by Donna Doyle
Troy’s rule when breaking up a bar fight of this size was to engage early and keep it from getting even more out of hand. “Whatever you’re fighting over, give it a rest. They can’t send you back to Iraq, you know.”
“I’d take care of them if they tried,” the Marine sneered.
“Would you?” Troy inquired as if he were intrigued by the possibility. “Did your commanding officer let you show up drunk for duty? I’m just asking because when I was in Afghanistan, they were kind of strict about those things, but maybe it was a little looser in your tour.”
The Marine was staring at Troy as if he couldn’t follow the conversation. Troy kept talking. “Okay, now, we’ve got about fifteen guys—and gals—who look like they really want to spend the night in jail. We’re limited on space, I can’t accommodate all of you, but I can put up a couple of you. So who’re the lucky ones who get to spend the night at the Hoosegow Hilton?”
More faces looked puzzled. Maybe it wasn’t just too much booze, Troy thought; maybe they’d worked really hard on being stupid.
“C’mon, I’m not going to wait all day. I know, we’ll let the bartender decide. Hey, Ern,” Troy called, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “You get to choose. I’ve got all these guests and limited space. Who should get the honor of a night spent at taxpayer expense in the jail?”
Ernie Watkins, himself a veteran, emerged from behind the bar. “All of ’em,” he said explosively. “I’ve had enough of the fights and the trouble. These men and you, too, Lisa, even if you’re a woman, are a disgrace to the uniform you wore.”
“Are you kicking them all out?” Troy asked.
“I sure am,” Ernie replied, invigorated by the thought. “Out of here, all of you!”
“What about jail?”
“They get out of here and stay out, I won’t press charges.”
“Okay, folks, sounds like you’ve got one whale of a deal. Just one problem . . . how are you getting home? The first one I see turn a key in an ignition is getting breathalyzed.”
The drunks, quiescent now, looked at one another in consternation. A bar fight was one thing. Losing a license because of a DUI was another.
“They ain’t staying here, Troy. I’m not a hotel. Out, get out, all of you!”
“But Ern, we wasn’t fighting!” responded one of the customers forlornly. “We’re just watchin’, like, not causing no trouble.”
“I don’t care, I’ve had enough. You’re not welcome in here.”
“Where we gonna go?”
“Anywhere you can walk,” Troy said swiftly. “Better get moving. You can pick up your vehicles tomorrow, after you’ve slept it off.”
He and Ern stood in the parking lot, watching as the subdued drinkers stumbled out, looking behind their shoulders as if to confirm that Troy really was there and that he meant what he said.
“Thanks, Troy. It was getting out of hand fast. You know I don’t call you often when I have some knuckleheads who want to punch each other’s lights out, but this crowd, they’re different. People I’ve never seen before, like that big Marine.”
“A couple more weeks and Memorial Day will be over, and they can go back where they came from.”
“I can’t wait. I might just skip the whole Memorial Day thing and take a vacation. I’ve had about enough of these drunks. It’s not usually like this. I don’t know where these yahoos came from, but I hope they don’t come back next year.”
5
The Return of Chief Stark
Roger Stark’s return to the police force and Leo’s suspension sent scheduling into a tizzy. Troy decided that, even though he’d had a long night, first with the bar fight at Casey’s and then in response to a call from a frightened couple who’d come home from the carnival to find that their home had been broken into, he needed to go to the station for the morning shift to find out what plans Chief Stark had for coverage.
But when he arrived, Kyle was the only one in the office.
“Where’s Stark?”
Kyle shrugged. “No one’s been here yet,” he said. “I guess he’s in the mayor’s office. I’m glad you’re in, though. I got a call from In ’n’ Out; someone broke a window and got in last night. Took a bunch of cigarettes and some granola bars.”
“Granola bars?”
Kyle shrugged again. “I guess they were hungry. No money stolen, but that’s only because it gets locked in the safe when they close.”
“Security cameras?”
