YEAR EIGHT (And here's where things get good…)

"This is complete and utter crap, Tom."

"I'll be the judge of that, Harris."

"I don't know what the hell sort of lies she fed you to convince you this was necessary, but hey—surprise—so not necessary."

"You seem to be of the opinion—mistaken, might I add—that you actually have a say in the matter."

"Damned straight I have a say in the matter—it's my damned department!"

Swagerty's brows rose, but to his credit, he kept his voice mild. "The City of Santa Barbara's department that I brought you in to assess."

"Exactly!"

"And of which I allowed you to take temporary control in order to steer back on course—as per your assessment."

"Exactly!"

"Not destroy."

"Exac—whoa—" Trout's habitually florid face reddened further. "Whaddaya mean destroy? What the hell has she told you?"

Karen calmly observed the verbal volley from where she sat at the conference room table. She kind of wished she had popcorn and a beer, instead of coffee, but felt as if perhaps that might not jibe too well with the professional demeanor she was currently struggling to maintain.

"She didn't have to tell me anything." Swagerty held up a bulging manila folder held together with a heavy-duty rubber band. "Because I had these telling me everything. At least everything I needed to know in order to call in an outside source for independent verification."

"What the hell is that?"

"Evidence of what you consider steering the department back on course." Swagerty tossed the folder to the table where it landed with a substantial thud. "Go on, look."

Karen continued watching silently, sipping her coffee and not even feeling bad that she half-wished the straining rubber band would snap and perhaps take a watery blue eye out.

Sadly, no rubber band snappage. New rubber band. Good quality rubber. Pity.

Trout sneered as he quickly riffled through the folder's contents filled with, as Karen now knew, complaints from messages to the department going unanswered to the far more troubling lack of response from officers to calls ranging from routine to serious. Calls whose responses were determined by initiatives developed and sanctioned by Trout himself. Alleged cost-cutting measures.

Karen, frankly, hadn't been able to uncover any evidence that the cost-cutting had yielded benefits other than the new espresso machine residing in Trout's office. The office from which everyone was prohibited—under any circumstances—Trout preferring to meet with his underlings in the conference room.

Not even the cleaning crew was allowed in. Good thing, considering Trout had cut them back to a skeleton staff with vastly reduced hours.

Karen had made a note in her report that a full audit would be necessary. Tom wasn't happy, especially considering the cost it was going to incur, but he'd agreed it was necessary to begin with a completely clean slate.

"This is B.S., Tom. Petty nonsense."

"I don't consider deliberately and repeatedly ignoring our constituents to be petty."

Trout made another one of those noises.

"And I can't even begin to fathom the logic behind your directive to filter calls that come in through Emergency Services. You created and instituted what amounts to a litmus test by which cases had to be assessed before anyone would be sent out to investigate?"

"Cost efficiency," Trout responded, secure in his arrogance. "A lot of those calls are nothing more than a waste of time. You know that."

"The Sherriff and Fire Chief who had to pick up our slack and lodged their own complaints don't seem to think so. Neither do the DOJ and the Attorney General, who is currently breathing holy fire down my neck because of your tactics."

"It's all smoke and mirrors, Tom. Attempts to bully the new guy. They'll back down once you show them the results of my tenure."

"They've seen the results of your tenure," Swagerty exploded. "Why do you think she's here now?"

"The woman who allowed the department to fall into disarray in the first place. Who catered to every namby pamby complaint that crossed her desk while ignoring the real issues."

Karen wondered it was possible for Trout to sneer any harder.

"Because she's such a reliable source."

Huh. Guess it was possible. And yet… amazing how very easy to ignore. She turned to Swagerty. "I trust you read the rest of my report?"

"What report? Seriously, what the hell, Tom?"

"Oh, shut it, Harris."

Trout puffed up, his eyes nearly bulging out of his increasingly red face, a greasy lock of hair falling onto his forehead. "Why should I?"

The mayor rolled his eyes so dramatically, Karen found herself nearly choking on the sip of coffee she'd just taken.

"Why?" Swagerty propped his hands on the conference table. "Maybe because I'm the mayor. Maybe because I'm your boss. Maybe because despite your over-inflated ego and incredibly misguided sense of importance, I am essentially the law around here. But mostly, because you give me a headache."

With each word, he leaned further and further forward, his reflection sharpening in the table's highly polished surface until it appeared that two Swagertys were looming, one from under, one from above, essentially hemming Trout in.

Still, though, the other man wouldn't back down, fists balled on his hips, chin thrust forward belligerently.

Karen had to wonder about the man's arrogance.

Or stupidity.

Given his demeanor, she was currently leaning toward the latter.

"You're saying you had this incredibly unqualified woman," he practically spat the word in a way that had Karen wishing she was carrying a weapon, "make a report on the department from which she was dismissed?"

"Suspended," Swagerty corrected in a deceptively mild voice, although anyone with sense could hear the tension underlying the single word.

