“I suppose we can start immediately, but our coverage will be no better, and probably worse, than what they have now. Brunswick is paying these officer’s salaries, so Brunswick should have priority on the calls.”
“What if we let Tilley’s officers continue while we staff up, and we support them?”
Sean grimaced. “That wouldn’t be my first choice, no. Who’s in charge? Me or Coop? If they know they’re going to be out of a job in a month or two, they’re not going to have much incentive to do their job. I don’t want my guys putting their ass on the line, only to find out Tilley’s officers are going to hang them out.”
“You think that might happen?”
“No…” Sean replied slowly. “Cops are pretty tight because they know it might be their ass on the line needing help, but why take the chance? To be honest, I’d worry more about Coop. I know how I’d feel if, say, Raleigh started sending cops in to patrol Brunswick. I don’t want officers making arrests who don’t report to me. I’m answerable to the people of Brunswick, but who are the officers from Raleigh answerable too?”
Rudy nodded as he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his desk. “Yeah, okay. I see your point. You know, when I talked to Bill about this, he made it sound like it was no big deal to start patrolling Tilley and Abbeyville. Now, talking to you, I can see there’s more to this than I thought.” He scrubbed at his mouth again. “I still think this is the right way to go, though.”
He paused, obviously thinking over the differences in opinion between his current police chief and his former.
“Okay. I’m going to pitch the idea to Hud straight up, just like you explained it to me. It’s got to be your show all the way down the line. If he agrees, we’ll move forward, but if he balks on any point, we’ll drop it. I’m not willing to jeopardize all the progress we’ve made in Brunswick just to support Tilley.”
Sean nodded in agreement but wondered when the next shoe was going to drop. “Thank you, mayor.”
“If he takes the deal, and the council approves it, you can begin the patrols immediately?”
“Yes, so long as 9-1-1 has been switched over and you understand that support for Tilley will be weak until we can get more officers hired.”
Rudy nodded. “Yeah, I’ll make sure Hud knows what to expect. If we can pull this off, this will be another big step forward, for both our towns.”
“Anything else?”
“No. That’s it. Thanks for turning this around so fast. You’ll let me know once you’ve run the riff-raff off?”
Sean nodded. “I’ll call you as soon as we finish.”
Rudy grinned. “That’ll be perfect. Thanks, chief.”
-oOo-
Sean was standing in the heat as the white, five-ton, International truck with a dump bed and a big claw on a hydraulic boom grumbled to a stop behind his car. Fish and Chips were standing at his side, waiting for his signal to start moving the people out of the buildings.
Where Chips was built like a football player, Fish was taller and lankier, with dishwater blond hair, vivid blue eyes, and a large, thin, nose. He and Chips had started with the BPD less than a month apart and were close friends.
Two men climbed out of the boom truck as another truck with a dumpster on the back passed them and pulled to a stop in front of the line of patrol cars. Two more men stepped out of the second truck.
“Jack Rawlings,” the man driving the boom truck said as he extended his hand. “I understand you need some trash picked up.”
Jack was perhaps a year or two older than Sean. He was carrying some extra weight around his middle, but he was tanned and sported muscular arms. All four men were wearing ball caps and reflective sunglasses that also appeared to function as safety glasses.
“Sean McGee,” he replied, taking the man’s hand. “Yeah. We’re going to remove anyone we find inside, then I’d like the place picked clean, down to every scrap of paper. I don’t care what it is, if you find it, out it goes.”
Jack chucked. “Well, it makes it easy if we don’t have to try to figure out what’s trash and what’s not.”
He turned to the much younger man who had been driving the second truck.
“Kurt, drop the dumpster by the first building then you and Skip start beating the grass for big stuff and make a pile. Larry and I will start inside.” He looked around the large lot. “Hopefully there won’t be a lot of shit out in the weeds.”
“I’m only worried about inside, if that helps,” Sean offered.
“Since we’re here, I figure we might as well get the big stuff. I’d bet my aunt Fannie’s fanny there’s at least one appliance, and maybe a mattress or two, out there in the grass somewhere. Since we brought the boom truck, we’ll pick all the stuff up so it doesn’t end up back in the building and we have to do this again.”
Sean grinned, liking the man’s no-nonsense attitude. “That’s thinking ahead.” He turned to his officers. “Okay. Let’s go make some people mad. Fish, you take the utilities building. Chips, the far one. I’ll take this one.”
As his two officers nodded and moved off, Sean wiped at the trickle of sweat running down the left side of his face as he walked toward the first building. That first drop of sweat, always on his left side, signaled that he was about to start sweating in earnest. He entered the building and looked around. It looked as abandoned as it had when he’d been here with Pete to look at the burned mattress.
He walked along the ground floor, past the charred bedding. He made a quick circuit while checking each of the huge rooms. As he did, he opened the doors and looked into the two offices tucked in the corners as Jack and his crew began using scoops to pick up the piled trash and dump it into large rolling bins. Finding no one, he climbed the wide stairs to the second floor, wondering if he was wrong about the homeless staying there.