“Not real. There’s a sign in front of the convenience store, but it’s just for show. No cameras, no security system. They’re lucky they didn’t lose more. I said someone would be down to talk to them. I’m sorry I can’t help, Troy.”
“Who says you can’t?” Troy demanded. “You drive. What’s to prevent you from going down there to get the details?” Kyle might not be able to walk on his own, but his van was modified so that he could drive, and with the help of his electric scooter, he was mobile. His former role had been to issue tickets for traffic violations, but recently, he’d started helping inside the station, taking calls and relaying messages and acting as the point of contact between the callers and the officers. Now, with Leo out, that meant the force was dependent upon Troy because Chief Stark had always preferred to spend his time in the office, unless he was out in the community; making a public relations visit or doing something with a media connection. That was unlikely to change; Kyle didn’t say it and neither did Troy, but each man knew the limitations of Chief Stark. And if they were inundated with calls, the Chief’s go-to suggestion was to call in the state police.
“I don’t know if they’ll think I’m the one they should go to,” Kyle demurred.
“You’re wearing the uniform,” Troy pointed out. “We might as well figure our way out of the scheduling problems now.” Because Stark isn’t going to do anything about it. The words, unspoken, hung in the room as if they were visible.
“What are you going to do?”
“Stroll on down the hall to the mayor’s office and find out the plan for the day from Chief Stark.” Troy’s words sounded sufficiently respectful, but there was just a nuance of flippancy in his intonation as he answered Kyle.
The older man studied Troy. “Be careful,” he said at last.
Troy nodded. “I’m always careful.”
Kyle looked down. “Yeah, I know, but you don’t always see it coming, you know.”
Kyle seldom referred to his handicapped condition directly and even an oblique reference was rare, but Troy knew what he meant.
“Thanks,” he said simply. How much Kyle had figured out since Leo had been acting chief of police while Stark was gone was something Troy didn’t know. Maybe he’d put a few things together. Or maybe he’d just shifted his loyalty to Leo and was now wary of what would happen with Stark back in charge.
He walked down the hall from the police station to the mayor’s office. Even before he got there, he could hear the sound of laughter and conviviality, as if people were celebrating.
The mayor’s office door was open but then, that was a trademark of his administration and a slogan of his campaign. The Open-Door Mayor.
Several council members were standing around the Mayor’s desk, where Mayor Truvert and Chief Stark, his brother-in-law, were posing for photographs. The photographer was from the weekly paper; news of the returning police chief was likely to be the lead story, Troy realized.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Troy said, stepping into the office with just enough civility to make his interruption seem official, and just enough insouciance to make it an act of defiance. “Kyle’s gone off on a call. Break-in at the In ’n’ Out last night. I’m not due on until the next shift but I thought I’d come by to see if you still want me on evening shift so you can cover the morning, or what the schedule is going to be.”
A swift flash of annoyance exposed Chief Stark’s resentment at the interruption, but it was so brief that, had he not been watching for a di
splay of Stark’s true feelings, Troy knew he’d have missed it.
“Well, I guess it’s time to get to work,” Chief Stark said. “Now that I’m back, we’ll see about getting things back in order.”
“Kyle went on a call?” Sheila Burford, a council member, heard what Troy had said. “I didn’t know he . . . I thought he just did traffic tickets.”
“Oh, no,” Troy said expansively. “Kyle’s been in the office for . . . let me see, since April,” Troy said, tilting his head and looking off at the calendar on the wall as if he were trying to calculate the dates. “Or maybe it was late March. I can’t remember. You’ll have to check with him.”
“I thought Kyle only did tickets.” This came from Rick Scannon, another member of the council.
Troy remembered hearing of an idea, originally suggested from the mayor’s office, that Kyle ought to be let go because he couldn’t fully perform the duties of the office. Leo had been irate at the notion and had stuck up for Kyle, who was popular in town despite his zeal for writing up tickets. Most of the council had been opposed to the idea and it hadn’t gone anywhere. But it was just as well, Troy thought, to point out Kyle’s usefulness in case the notion ever rose again.
