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dog.
    “I suppose. Do I get to wear a badge?” Mitch asked.
    Ed chortled. “No, but I’ll see what I can do about a cap. Now, go feed Buster.”
    Mitch shuffled toward the garage for the dog food.
    Once dinner was finished—Ed having made a point of doing all the cleanup—the boys went upstairs to deal with their homework.
    Mary Ellen sat at the table sipping a glass of wine. “You going to tell me what that was about? Mitch helping at the station instead of trick-or-treating? Aren’t we supposed to make these decisions together?”
    “I didn’t see an issue. He’ll be supervised, and it’ll give him something positive to do, since he says he’s too old for collecting candy.”
    “That’s not the point.” Mary Ellen spun away, taking her wine to the den. The volume level on the television advertised her displeasure.
    Ed washed the salad bowl and set it in the draining rack. Without consciously thinking about it, he checked the level of wine in the bottle. Seemed like this wasn’t the bottle they’d opened the other night, which, as Ed recalled, was still half-full when he’d recorked it.
    He rubbed the back of his neck. If he’d missed any signs Mary Ellen was more upset about his work than she’d let on, he’d better start paying attention now. Joining her on the couch, he said, “How about I make reservations at the Black Bear Chalet for Saturday night. I promise, unless all hell breaks loose, I’ll take the whole weekend off.”
    She seemed to mellow a bit. Was it his offer or the wine? Damn, now he’d be second guessing everything she said or did. Not healthy.
    Mary Ellen tilted her head. “Maybe. Define ‘all hell’.”
    “Terrorists. Drug cartels. Russian Mafia. Something along those lines,” he said. He took her wine glass and set it on the coffee table. Leaned in and nuzzled her neck. Whispered in her ear. “I’ll wear a tie.”
    She burst out laughing. “Well, that clinches it. Make the reservation.”
    The laugh unraveled the knot in his belly. He left her with a kiss, one that promised more. “I’ll be back by nine.”

The glimmer in her eye, a look Ed hadn’t seen in a while, made him resolve to keep his word.

Chapter 6
    Ed caught Lloyd Titchener in the workroom. The steaming coffee mug on Titch’s desk indicated he’d been to the breakroom, but Ed couldn’t remember ever seeing the man there. Once Titch stepped into the station, he was a cop machine. Ed swore the man spit-shined his bare scalp. He held up a palm before Titch could spring to attention.
    Half an hour before change of shift, the workroom was still empty, so Ed pulled a chair alongside Titch’s desk. “I’m touching base. From last night’s reports, it appears things have been quiet.”
    “Yes, Chief.”
    “I did have a question about the message you left on Laurie’s desk. The one in the red folder.”
    Titch squared his shoulders. “Chief?”
    “Since your note was on the envelope, not the folder, am I correct in assuming you found the envelope, added the note, then put it in the red folder?”
    “Yes, Chief.”
    Someday, Ed would be able to carry on a conversation with Titch, but the taciturn ex-military officer had become even more formal since Ed had moved into his new position. At least before, Titch had called him Solomon.
    “Did you see who put it on your desk?” Ed asked, although knowing Titch, the note would have said so.
    “No, Chief. Since it had your name on it, I put it in a red folder, in case it was important. Per protocol.”
    “Did you notice anyone here who wasn’t on duty? Someone from another shift, or someone Irv might have buzzed through?”
    “No, Chief. At the time in question, I was out on a call, backing up Officer Gaubatz. If you have questions, the log will verify it. When I returned, the envelope was on my desk.”
    “Relax, Titch. I’m curious, that’s all. I know you’re doing your job, and I don’t expect you to be chained to this desk for your entire