The Priority Unit (Maine Justice Book 1)

by Davis, Susan Page

  “Don’t you want to believe there’s a higher power? That someone who knows what He’s doing is in control of things?”

  “Well, sure.”

  She smiled. “You must read what it says in Hebrews.” She turned a few pages. “There. Hebrews 11:6. ‘But without faith, it is impossible to please him, for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.’ It sounds like you, Harvey Larson. Without faith. It’s right there, boy. If you reached out, you could touch it.”

  Harvey smiled up at her. “You keep praying for me, Grandma.”

  “I won’t stop. Maybe one of these days you’ll come to the end of your own strength, considerable though it may be. And when you do, you’d better latch on to that faith.”

  “Believe that He is, huh?”

  “Seek him diligently, Harvey.”

  She pushed the Bible gently aside and sat down. They ate cookies and drank tea, and Harvey began to relax and tell her about his cases. Grandma listened avidly.

  “I always knew you were a good policeman. It’s what God made you for. But I hoped you would find someone, Harvey. I’d like to see you happy.”

  He unbuttoned his jacket and leaned back in the chair. “I’ve just never considered that, Gram. Carrie was it for me.”

  “But now?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “Isn’t there anyone special?”

  Harvey hesitated. “Not really, but…”

  “Tell me about her.”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “She’s just a girl I met through work. I don’t know her at all. I only saw her once, but she made a real impression on me.”

  “Be patient, Harvey. Maybe you’ll have a chance to further the acquaintance.”

  He nodded, then picked up his cup and looked into it. “I didn’t really think about it before. I just felt like it wasn’t appropriate for me to look at another woman.”

  Grandma pulled a sheet of paper from between the leaves of the Bible and said, “What’s her name?”

  “Jennifer.”

  She wrote on the paper.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “My prayer list. Now you and Jennifer are on it together.”

  “That’s nice.” He wondered how Jennifer Wainthrop would feel if she knew about this development.

  “You must write and tell me if your suit is successful.”

  He smiled. “I may never see her again, Gram.”

  “Something tells me you will.”

  He laughed then, for the first time in ages. “I think Jennifer would love you, Grandma. She seems like a traditional kind of girl.”

  “That’s the kind of girl you should have married in the first place.”

  Harvey shrugged. “Well, like I said, I don’t really know her.”

  Grandma leaned toward him and grasped his wrist. “Harvey, don’t throw away the opportunity.”

  “What if there isn’t an opportunity?”

  “Then make one.”

  *****

  Traffic was worse than ever on the northbound interstate. Plugging along at fifteen miles an hour approaching the river that separated Maine and New Hampshire, Harvey felt his restlessness mount. He knew road crews were working on the highway north of the bridge. Irritated, he consulted his watch. He had hoped to get back in time to check in at the office for an hour or so. Overhead, gray clouds formed a low ceiling. No doubt it would rain before dark.

  At the apex of the crowned bridge, the van in front of him stopped abruptly, and Harvey hit the brake. He rolled down the window and peered out, trying to see if there was any movement at the far end of the bridge. All three lanes of northbound vehicles sat still, while the southbound travelers whizzed past them. He sighed and flipped on the radio.

  Five minutes later, he was able to inch forward a few yards, then the line of cars halted again. Frustrated, he threw the transmission into park, climbed out of the car, and leaned against one of the girders on the side of the bridge, gazing out toward the Atlantic.

  I’m not married anymore. It hit him hard. He’d refused to acknowledge the end of his marriage, but now there was no denying it. He thought of gentle Grandma Lewis and smiled ruefully. Well, Grandma, if there’s a God, He’s probably laughing at me right now. You think He’s trying to get my attention?

  Slowly he raised his left hand and studied the plain gold band he’d worn for almost twenty years. He wondered where Carrie’s was. Suddenly he grasped the ring with the thumb and index finger of his right hand and twisted it, wrenching it off over his knuckle. Before he could talk himself out of it, He raised it over his head and threw it overhand, hard, as far out away from the bridge as he could make it go.