“No, Kyle is as busy as the rest of us.”
“Hm. Interesting.”
“I’ll be looking into everything,” Chief Stark said, “so that we can get the force back into running efficiently. We’re going to have maximum coverage and keep the crime down now. I don’t like the way the numbers have been going.”
Troy nodded as if he agreed. “We’ve been busy. Leo didn’t like criminals finding places to hide and he wanted them flushed out.”
That wasn’t what Chief Stark had meant. The photographer shot Troy a speculative glance, not missing the dark glare that momentarily clouded Stark’s features before it was replaced by his practiced grin.
“We’ll get all that sorted out,” Stark said, moving out of the office. “Thanks, folks, for your welcome. It’s good to be back.”
While they were still in earshot, Troy said, “So, Chief, do you want the mornings back? Or evenings?”
“I’ll be working on the schedules today. You aren’t going to be needed this morning, so go on home and show up for evening shift. And Kennedy . . .”
They were alone in the corridor, near the police office and far enough from the mayor’s office to avoid being overheard.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m in charge now, not Leo. I don’t know what you thought you’d accomplish with that stunt back there, but I’m in charge—”
“Stunt? What stunt? I asked for the schedule.”
“You know what I mean, Kennedy.”
“No, Chief,” Troy replied, meeting the police chief’s gaze with a frank blue stare that revealed nothing of his thoughts. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Talking about crime, and Page, and what Kyle is doing . . . don’t think you’re fooling anyone. I know what you’re up to.”
“Then you’d better tell me, Chief, so I know what I’m up to as well. Because all I want to know is my schedule. I’m off tomorrow to pick up a friend at the airport, so I won’t be here for my shift. That’s why I asked about the schedule. Schedules are posted in the same place as always, on the inside wall of the chief’s office.”
It was delicately insolent, and Troy knew it. So did Stark. The benign mask of the smooth, competent chief of police slipped and it was replaced by a venomous expression. “Kennedy,” Stark said, “if you’re smart, you’ll do your job and stay out of trouble.”
“That’s what I always try to do, Chief,” Troy replied. “Trouble has a way of showing up for police officers. But taking care of trouble when it shows up, that’s our job, right, sir?”
6
Basements and Porches
It felt good, Troy acknowledged to himself that afternoon when he returned to the police station to begin his shift. It probably hadn’t been smart to show Chief Stark that just because he had his job back didn’t mean that the other officers were mindless subordinates, but meekness wasn’t in character for Troy. Leo, too, had changed over the past few months as he’d had the responsibility of dealing with the drug problem in Settler Springs that, whether it was openly acknowledged by Stark and his brother-in-law the Mayor or not, was a serious one. And Kyle, who had once been content to do his job within the boundaries of the status quo as it was defined by Chief Stark, wasn’t the same either. How Stark would handle that remained to be seen.
“You’re younger than they are,” Kelly observed when they met for supper mid-way through Troy’s shift. She was done working for the day and was in cheerful spirits, since Mrs. Stark had been gone for most of the morning. When she returned to the library it was mostly to sit in court as if she were receiving callers congratulating her on her husband’s return to his job. Kelly had worked the desk for most of the day, but then Carmela showed up later in the afternoon, explaining, for Mrs. Stark’s benefit, that she’d felt ill in the morning but had improved after lunchtime and so came in to work.
Kelly was glad that Carmela had done so. She was glad to leave the library when her day was done, even though Mrs. Stark had left her alone while she accepted the well wishes of library patrons who knew her.
“Yeah?”
“Well, if you were fired,” Kelly said logically, “you’d find another job easily. It wouldn’t be so easy for Kyle. And who knows what will happen to Leo’s job if this stupid suspension lingers.”
