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36
T hey were shown to a table overlooking the ocean and ordered drinks. Holly contained her news for the moment. When the drinks came, Jackson and Ham raised their glasses.
“To the new chief of police of the Orchid Beach Police Department,” Jackson said.
“Hear, hear,” Ham echoed, grinning.
“Thank you, gentlemen. I suppose this calls for a speech.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Ham said. He squeezed her hand. “I’m sure proud of you, though.”
“Me, too,” Jackson said. “Tell us how the interview went.”
“It was pretty straightforward until the subject came around to you,” Holly said.
“Me?”
“Irma Taggert evidently has a pretty good network of spies around town. She’d nailed you and me as living together, which I denied, and she knew about our landing on the beach on Sunday.”
Jackson whistled. “I’ve underestimated our Irma,” he said. “I’ll try not to do that again.”
“Who’s Irma Taggert?” Ham asked.
“A prune who sits on the city council,” Jackson replied. “How did you handle her, Holly?”
“I pretty much told her it was none of her business, then Charlie Peterson weighed in and shut her up. She put John Westover up to asking about the airplane and bringing up a city ordinance about not landing on beaches. I told him we were outside the city limits and why we landed. He actually apologized for raising the question and gave Irma a look that fried her makeup.”
“Wish I’d been there to see that,” Jackson said.
“Charlie came down and told me I had the job by a three-to-two vote, and that they were making Hurd Wallace deputy chief. That’s okay. I can live with that.”
“So you’re home free, then?”
“I’m not going to be home free while Irma Taggert and John Westover are on the council. Why don’t you run against one of them next election?”
“Now there’s a thought,” Jackson said. “I couldn’t beat John, but I bet I could beat Irma.”
“You’re prettier, too,” Holly said.
“I’m afraid I can’t disagree with you.”
“Listen, I have more news. Cracker Mosely has been spotted in Orchid. Guess where?”
“Under a rock?”
“More or less. He’s a security guard at Palmetto Gardens.”
“I don’t know that I’m all that surprised,” Jackson said. “After all, he worked for Craig and Noble in Miami. He must have come north with Barney.”
“There’s more,” she said, taking the papers from her purse. “Just on a whim, I asked Jane Grey to get me a list of all the state-licensed security guards in Orchid. There are thirty-seven, and nearly half of them work at Palmetto Gardens. I also asked her to get me a list of everybody licensed to carry a weapon in Orchid. There are nearly three hundred people, and one hundred and two of them work at Palmetto Gardens.” She handed him the lists.
“Jesus,” Jackson said, “they’ve practically got a private army there, haven’t they?” He was looking at the lists. “Uh-oh,” he said.
“What?”
“This list of the security guards at Palmetto Gardens—sixteen of them, counting Barney.”
“What about them?”
