by?”
“How about my office in an hour?” he said quickly, and I didn’t see the point of arguing.
“See you then,” I said and handed Bergin the phone. “Jim, thanks. I’m sure this place is going to be the center of the storm for a few days.”
“I’ll be here. You need anything, you just holler.”
As we got back into the car, I said, “I wonder what Sam Carter wants.”
Estelle shrugged and left it at that. I added, “That’s going to be an interesting conversation.” One corner of her mouth twitched just a bit, and the crow’s-foot by the corner of her left eye deepened for an instant.
“I can tell you right now what he’s going to say,” she said.
“I’d rather wait and let it be a surprise,” I told her. “We’ll compare notes later. Keep the heat on the medical examiner’s office for some preliminary results. And then you and I have to find a quiet corner and do some serious talking ourselves.”
She nodded, and we drove the rest of the way back to the Public Safety Building in silence.
C HAPTER E IGHT
The electronic eye saw me and snapped open the big glass doors of the Trust SuperMarket. The place was quiet and smelled of bleach and floor wax, and then, as I took a few steps in, the other odors—most of them from a display of baked goods off to my left—wafted over to greet me.
The first in a line of four checkout registers was to my right, and Taffy Hines was working there, bent over a large bound volume of computer printouts splayed over the conveyor.
“Is Sam around?” I asked, and Taffy looked up quickly. She was fortyish, a bleached blonde, and had the sort of facial wrinkles that hinted at too many cigarette breaks.
“He’s out back,” she said and gestured down an aisle.
I walked between chips, soft drinks, and bottled water for several yards, heading toward the dairy case and the white, windowless door beside it.
Before I reached it, Sam Carter rounded the corner, his lean face set in grim lines.
“Glad you could come by,” he said, shaking my hand. His grip was dry and limp. “Let’s find us a quiet corner.”
He led me through the door by the dairy case and then up a short flight of stairs. His office was cramped, with only enough room for a single large folding table, two chairs, and the junk that made his business go. He pushed a pile of papers out of my way so I had a place to prop an elbow.
He stopped fussing finally and settled into his old-fashioned swivel chair. What would appear to customers to be the polished mirror over the meat-display case was actually his office window. He had a good view of the place, and I could look out and see, fifty yards away, Taffy Hines still mulling over the computer readout.
“So,” I said.
Carter leaned forward with both forearms on his knees. He cocked his head at me, one eyebrow up. “Did you ever imagine something as terrible as this?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“God,” he said, and leaned back in the chair, gazing out the window at his customerless store.
He turned his head and regarded me. The index finger of his left hand strayed to his mouth and he bit the nail. “I talked to Tobe this morning,” he said, “and to Hewitt earlier.”
Hewitt Stewart was a third county commissioner.
“We’re calling a special meeting for Monday afternoon at one. We’d sure like for you to be there.”
I nodded slowly. “I can do that, I guess. It’s going to be an awkward time, Sam.”
“Federal boys be in town sometime today?”
“Yes.”
“And no telling how long they’ll be involved, is there?”
“No.”
He nodded quickly. “That’s really no concern of mine, or anyone else’s outside of your bailiwick. And that’s not why I asked you to drop by. Let me get right to the point.”
He leaned forward again, brow furrowed. “This goes no farther than this room,” he said. I raised an eyebrow and didn’t reply.
“The county commission wants to appoint you in Sheriff Holman’s place
“How about my office in an hour?” he said quickly, and I didn’t see the point of arguing.
“See you then,” I said and handed Bergin the phone. “Jim, thanks. I’m sure this place is going to be the center of the storm for a few days.”
“I’ll be here. You need anything, you just holler.”
As we got back into the car, I said, “I wonder what Sam Carter wants.”
Estelle shrugged and left it at that. I added, “That’s going to be an interesting conversation.” One corner of her mouth twitched just a bit, and the crow’s-foot by the corner of her left eye deepened for an instant.
“I can tell you right now what he’s going to say,” she said.
“I’d rather wait and let it be a surprise,” I told her. “We’ll compare notes later. Keep the heat on the medical examiner’s office for some preliminary results. And then you and I have to find a quiet corner and do some serious talking ourselves.”
She nodded, and we drove the rest of the way back to the Public Safety Building in silence.
C HAPTER E IGHT
The electronic eye saw me and snapped open the big glass doors of the Trust SuperMarket. The place was quiet and smelled of bleach and floor wax, and then, as I took a few steps in, the other odors—most of them from a display of baked goods off to my left—wafted over to greet me.
The first in a line of four checkout registers was to my right, and Taffy Hines was working there, bent over a large bound volume of computer printouts splayed over the conveyor.
“Is Sam around?” I asked, and Taffy looked up quickly. She was fortyish, a bleached blonde, and had the sort of facial wrinkles that hinted at too many cigarette breaks.
“He’s out back,” she said and gestured down an aisle.
I walked between chips, soft drinks, and bottled water for several yards, heading toward the dairy case and the white, windowless door beside it.
Before I reached it, Sam Carter rounded the corner, his lean face set in grim lines.
“Glad you could come by,” he said, shaking my hand. His grip was dry and limp. “Let’s find us a quiet corner.”
He led me through the door by the dairy case and then up a short flight of stairs. His office was cramped, with only enough room for a single large folding table, two chairs, and the junk that made his business go. He pushed a pile of papers out of my way so I had a place to prop an elbow.
He stopped fussing finally and settled into his old-fashioned swivel chair. What would appear to customers to be the polished mirror over the meat-display case was actually his office window. He had a good view of the place, and I could look out and see, fifty yards away, Taffy Hines still mulling over the computer readout.
“So,” I said.
Carter leaned forward with both forearms on his knees. He cocked his head at me, one eyebrow up. “Did you ever imagine something as terrible as this?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“God,” he said, and leaned back in the chair, gazing out the window at his customerless store.
He turned his head and regarded me. The index finger of his left hand strayed to his mouth and he bit the nail. “I talked to Tobe this morning,” he said, “and to Hewitt earlier.”
Hewitt Stewart was a third county commissioner.
“We’re calling a special meeting for Monday afternoon at one. We’d sure like for you to be there.”
I nodded slowly. “I can do that, I guess. It’s going to be an awkward time, Sam.”
“Federal boys be in town sometime today?”
“Yes.”
“And no telling how long they’ll be involved, is there?”
“No.”
He nodded quickly. “That’s really no concern of mine, or anyone else’s outside of your bailiwick. And that’s not why I asked you to drop by. Let me get right to the point.”
He leaned forward again, brow furrowed. “This goes no farther than this room,” he said. I raised an eyebrow and didn’t reply.
“The county commission wants to appoint you in Sheriff Holman’s place
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