  He couldn’t follow its path down to the dark water.

  Car horns blasted behind him, and large raindrops pelted him as he hurried back to the car. The traffic moved slowly. Another hour to Portland, at least.

  Chapter 4

  Jennifer’s brain whirled with the never-ending loops she devised to keep hackers out of the special program. Yesterday Jack Rainey had told her to mesh her segment with John’s and then try to break into the program. It had been all too easy. She was trying to correct the flaws, grimly ignoring the irony of trying to make her program so good she couldn’t crack it.

  After she had been at it three hours without a break, the lights in the office flickered and went out. The generators immediately came on with auxiliary power, but her concentration was broken. A cup of tea, she decided, pushing away from her desk.

  Jane Morrow was pouring a mugful of coffee as Jennifer entered the break room.

  “What’s with the power outage?” Jennifer asked, poking through the basket of wrapped tea bags for peppermint.

  Jane eyed her in surprise. “It’s a howling thunderstorm. Where have you been?”

  “I guess I was concentrating so hard I didn’t notice.”

  “Well, you don’t have a window,” Jane conceded.

  Her quick intake of breath made Jennifer look up sharply. “What?” she whispered.

  Jane lowered her gaze and murmured, “That Arabic guy is here again. He just went past the door.”

  Jennifer strode to the doorway and looked out. Sure enough, a tall, thin man with black hair was disappearing in the direction of the partners’ offices.

  “He’s not bad looking,” Jane said.

  “Do you think he’s a client?”

  “I don’t know. He was in there all morning a couple of weeks ago. I thought maybe he was interviewing for a job.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “No, I’ve seen him a couple of times. I think he’s either consulting or buying.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “So, what are you working on?” Jennifer asked, selecting a tea bag at last.

  “Translating your retailing program into German.”

  “Really? They’re going to market it in Europe?”

  “Apparently.” Jane smiled with a hint of sensuality. “I get to meet with Herr Enberg next week. He’ll test the program, and we’ll make revisions in the script.”

  Jennifer made a face. “Better you than me. He makes me nervous. Besides, what about Brett?”

  “Brent. He’s still hanging around, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy working with a nice-looking guy once in a blue moon. Don’t you like to meet new people?”

  “Well, sure, but…”

  “But what? It livens things up a little.”

  Jennifer squeezed out her tea bag and tossed it into the trash can. “I’d find it distracting, I think.”

  Jane laughed. “That’s the general idea. I spend all day staring at a computer screen. But on Monday I get to stare at Herr Enberg.”

  “Is he married?”

  Jane’s blank expression told Jennifer her friend hadn’t given it deep thought. “I met him once before, and he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

  “Do men wear wedding rings in Germany?”


  Jane stamped her foot in exasperation. “I don’t know, but what does it matter? He’s probably only over here for a week or so. It’s not like we’re going to form a lifelong attachment.”

  Jennifer sighed.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” Jane asked. “You won’t settle for anything less than a lifetime commitment. I tried to set you up with Brent’s friend Jerry, and you practically ignored him. He wasn’t marriage material, so you couldn’t just relax and have a fun afternoon.”

  “Jane, I wasn’t the one who ended the date. He injured Brent severely.”

  “But you brushed him off when he called you later.”

  Jennifer felt a pang of regret. “I didn’t mean to upset you. And I don’t think I hurt his feelings too badly.”

  “He didn’t have enough time to find out whether he liked you or not.” Jane pursed her cherry red lips in a pronounced pout.

  Jennifer shrugged. “Jerry wasn’t right for me, and it’s just too much trouble to start something and then be disillusioned.”

  Jane picked up her coffee mug and headed for the doorway. “Some guy really did a number on you, huh?”

