It was barely seven o’clock, and Nisswa Park looked like the Minneapolis International Airport on Christmas Eve. Not only with the mass of people milling just beyond the front gate, but clearly whoever was in charge of the snow machine had it on overdrive. Melting slush covered every inch of ground all the way up to the busy road. Someone spent all night on that project, thought Doyle.
Doyle’s classic, yet humble Dodge Stratus waited in a long line that also included police cars, television news vans, and plain-looking vehicles that probably belonged to the film crew members staying at nearby hotels.
“This coffee tastes like shit,” Amanda said.
“That seems to be the popular opinion,” said Doyle.
“Oh, God—“ said Amanda.
“What? Is it decaf?” asked Doyle.
“No, not that. The security guard. That’s the same guy who gave us such a tough time when we first got here?”
Doyle looked in the direction she was pointing.
“Oh, yeah. Steve the Security Guard. He was quite the character,” said Doyle.
“Also not the brightest. And, oh, look, he has a gun. Fantastic,” said Amanda.
Doyle eyed Amanda’s coffee again. “I’m not sure about decaf, but apparently they went a little heavy on the sarcasm, Officer Hutchins.”
“Give me a break. It’s early,” she replied.
“Fair enough. Besides, I’m pretty sure we don’t need to worry about Steve. I’m certain he remembers us.”
A few minutes later, they pulled up to the entrance. Doyle said, “Hi there, Steve.”
The security guard focused on Doyle. Then he looked at Amanda in the passenger seat. Then he took a couple steps forward at peered in at William in the backseat. Then his eyes went wide. He pulled out his gun.
“Get out of the car,” he yelled, waving the gun around.
Doyle noticed for the first time that Steve was somewhat cross-eyed. He wasn’t sure if that was relevant, but he found it somewhat disconcerting to have a cross-eyed person pointing a gun at him.
“Get out of the car now!” Steve the Security Guard repeated.
Doyle began to open the door.
“Stop! Do not open that door!” screamed the guard.
“But you said—“
“Get out of the car now!” said the guard.
“So I should—okay, sure …“ said Doyle, as he rolled down his window all the way, then proceeded to climb through it, and fall to the ground with a plop.
Doyle looked back over his shoulder. Neither Amanda nor William had moved an inch.
“Get out of the—“ Steve was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. The hand that held the gun jerked up in the air, causing Amanda and William to duck and Doyle to roll to the side.
An officer Doyle didn’t recognize asked Steve, “What seems to be the situation?”
“Oh, hi, Frank. Did you see these three on America’s Most Wanted?”
Officer Frank looked at the three flinching detectives. “Which episode?” he asked.
“The one last night,” said Steve.
“I saw it. What story?”
“The thing in Budapest,” said Steve.
Frank thought for a moment. A look of dreadful agony swept his face.
“Steve. Buddy. Are you referring to the three gentlemen that went on a murder spree in Budapest?”
“Yes! That’s the one,” said Steve.
“You mean the three Chinese gentlemen?” asked Frank.
Steve the Security Guard took another long look at the detectives.
“Oh, yeah. They were Chinese, weren’t they?”
Frank shook his head and turned his back to Steve.
“Then where do I know you guys from?” asked the security guard.
“We were here a couple days ago. After Wilde was murdered,” said Amanda. “And in addition to not being Chinese, I’m also not a man. For the record.”
Steve nodded. “Okay, yeah. That’s where I recognize y’all from. I knew you looked familiar for some reason.”
“I guess that’s why you’re the security guard, right?” said Doyle still on the ground.
“That’s right. I never forget a face. Say, you can stand up now, fella,” said Steve. “Sorry about that. Mr. W told me to be extra cautious today. He didn’t want any hoopla or hootenanny going down today.”
“I understand,” said Doyle, brushing a mixture of mud and slush off his pants. “Thank God there won’t be any of that.”
“Damn straight,” said Steve, re-holstering his gun.
“Can we go in now?” asked Doyle, getting back into his car.
“You betcha,” said Steve. “Enjoy Nisswa Park.”