She fixed herself a salad and ate the steak absently, reflecting on the life that had brought her to Orchid Beach. What had she done wrong? Why had this happened to her? She had made a real career for herself in the army, with consistently outstanding evaluations by her superiors. She’d have made lieutenant colonel in another six months and retired after thirty years as a full colonel. As it was, she’d have only the twenty-year pension as a major, which, while it wasn’t bad, wasn’t what she had planned on. With a little luck, she might even have made it to brigadier general, which would have made Ham proud enough to pop—her mother, too, if she could look down from where she surely was.
She sat until well past dark, trying to limit herself to half the bottle of wine and failing, then she picked up her dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. She put a rubber cork into what was left of the bottle and pumped the air out, keeping it fresh for another time.
She took one more look out the door at the river. The moon had risen and the resulting streak of light across the water came nearly to her feet. An army brat her whole life, right now she was a civilian for the first time. Tomorrow she’d be a cop. She’d get in a run early, to work off the effects of the wine; then she’d be at her new job on the dot.
She undressed and got into bed, naked, and began to drift off. The crickets in the swamp lulled her to sleep. Chet Marley had made a good decision, she thought. She’d do him proud.
CHAPTER
3
Holly found the municipal building half a block off the beach, parked her car in the public lot, went into the building and consulted the directory. Everything seemed neatly packaged in one four-story structure—city manager’s office, council offices, tax office, city attorney, water authority and the other municipal departments, all on the upper floors. Directly ahead on the ground floor, behind a set of glass doors, was the Orchid Beach Police Department. She walked in.
A uniformed officer in what appeared to be his early twenties sat behind a broad desk, a high stool bringing him to her eye level. “Good morning,” she said, “my name is Barker; I have an appointment with Chief Marley.”
He blinked at her, but didn’t move for a moment. “Just a minute,” he said finally, then got up and walked down a row of small offices and disappeared into one. A moment later he returned, followed by an older uniformed officer.
“Morning,” the officer said. He was a little over six feet, of slim build, with glossy black hair cut short. “Can I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Chief Marley,” she said again.
He nodded and opened a gate in the railing that separated the public area from the squad room, where half a dozen desks sat, most of them empty. “Follow me,” he said.
Holly followed the officer to the rear wall of the squad room, and into a large glass-fronted office. He sat down behind the desk and indicated with a silent gesture that she should sit opposite.
“The chief’s not in,” he said. “Can I help you with something?” His attitude was blank, noncommittal, not impolite.
“Chief Marley is expecting me,” she said. “I’ll wait.”
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“My name is Holly Barker.” She waited for a response but got none. “Who are you?” She kept her voice at the same level as his.
“Lieutenant Wallace,” the man replied. “What did you want to see the chief about?”
Holly was a little surprised that her name didn’t ring a bell with Wallace, but perhaps Chet Marley had his reasons for not spreading the word that she was coming to work that day. “I think I’d better wait for the chief and take it up with him,” she said.
“Chief Marley won’t be in today,” Wallace said. “I’m acting chief. Maybe you’d better take it up with me.”
“Acting chief?” Holly said, wrinkling her brow. “I don’t understand; the chief asked me to be here at nine this morning. Why isn’t he coming in?”
“That’s an official matter,” Wallace said.
“So is my appointment with the chief,” she replied evenly.
“Do you know the chief?” Wallace asked.
“Yes.”
“When did you last speak with him?”
“Last night around seven-thirty.”
“In person?”
“On the phone.”
“Do you know where he was at the time?”
“He was at home. I called him there.”
“How long did you talk?”
“Only a couple of minutes. He asked me to come in this morning.”
“For what purpose?”
“I’d rather the chief told you about that.”
“The chief’s not going to be able to do that.”
Now Holly was growing alarmed. “What do you mean?”
“The chief took a bullet in the head last night.”
Holly sat up straight. “Is he dead?”
“Not yet.”
At that moment, a handsome middle-aged woman bustled breathlessly into the room, startling Holly. “Are you Miss Barker?” she asked.
“Yes,” Holly replied.
“I’m so sorry to be late,” the woman said. “I was at the hospital.” She turned to Wallace. “Hurd, did you tell her?”
“Yeah, just now.”
“I’ve just come from the hospital,” the woman said. “I’ve been there since midnight.”
“How is the chief?” Holly asked.
“He was in surgery most of the night; he’s in the recovery room now.”
“Any prognosis?”
“The doctors won’t say anything, but they looked pretty grim. Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Jane Grey, the chief’s assistant.” She offered her hand.
Holly stood up and shook it. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, but you and I have some things to go over. Why don’t you come with me?” She turned to Wallace. “Hurd, I don’t think you ought to be in the chief’s office.” She produced a bunch of keys, waited while Wallace left, then locked the office and beckoned to Holly.
Holly followed her to another office down the hall, as big as the chief’s but crowded with filing cabinets, boxes and storage cabinets.
“Have a seat,” Jane said. “This is where I live, if you can call it that.”
“Tell me how the chief got shot,” Holly said.
“Nobody knows exactly, but it looks like he might have tried to question somebody in a car, who pulled a gun on him. A motorist found him beside A1A around eleven last night. He was lying in front of his car, lit by the headlights. The man called nine-one-one on his car phone, and an ambulance was there in under ten minutes. A woman I know who works in the emergency room called me, and by the time I got there he was already in surgery.”
“I’d like to go and see him as soon as I can,” Holly said.
“They promised they’d call me when they had some idea of how he’s doing,” Jane said. She seemed almost about to cry, but squared her shoulders and sat up straight. “I think the best thing you and I can do right now is get you processed and on the job.” She unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a file. “I’ve got all your paperwork right here; the chief signed everything before he went home last night. I do need to get some information for your ID.” She turned to the computer terminal on her desk and punched a few keys.
“What would you like to know?”
“Date of birth?”
Holly told her.
“Height?”
“Five feet, eight inches.”
“Weight?”
“A hundred and thirty-five pounds.”
“Color of hair?”
“Light brown.”