  Jennifer stood staring after her for a moment. How did Jane know? Was it that obvious? Sometimes she wished she could be more like Jane, seize an opportunity to have a good time with a nice fellow and not let it carry any weight. But she knew she would never give even a tiny piece of her heart again, until she met a man who was absolutely, irreproachably rock solid.

  *****

  Harvey methodically laid out his plans to his squad late Wednesday afternoon. Mike had given him complete rein on the latest investigation, and the four detectives of the unit would work together on a new drug case. He wondered why Mike was handing him more and more responsibility, instead of giving it to Arnie, who was the senior detective and Mike’s best friend.

  They were finalizing their strategy when Mike approached his desk. Harvey glanced up then looked again, his eyes drawn by an urgency in Mike’s face.

  “Harv, I know it’s quitting time, but … you remember the computer guy who did the vanishing act a couple of months ago?”

  A rush of adrenaline surged through him. Of course he remembered.

  “Nick Dunham.”

  Mike nodded. “They’re pulling his car out of the Presumpscot River, behind the dam up in Pleasant Hill.”

  Harvey swallowed. “Is he in it?”

  “Don’t know for sure, but the diver who hooked on the chain read the license plate, and they called me. Haven’t brought it up yet.”

  Harvey bit his lip. “How’d they find it?”

  “The river’s getting low. A kid climbing around on the dam saw the roof of the car under the water.” Mike handed him a slip of paper. “Here’s the number of the trooper in charge.”

  Harvey snatched the paper and growled at Eddie, Pete, and Arnie, “All right, you guys get out of here, but be ready first thing in the morning. We leave at 7:30 sharp.”

  “You want me to go with you, Harv?” Eddie asked, his dark eyes large and wistful.

  “Naw, I could be up all night with this. Go home and unwind. Get some sleep.”

  “It’s out of our jurisdiction.” Eddie’s regret was plain.

  Mike turned back, halfway to his desk in the middle of the open room that housed the five men of the Priority Unit. “You get up there stat, Harvey. You might make it before they tow the car. If there’s a body in it, you make your case for him being killed in Portland. You’ve put too much time in on this. I don’t want the State Police to get it.”

  “The car’s in Falmouth,” began Pete Bearse, the unit’s legal student. He’d been taking night classes at the USM law school for years, and Harvey was afraid they’d lose him to the bar someday. “If the autopsy says he drowned …”

  Mike glared at Pete. “Until we hear that from the M.E., it’s our case.”

  *****

  When he stepped into the general office at Coastal Technology, Harvey automatically searched for Jennifer Wainthrop. He’d avoided going back to the building during the first phase of the investigation, sending the other men instead, while he questioned Dunham’s wife and coordinated a massive search.

  Her chair was empty. He scanned the large room and spotted her, standing before a vertical file, flipping through folders. The sight of her set his pulse hammering.

  She looked more sophisticated today, in a dark, businesslike suit. The slim skirt fell below her knees, and her low-heeled black pumps were functional and conservative.

  Her hair was different. The wealth of tresses was knotted demurely on the back of her head, fastened with a metal barrette. How could that cascade of shimmering gold be tamed by one flimsy clasp? One deft movement would release it, and—

  She turned away from the cabinet with a folder in her hand and saw him across the room, freezing for an instant with her hand in midair, her lips slightly parted. He couldn’t help smiling as her gray eyes flared momentarily. She recognized him.

  She didn’t smile, but she nodded ever so slightly then hurried toward her work station. Harvey stood still for another moment, breathing slowly. From this distance, in the soft artificial lighting, he wasn’t positive, but it seemed a flush had crept up her face. She sat down with her back to him, and he watched the back of her neck. Her shoulders were stiff, as if she knew he was watching her, but the curve of her neck was at the same time alluring and vulnerable.

  She looked older in the Grace Kelly getup. Maybe she wasn’t out of reach on principle, after all. Immediately he gave himself a mental kick. She was in Eddie’s peer group, not his. But something told him Eddie, who was every girl’s type, would not be Jennifer’s type.

