Borrowing Trouble by Stacy Finz Page A

checked with him first.”
    She didn’t want to seem difficult, she really didn’t. In this town, she got the sense that more than half the job was public outreach. But she didn’t want a reporter dredging up what had happened in Los Angeles and slapping it on the front page with a banner headline. She’d been lucky to have escaped the press in LA, especially after they found Sweeney dead.
    The scandal had been mostly confined to the department. There was a slight chance that if the story had been leaked to the media, she would’ve had protection from the ceaseless threats, the awful phone calls in the middle of the night, and the dead rodents in her locker. Maybe she would’ve been transferred to a unit that had her back, instead of being stuck with the same detectives who nearly got her killed. But Sloane was more inclined to think that media attention would’ve made things worse. Much worse. And it had only been a matter of time before the LA Times or the Daily News had started sniffing around.
    â€œOkay.” Harlee took another sip of her coffee and smiled like she was onto Sloane. “Brady didn’t want to do it either. Some people are shy about being in the paper. I get it. It took me a while to get Emily Mathews to do a cooking column, given how the press treated her when her daughter went missing.”
    Sloane hadn’t met Emily Mathews, just knew she was a famous cookbook author and was married to the chief’s best friend, a cattle rancher. “What happened with her daughter?”
    â€œShe was kidnapped several years ago from Emily’s backyard in the Bay Area. The police and FBI never found her or the culprit.”
    â€œAh, Jesus,” Sloane said. “I remember reading about that case. The father was some big Silicon Valley lawyer, right?” Harlee nodded. “I had no idea she lived here now. Gosh, that’s just terrible.”
    â€œYeah. But you must see a lot of terrible things in your line of work.”
    Why did Sloane get the feeling that Harlee was interviewing her? “I’m sure you do too.”
    â€œWhen I worked for the San Francisco Call , yeah, all kinds of horrible crime and tragedies. Not here, though. I thought I’d miss the big stories, but not so much.”
    Maybe Harlee didn’t, but Sloane knew she’d miss it after a while. She’d gotten into law enforcement to make a difference. How much of a difference could she make in a town where the bulk of the job required directing traffic and minding a wayward bear?
    â€œShe’s remarried, huh?” Sloane couldn’t stop thinking about Emily Mathews.
    â€œTo Clay McCreedy. He’s a former naval fighter pilot and the town hottie.”
    Since Harlee had brought it up, Sloane asked, “About that: Does there seem to be a freakishly large number of good-looking men in this town? I mean, I lived in LA, land of beautiful people, but I’d say per capita Nugget has it beat. Am I crazy?”
    Harlee busted out laughing. “You’re not crazy. It’s something about this mountain air. Although we have our fair share of nut jobs. Have you met the Addisons yet?”
    â€œNo. Who are they?”
    â€œThey own the Beary Quaint, that motor lodge outside of town with all the chainsaw bears and the swimming pool.” She made the cuckoo sign. “They wear creepy matching bear hoodies and are constantly accusing people of breaking the law. Don’t worry, you’ll get to know them.”
    From Harlee’s description, Sloane couldn’t wait. She desperately wanted to ask about Brady’s status, but couldn’t find a casual way to slip it into the conversation. Harlee stayed another twenty minutes, regaling Sloane with stories about the town and its characters. By the time she left, Sloane felt like she’d made a new friend. She’d been invited to join Harlee, Darla, and a woman named Sam—one of