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“Think what you want, but I’m no murderer.”
Eric walked to the cell door. “I guess that’s good news for me then.”
The gleam of sweat on Willy’s face turned to plump, shiny beads, and the rings under his arms spread. He sat on the bunk unmoving.
Eric looked back at the forlorn looking cop. “You, uh, want to open the cage and let me out of here?”
Willy plodded to the door and reached through the bars to get the key into the ancient lock. It clanked against it several times before he could maneuver it into the keyhole. Swinging the iron door wide Eric stepped through and wandered into a space with desks, bulletin board, file cabinets, and coffee maker. It wasn’t much of a police station.I’ve been locked up in better places than this.
Willy motioned for a young officer clicking away at a computer keyboard to take his lunch break. Eric followed the young cop’s departure with his eyes. “Weren’t any of your guys suspicious? Didn’t any of them wonder about me?”
Willy lumbered over to his desk. “They have pensions, benefits, and the most work they ever do is ticket speeders. They aren’t exactly fucking F.B.I. material.”
“Just fucking, lazy small-town cops.”
Willy didn’t argue the point. “So now what?”
“Nowyou’re going to give me the keys to my truck. But first you’re going to answer a few questions.”
****
There were easily a dozen avenues of legal action Eric could pursue against Cromline’s chief of police, but he chose not to. He didn’t need the attention, and certainly didn’t want to bring any Jenna’s way. But the vise grip he had on Willy Parks was by far more of a squeeze than the one Baldwin had.
Willy readily gave his allegiance to Eric and supplied him with the names of his attackers and a promise to have a squad car standing guard at Ina’s.
“Not one blade of grass gets cut,” he ordered.
Looking like a big stupid dog who had just eaten his umpteenth slipper, the chief nodded.
Eric slowly shook his head as he summed up his jailer’s life. Parks was a winning catch in high school who’d never considered straying from the parameters of his glory days. Eric knew the type. “What’s Baldwin got on you anyway?”
“Enough for my wife to throw my ass out of the house. He has something on just about everybody around here.”
“Well, he won’t be using his clout for much longer.” Eric reached for the phone on Willy’s desk. His first call was to Jenna, but there was no answer.
“Probably out getting her hair done or something. Big shebang at the Lakeside Manor tonight,” Willy volunteered.
A grumble juddered low in Eric’s throat. “Is she going with Baldwin?”
“I…I think so. He’ll wine and dine her till he gets her in bed.”
Eric flashed Parks with the heat of the sun. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you? Do yourself a favor and think before you speak.”
He stabbed at numbers on the phone, and dialed Nick’s cell. He held the receiver away, as a booming voice resounded from the earpiece.
“Are you done?” Eric asked after the noise subsided.
“Hell no! Jenna called a couple of days ago and said you were gone. I didn’t want her to worry so I told her you went somewhere to think. When I couldn’t find you anywhere, I flew back to New York. I’m in your fancy suite at the Plaza. Where the hell are you?”
“Some place I haven’t been in a long time.”
There was a beat of silence before Eric could hear a growl peppered with a dark laugh.
“Son of a bitch…You’re in jail, aren’t you?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Larry Belka parked his rental car on a side street off the main drag in Cromline. He wore a Polo shirt, khaki trousers, baseball cap, and sunglasses. He looked as generic and unremarkable as anyone walking along the avenue. In his pocket he fiddled with a small camera. He stepped slowly, his head pivoting at numbers on storefronts. Slung over his shoulder was a mail-bag type tote, the kind men preferred to old fashioned briefcases. In it was a larger and better camera.