  He had brushed past Leola, the receptionist, saying he’d find his own way back to the partners’ offices, but with a guilty start he realized his intent. He’d hoped to see Jennifer again, to somehow manage a private word with her.

  The admission brought on confusion that he wasn’t used to and didn’t like. It had been years since he’d felt the desire to cultivate a woman’s acquaintance. But he wasn’t married any more. Why not go at it directly, just call her some evening?

  There was the age factor, of course, and then there were the regulations. But she wasn’t a major player in the case, and when it went inactive, what difference did it make? But he’d made himself stay away from her.

  Until today. The intervening weeks had given him time to think about the turbulent feelings he’d experienced after their first meeting, and he’d thought about them a lot. He had a legitimate excuse to see her again, but had avoided it. In the back of his mind, Carrie was still a deterrent when he’d met Jennifer, he could see that now. He’d told himself he didn’t want to plunge into the treacherous social whirl again. He was settled, and while he might not be exactly content with his life the way it was, he didn’t want to repeat the emotional havoc he’d been through before. And so he’d sent Arnie or Eddie to deal with the Coastal Technology partners and employees after that first day.

  But now, whether consciously or not, he had decided that he wanted to follow through on the acquaintance. Was this what Grandma Lewis had meant? Jennifer had haunted his sleepless nights for weeks, and now that he’d seen her again, he knew he couldn’t walk away without some sort of personal contact. He had to know if it was just him, or if she felt it, too—the illogical, unexpected attraction.

  Slowly, deliberately, he walked around the edge of the room and stopped next to the opening in the dividers beside her desk.

  She stopped typing.

  *****

  Jennifer sat motionless for an instant. From the corner of her eye she saw him, but before his approach her inner radar had been screaming. If he had left the room, she would have known it immediately without looking.

  “Miss Wainthrop.”

  She lifted her head slowly. “Hello.”

  She hadn’t thought of him as handsome before, but that was her new first impression. Safe had been her initi
al thought eight weeks ago, but now she wondered if that assessment was accurate. Could he actually be dangerous in ways she hadn’t foreseen? Her ragged pulse warned her. Something beneath his ordinariness was startling.

  His trendless clothes were rumpled, and he had a hint of stubble on his chin. He smiled again, and the crow’s feet deepened, pulling her attention back to his eyes, rimmed below with the cast of fatigue, as if he’d been short on sleep for days.

  He glanced over her head, and she looked around quickly, catching Jane staring openly. The brunette quickly resumed her typing, but with a smile on her Cherry Mist lips.

  “I wondered if you’d be so kind as to take me back to the private offices.” The detective’s tone was calming, but his nearness counteracted the effect.

  “Of course.” Jennifer rose, determined not to show a scrap of the elation she’d felt when she’d seen him. That resolution was destroyed when she pushed her chair back too hard, hitting the file cabinet behind her with a clash.

  She swallowed. “This way.”

  When she moved into the aisle, she felt her skirt swish against him and quickened her pace. By the time they were out of the work room, in the hall, she knew her face was scarlet.

  “Which of the partners did you wish to see?” she asked woodenly, without looking back at him.

  “I’ll need to speak to all of them,” Harvey replied, “but first—is it all right if I ask you a few more questions?”

  Jennifer’s step faltered, and she glanced sideways at him as he came alongside her. “Certainly.” She tried to sound as calm as he did, hoping desperately that she would give away no hint of the countless times she’d thought of him in recent weeks. Mr. Owen’s door, far down the hall, was closed. “They may be busy at the moment, anyway, but it looks like the conference room is free.”

  She led the way then turned to face him, extremely aware of his proximity.

  *****

  Harvey took the same chair he’d used before and tried to rationalize his decision to update one of the firm’s programmers before breaking the news to the bosses. “Miss Wainthrop—Jennifer.”