Mrs. Maggie Lee had once been Big Loft's police commissioner's one honest secretary, and had still lost her job under a new and honest commissioner because a civilian was not even supposed to be in that position.
Policing in Big Loft, VA was a grim matter gilded in good ol' boy gladhanding and no interest in pursuing the real leaders in local crime, some of whom were firmly ensconced in the police force – including Orton Thomas, her commissioner, himself. But she didn't know how bad it was because he actually respected her, and gave her the honest work.
But then, Col. H.F. Lee, late of Judge Advocate General service, late of Special Forces and maybe a touch of Black Ops, was hired to take over the cold case backlog. The people of Lofton County, VA were complaining too much; a Lee over it, especially one so closely resembling the Lee of Confederate fame, would quiet that down.
Lee was quiet, indeed, angelic in manners, and dutiful … slightly sad … depressed but perfectly dutiful … he had been given an office that had been a closet, turned on his Piedmont Blues, and settled in. It was a desk job for a military veteran who needed work so his complex PTSD would not get out of control. What could possibly go wrong?
For Orton Thomas and the corrupt bigwigs around him, everything could and would.
Things had gotten far worse before they had gotten better … but in the meantime, the colonel and the honest secretary had met and fallen in love, and when she lost her job, he scooped her up and made her Mrs. Maggie M.T. Lee. Work remained grim, but she no longer had to deal with it, and he was kind enough not to bring all that grimness home.
But sometimes, the colonel turned police captain went to one of his days not furloughed during the pandemic and came home laughing.
“So, picture this, Maggie,” he said. “You are bidding for a spot on Lofton County's Dumbest Criminals, but it is a crowded field with lots of competition, so...”
And she was gone laughing – the colonel in his light-hearted moods was infectious!
“So, this particular thief has watched enough CSI to know you don't want to leave fingerprints and such, so, instead of putting on gloves before pulling the money out of the cash register, he had an idea: he stole the cash register! No problem leaving fingerprints when you take away everything the fingerprints are on, right? But here is the problem: do you know how much a full cash register weighs? Right. The thief didn't either. Got it halfway out the door, bobbled it, threw his back out, dropped it on his foot and pinned himself to the spot that way. Poor man was in so much pain he was glad to be picked up by the tender loving arms of the Big Loft police force!”
“That must be some hilarious security camera footage!” Mrs. Lee said.
“Oh, it is – it will be on the nightly news!” Col. Lee said.
