Keeping the Peace (25 page)

John shot her a thoroughly exasperated look over his shoulder.

They all waited impatiently until they heard the outer door of the big town office building open. They heard the footsteps come down the hall, and the door to their small cluster of rooms opened.

Mia was the first one through the door, Cully on her heels. She was bundled against the cold in a black goose-down parka. She wore a turquoise neck warmer, but her head was bare, and her blond hair was windblown and unruly. Her face was like a little thundercloud, blushing pink. “Daddy!” she demanded, swiping the hair from across her eyes, “I…”

He was ready for her. John could count on one hand the times he had spoken harshly to his daughter, but he spoke harshly now, cutting her off in mid-sentence. “Mia, go in my office, close the door behind you, and sit down.” Her mouth opened, but if she meant to protest, he didn’t give her the chance. “Not a single word from you! Do as I say. Do it now.”

Mia clamped her lips together and stalked through the small knot of policemen, disappearing into her father’s office.

“And don’t slam the door!”

The door closed quietly. John turned to Becky and his men.

“Now, everybody pull up something to sit on, and let’s get some action going here.”

There was a scraping and clunking as the three officers pulled up various chairs. Becky sat behind her desk, and John remained standing.

He cleared his throat and said, “We have to close this one fast. Strand is determined to do that show on Saturday night, and there’s no way we can stop him. It’s his choice. My guess is that his hired security is worthless. We can suggest to Hanover police that they provide more security, but my inkling is they won’t be very thrilled with the idea. We’ve got the state cops watching the interstates, and I called the neighbors so they’ll have their men on alert too. I don’t think the man’s gone far. He’s been staying with his grandfather up in the hills, and I think he thinks no one can find him there. He’s probably made it a base of operations until he gets the deed done. That is, presuming he’s the guilty party.”

“Who else would it be, Chief?” Cully spoke up. “It seems pretty cut and dried to me. At least it’s all we got.”

“That’s just it, Cully. We’ve got another suspect.”

The three young officers exchanged surprised looks.

Becky said, “What’s up, Chief?”

John shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s this electronic age. Just now, when I was up at the house, Strand tells me he’s been getting threatening e-mails from some psychotic fan. And apparently the same person has been posting comments on these blogs or whatever they’re called.”

“Message boards?” Cully asked.

“Yeah, that’s it,” John confirmed.

“How’d you know that, Cully?” asked Jason.

“I keep up.” Cully gave a self-important shrug.

“Well, good for you,” Becky said sarcastically.

“At any rate,” John said, bringing his troops back to order, “as far as we know, it’s a girl named Kayla. Somebody Strand picked up after a concert who didn’t take it too well when he dumped her. My guess is it’s the same girl who slipped you the note. He claims she attacked a girl he was with at another party, so according to him, she’s capable of violent behavior.”

“Where do these people come from?” Becky snorted. “Why are there so many of them?”

“How do we track this one down?” Steve asked.

“Well…” John sighed. “That’s a problem. We don’t know anything about her, where she lives, or where she is. We can apparently track her via the e-mail, but of course that will only give us the registered account she e-mailed from. It’s better than nothing. Becky, you better call State Police and see whether they have any venue for accomplishing this.”

Steve spoke up again. “I think we can do that ourselves from here, Chief. It might be quicker. At least we could get the name on the account and then go from there. If the server won’t give us the name, then we have to go through the courts for a subpoena. We might as well try first.”

“Hmm,” John mused. “How long is that going to take, though? I wanted you all on the road today tracking Seeley.” Jason was usually the person John set on any computer-related task, but he was also a valuable man on the street. “We’ll have to call FBI in Burlington.”

“Hey,” Jason said, seeing his chief staring at him. “Is Mike still home? He’s a computer whiz. He can do that. I know he can. Whenever I have a technical question, I call Mike first. He can usually talk me through it.”

John nodded in relief. “Good idea, Jason. I’ll get him on it.” Now he needed to hand out the assignments and send his troops into the field. “I want everyone on the streets. Jason, you start down by the diner and go out into that neighborhood. We’ve got the car, make and model, and license plate. Becky’s going to print you all out a sheet with the information on it, so there’s no mistakes. I guess he could have changed plates, so keep an eye on any vehicles of same make and model, regardless of their plates. Steve, you can take the north side of town and watch those areas around my house, just in case. Cully, you go east toward Springfield. Check the stores, restaurants, and gas stations. I’m going to stay in the middle of town, talk to people, see whether I can raise some kind of clue as to this guy’s whereabouts.”

“What about the fangirl?” Tim Cully asked.

Johns shook his head, frustrated by his limited skills in the area of computer technology. “I don’t know what to do about that right now. I’ll call Mike when we get done here, see whether or not he can track down the computer and how fast he can do it if it’s possible. Can we identify a specific computer, Steve?”

“Yes, you can, as long as the provider will give out that specific information. Then, it’s a fast job. Otherwise, it’s a subpoena.”

“Hmm.” John rubbed his face. “Well, get going, guys. Stay in touch, either with me or Becky.”

Becky stepped forward. “Here, don’t forget your information sheets. This has everything on the case we’ve got so far and what to look for. I’ll be here all day.”

Steve spoke up as he took the paper from Becky. “Do you think the guy knows we’re looking for him yet, Chief?”

John shrugged as he opened the door to his office. “I don’t know. I hope not. It’ll greatly improve our chances. See you later.” They filed out, but as Cully put his hand on the doorknob, John said, “Cully, I want to talk to you a minute.”

Becky stood up behind her desk. “I’m going down the hall to the clerk’s office for a minute, John,” she said, and she made a judicious exit.

He tried not to raise his voice as he addressed the young officer who stood, looking at the floor.

