Chapter Fourteen

Chief Paul Schrik was opening a double-sized take-out container of buffalo wings and blue cheese dressing from Mr. E’s, a favorite local restaurant. The pungent aromas caused Parrott’s mouth to water. Mr. E’s wings were the absolute best.

Parrott stopped short at the doorway. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb your lunch. I’ll come back later.”

Schrik closed the box and shoved it back into the paper bag on his desk. “Don’t be silly. I can eat anytime. C’mon in and sit down.” The smile on Schrik’s face seemed genuine enough. “I had a hankering for wings that I couldn’t resist. Not the best for my diet, though.”

Parrott perched on the guest chair and crossed his leg, thinking about the best way to broach this unsavory subject. Just stick to the truth, his mother always said, and that had proven to be good advice up until now. “Chief, there’s something on my mind that’s been there for quite a while now. It has to do with our relationship.”

Schrik broke eye contact and fiddled with the take-out bag on his desk. “What do you mean by that? Don’t we have a good relationship?”

“I always thought we did. You’ve always supported and encouraged me—until a few months ago. After the Allmond case closed, seems like things are different. I’ve tried to tell myself it was all in my head, that you still trusted me and valued my work. But lately—”

“I do value your work, Parrott. What would make you think otherwise?” Schrik held his arms out, hands up.

“Little put-downs here and there. Maybe I’ve been too sensitive, but you never used to talk that way to me. And—”

“—can’t imagine what you’re thinking of. I don’t recall any put-downs. If there were, they were unintentional.”

“—I could overlook little remarks, Chief, but I believe this morning, while I was out at Bryn Mawr talking to Claire Whitman’s granddaughter, you went into my office and sat at my desk. Am I right?”

Staring at his hands, Schrik took a few seconds. “I guess I’m not surprised by your detection skills. I thought I’d covered my tracks pretty well.”

Parrott pressed his lips together in something less than a smile. “All except for the cologne traces and a single hair you left behind. But why, Chief? Why not just ask me anything you need to know? This feels like you don’t trust me.”

Schrik sighed, pushing his chair back from his desk and standing. He walked to the large window and stared outside. “I didn’t think it would come to this with you. When I hired you I hoped you would grow in the job, maybe replace me as chief someday. You started out so brilliantly.”

“So, you are unhappy with my work. Is that what you’re saying?” Parrott tried, but couldn’t think of a single time when he’d been reprimanded or failed to complete a task on time.

“Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Schrik paced, fingers interlocked behind his back, a pose Parrott had seen many times.

“I don’t understand then.”

“Look,” Schrik said, taking his seat again and meeting Parrott’s eyes. “First you become independently wealthy through a gift from a community member—”

Heat rose from Parrott’s gut to his face. “You and I talked about that before I accepted the money, and you told me it was not a conflict, that the gift had no relationship to the art theft, which was our case. You told me to accept it.”

“I know I did. And that’s still true. I was pretty sure you wouldn’t want to keep working here after that. Why take on all the stress when you don’t have to work another day in your life? But you decided to stay on, and I was glad.”

The more Schrik talked, the more confused Parrott became. “My career means a lot to me. I don’t want to give it up.” He spoke through clenched teeth then. “So, is it the money, or what?”

Schrik’s squinty eyes peered into Parrott’s. “Let me ask you a question. Are you planning to move to Galveston, Texas, to work for the PD down there?”

A light flashed in Parrott’s brain. He and Tonya had met the Chief of Police in Galveston when they were there on their honeymoon. Parrott had helped out on a case, and there had been some chatter about how great it would be for the Parrotts to move there. Parrott had forgotten all about it.

“Is that what’s got you all upset? The answer is no. I don’t have any intention of leaving. Chief Gonzalez was grateful when I helped him interpret some evidence, and he might have mentioned having me apply for a job, but that was a year ago, and I didn’t think anything of it. How did you even hear about that?”

“Gonzalez called me. Asked what I thought of your performance. Hinted around that a guy like you’d be better off in a more lively environment with better climate. Yada, yada. I was chafed that you would apply for another job without telling me about it. Thought you were going to leave us high and dry.”

“I’m as surprised as you that Gonzalez would call. I never had a single serious discussion with him. Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave my family, and Tonya wouldn’t want to leave Elle. Sorry to put you through any worry.” Parrott gave his boss what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Why didn’t you just ask me? You could’ve saved us both a lot of stress.”

Schrik returned the smile with a sheepish look. “Guess I felt it was your place to come to me, not the other way around. Prideful of me.”

Remembering the hair on his desk, Parrott asked, “So what were you doing at my desk?”

“Looking for correspondence, notes, anything that might reveal what was going on with you and Galveston. I know it seems I didn’t trust you, and maybe I didn’t. I’m sorry. The kind of detective you are, I should’ve known you’d find me out.”

A huge weight that had been sitting on Parrott’s shoulders for many weeks began to shuffle off into the stratosphere. “There’s a lesson here about communication. I’m sorry it took so much time to straighten out this misunderstanding. I’d never apply for another job without talking to you first. I guess I’d better call Chief Gonzalez and set him straight, too.”

“All right, then,” Schrik said. “How about I warm up these wings for both of us? You can tell me what’s going on with the Whitman case while we eat.”

As if on cue, Parrott’s stomach gurgled, and both men laughed.