But it wouldn’t matter. Not to most of the council. Bordertown was nothing if not conservative; it was surprising they’d promoted her to chief of police in the first place. And, whether her private life was any of their business or not, she had to answer to them. So she’d hold her head high and fulfill that responsibility along with all the rest.
As she stood in the back of the room, Paul Fedorko glanced up and nudged Liz Torres, who was sitting next to him. Schilling was in the middle of a tirade about budget overages on the city park being built on Hampton Street, but everyone on the council was soon murmuring and fidgeting, and Sophia knew they were distracted by her presence. Their preoccupation became so noticeable that the short, stout mayor, who’d always reminded her of the man behind the mirrors in The Wizard of Oz, finally turned to see what was going on and gave up trying to make his point.
“Chief St. Claire, thank you for responding to our invitation,” he said. “Please, come up and join us.”
Taking a deep breath, she forced her legs to carry her to the conference table, where she sat in one of a handful of empty seats. Despite the mayor’s polite address, there was a frostiness in his manner that had never been there before. That, combined with the reluctance of certain people to look her in the eye, spelled trouble. She was going to be given another warning, probably a harsh one. They’d tell her that her behavior as a public servant was under constant scrutiny and that they expected her to comport herself as a true professional at all times. Then they’d make it clear, once again, that they required a quick resolution to the illegal immigrant murders. And she’d tell them about everything she’d been doing, hoping to convince them that she was, indeed, fulfilling the requirements of the job.
She had no idea what they might have to say about Stuart’s death, however. Some of them had known him as well as she had. They were all grieving, which made the situation even worse and meant they’d want answers she didn’t have. Rod was the only person she knew with any kind of significant grudge against Stuart. She couldn’t guess why anyone else would want him dead, unless his murder was what they’d feared might happen all along, an act motivated by revenge against Americans. They wouldn’t want to hear that. But she wasn’t about to let Edna and her friends and relatives villainize Rod. Maybe he’d had issues with Stuart, but he didn’t kill him.
Hoping she’d be able to convey that with sensitivity and clarity, she waited as Wayne Schilling turned the floor over to Liz Torres. Councilwoman Torres shuffled the papers in front of her, formed them into a neat stack and got to her feet. Instead of avoiding Sophia’s gaze the way she had a moment before, she nearly leveled her with an angry, piercing glare.
“Chief St. Claire,” she said tightly. “It is with the utmost regret that I must make you aware of the terrible disappointment you have become to the city and, in particular, those members of this council who lobbied so hard to have you instated as chief of police. It was a first for the women of this town and I was especially pleased. I felt you’d do a good job, that you’d be honest and forthright—”
“I’ve been both of those things!” Sophia interrupted, taking exception to the councilwoman’s tone.
“Nevertheless, there has been substantial evidence of conduct unbecoming a public official.”
Sophia also got to her feet. “If you’re referring to the picture you were shown at the—”
Councilwoman Torres lifted her hand. “Please, allow me to finish.”
Stifling all the protests that clogged her throat, Sophia kept still.
“We have deliberated long and hard on what should be done about your behavior,” she continued. “Most of the afternoon, in fact. And it is with great sadness and reluctance that I must inform you we need to make a change.”
This didn’t sound anything like her previous warnings. No one else was chiming in, redirecting the conversation, disagreeing, adding details. Everyone, except Torres, who Sophia now understood to be her “executioner,” sat still.
“What are you saying?” Sophia asked. “Are you firing me?”
“We’re giving you thirty days’ notice, Chief St. Claire. We’ll be interviewing other candidates for the position of chief at our earliest convenience.”
Heart pounding, Sophia straightened her shoulders. She had so much to say. And yet there was one question that seemed more important than all the rest. “And do those candidates include Leonard Taylor?”
Liz bent her head. “If Mr. Taylor cares to apply, we’ll consider his application as well as everyone else’s.”
“He raped a woman!”
“A nasty accusation to be sure, but one that’s never been proven. For all we know, his accuser was lying to get back at him for some slight. Or…you were.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I don’t want to believe that. But we can’t ignore that you had sufficient motivation.”
“This is unreal!”
“That’s it for now. We will address our specific complaints in a formal letter.”
Sophia swept her arm around the room. “Why not do it now? When we’re all sitting here face-to-face?”
Richard Lantus coughed into his hand. Deep down he knew, and so did one or two of the others, that they were using gossip as an excuse to get rid of her. Her age and gender were the real reasons behind this, just as they’d been the issues that had caused problems with her appointment. She was fine when policing the city consisted of passing out a few parking tickets and hauling in drunks, but give her a murder case and even Paul Fedorko pulled his support. Now that the situation had turned dicey, they were too afraid to go out on a limb. And although Liz claimed to be big on women’s rights, she cared more about punishing Sophia for the sin of fornication than she did advancing the cause of women. She’d recently become a very devout follower of her faith and seemed compelled to push her religion onto others.
“Fine,” she said. “If you must know, we have taken testimony from Detective Lindstrom—”
“Who’s a good friend of Leonard Taylor’s!” Sophia broke in. “Don’t you get it? This is the same fight we had before. Except now, those of you who were brave enough to take a stand against Leonard’s misuse of power are willing to embrace it again as long as it relieves the difficult situation we’ve found ourselves in. You don’t believe I’m capable of solving the UDA murders. But how do you know the next person will be any better? These are random slayings, the hardest to deal with.”