“He’s suspended with pay,” Troy said. “I found that out from Mia Shaw. I stopped by Sloppy Joe’s, just to find out how Leo is doing. She’s going up to camp with Millie and the kids this weekend, she said, to cheer Leo up.”
“Is she worried about her ex?”
“She’s worried about a lot of things. I can’t blame her. How did Travis snag an interview with the local news? Someone has taken up his cause.”
“Do you think Representative Eldredge had anything to do with it? I told you about the phone call. I only heard Mrs. Stark’s end of it, but it was pretty clear that she’s not just an insignificant constituent.”
They were eating at the pizzeria in Warren, just across the river from Settler Springs. Kelly had been immediately sympathetic when Troy texted to say that he didn’t want to run into anyone who would be likely to ask what he thought of Chief Stark coming back. It was entirely possible that someone in Warren would have the same question, since the two communities bordered one another, but
Troy wanted the impression of distance if he couldn’t have it for real.
“I don’t know him,” Troy replied. “I don’t know.”
“Do you think it’s possible that he’s one of Chief Stark’s supporters?”
“Even if he is,” Troy replied, realizing where Kelly was leading with her reasoning, “It doesn’t mean that he’s involved in the drug trade.”
“No . . . but it might.”
“You stay out of trouble,” Troy warned. “Me getting in trouble is one thing. Like you said, I’m new in town, and I’m younger than the natives like Leo and Kyle. If I had to leave, I could.”
“Would it be that easy to leave?” Kelly asked.
It had been a demanding day in a variety of ways, coming off the drama of the night before. Troy preferred his life to flow at a steady, even pace. If he were asked to choose a soundtrack for his life, it wouldn’t have a drum beat. The past twenty-four hours had definitely had a rapid-fire percussive influence that made him glad he would be off tomorrow. He’d pick Sean up at the airport and they’d go somewhere in the city, maybe to the ballpark, catching up on their lives before driving back to Settler Springs so that Sean could return to his old hometown while he relaxed as Troy’s houseguest.
Kelly’s question probed at an undefended area that Troy couldn’t protect from vulnerability.
“No,” he answered, and in his eyes, nothing was hidden. “No, it wouldn’t be easy. I’d like it to be, but it wouldn’t.�
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Kelly dropped her gaze. It was there, the challenge that she always adroitly dodged. What Troy wanted and what she wanted. They had never openly discussed their different, oppositional ideas of what made a friendship something more. She knew what he was used to in a girlfriend, and that wasn’t what she could be.
“I wouldn’t want you to leave,” she said quietly.
Troy drew in his breath. Now wasn’t the time to press her on this point. There was too much going on, and Sean was coming. Would he even introduce the two? He doubted it; Sean would assume that Kelly wasn’t staying over because of Sean’s visit, and any explanation would be too complicated. Kelly had never spent the night at Troy’s house and she never would. Not unless they were married.
“We’ll see what Chief Stark has to say about that,” he answered lightly. “As to your other question, about Eldredge . . . I don’t know. Someone got the news crew in to talk to Shaw. That means that Shaw talked to someone.”
“His lawyer?”
“Maybe. But his lawyer wasn’t there for the interview, and there wasn’t a follow-up comment from him, at least not that I’ve heard. You heard Mrs. Stark say something about Eldredge’s help making a difference soon or something like that.”
“Close enough.”
“You can’t ask Eldredge if he’s an accomplice.”
“I know. I wonder if the Starks support his campaign with financial donations.”
“That’s not illegal either, unless they’re giving him more campaign finance than laws allow. And let’s face it, if the Starks are donating to anything, they’ll be giving as much as they want to get what they want in return. I wouldn’t trust them to pay any attention to campaign rules anyway, and if Eldredge is crooked, he’ll already have a back-door path for taking money that’s really a bribe. That kind of investigating is above my pay grade and yours.”
“I wasn’t talking about investigating anything. I’m just curious. Mrs. Stark has some weird ideas about money, anyway. She’s on this kick about identity theft and she said she pays everything in cash. Everything.”
