Deadly Places: A Mapleton Mystery Novella (3 page)

Ed reported himself clear to Dispatch and told them to put out a lookout order for a bear. Just what he needed. A nuisance bear in Mapleton. He hoped this was a one-time occurrence, because the best-case scenario would be relocating the bear. If it came back, it would have to be put down, and the animal lovers would be all over the story.

He finished his route, went to the station and checked in with Laurie, who reported all was peaceful. He opened his email and found a form from
Paula’s Places
in his deadbeat dads account.

To be added to our list, we need your response within 72 hours
, it said.

His department account had the message Colfax had sent to the geeks, but no reply yet. He left Colfax out of it, calling County and asking for Sam Fischer, the geek Colfax had singled out to help.

“IT. Fischer.”

A woman’s voice? “Sam Fischer?” Ed asked.

“Samantha,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

Ed introduced himself. “Touching base regarding the email from Detective Colfax. Have you had a chance to look into it?”

“Right. Ed Solomon. You’re the Deadbeat Dad cop. It’s on my list.”

“I’ve got a huge favor.” Ed explained his deadline. “Any chance you can squeeze me in before my time runs out?”

“Can’t say without reading the message. I’ll get back to you.”

“Let me send you the new form.” Ed forwarded the message to her. “I’m worried about the section where it’s asking for notable citizens of the town. I have a hunch they don’t mean community VIPs.”

“You think that’s where you supply the name of your intended victim.”

Gratified Sam seemed up to speed on the case, Ed agreed. “The bigger issue is what to put in the
how did you find the blog
field. I’m still betting that’s the code that gets you into the next circle.”

“Got it. I’ll try to have something for you by tomorrow afternoon.”

He couldn’t ask for more—not with a clear conscience, anyway. Another email from Colfax, copying Ed on his query to a Detective Rosen in Shaker Heights. Since this was lower on Ed’s priority list, he simply sent off an email introducing himself to the detective and expanding on what Colfax had said.

A number of these deaths appear to be accidents, but upon further investigation, have been homicides. All I could access was the Cardona obituary in the paper, so any additional information about cause and manner of death you’re able to share would be appreciated.

After hitting
Send
, Ed let Laurie know he was leaving. “I’ll be back for change of shift to talk to the night crew. If anything hits the fan before you go home, call me.”

“Will do, Acting Chief.”

Ed shot Laurie a look, then called his wife to say he’d fetch the kids and dinner. He headed toward the middle school field where his boys were at their Pop Warner football practice. On the way, he called Finnegan’s and ordered a pizza to go, then waited in the school parking lot until practice broke up. Twelve-year-old Jeremy broke into a wide grin when he spotted him, and raced to the car. His fourteen-year-old brother, Mitch, followed at a more sedate pace. Ed unlocked the back door and his sons tossed their practice bags onto the floor and clambered in behind them.

“The Chief car. Cool. Can you run code three?” Jeremy asked. “Lights and sirens?”

“In your dreams, kiddo. And buckle up.”

By the time they got to Finnegan’s, the pizza—with everything on it, plus double cheese—was waiting. When Mick Finnegan refused to take Ed’s money despite all the years of protesting that it wasn’t appropriate, Mick, as always, insisted the tab had been picked up by some of his patrons. Ed gave a general wave of thanks and, as always, left the price of the pizza in the tip jar.

At home, Buster, his German shepherd and part-time Mapleton K-9 greeted him with a look that said
Are we going to work?
Ed scratched the dog behind his ears. “Not tonight, fella.”

The boys raced upstairs to shower, both clamoring dibs on the first turn. Ed’s wife, Mary Ellen, was in the kitchen tossing a salad. “Oven’s preheated. Wine’s open.”

“Later.” Ed shoved the pizza into the oven to keep it warm. “I’m going back to the station after dinner. I need to check in with third shift.”

“Something wrong?” Mary Ellen frowned. “I thought by now you’d have a handle on how everything runs. They don’t need you checking on them.”

“It’s more of a followup to last night’s reports. I need to talk to a few of the guys, and face-to-face is better. I promise I won’t be late.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought we were past that. You’ll
try
not to be late, but then something will come up and you won’t be able to let it go. You’ll end up in the middle of another mess. And the outcome might not be as good.” She fisted her hands at her hips. “Damn it, Ed, you might have been killed.”

Ed had put what had happened when he’d gone with Colfax to investigate a possible connection to the Deadbeat Dad Killer behind him. Mary Ellen clearly hadn’t. He reached for her hand. “That was a fluke, and it didn’t happen in Mapleton. It’s over.”

“I thought that as Chief, even a temporary one, you’d be able to keep normal hours. Stay at the station, out of harm’s way. But I think I’ve seen less of you than when you were a regular cop. I don’t understand why you don’t tell the mayor to get someone else to cover for Gordon.”

“We’ve been through this. Mayor McKenna made it clear that if I didn’t accept the position, I would no longer be a cop in Mapleton. Period. And I like my work. At least the way it was.”

“And what if Gordon doesn’t want to come back?” she asked, pushing the issue. “Have you considered that?”

He had, but refused to believe Gordon would abandon Mapleton. Footfalls on the stairs signaled the approach of one of the boys. Ed got the milk from the fridge and cocked his head toward the doorway.

Mary Ellen swapped her frown for a cheerful smile as Mitch entered the kitchen. “How was school?” she asked.

A shrug. “Okay. Got an A-minus on my math test.” Mitch poured himself a glass of milk.

“Way to go,” Ed said.

Jeremy, hair still dripping from his shower, whooshed into the kitchen and plonked himself into his chair. “I’m starved.”

