HELEN SWEEPS INTO MY office, plops her tote bag in a chair, leans across my desk, and kisses me. “Good morning!” she says with a cheery tone in her voice.
I look at her. She’s smiling, all right. Her tone of voice is light and airy.
One look in her eyes, and I know it’s an act.
“What’s wrong?” I say.
“Wrong? Nothing,” she says evenly.
“Is there a problem at work?”
“Oh, Tom. When you’re supervising a group of men and women, there are always problems. I’m sorry I was so abrupt. I was handling a disciplinary issue, it was my first one, and I was a little out of my depth.”
“But everything is OK?”
She nods. “Right as rain!”
I look at Helen and can tell there’s something she’s not telling me. “Anything I can help with as police chaplain? Maybe I can talk to the off—”
“No, no, I handled
