Читать книгу Waterford Point - Alana Matthews - Страница 11

Nick Chavaree couldn’t remember a time he’d been so frustrated.

He didn’t generally think of himself as an unhappy guy. He was usually pretty genial, as a matter of fact. But this last month in Waterford Point had been something of a nightmare. A nightmare he wouldn’t wish on any cop in the known universe.

It was bad enough that he had three murder victims in as many weeks, all with their heads bashed in. But the fact that the first one had happened right under his nose, while he was sleeping for godsakes, had him wondering about his ability to serve his community.

It wasn’t as if Nick was a stranger to violence. He’d spent five years in the Marines, running his own squad in the desert. But hunting down the Taliban in Afghanistan wasn’t quite the same as gathering evidence at a local crime scene, and he wasn’t afraid to admit that he was a little out of his depth here.

Throw Rachel Hudson into the mix and his bad month was about to get worse. He’d read all of her books—enjoyed them, as a matter of fact—but the thought that he might become the subject of one didn’t sit well. And as beautiful as she might be, he didn’t relish the idea of her sticking her cute little nose into this investigation.

Such as it was.

“You gonna eat that chicken or just stare at it all night along?”

Nick looked up from his plate at Charlie Tevis, who sat across the table from him. Charlie was one of his best deputies and they often had dinner together. They were sitting in a booth near the back of the Bayside Grill, the busiest and best of Waterford’s handful of restaurants.

Charlie was a big guy with an equally genial attitude that hadn’t been diminished by the recent turn of events.

“If you don’t want it,” he said, “slide that plate over here.”

“How do you do it, Charlie?”

“Eat so much? I guess I was just born hungry.”

“No,” Nick said. “How do you stay so cheerful in the face of what’s been going on around here?”

Charlie thought about it a moment, then leaned back. “It’s all about attitude. I learned a long time ago that it’s pointless to take life too seriously.”

“You don’t think three back-to-back murders in a town this size is serious?”

“Of course I do. Serious as a heart attack. But I don’t see any point in moping about it. We’ll catch this son of a gun sooner or later.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.”

“Don’t you worry, he’s bound to slip up. Assuming what we’re talking about here is human.”

Nick stared at him. “Don’t tell me you’re buying into this Weeping Willow nonsense.”

Charlie shrugged. “If I were, I wouldn’t be the only one. Putting this off on a ghost might explain a whole heckuva lot of—”

“Shut your trap, Tevis.”

The voice came from behind Nick, but he didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

He braced himself for the assault.

A moment later, Bill Burgess slid in next to him and stared pointedly at Charlie. “We don’t need that kind of talk coming from our own law enforcement officers.”

Burgess was a former Rockland County judge and a smarmy, self-important jerk who had managed to get himself elected mayor—another mystery Nick had yet to solve.

“The day I start listening to you,” Charlie told him, “is the day I turn in my gun and badge.”

“That can certainly be arranged.”

Burgess and Charlie had gone to high school together and Nick knew there was no love lost between them. Charlie had once told Nick that when he was thinking about returning to Waterford Point, after living across the country for nearly three decades, he may have reconsidered the move if he’d known that Burgess was the new mayor.

But Charlie had always had a soft spot for Maine, and Waterford Point in particular, so he figured he’d do his best to turn lemons into lemonade.

So far it wasn’t working.

“Your threats don’t scare me, Bill, so don’t even bother.”

Burgess’s eyes narrowed. “You think I wouldn’t do it?”

“I think you’re all yap and no follow-through, just like you were in—”

“Stop,” Nick said. “Both of you. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

Burgess’s face was turning red, but he calmed himself.

“Sorry, Nick, but the last thing we need right now is your men perpetuating ridiculous rumors.” He swept an arm out, gesturing to the room. “Look at this place. Best diner in town and it’s practically empty. You start talking ghosts and that’s what Waterford Point will become. A ghost town. And we can’t afford that right now. We’re already strapped enough as it is.”

