Cat's Claw (A Pecan Springs Mystery)

with the DA, who just happened to be a friend of Timms, and he wouldn’t want the police to have it until he was good and ready. Sheila knew andrespected Lipman, who was the best—and the busiest—lawyer in Pecan Springs. But he could also be damned frustrating. They’d get the information when he was done dealing with the district attorney and not a minute before.
    But from Sheila’s point of view, getting this far with this particular case was not an insignificant victory. City council member Ben Graves had been making a crusade out of the unsolved minor burglaries. He had made up a three-by-four-foot chart and posted it prominently at every council meeting. It wasn’t that Graves cared for seeing justice done—if he did, he would stop opposing nearly every budget request she made for upgrades to police personnel and equipment. All he cared about was making himself look like a guardian of community safety and making her look as incompetent as possible, in the hope that Pecan Springs’ first female police chief would give up and turn in her resignation. She would be more than happy to rub his nose in the outcome of Bartlett’s investigation, especially since George Timms was a former business associate of Graves and a golfing buddy of the mayor’s. Timms owned the Chevy dealership, as well as several rental properties around town and some prime Hill Country real estate—which made him a very odd burglar, indeed.
    And while Clint Hardin had been a thorn in her side ever since she’d been appointed chief, Sheila had to admit—grudgingly—that he had done a good job on this particular investigation. He’d given the detective unit the backup it needed and kept a tight lid on possible leaks after it became apparent that this wasn’t your ordinary, everyday break-in. That was crucial, considering who their suspect was and who his friends were. Hark Hibler had a nose for police news, especially when he thought there might be scandal in high places. The
Enterprise
would break this story big, once Hibler got his hands on it.
    But Bartlett had done his job, Hardin had played the investigation close, Hibler hadn’t gotten even a whiff of anything rotten in Denmark, and the arrest would come as a shocking surprise. Not to Timms, of course. Bartlett had negotiated the man’s surrender with Charlie Lipman last night. And as soon as the arrest and booking were complete, Sheila would give Ben Graves a call.
    “I thought you might appreciate a heads-up on this one, Mr. Graves,” she would say smoothly, sweetly, and maliciously. Then she would add, “Although I’m not sure it’s what you want to hear.”
    Hardin cleared his throat assertively. “Don’t know if you saw the duty roster, Chief. I’m due to take the next ten days for vacation. Brother-in-law and I have rented a boat at Rockport. We’re supposed to leave this afternoon. Of course, when I put in for the time off, I didn’t know we’d be so shorthanded. If you want me to hang around—” He eyed her.
    “Negative,” Sheila said firmly. Yes, she had seen the duty roster, and yes, they were even more short-staffed than usual, between court appearances, vacations, and a couple of guys out sick. But Hardin had the time coming. They’d manage.
    “The Timms case is in the bucket,” she added. “So go, Clint. Get yourself some trophy redfish.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Hardin said it with a slight touch of insubordination, as he always did. Not heavy enough to call for anything like a reprimand or even an informal reproof, but noticeable. And definitely irritating. He headed for the door, adding over his shoulder, “I’ll remind Bartlett that he’s reporting directly to you while I’m gone.”
    The door clicked shut behind Hardin, and Sheila sank back into the oversize chair, pushing out a long, weary breath. He had been one of the candidates for the chief’s job when she was appointed, and he never let her forget it. She ought to be glad that he was out of her hair for a fewdays. It was one less conflict to manage, although their relationship was such a perpetual source of conflict that it more or less faded into the background and only came up when one of them felt like butting heads. She ought to be looking forward to the gotcha conversation with Graves, too. Opportunities like that were few and far between.
    But right now, Sheila couldn’t whip up a lot of enthusiasm about anything. She had been up since before five for her morning run