A heavy sinking feeling in his gut. "Yeah, right." The Oakport Police precinct was a brutalist concrete building that smelled perpetually of stale coffee, industrial floor wax, and sweat. At 7:30 a.m. the next morning, the locker room was buzzing with a frenetic, nervous energy. The previous chief of police had been forced into early retirement a month ago after a local journalist exposed a massive embezzlement scandal involving police pension funds.
Today was the dawn of a new era. Mayor William Stanton was personally coming to the precinct to introduce the new chief of police. Rumors had been swirling for weeks. The union reps swore the mayor was promoting Captain Hodges, an Oakport lifer who would keep the status quo. Derek Tagert stood in front of his locker, meticulously adjusting his uniform tie.
He was in high spirits. With Hodges expected to take the chief's office, Tagert had been practically promised a promotion to sergeant. "Looking sharp, Tagert," Officer Bradley Jenkins said, slapping Derek on the shoulder. "Ready for the new boss?" "Hodges is a good man," Tagert grinned.
"He knows how the streets work. He knows you can't police this town with kid gloves. We'll be fine." Across the room, Wyatt Miller was quietly lacing up his boots. He hadn't slept a wink.
The image of the elegant, composed Black woman standing on the side of the highway while Tagert trashed her car haunted him. He knew he should have intervened. He knew he should have turned on his body camera, which Tagert had conveniently told him to leave off. "Hey, Miller," Tagert barked across the benches. "You look like a ghost.
Shake it off. Today is a good day. We're getting the department back on track." At 7:55 a.m., the intercom crackled to life. All available personnel, report to the main assembly room.
Mandatory briefing in 5 minutes. The assembly room was a massive auditorium lined with rows of folding chairs. Nearly 200 officers, detectives, and administrative staff piled in. A sea of navy blue uniforms. Tagert took a seat in the second row, making sure he was visible.
He wanted the new chief to see his face. Wyatt sat nervously in the back row near the exit. At exactly 8:00 a.m. the side door opened. Mayor William Stanton walked onto the wooden stage. He was a tall, severe looking man who had campaigned heavily on police reform.
The room fell into a tense silence. "Good morning," Mayor Stanton began, stepping up to the podium. He adjusted his microphone, his eyes scanning the crowd of officers. "For the past five years, the Oakport Police Department has been plagued by scandal, corruption, and a severe breach of public trust. We have settled over $14 million in excessive-force lawsuits.
This department is broken." A low murmur of dissent rippled through the veteran officers. Tagert crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. "Here we go with the political garbage," he thought. The citizens of Oakport deserve a police force that serves and protects, not one that terrorizes and steals," the mayor continued, his voice rising in volume.