“We found your fingerprints.”
Her jaw sets. “They were planted. You think I wouldn’t know enough to wear gloves?”
“No, I think you couldn’t bother wearing gloves, because it’s so much more fun to get caught and have the excuse to tell everyone how incompetent the new detective is.”
“That’s what this is about, then. You vetoed my extension. Or you got that sheriff of yours—”
“Jennifer?” Phil cut in. “Please stop before you embarrass yourself further. Neither Casey nor Eric knew of your request for an extension. If they had, Casey would likely recommend it be granted, as she was the one who argued to allow you on the militia. Your continued attempts to paint her as your oppressor really do only embarrass yourself.”
Jen turns on him, but I step between them. “And as much fun as this conversation is, I’m going to need to bring it to a close. Jen? I’m sorry if you didn’t get an extension. The last time I heard, though, you were counting the days until you could leave. If you legitimately want an extension, I can provide a reference—I’m sure Will would, too—but the council didn’t grant Sam’s, either, and we all argued to keep him.”
“Sam didn’t request an extension.” She looks from me to Phil. “He told us he’d changed his mind.”
“The point is—” I begin.
“They refused Sam?”
“He’d been here four years,” Phil says. “The council felt that was enough.”
“I want an extension,” Jen says. “I’ve earned it. You know I have.”
She’s keeping the defensive set to her face, but genuine panic shadows her eyes.
“I will talk to the council,” I say.
Her eyes narrow. Before she can speak, I say, enunciating firmly, “If I say I will, then I will. You still have another month, and right now, I have a bigger problem. You want to help? Go over to the clinic and see what you can do. Tell Diana I sent you and that I said ‘Thanks for breakfast.’”
“I need a code word?”
I don’t bother to answer. If she walked in without saying it, Diana would figure she was poking about, causing trouble, and send her packing.
I open the door. “You will see our situation at the clinic. If Diana doesn’t need anything, then your job is to find out how many people in town know about that situation. Track it. See what’s being said. Get back to me.”
“You want me to be your spy?”
“I want to know how much I can trust you.”
She scowls but leaves without another word.
Once she’s gone, I say to Phil, “That’s the sixth request for an extension the council has turned down since fall.”
“Actually—” He shuts his mouth. “Yes, you are correct.”
“There are more, aren’t there?”
He hesitates.
“Yes, there are,” I say when he doesn’t reply. “They just haven’t mentioned it publicly. Like Sam telling the other militia that he didn’t ask for an extension. Those who asked didn’t admit they’d been rejected. Has anyone gotten one since you’ve been here?”
“Mathias.”
“Yeah,” I say as I sit on the desk edge. “Mathias is special, in so many ways.”
“There were several granted after I arrived last spring.”
“When did they stop?”
He pauses. Then he says, “Late summer, I believe. However, no one who has requested it was truly essential services, which is the definition required for an extension. Sam qualified, and I was surprised his request was denied, but it was his third extension.”