The second floor was in worse shape than the ground floor. There were several dirty mattresses scattered around in the various rooms, along with more bottles, cans and plenty of evidence of drug use. It was cooler on the second floor than the first, the slight breeze blowing through the broken windows helping to relieve the stuffy heat of the lower floor. There were several nests, but only one was occupied.
“You’re going to have to clear out. You’re trespassing on private property,” Sean said to the withered woman sitting on one of the mattresses.
The woman was thin with a couple of missing teeth and long, stringy, greasy hair. She clearly hadn’t bathed in at least a few days and was dressed in little more than mismatched rags.
“Don’t nobody live here.”
“It’s still private property. Gather up your stuff and get out.”
“Don’t nobody live here! I ain’t hurtin’ nobody!”
“If you don’t leave I’m going to have to arrest you for criminal trespass. Now I know you don’t want that, and I don’t want that, so get your stuff and move along.”
“You fuckin’ cops! Always hasslin’ us!” the woman groused as she staggered to her feet. “This is my stuff!”
“Fine. Take it with you.”
She began to gather up her belongings, mostly rags and bottles as far as Sean could tell. “Leave my stuff alone!”
“What you don’t take with you will be disposed of, so if you want it, take it with you.”
“Disposed of?”
“Hauled to the dump.”
“You can’t do that! This is my stuff!”
“I can and I will. Don’t make this worse than it has to be.”
She glared at him with clear malevolence and he hoped she didn’t do something stupid.
“Fuckin’ pigs,” she muttered as she gathered a few items and began to shuffle away. “You’re just a fucking pig!”
He smiled. He didn’t know people called the police pigs anymore.
“Be careful on the steps,” he said in his best Officer Friendly voice.
“Fuck you!” the woman called as she gave him the finger.
He chuckle
d and finished the circuit of the second floor, but found nobody else. There were obviously several people staying in the building, but they weren’t there now, and when they returned they were going to have to sleep on the concrete floor or find someplace else. He trotted back down the steps.
“The second floor is worse,” Sean said as Jack and his helper carried the charred mattress toward the door. “Watch for needles.”
“Great,” Jack drawled as they passed, never slowing.
“There was only the one old woman up there, but there are probably three or four more staying up there with her. If any of them come back and give you any trouble, give the station a call,” Sean continued as he followed the men out.
“You got it, chief. The place wasn’t as bad as I was afraid it would be, so we should be done here in a couple of hours, maybe less.”
Sean paused and watched the two men chuck the mattress into the dumpster.
“Need anything from me?”
“No, unless you want to help hump out the trash.”
Sean grinned. “No. I think I’ll leave it to the experts.”
Jack smiled as they turned back to the building. “Yeah, somehow I knew you were going to say something like that.”
Sean stepped out into the sunshine and glanced around. The woman was slowly shuffling her way to the street, and Chips was approaching from the other building.
“See anyone?” Sean asked.
“Found a couple of mattresses and a bunch of trash, but no people. Lots of syringes.”
Sean jerked his head at the retreating woman. “I found one, along with a few more mattresses. She was mouthy but didn’t give me any trouble.” He looked back toward the utility building. “Let’s go see if Fish needs any help.”
They were almost to the building when Fish stepped out, wiping at his uniform.
“Nothing in there but dust and spiders,” Fish said when he reached them, pulling another long string of spider web off himself.
“I guess we’re done here, then,” Sean said as he pulled another strand of silk off Fish’s shoulder. “I’ll let the cleanup crew know they don’t have to bother with this building.”
The three officers walked back to their cars, Sean adjusting his course to the boom truck as it picked up a washing machine with its claw. The operator placed the appliance in the back of the truck then turned to Sean.
“You don’t have to bother with the utility building!” Sean shouted to be heard over the roaring engine of the truck while waving his hand in the general direction of the building. “There’s nothing in there except dirt!”
“Okay! I’ll let Jack know!”
Sean gave the man a two-finger salute before he turned and walked back to his car, following the path the truck made in the tall weeds.
He flopped into his car and started it to get the air conditioning going before he pulled out his phone. He thought about calling, but decided an email would do.
“Mayor Klinger, comma” Sean said, talking to his phone. “The trash cleanup is underway, period. There was only one homeless person found, period. You may inform Wallace Barns we’ve cleared the premises, period.” He thought a moment then decided that was all he needed to say. He read over the email, smiling to himself as he corrected the spacing and changed Mayor Klingon to Mayor Klinger before pressing send.
He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and slipped his car into gear. He normally worked until five, but Maggie got off at three-thirty. Today was her birthday, and he had plans to surprise her. He wanted to get his day wrapped up so he could leave at the same time she did.
Eight
“Claire, I’m leaving early,” Sean called with a wave as he walked past the large window looking into the dispatcher’s office.
Claire Montgomery, a petite woman in her middle thirties, waved back at him through the glass.
