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Brogan twisted to reach for the seatbelt. “Was it my imagination, or was there an edginess to Wally today? I’ve never seen him like that.”
“The guy was probably pushing it to get Marley’s car ready. Putting an engine back together has to be nerve-wracking.”
“So just me then,” Brogan decided.
Lucien swung the truck wide and exited onto Main Street so he could pull up in front of the police station. “Look, if we need to follow up with him again, we will. But I don’t see Wally holding back information critical to IDing the girl. Why would he? He wasn’t even born yet when Gidget died. So why cover for this Zephyr guy?”
“Maybe Zephyr is a long-time friend, someone who taught him to surf or something. We should probably get to know some of the surfers around here. They might be able to help us.”
“I surf,” he reminded her. “You used to.”
“I don’t think I’ve been on a board since I was sixteen. I’m not exactly grace in the water, either. You don’t surf that often anymore.”
“We’ve been a little busy over the last year, putting in the garden, planting the orchard, keeping up my furniture business, settling into married life, becoming websleuths. I didn’t feel much like surfing with all of it going on. Who knew I’d actually like growing things?”
“It’s called gardening,” Brogan said with a laugh. “I wondered if you were just going through the motions for me.”
“Now you know. I’m a gardener. Never thought I’d say that out loud.”
“Just this morning, you were calling me a plant hoarder.”
“I’m full of crap. You know that.”
She gave him a light punch on the arm. “You’re preaching to the choir here. Let’s go in and talk to Brent. Then I’m ready to call it a day and get back home.”
They found Eastlyn Parker on duty at the front desk and Brent’s office empty.
“If you’re looking for the Chief, he’s on a call with Del Rio.”
“When do you expect him back?”
“Could be hours. They’re at Mack Vonner’s place, checking out a case of animal cruelty. Someone killed Mack’s three dogs overnight.”
Brogan’s jaw dropped. “That’s terrible. Who would do such a thing?”
“Del Rio thinks it’s someone from the east side of San Sebastian with a history of doing stuff like this. That’s why Brent went with him to visit the guy, double-team him with questions, hard-press him for where he was last night.”
“Jeez, that sounds dangerous,” Brogan said, trading looks with Lucien. “I guess I didn’t realize until this minute how understaffed and shorthanded you guys are.”
“We manage. You get used to it, but sometimes it’s tough. The town budget doesn’t exactly make the job attractive to most people.”
“Has Brent ever considered hiring another cop?”
“The Chief had someone in mind last year, but they turned it down because the pay was crap.”
“What exactly are we talking about salary-wise?” Lucien asked, glancing over at Brogan, who gave him a nod.
Eastlyn muttered a number that was barely a livable wage. “Why?”
“Between Brogan and me, I think we could cover the cost of adding a new recruit to the department.”
Eastlyn looked skeptical. Her eyes darted from one to the other as if she hadn’t heard correctly. Then she figured out the reason for the offer. “Who did you have in mind?”
“That’s up to Brent.”
The cop sat up straighter. “You’re not trying to push someone you know into the job?”
Brogan’s brow furrowed. “Why would we do that? We don’t know anyone who would qualify. Besides, we live here. This is our home. We want the most capable individual to protect and serve the community Brent can find. No one has to know where the money comes from, do they?”
