“Your Honor, as I said before,” she stated. Yes, he had helped get her appointed to her dream job as police chief of this town she loved, but it was only because he believed she hated Brad enough to help him make an arrest and conviction. Angie surrendered. He saw her hand involuntarily move closer to the defensive weapon belted at her waist. Yes, his towel still tented out so far as to give the impression that it might be casually thrown over a fence post! There was a startled look of incredulous disbelief and skepticism on both Angie and Brad’s faces. “Mister, I did not come home for that reason!” she retorted. Her betraying female eyes lingered too long on the swollen terrycloth mound between the standing man’s legs. It was he who had beaten on the locked sleeping room door and then unlocked with his own key when he could get no answer.