“Cully, are you crazy?” He leaned over Becky’s desk on his clenched fists.

“Are you talking about giving Mia a ride?”

“Yes, I’m talking about giving Mia a ride. Since when is babysitting one of your concerns? You were on duty, Cully.”

“Sorry, sir, but I—”

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. I’m sure there’s a million of them. And I’m going to hear plenty when I go in my office. Cully, you’ve got to pay attention. Learn about teenage girls. One of these days, you’re going to turn around and have one of your own.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Well, if anything like this happens again, just call me. Or call her mother. Now please, go do your job.”

John turned and went into his office, shutting the door behind him. He did not speak to Mia at first. Instead, he slipped behind his desk and sat down. Mia stared at the floor with knitted brow. John almost smiled, but he was still truly irritated, so he kept his face stern while he thought about what to say. Finally, he sighed and said, “What’s going on, Mouse?”

“I just needed a ride, Daddy, and Michael wouldn’t give me one. He said to wait until Mom and Gabriel were ready to go to Mom’s office and he’d give everybody a ride in.”

“I’m surprised you wanted to leave with Gabriel Strand in the house.”

The girl made a sound through her nose. “Oh, he’s totally smitten with Mom. It’s ‘Melanie this’ and ‘Melanie that.’ You should say something to him, Dad. She’s your wife.”

John said sharply, “Don’t change the subject. You can’t call a police officer in to give you a ride, Mia.” It was amazing how children always knew the buttons to push.

“It’s just Cully. He was probably just eating lunch.” Her tone was defiant, but she didn’t look up from the floor.

“I don’t care if he was picking his nose by the side of the road. He was on duty, and when he’s on duty, he’s mine. Is that understood?”

“I guess.”

“No ‘I guess’ about it, Mia. I had to ream Cully out, too, and I hate doing that. You’re not the only person affected by something like this. Why couldn’t you just wait for Mike?”

“I told Ethan I’d be at his house by two o’clock, and I was already late. I’ll be lucky if he talks to me again.”

“Ethan Adams?”

“Yes. He called at, like, ten o’clock, and now it’s almost three.”

John sat still. Ethan Adams was Mia’s new boyfriend. He didn’t particularly like him. The boy was too polite and too squeaky clean, like the boys who used to follow Melanie home from college. John said irritably, “He’ll be lucky if you talk to him again. Why didn’t Ethan come and get you?”

“His mother took the car.”

Things happen for a reason, John reflected. Two teenagers stranded apart were infinitely preferable to two teenagers stranded together. He sighed. “Well, look, Mouse,” he said, capitulating, “you can come with me. I’m out on the street myself this afternoon. I’ll give you a ride to Ethan’s and then swing back through town.”

Mia’s face lit up. “Thanks, Dad,” she said. “Oh, there goes my phone.” She reached into the pocket of her parka for the device. She glanced at it and said, “It’s Ethan.”

John stood up and went out to speak to Becky.

“You just wait, Becky,” he said. “Your kids are still pretty young. What are they?”

“Twelve and fourteen.”

“Ah. Well, it’s going to start pretty soon.”

“I don’t have any girls, though.”

“Well, I can loan you one,” he said sarcastically.

The phone rang, and Becky picked it up. “Clark’s Corner Police.” She listened for a moment. “Just a minute, Mike. I’ll put him on.” She handed the phone to John. “It’s your son.”

“Mike?”

“We just dropped Mom and Gabe at Mom’s office,” said Mike. “It says on my cell phone that you called me.”

“Becky called, I think. I need you to stop here and do some computer work for me.”

“It’s almost three, Dad. I was going to drop Peter off at your office and get back to school before dark.”

Everything was always on their terms, thought John, exasperated. He spoke carefully into the phone, tempering his voice. “Since when have you been afraid to drive after dark? Mike, I need you for police business. You don’t have any classes tonight.”

“No, but—”

“You can get up early in the morning and get there in forty-five minutes,” said John. “I need you to find me some information regarding this Gabriel Strand case.”

“Dad!”

“Michael…” John decided to go for the bribe. Parenting books forbade the approach, but time and again, he had found it useful. “I’ll pay you.”

“Dad!”

“It’s your civic duty. You’re the one always pontificating about politics. Well, here’s something for your resume.”

“I’ll be there,” his son answered in a sulky voice. Then, as an afterthought—or a threat, John could not be sure which—he added, “I’ve got Peter with me.”

“Bring him, then. I don’t care.”

“He doesn’t want to come.”

“Both of you get in here now.” He slammed down the phone and turned to Becky, who was stuffing some papers into the engorged file cabinet. “What the hell is going on with these kids? Is everything about them? Can’t they contribute anything out of altruism?”

Becky outright laughed. “Didn’t you just ask me a while ago to remember that night you and Melanie eloped? I guess you were thinking a lot about how her parents, and yours, too, would feel. I guess you were thinking about where you would live and how you would manage to eat. You didn’t even have a car. I had to drive.”

John gave a little smile. “Touché,” he said. “I can tell you this, though. I wasn’t thinking about even one kid at the time, let alone three of them in my hair!”

“You got good kids, John. All kids are a pain in the neck from time to time.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They heard the huge outside door creaking open, followed by footsteps down the hall. They heard Irene, the town clerk, greeting the boys. Then the door of the police station opened. The brothers walked in, Michael first, Peter just behind and to the left of him. It was their unconscious formation whenever they were together. It was the way they worked, in tandem. Michael in front, making the decisions where to go, whom to talk to when they got there. Peter was the enforcer, who despite and contrary to everything he might say, was there to back up his brother. Peter was scowling. Michael’s face was impassive.

“Hi, boys,” said Becky.

“Hi,” they both answered.