“He would,” Ali said. And so would my dad, she thought ruefully. Bob Larson had yet to resign himself to the fact that his wife, Edie, now carried her own pink metallic Taser with her wherever she went. As for Ali’s Glock? He disapproved of that as well.

“So we need someone who can help us smooth things over with the media in the meantime,” Maxwell said. “Dave thought you might be just the person to fill that bill.”

The voice in Ali’s laptop chose that moment to speak up. You are now running on reserve power, it announced, which brought Ali back to the words she had been writing at the time Sheriff Maxwell had appeared. Her message had been all about encouraging local students to go off into the world and then come back home, bringing whatever expertise they had gained on the outside to help out the home team. Did Ali mean those words? Or were they just meaningless rhetorical flourishes on her part-a case of “Do as I say, not as I do”?

Then there was the fact that with the complex remodeling job finally over, Ali had been at loose ends, casting about and wondering what she would do with the rest of her life.

It wasn’t as though she needed to discuss her decision with anyone or ask for anyone’s permission or opinion. That’s one of the things that went with the territory of being single at her age. Ali knew without asking that her mother would be thrilled. Her father, on the other hand, would disapprove-mostly because he wouldn’t want his little girl putting herself in some kind of “pressure-cooker job.” Christopher and Athena might swing either way on the subject, most likely down the same division as her parents, with Christopher advising caution and Athena saying, “Go for it.” Leland Brooks would back Ali’s decision to the hilt regardless of what it was. As for Dave Holman? From what Sheriff Maxwell was saying, Dave had already made his position on the matter quite clear.

“I like my life at the moment,” Ali said. “I got out of the habit of punching a time clock a long time ago.”

“There won’t be any call for time clocks,” Maxwell said. “I’d be hiring you as a media consultant.”

“With no benefits, I presume,” Ali put in.

Maxwell nodded. “That’s the best way for me to walk this past the Board of Supervisors. Besides, by doing it this way I can offer quite a bit more money than I could otherwise. Most of the time you could operate out of the Village of Oak Creek substation, but I’d need you to come in to the office in Prescott some of the time-especially early on, so I can brief you on some of our policies and procedures and bring you up to speed with what we’ve got going at the moment. There are the usual press issues-when we’re dealing with the Board of Supervisors, for example, or seeing to it that routine police matters make it into the media-but there are times when we’ll need to be able to call you out if there are emergency situations that need to be handled.”

“Company car?” Ali asked.

Maxwell grinned at her again. He knew she wouldn’t be asking that question if she hadn’t already made up her mind to take him up on his offer. What they were doing now was negotiating terms.

“I saw that nifty blue Porsche Cayenne of yours as I came up the driveway,” he said. “Your helper was in the process of detailing it. Believe me, none of the vehicles in the department’s fleet would measure up to that. I’m afraid you’d need to use your own wheels and settle for a car allowance. You’ll need to keep track of your mileage.”

“Of course,” Ali said. “What about a radio?”

“It’ll take some time, but we’ll set you up with the same kind of communications equipment our plainclothes people use, although you may not want a radio permanently installed in your vehicle. We’ll also equip you with a Kevlar vest, which will need to be worn at all times when you’re working for us-except when you’re in the office, that is. Oh, and you’ll need a complete contact list.”

Will need, Ali noted. Not would need.

In other words, Maxwell knew that he had hooked her. Now he was going for the assumed close.

“When would I start?” Ali asked.

Sheriff Maxwell looked enormously relieved, as though a huge weight had been lifted from his broad shoulders. “Anytime,” he said, getting to his feet and donning his Stetson. “The sooner the better.”

He left then, sauntering away across the patio. Watching him go, Ali had no idea how much her life had just changed-in ways she could never have envisioned.

In the end, Ali’s cheering section sorted itself out in exactly the way she had expected. She went to the Sugarloaf that very afternoon to give her parents the news. Edie Larson was thrilled.

“Will you have your own badge?” she wanted to know.

“I suppose,” Ali said. “An employee ID badge to wear in the office and a wallet with a badge and another ID to carry in my purse.”

“It’s a good thing you already have your Glock and your Taser,” Edie continued. “I’m really proud of you. This is great.”

Ali’s dad, Bob Larson, wasn’t nearly as happy to hear it. Looking aggrieved, he folded both hands across his chest-including the one that still held a spatula.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “You were such a sensible kid growing up. What I can’t understand is why, as an adult, you’re always dead set on getting yourself into all kinds of hot water. Why can’t you be as levelheaded as your mother?”

Ali almost laughed aloud at that one. Her father was the levelheaded one. Her mother was not.

After calling first to make sure it was okay for her to stop by, Ali went next to Chris and Athena’s house-her old house on Andante Drive -to tell the kids her news.

Chris reacted stoically. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Mom?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ali answered with a nod. “I’m sure.”

“Then go for it,” Chris said.

Athena’s enthusiasm mirrored Edie Larson’s. “You’ll be great,” she said. “And from what I’ve heard, that Devon guy is a real piece of work. Sally Harrison isn’t the only ladylove he has on the side. With any kind of luck he’ll be going down the road on a permanent basis.”

As for Dave Holman? Ali called and invited him to stop by for dinner that very night. He arrived holding a somewhat forlorn bouquet he had snagged from what was left in the flower section of Safeway. He had gone there to raid the deli section so he could make a single-dad dinner for his two school-aged daughters.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Dave asked warily as he handed Ali the flowers. “For interfering in your life, I mean?”

Ali handed the flowers over to Leland, who gave them a disparaging look and then set off for the kitchen with the bedraggled bouquet in hand. No doubt he’d get rid of the faded flowers and sort the rest into something a bit more appealing.

“I take it you’ve already heard the news?” Ali returned.

Dave nodded. “Gordy was delighted-and relieved.”

“Gordy?” Ali repeated. “That’s what you call Sheriff Maxwell?”

“Not to his face,” Dave admitted. “But he’s not getting a fair shake on this one. The previous administration left him encumbered with a pile of deadwood-Devon Ryan being the worst case in point. Due to civil service rules he can’t just dump the guy, but Sheriff Maxwell needs some help cleaning up the mess-someone from the outside, and someone with a little class.”

“Namely me?” Ali asked.

Dave grinned. “Absolutely.”

He poured two glasses from the opened bottle of Coppola claret Leland had liberated from the vin ordinaire section of her ex-husband, Paul Grayson’s, extensive wine collection. Taking their wineglasses with them, Dave and Ali retreated to the patio while Leland finished cooking.

“So when do you start?” Dave asked.

“Next week,” she said. “In the meantime I have those two commencement speeches to give. I’m still working on them.”