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Vince. I’d been chilly last night. I should fix that. Especially if I was going to be staying here for a couple of nights. I would not want him to get the wrong idea.
I picked up my phone again.
CHAPTER 10
Tracking down Jim Pitts was not the first thing I did when I got back to Burney. On the way back from the prison, gripping the steering wheel too hard because I was furious at being hoodwinked by the little shit, my phone buzzed with a text message.
I pulled over where it was safe and checked it, hoping it was Liz, over her snit about the paint.
My day did not get better.
Bartlett had sent out a group text to inform us there was a meeting at one PM, which my mind translated automatically to thirteen hundred, for all hands. Which sounds significant but this is Burney. It meant whoever’d had on-call duty last night had to come in for the meeting instead of having the day off and join those in for a normal day of work, along with two who were off today as part of the normal rotation.
I made a mental note that if I was going to go on a crime spree, to do it when Bartlett cleared the town of police. It also meant I didn’t have time to go searching around for Jim. I headed straight for headquarters.
* * *
I stood in the back of the room next to the door because I always believed in being able to make an escape, especially from stupid meetings. I nudged Steve Crider, who was actually in the doorway, half-listening for the 911 phone, as we waited for Bartlett to come out of the office for his big meeting. The window shade which had rarely been closed by George, was down. Maybe Bartlett was jerking off in there?
“Steve, what color are the walls in your bedroom?”
He frowned in thought. “No clue. I think some kind of white. Why?”
“Nothing,” I said.
At three minutes after one, a delay which would have lost him respect in the Rangers, Bartlett deigned to come out of his office. He stood there, arms folded, looking us over as if preparing to order us up Mount Suribachi to plant a flag. Except it was certain he wouldn’t be coming with us. One of those this-plan-looks-good-on-the-map kind of leaders;go forth and execute, I’ll wait here.
He had on a sport coat that was open, so that his chief’s badge was obvious on his belt in the left front. He had a .38 snubnose on his right hip, which must be his own weapon because the department issued 9mm Glocks and that’s what he’d been carrying until now. I’d never seen the gun before. It must be what Bartlett thought went with the job. I made a note that if he was backing me up in a shoot-out, he could be a good diversion making noises with his pop gun. A target to distract the enemy.
“Gentlemen,” he said in a very serious voice. “We begin a new chapter in Burney’s history. But we build on a strong foundation set by Chief Pens. It is unfortunate that he resigned so abruptly.”
That was a lie, but I let it slide since everybody knew what had really happened. I was reminded of the number of new lieutenants and captains we’d had come into the unit and the array of speeches they’d given when taking over. None of it mattered until we saw how they acted when things got hot.
“Burney is on the verge of becoming more than the village we’re used to. Once River Vista becomes a reality, our population will increase by a third. Our tax base will more than double. The force will move headquarters to a new municipal building and will expand and there will be greater opportunities for every one of us. It’s a vibrant future ahead of us.”
I wasn’t sure what “vibrant” meant in terms of a future. But I did feel the vibration in my pocket of a text message. I slid my phone out and checked. I felt slightly better when I saw it was Liz. I felt even better when I read the message.
I’M NAKED.
I fought back a grin. No grinning in meetings with the new boss even if your woman was over her snit. I covertly fumble-fingered a reply: HELLO NAKED.
My phone buzzed again: & ALONE IN BED
Damn right she was alone. I sighed: IN MEETING. NOW W/ NAKED THOUGHTS
Liz texted back: NAKED LUNCH?
The real danger with Liz Danger was that at any minute, she could make all the blood leave my brain. Not to mention cheer me up in a shitstorm of a day with two texted words. A ray of light at the end of the tunnel. As Bartlett droned on about how great the new Burney that wasn’t Burney was going to be, I typed: NAKED YES
U NAKED?
IN YR DREAMS
MY DREAMS: U NAKED IN ME.
I typed PIX PLEASE and hit send and was interrupted by Bartlett who’d suddenly come halfway across the room toward me. “Do you understand, Detective Cooper?”
“Yes.” I said, having no clue what I was supposed to understand. I felt like I was back in Sister Mary Ellen’s class in third grade at Holy Rosary in the Bronx. At least Bartlett wasn’t wielding a ruler to hit me with. Instead, he was glaring at me, like a poodle demanding a snack. Apparently, he wasn’t convinced I understood. For once he was right. I slid my phone back into the pocket.
