“I expected to find you more upset than I am. Usually senseless deaths hit you especially hard."
“I had a little help from another friend,” Brandy confessed.
“Church?"
“A new friend. Dan Martin."
“So that's working out,” said Carrie. “Is he nice?"
“Very. He came down to the station to help me on the computer. He didn't know he was helping me get over the Perkins fiasco."
“Oh. Another business relationship. Maybe that's all women should try to have with men."
“We're going out to dinner tomorrow,” said Brandy. “I'm not sure why. We don't have much in common."
“But you like him,” said Carrie.
“Yes, I like him. He's smart, and so polite he's almost old-fashioned."
“Older?” Carrie asked.
“Mid-thirties. You realize it won't be that long before you and I reach thirty?"
“I already feel as old as the hills,” said Carrie. “Do you think this could be the one?"
“Carrie, I hardly know him!” Brandy protested. “Besides, it's always the same: at first they're intrigued that I'm a cop. Then they find out about the long hours, eventually somebody takes a shot at me, and pretty soon here comes the ultimatum: the man or the badge."
Carrie studied her friend. “You're a strange one, Brandy Mather. With that badge you accepted responsibility for the whole populace of Murphy—but when it comes to the commitment everybody else takes so casually, all you can do is put obstacles in its path."
* * * *
The next morning, Brandy told Church what she and Dan Martin had turned up. “Professor Land apparently faked his way into graduate school, taking on a whole new identity. I want to find out who he was before that."
“That money,” said Church. “Almost thirty thousand—a lot back then. You think he's connected to a robbery, sneaked off with the loot and let accomplices go to jail?"
“Or embezzled from wherever he worked before becoming Everett Land. Maybe it was ransom money, or a payoff. He could be the brains behind some big heist. This guy spoke seven languages, Church. It could be an international thing. Maybe he had the brains to plan it, but then couldn't take a life of crime. So he skipped out, changed his name, and ended up here in the middle of nowhere."
“You think somebody connected with that money finally caught up with him?"
“Could be. Could be anything. I love this case, Church. The more complicated it gets, the better!"
But Police Chief Harvey Benton didn't love the case. When Brandy made her report, including requests for help from the Oxford, Mississippi, police department, he told her, “This case is closed, Detective Mather. Closed. The man died of natural causes. Now get your butt out of here and do some real police work!"
Stunned, Brandy returned to her desk. Everyone in the department received such a dressing down occasionally—but only when they had failed badly, as with the Perkins situation yesterday. She had never before been scolded like a naughty child for going beyond the call of duty.
The only neglected item on her desk was the Perkins paperwork. She toyed with the idea of ignoring it and going back into the computer as Dan had shown her, looking for criminal evidence on Everett Land. Maybe later.
“10-17 at the Bank of Murphy!” That was the silent alarm, indicating a robbery in progress.
The bank, which had just opened for the day, was right around the corner. The police arrived to see a man come running out carrying a flour sack, undoubtedly stuffed with money. He raised a rifle at a uniformed officer. The shot went wild, but police and civilians hit the sidewalk as the man ran for a double-parked pickup.
Brandy caught only a glimpse of the red-haired woman in the truck, but from the hair, the man's flour sack and Day-Glo orange hunting cap, and the silvered sunglasses both wore, she recognized Chase and Jenny Anderson, wanted in three states for bank robbery, murder, assault, grand theft auto, and assorted lesser offenses. They hit
“I had a little help from another friend,” Brandy confessed.
“Church?"
“A new friend. Dan Martin."
“So that's working out,” said Carrie. “Is he nice?"
“Very. He came down to the station to help me on the computer. He didn't know he was helping me get over the Perkins fiasco."
“Oh. Another business relationship. Maybe that's all women should try to have with men."
“We're going out to dinner tomorrow,” said Brandy. “I'm not sure why. We don't have much in common."
“But you like him,” said Carrie.
“Yes, I like him. He's smart, and so polite he's almost old-fashioned."
“Older?” Carrie asked.
“Mid-thirties. You realize it won't be that long before you and I reach thirty?"
“I already feel as old as the hills,” said Carrie. “Do you think this could be the one?"
“Carrie, I hardly know him!” Brandy protested. “Besides, it's always the same: at first they're intrigued that I'm a cop. Then they find out about the long hours, eventually somebody takes a shot at me, and pretty soon here comes the ultimatum: the man or the badge."
Carrie studied her friend. “You're a strange one, Brandy Mather. With that badge you accepted responsibility for the whole populace of Murphy—but when it comes to the commitment everybody else takes so casually, all you can do is put obstacles in its path."
* * * *
The next morning, Brandy told Church what she and Dan Martin had turned up. “Professor Land apparently faked his way into graduate school, taking on a whole new identity. I want to find out who he was before that."
“That money,” said Church. “Almost thirty thousand—a lot back then. You think he's connected to a robbery, sneaked off with the loot and let accomplices go to jail?"
“Or embezzled from wherever he worked before becoming Everett Land. Maybe it was ransom money, or a payoff. He could be the brains behind some big heist. This guy spoke seven languages, Church. It could be an international thing. Maybe he had the brains to plan it, but then couldn't take a life of crime. So he skipped out, changed his name, and ended up here in the middle of nowhere."
“You think somebody connected with that money finally caught up with him?"
“Could be. Could be anything. I love this case, Church. The more complicated it gets, the better!"
But Police Chief Harvey Benton didn't love the case. When Brandy made her report, including requests for help from the Oxford, Mississippi, police department, he told her, “This case is closed, Detective Mather. Closed. The man died of natural causes. Now get your butt out of here and do some real police work!"
Stunned, Brandy returned to her desk. Everyone in the department received such a dressing down occasionally—but only when they had failed badly, as with the Perkins situation yesterday. She had never before been scolded like a naughty child for going beyond the call of duty.
The only neglected item on her desk was the Perkins paperwork. She toyed with the idea of ignoring it and going back into the computer as Dan had shown her, looking for criminal evidence on Everett Land. Maybe later.
“10-17 at the Bank of Murphy!” That was the silent alarm, indicating a robbery in progress.
The bank, which had just opened for the day, was right around the corner. The police arrived to see a man come running out carrying a flour sack, undoubtedly stuffed with money. He raised a rifle at a uniformed officer. The shot went wild, but police and civilians hit the sidewalk as the man ran for a double-parked pickup.
Brandy caught only a glimpse of the red-haired woman in the truck, but from the hair, the man's flour sack and Day-Glo orange hunting cap, and the silvered sunglasses both wore, she recognized Chase and Jenny Anderson, wanted in three states for bank robbery, murder, assault, grand theft auto, and assorted lesser offenses. They hit
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