Vineland Park’s police headquarters was part of the town hall and municipal complex, done in Spanish Mission style with smooth, off-white stucco and red tile roofing. There was an ornate central tower topped with a slight dome and a courtyard with a simple circular fountain. The landscaping was green and lush and fragrant. There wasn’t a leaf or petal out of place. The sight of the complex made Jesse smile because it looked like a smaller-scale version of the Beverly Hills town hall. Jesse remarked on that to Kahan.
“Should look like it,” he said as they walked from the SUV to the entrance. “Same man designed it. And by the way, Diana is even more beautiful in person than in photos. After what she said to me before, I figured I better not say that in front of her.”
“Smart man.”
They stopped at the front desk. The sergeant manning it, a fit, bald fellow with a passive I’ve seen it all before expression, smiled at Kahan.
“Hey, Bill,” Kahan said, removing a .40 Beretta from his hip holster and placing it on the counter. “This is Chief Jesse Stone of the Paradise, Massachusetts, PD. We’re here to see—”
“Chief’s waiting. Y’all can go on back. I’ll locker this in the meantime,” he said, removing Kahan’s Beretta from the desk.
As they walked back to Pruitt’s office, Kahan explained that Vineland Park cross-trained their police as firemen and EMTs.
“These folks are very good at their jobs and very well paid. Lots of big money around here, so it’s not your ordinary small village PD.” Then, realizing how Jesse might hear that, he said, “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“And don’t be fooled by Pruitt’s down-home cowboy manner. He’s retired military intelligence and smart as the day is hot.”
They came to a big, high-arched dark wood door. Pruitt’s name and title were inscribed in gold on a metal plaque. Kahan knocked.
“Well, come on in, boys.”
Pruitt was a tall man, all arms and legs, with a tanned, weathered face. He had droopy lids over faded blue eyes that had seen a lot of things but that wouldn’t give up their secrets without a fight. He had an easy smile and the teeth of a man who had spent some money to bleach out the tobacco stains and had mostly succeeded. He stood a good six-four, and that was with a slight stoop. Still, the man looked sharp in his dark blue uniform.
There was a brief round of handshakes and of sizing one another up. Jesse noticed a hint of disdain in the way Pruitt looked at Kahan. Pruitt noticed Jesse noticed. They didn’t need to discuss it. It was understood. No cop, especially a chief, wants to feel like he’s got to lick a citizen’s boots just because that citizen works for someone rich and powerful. Paradise may not have been Vineland Park in terms of wealth, but Jesse had had to deal with the rich and powerful and their flunkies from the day he accepted the job as chief. But there was something else in Pruitt’s eyes beyond disdain that he hoped he’d get a chance to discuss with the chief.
“Have a seat, boys.” Pruitt gestured at the rustic, untanned cowhide chairs across from his desk.
When Kahan and Jesse sat, he sat.
Jesse, anxious to get back to the hotel and to call Paradise, spoke first. “Anything more from Belinda Yankton?”
“Nothing that’ll help you. That sick bastard played mind games with that poor girl for weeks,” Pruitt said. “She may never be right again.”
“Well,” Kahan said, “she certainly won’t be rude again.”
No one laughed.
“Why do you think he let her go?” Pruitt asked.
Kahan made a face. “She escaped.”
Jesse begged to differ. “No, she didn’t. Peepers enjoys killing, pretty women most of all. He had an ulterior motive. He wanted her to deliver a message.”
“Which is?” Kahan wanted to know.
“That he’s in control,” Jesse said. “It’s up to him who lives and who dies and when. He also wanted her to feed us information. Chief Pruitt, do you think you could arrange for me to talk to Belinda alone?”
“Ain’t a Vineland Park matter, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Kahan laughed. “That means yes, Stone.”
Jesse noticed that disdain in Pruitt’s eyes again.
“Like I said, Jesse, I’ll see what I can do. But in the meantime, there’s been a few other developments we should discuss.”
“Developments?” Jesse furrowed his brow.
Kahan’s tone turned nasty. “And why don’t I know about them?”
Pruitt stood tall out of his chair. “Listen, son.” He pointed at the stars on the epaulets of his uniform. “Your boss’s money and influence make him someone this department listens to, but he’s your boss, not mine. Now, as soon as Chief Stone does me an honor, I’ll brief you on the developments.”
“What can I do for you, Chief?” Jesse asked.
Pruitt reached into his top drawer. “You can sign this for me.”
It was Jesse’s Triple A baseball card. And when Jesse saw it, that botched double play in Pueblo came rushing back to him. The glory of those years came rushing back, too. But the knot in his belly came from remembering the swinging bunt in the softball game all those Sundays ago, and the glory of the old days seemed much further away than it ever had before.