“People are scared, Bill.”

“Of course they are. That’s my point. You need to catch this guy, Nick. We can’t afford for this to go on much longer.”

“That’s easier said than done. The crime scenes are always pristine. We’ve got no evidence.”

“Then find some.”

“How? I’ve got five deputies, and we’re all stretched thin right now. We spend half our time chasing down false leads, people calling in at every little bump in the night. I’m a small-town sheriff, Bill. I don’t have the manpower or the expertise to handle a case like this.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“I think we should invite the Maine State Police to help us out.”

Burgess shook his head, his tone adamant. “No, no, no,” he said. “We bring the staties in, we’ll only invite more publicity. We’re trying to contain this thing, not expand it.”

“I’m not a miracle worker. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. You’ve got some Native American blood in you. Can’t you do a smoke dance or something? Figure this thing out?”

Nick just stared at him.

Had he really just said that?

Charlie shook his head in disgust. “You are one amazing piece of work, Burgess.”

Burgess glared at him, then got to his feet, shifting his gaze to Nick. “Look, Nick, I like you. The whole town likes you. But I’m starting to wonder if appointing you sheriff was a bad idea.”

“You didn’t appoint me,” Nick said.

Burgess studied him a moment and Nick could clearly see the contempt in his eyes. Nick didn’t often run into outright bigots these days, but he knew one when he saw one.

“That may be true,” Burgess said. “But I can fire you just the same.” He leaned in close. “And if you don’t solve this case pronto, kemosabe, you’ll be heading right back to the reservation.”

Then he turned on his heels and walked away.

RACHEL COULDN’T SLEEP. After over an hour of tossing and turning and trying not to think about all the stuff that was plaguing her, she finally gave up and decided to find a place to go to dinner instead.

When she walked into the Bayside Grill, the last person she expected to find there was Sheriff Nick Chavaree.

He was sitting in a booth in back with one of his deputies, and as the hostess escorted her to a table, she could feel his gaze on her.

He probably thought she was stalking him.

She buried her face in the menu and was trying to decide between a chef’s or Cobb salad, when Chavaree approached and sat down at her table.

He didn’t look happy.

“You don’t give up, do you?”

Rachel put the menu down and sighed. “I told you, Sheriff, I’m not interested in your case. Really. It’s the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

“Yet you just happen to show up here?”

Those eyes of his could melt stone.

“Maddie suggested it, okay? She says it’s the best diner in town—and there aren’t exactly a whole lot of choices.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“You don’t have to, but it’s the truth. I’ve had my fill of murder and mayhem for a while. I’m just here to recharge the batteries.”

She could see that he still wasn’t buying it, but what could she say to change his mind? He looked tired and overtaxed and she instinctively wanted to comfort him somehow.

She wasn’t quite sure where that instinct was coming from but it was there. Something about this guy brought it out in her.

Something beyond his good looks.

“So why do I still get the feeling I’ll wind up in your next book?” he said.

Rachel shook her head. “I’m already in the middle of another project. Besides, I’m putting the career on hold for the time being. Until I get some things sorted out.” She sighed. “Look, I’d be lying to you if I didn’t admit that this Weeping Willow angle is very compelling, but—”

He stiffened. “You know about that?”

“Your friend Maddie likes to talk a lot. But don’t worry, I didn’t push her for details. I don’t really want to know any. In fact, the less I know, the better.”

“Why is that?”

She was about to explain when Chavaree’s deputy came over, pocketing a cell phone as he approached.

His voice was full of tension. “Nick, that was DeMille. We need to go. Now.”

Chavaree looked up at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got a situation.” The deputy leaned toward Chavaree now and whispered in his ear.

Rachel couldn’t hear what was being said, but she didn’t need to.

One of the handy little skills she’d picked up over the years was the ability to read lips. She didn’t always get it right but she came close at least half of the time, and even from this angle she knew exactly what was being said.

“They found another body.”