your way out?”

He seemed surprised that their conversation was already over and he stood awkwardly, as if a person of importance had just entered the room. He’d come ready to battle with her and she’d denied him that – he looked confused, as if he’d bought something he’d not meant to buy. But, after a moment, he got up and took his overcoat off the back of the chair. “I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep you any longer.”

“I guess we’ll be talking,” she said.

“I guess so,” he said. “Thanks for seeing me.”

She let him get to the door, and then she said, “Did I have a choice, Ray?” She saw him stiffen with his hand on the knob and she braced herself. But then he took his hand off the door and turned square to her.

“Do you mean, why weren’t you consulted?”

“Sure, start there.”

“Would you have consulted you?”

He had her there. “But why punish me? I’ve done so much here. I’ve been an asset. I don’t deserve to be squeezed like this.”

He came back to the chair he’d been sitting in and leaned against the back of it. “You’ve never deserved anything but to be on the case. That’s who you are. You’re a brilliant detective, but you should never have been put in charge of anything. You became so-called ‘interim’ out of loyalty to the force, to ex-Inspector Drury, to the people the OPS has left waiting for another shoe to drop. But would you ever have chosen to be CO? Is it what you really wanted?”

“No,” she said, unable to look at him now.

“I left because when I was underneath you I couldn’t do anything about your… lesser instincts. There were cases here that almost got away from you entirely with no one to balance you out. You can’t be a maverick and a leader at the same time, Hazel – no one can. But without the pressure to wonder what a more sensible version of yourself would do in a given situation, you might actually feel free for the first time in years. It’s not a bad situation if you look at it more closely.”

“I’m sure almost anyone would be honoured to work under you, Ray. But think of how it looks for me.”

“It looks like survival, Hazel. Those who work for you can keep coming to work. Direct your pride toward them and you might see it differently.”

“Watch it. You’re not my boss yet.”

He stood his ground, wondering if he’d detected a softening, even a tiny one. He couldn’t be sure. He let go of the chair. “How’s your case coming?” he asked.

“Slowly. We’re up the creek with a paddle.”

“At least you have a paddle.” He smiled warmly, glad to be ending on a slightly better note than it appeared they would. But she was frozen, as if she’d seen a ghost. “Hazel?”

“We’ll be talking, Ray. Thank you for coming in.”

He looked confused, but then decided he wasn’t going to push his luck. He murmured okay then under his breath and saw himself out. She noticed her hand was shaking. Cartwright was standing in the doorway. “You have calls.”