Trout made a noise that sounded disconcertingly like one of the dismissive noises at which Mr. Spencer was so practiced and which had, in the past eight years, become the primary cause of her dentist's growing concern over her tooth enamel.

"She wasn't ever coming back and we both know it," he countered with a withering look Karen's direction.

"I didn't know that." Swagerty's glance at Karen was equal parts reassuring and exasperated, cementing her gut instinct that that pronouncement was, indeed, news to him as well.

"I would have thought the department's performance since her dismissal," Trout stressed the word defiantly, "would have convinced you that the change in direction was for the best."

"In what universe?"

Trout stared at Swagerty, as if realizing for the first time that things were not going his way and he wasn't at all certain how it had happened on his watch.

"You." Unable to vent on Swagerty, he turned his ire on Karen. "I thought your skulking around here this past week was simply to familiarize yourself with current departmental conditions before your scheduled return."

"You ignored my repeated requests to speak with you ." She shrugged and took a sip of coffee. "I imagine it's because you deemed them unimportant since you were planning on blocking my return."

Trout's eyebrows shot up. "Well, d'uh."

Once again she refused to rise to the bait. "If you had asked, however, I would have been more than happy to fill you in on why I was… how did you put it?" She pretended to think. "Skulking around." She shot him her most brilliant, patently false smile, taking entirely too much enjoyment in the way his right eye appeared to start twitching.

"In retrospect, however, it was probably best I was able to do my work without you attempting to interfere. Allowed me to obtain an unvarnished view of the current departmental conditions."

"Made for some fascinating reading," Swagerty broke in. "You did an incredibly thorough job, Karen. I can see now why you came so highly recommended by the other mayors and city managers."

"What other mayors and city managers?" Trout squawked and boy, he finally did seem to be getting that things weren't at all going his way.

"If you'd taken my requests," Karen said mildly, "I would have informed you that during my months of suspension, I developed a bit of a side business."

"As a consultant?" Trout said, clearly incredulous overlaid with a hint of his typical acid. "That's unethical."

Trout's visage blurred as she coughed and fought to choke down the sip of coffee she'd just taken.

Swagerty's voice floated over her head as he helpfully pounded her back. "Harris, if you have even an ounce of brainpower left beneath whatever the hell you use to make your hair do that, you'll stop right there."

Did he?

Of course he didn't.

"Tom, this just cements why she shouldn't be permitted to return as Chief of Police. Aside from her utter incompetence."

"Good thing then, I'm not returning." Karen groped in her pocket for a tissue with which to wipe her streaming eyes, then felt fresh tears well as she watched the spark of smug joy that lit Trout's pale eyes to a frosty blue. Anemic, when compared to Carlton's eyes—hell, downright lifeless when compared to the varying, shifting shades of blue that showed anger and aggravation and passion and love with equal fervor.

"And neither are you." Swagerty's voice wasn't loud, but it nevertheless rang with authority and conviction. It was a statement delivered in a way that brooked absolutely no argument and for the first time, Trout appeared to remember that the other man was, indeed, his boss and that, oh yeah, he answered to him.

Once again, he turned on Karen. Eyes narrowed, he hissed, "You bitch."

Unperturbed, she responded, "You say that as if you think it's the first time I've ever heard it."

Taken aback that she wasn't cowering or even angry, he turned back to Swagerty. "You can't fire me based on the recommendation of the woman I suspended."

"I'm not." Swagerty crossed his arms. "Karen wouldn't even consider accepting this contract until I agreed that she would only give me a report on departmental conditions as they currently stand. The decision of what to do with you remained squarely with me. The only concession I was able to wrangle from her was that she give me her suggestions for a new Chief if it was indeed the direction I chose to go based on the results of her assessment."

As if on cue, a tap sounded at the conference room door. Trout's automatic bark of dismissal was cut short by Swagerty's glare, followed by his bid to enter. Karen turned in her chair just as Carlton, clad in charcoal slacks, a dark blazer, and a pale blue button-down left open at the neck, strode into the room.

As always, Karen's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him him—so tall and handsome and resolute. Seeing him here, where he belonged, and knowing why he had to be here, even though she hadn't known—not for sure… not until this moment—her heart skipped a whole host of beats. Enough to leave her breathless.

And so damned happy.

"Detective—" Swagerty closed the distance between them, hand extended. "Glad you could make it on such short notice."

"Of course." Carlton took Swagerty's hand although his gaze remained fixed on Karen's, confusion rendering the normally clear blue cloudy and opaque. "And please, it's just Carlton."

A hint of his natural acerbity crept into his voice at that, causing a pang of guilt to shoot through Karen. How it had to feel for him walking into this place he'd once ruled, second only to her. She'd felt horribly guilty not saying anything—but she couldn't. Especially since she herself hadn't known what the outcome would be. She'd hoped of course, but there hadn't been any guarantees until the moment she saw him walk into the conference room.

"Of course, Carlton." Swagerty held Carlton's hand until he had his attention. "Although I confess to hoping that after today, you'll allow me to call you Chief."