Crime & Passion 3: A Fraudulent Encounter
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Valerie J. Clarizio
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Chapter One
Book 3: A Fraudulent Encounter
Natasha stared at the cash flow spreadsheet on the screen. The funds balanced out to the bank statement, and the total cash on hand only varied a small amount comparatively from the prior year. Not a big surprise as annual balances could differ based on the timing of budget purchases. Great, another month was ready for a close. She’d print the reports and submit them to the Common Council for approval at their next meeting. Her eyes drifted to the column to the far right, the historical average column. All was well. She clicked on the printer icon and the device hummed as the bank reconciliation report printed.
A knock sounded on her door. She spun in her office chair to find Chief Mertz standing in the doorway. Though she had an open-door policy, he always knocked and waited for an acknowledgment before entering. He was the only person in City Hall that did that. Everyone else walked in and made themselves at home.
“Morning, Chief.”
“Morning. I have that fixed asset report for the new gun cleaning station,” he said as he stepped into her office with his arm extended, handing her a piece of paper.
Chief was the only department head she never had to remind to complete the fixed asset documentation. Once he knew the policy, it became part of his routine when putting a piece of equipment or vehicle in service, and he’d only worked for the city for just under four years. Other department heads, with decades of service, still needed to be reminded.
“Thanks.” Natasha took the form from him and gave it a once-over. “Looks good.”
She wasn’t surprised it was filled out perfectly. He was good at following directions. The corners of her mouth twitched up at the sight of the date he’d written on the page. It was military style, day, three-letter month, and then the year. She’d heard he was a Marine, but that part of his life had never come up in their conversations. Rarely did he mention any part of his personal life, past or present. He was a private person and a man of few words. When he did speak, it was usually worth listening to him.
“Need anything else?” he asked.
Those amber eyes of his stayed on her as he waited for a response, making her uncomfortable. That was what he did, he was an eye-contact kind of person. She was not. She couldn’t be further from it, especially since the embarrassment of her divorce. It wasn’t exactly the divorce that catapulted her into shyness. Moreso, the reason for it. Her husband had left her for someone almost two decades younger. Their marriage had been a joke, and everyone in this small town knew it.
A throat cleared.
She shifted her gaze from the paper in her hand back to Chief Mertz. “It’s fine. Thank you.”
He continued to study her as he towered over her desk. She averted her gaze, but not before she scanned over the length of him. He wore his uniform today. Most times he wore dress pants, a button-down shirt with an embroidered police department logo, and a tie, but on occasion, he wore his uniform. Either way, the tall, thin, muscular man looked good, and what he did for a uniform was a crime in itself.
Recalling her let-down of an ex-husband in comparison, she pulled her gaze from the sure-to-be disappointment standing before her—the better looking they were, the worse they were. So, this guy would surely be a bad risk.
“Did you need something else?” she asked.
He took a step back. Probably the coolness in her voice had something to do with that reaction, but she didn’t care.
“I just wanted to let you know that the new squad will be here tomorrow, so I’ll need the title of the vehicle we are trading in.”
She rose from her seat. “Oh, okay. It’s in the vault. I’ll go grab it now.”
He sidestepped to let her through the doorway. When she returned to her office, she found he’d made himself comfortable in one of her guest chairs. His confidence showed by the way he leaned back in the chair, one leg bent with his ankle crossed over his other leg. She’d bet her last dollar nothing shook this guy. He could handle any situation thrown at him. What she’d give for just a portion of his self-assurance. In that respect, he made the perfect Police Chief.
“Here you go,” she said as she handed him the document.
“Thanks.” He took it from her, stood, and exited her office.
The notes of leathery aroma left behind filled her with warmth and comfort. The perfect scent for a man whose mission was to serve and protect.
Perfect. Hmpf, right. She regretted her thought. There was no such thing as a perfect man.