He’d told Maggie happy birthday in passing this morning, but that was all. She didn’t know it yet, but they were going to Second Empire, in Raleigh, for dinner. He’d asked around several days ago and everyone agreed that if he wanted to impress her, that was the place to go.
He went home, fed his cat, showered and changed. He wanted to cringe at the thought of wearing a coat and tie on a day like today, but this was a special occasion and he would just have to suck it up and tough it out.
He tossed his coat and tie into his car then drove to the self-storage lot where he kept his 1966 Jaguar E-Type.
He didn’t drive the car often, but this was a special occasion, and he was going to have to get it out in a couple of days anyway for Cars on Main.
Brunswick closed down Main Street five times a year for various events. The Brunswick Stew Festival in February, Craftsmen on Main in April, Cars on Main in late June, Pottery on Main in September and Christmas on Main in November. It was one of Rudy’s ideas to draw people into the downtown area on weekends and was generally well received.
Maggie loved his Jag and she’d encouraged him to enter the car in the event since he was going to be there anyway as part of the security. He could deny her nothing, so he’d agreed.
After several tries he finally got the car started and backed it out of the building before pulling his Dodge into its place. He was going to see if Maggie would let him leave the Jag at her place until after Cars on Main and give him a ride to pick up his car after dinner.
His Charger locked up, he spent a few minutes wiping the Jag down with the duster he kept in the boot so the car would look its best. His father bought the car used in the late seventies, and then gave it to him about ten years ago when his parents sold their house and moved to Florida. The original owner and his dad always kept the car garaged and only drove it on nice days, so the car was rust free and had required only a minor refresh to return it to pristine condition.
Painted in classic British Racing Green with a camel leather interior and wire wheels, the car was sex on wheels. As he wiped the dust off, he admired its sleek lines. In profile, the sensuous curves of the car reminded him of a beautiful woman lying on her side, of Maggie lying on her side.
Finally ready to go, he tossed the duster back into the boot and spent a few minutes putting the top—or hood as the British called it—up to keep the sun off him. Hood secured, he squeezed into the cockpit and started the car. After starting once, it rumbled to life with ease. Blipping the throttle just to hear the engine bark and snarl, he pulled way with a smile and motored out of the facility. His smile grew when he turned out onto the road and rowed the car through the gears, listening to the 4.2 liter straight six growl. He always forgot how much he enjoyed the car until he got it out and drove it again.
He made a quick stop at KaBloom for a bouquet of roses then wheeled the Jag into Maggie’s driveway. She shouldn’t be expecting him for at least another hour. He put on his coat and tie, picked up the flowers, and walked to her front door. A quick push of his finger and he heard the chimes of the doorbell.
“Happy birthday,” he said, extending the bouquet when she opened the door.
She quickly recovered from her initial surprise and took the flowers. “Thank you so much! You dressed up!” She glanced at the drive. “And you came in the Jag! Wow! I’m impressed.”
He stepped in and gave her a light kiss. “We have dinner reservations at eight.”
“Where?”
“That’s a surprise, but you’ll want to dress nice.”
“Oh! I need to get a shower! Do I have time to put these in water?”
“We’ve got plenty of time.”
He took his jacket off and settled into his spot on the couch while Maggie bathed. They did have plenty of time, and if she got done early, they could take a meandering route to Raleigh to burn off any extra time.
Forty-five minutes later he heard the tapping of her shoes on the hard wood floor as she came down the hall. He twisted around and froze. She’d worn a dress on their first date, but this was the first time he’d seen her dressed to the nines, and she was s
tunning. She’d tied her hair up in a complicated looking braid instead of her normal ponytail, and she was wearing a deep red dress that showed off her lush figure perfectly. It stopped just below her knees with a slit that played peek-a-boo with her thigh as she walked. There was a thick band of material that caressed her neck but left her shoulders and arms exposed.
“What do you think?” she asked as she cocked her leg with a hand behind her head in a cheesecake pose.
“Wow!”
She grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should! You look gorgeous!”
He stood and her smile grew as she stepped further into the room.
“Flattery will get you nowhere… but keep talking,” she murmured before giving him a soft kiss on the lips.
He glanced at his phone. “We’ve still got a little extra time, but we can take the backroads.”
“Perfect. Where are we going?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise.”
“You can’t even tell me the town?”
She’d figure that out as soon as they left Brunswick. “Raleigh.”
She smiled and tucked the tiny cream clutch that matched her shoes under her arm. “What are we waiting on then?”
After locking up, he escorted her to the Jag and opened her door. He admired her legs as she folded them up and tucked them into the car before shutting the door and walking around to his side.
They growled through the countryside, laughing and talking, following Cleveland Road until they turned north on highway 50 for Raleigh.
Sitting at a stop light on the outskirts of Raleigh, Sean started the navigation app on his phone, their destination already selected, and handed the device to Maggie.
“Here, you navigate.”
As they worked their way through town, she held the phone so he could hear the directions. “The Second Empire? Oooh,” she cooed. “I’ve never been there but I’ve always wanted to go.”
Flashover (A Sean McGhee Mystery Book 2) Page 7
