26
Ham Barker sat in his Boston Whaler, a rod in his hand, casting into the shallows of the Indian River. As he reeled in his line, a roar came from the river behind him, and his boat rose alarmingly on the wave from a wake.
Ham turned and watched the sports fisherman as it passed him at about twelve knots, not on the plane but with its stern low, pushing out a small tsunami behind it. He saw the name on the stern, Party Girl, and made a mental note to remember it, in case he ever met its owner ashore. Then he caught sight of the man at the helm: one James Bruno. Ham recognized him from his court-martial. A young woman in a bikini sat in the stern, sunning herself.
Ham laid his rod in the boat, pulled in his anchor, started the engine and turned upriver, following Party Girl. He crossed half its wake then settled dead astern, where the wake was smooth. Ham felt a flush of anger just at the sight of Bruno. It was a good thing he wasn’t armed, he thought, or he might have put a couple of rounds into the retired colonel.
He followed the boat upriver and watched as it put into a marina where Ham knew fuel could be bought at a discount, then he slowed and stood off a dozen yards while Bruno tossed his lines to a dock man, then hopped off his boat and walked up the ramp to the marina office to order fuel.
Ham put his boat into gear and motored slowly alongside Party Girl. “Excuse me, miss,” he said to the young woman, who was applying suntan lotion to her body.
She looked up from her work. “Yes?”
“May I ask, how long have you known James Bruno?”
She blinked. “Not long. Why?”
“Are you aware that he has a history of raping women?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” she said. “He’s a perfectly nice man.”
“That’s what the women he raped thought, until he raped them.”
“But he’s the chief of police.”
“Ironic, isn’t it? Don’t take my word for it; Google him and read about his court-martial when he was in the army. I tell you this only for your protection.” Ham looked up and saw Bruno walking back down the ramp toward his boat. Ham put the engine in gear and slowly motored out of the marina.
He looked back and saw an angry discussion taking place on the sports fisherman, then he watched as the woman grabbed a duffle, stuffed some things into it, hopped off the boat and practically ran up the ramp. Ham smiled broadly.
Bruno stood in the stern of his boat, shaking his fist. “You son of a bitch!” he yelled. “Come back here!”
“You’re lucky I don’t,” Ham said to himself, then he put the throttle forward and began running downriver again, laughing aloud. At least he had ruined Bruno’s afternoon, and maybe he had spared the girl an awful experience. He felt very pleased with himself.
Bruno came through the back door of the Orchid Beach police station and stalked down the hall toward his office, still white with rage. As he reached the door he looked across the squad room and saw Lauren Cade leaving Jimmy Weathers’s cubicle. She glanced at him, then turned her head and walked out the front door of the building.
Bruno walked down to Weathers’s cubicle and leaned against the doorjamb.
“Hey, Chief,” Weathers said.
“What was that little bitch doing here?” Bruno demanded.
“She’s working on the rape case, too—you know, with Hurd Wallace’s new unit?”
“You’re the detective in charge of the case,” Bruno said. “Why do you need her?”
“Well, nominally, it’s our case, but Hurd’s outfit has authority from the governor to participate in any case they like. I don’t mind, really, since they can get things like lab work done faster than we can. They have priority.”
“I don’t like that,” Bruno said. “Resign us from the case and let them do the fucking work.”
“Excuse me, Chief, but I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“And why not?”
“Well, I’ve put a lot of time into this case, and I think the more hands we have on it the better we’ll do.”
“And when you break it, you want to share the credit with Hurd Wallace and that bimbo?”
“She’s not a bimbo, Chief; she’s a good police officer and very smart.”
“Yeah, I know how smart she is; she worked for me in the army.”
“I didn’t know that, Chief.”
“She was a disloyal officer.”
“Disloyal? How?”
“She was lazy, undisciplined and tried to take credit for the work of others. She’ll try to take credit for your work, too.”
“Chief, I don’t really think she’s like that,” Jimmy said. “That hasn’t been my experience with her.”
“Well, I have a lot more experience with her than you do.”
“You really want me to resign us from this case? These things are happening on our turf, and if we don’t take responsibility for our jurisdiction the local paper will be all over us, and, believe me, the city council members read the local paper.”
Bruno thought about that. “Do whatever the fuck you want to, then.” He spun around and strode back to his office, slamming the door behind him.
The detective in the next cubicle stood up and looked over the partition at Jimmy Weathers. “What’s the matter with him, Jimmy?”
“I don’t know,” Jimmy said, “but I’m going to find out.”
He flipped open his address book and dialed Holly Barker’s number.
“Hello?”
“Holly, it’s Jimmy Weathers. I got a little situation here.”
“What’s up, Jimmy?”
“Well, the chief just saw Lauren Cade here talking to me, and he pitched a fit.”
“I’m not surprised,” Holly said.
“Well, I was. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“There’s a history between them, Jimmy, and I guess you should know about it.”
“What kind of history?”
“Bruno . . . look, just Google him and read about his court-martial. That’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
“All right, I’ll do that.”
“But Jimmy, don’t mention what you find out to Lauren; just be aware of it.”
“Whatever you say, Holly, and thanks.” He said goodbye and hung up, then he turned to his computer and typed in Bruno’s name.
He read the news stories with wide eyes.