Mary Ellen portioned out the salad while Ed retrieved the pizza. Dinner conversation, per family convention, skirted Ed’s job and focused on the kids, although Ed did mention the bear at Miss Menard’s house.

“Cool,” Jeremy said. “You think it’ll come here?”

“I hope not,” Mary Ellen said. “That’s why we bring the bird feeder in every night. Bears can do a lot of damage.”

“Still be cool to see one up close,” Jeremy muttered.

“Maybe we’ll go to the zoo this weekend.” Mary Ellen glared at Ed.

“Zoos are boring.” Mitch put his plate in the dishwasher and opened the fridge. “What’s for dessert?”

“Cobbler,” Mary Ellen said. “But not until everyone’s finished. You can feed Buster.”

“Hang on a sec,” Ed said. “You boys planning on the Trick or Treat Parade this year?”

Jeremy’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve got a cool idea for a costume.”

“And how much is this
cool idea
going to cost me? And how much time will it take?” Mary Ellen asked, a twinkle in her eye. “I don’t seem to recall anyone
asking
whether or not it can be done.”

“No problem, Mom. Kirk, Ramon, and me—I—we—are going to do it together. If my allowance doesn’t cover what we need, I’ll do extra chores. But it’s a surprise.”

“I’m too old for that stuff,” Mitch said, shooting his brother an arrogant sneer.

“Yeah, but don’t expect me to share
my
candy,” Jeremy shot back.

Ed intervened before the discussion escalated. “You’re both old enough to make your own decisions. Mitch, while Jeremy’s collecting candy, how’d you like to help at the station stop on the parade route? I’ll have Buster, and you can give out candy.”

Although he was a working dog, Buster wasn’t trained to attack, and fit in well with the family. His nose, not his teeth, were the tools he used when on duty, and he understood the difference between working and socializing, which made him an asset for public relations. Everyone loved a dog.

“I suppose. Do I get to wear a badge?” Mitch asked.

Ed chortled. “No, but I’ll see what I can do about a cap. Now, go feed Buster.”

Mitch shuffled toward the garage for the dog food.

Once dinner was finished—Ed having made a point of doing all the cleanup—the boys went upstairs to deal with their homework.

Mary Ellen sat at the table sipping a glass of wine. “You going to tell me what that was about? Mitch helping at the station instead of trick-or-treating? Aren’t we supposed to make these decisions together?”

“I didn’t see an issue. He’ll be supervised, and it’ll give him something positive to do, since he says he’s too old for collecting candy.”

“That’s not the point.” Mary Ellen spun away, taking her wine to the den. The volume level on the television advertised her displeasure.

Ed washed the salad bowl and set it in the draining rack. Without consciously thinking about it, he checked the level of wine in the bottle. Seemed like this wasn’t the bottle they’d opened the other night, which, as Ed recalled, was still half-full when he’d recorked it.

He rubbed the back of his neck. If he’d missed any signs Mary Ellen was more upset about his work than she’d let on, he’d better start paying attention now. Joining her on the couch, he said, “How about I make reservations at the Black Bear Chalet for Saturday night. I promise, unless all hell breaks loose, I’ll take the whole weekend off.”

She seemed to mellow a bit. Was it his offer or the wine? Damn, now he’d be second guessing everything she said or did. Not healthy.

Mary Ellen tilted her head. “Maybe. Define ‘all hell’.”

“Terrorists. Drug cartels. Russian Mafia. Something along those lines,” he said. He took her wine glass and set it on the coffee table. Leaned in and nuzzled her neck. Whispered in her ear. “I’ll wear a tie.”

She burst out laughing. “Well, that clinches it. Make the reservation.”

The laugh unraveled the knot in his belly. He left her with a kiss, one that promised more. “I’ll be back by nine.”

Ed caught Lloyd Titchener in the workroom. The steaming coffee mug on Titch’s desk indicated he’d been to the breakroom, but Ed couldn’t remember ever seeing the man there. Once Titch stepped into the station, he was a cop machine. Ed swore the man spit-shined his bare scalp. He held up a palm before Titch could spring to attention.

Half an hour before change of shift, the workroom was still empty, so Ed pulled a chair alongside Titch’s desk. “I’m touching base. From last night’s reports, it appears things have been quiet.”

“Yes, Chief.”

“I did have a question about the message you left on Laurie’s desk. The one in the red folder.”

Titch squared his shoulders. “Chief?”

“Since your note was on the envelope, not the folder, am I correct in assuming you found the envelope, added the note, then put it in the red folder?”

“Yes, Chief.”

Someday, Ed would be able to carry on a conversation with Titch, but the taciturn ex-military officer had become even more formal since Ed had moved into his new position. At least before, Titch had called him Solomon.

“Did you see who put it on your desk?” Ed asked, although knowing Titch, the note would have said so.

“No, Chief. Since it had your name on it, I put it in a red folder, in case it was important. Per protocol.”

“Did you notice anyone here who wasn’t on duty? Someone from another shift, or someone Irv might have buzzed through?”

“No, Chief. At the time in question, I was out on a call, backing up Officer Gaubatz. If you have questions, the log will verify it. When I returned, the envelope was on my desk.”

“Relax, Titch. I’m curious, that’s all. I know you’re doing your job, and I don’t expect you to be chained to this desk for your entire shift. Your presence on the streets is just as important.”

“Thank you, Chief.”

“What about Deputy Baker? He might not remember the policy.”

Titch thought about it for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I was here before he returned from his rounds. Of course, it’s possible I’d stepped away briefly. I couldn’t have been gone more than a minute or two.”

Did Ed detect a faint reddening at Titch’s neck? “You know, you
are
allowed to get coffee. Use the men’s room. Stretch your legs.”

The flush spread to Titch’s face. He stared over Ed’s shoulder. “Yes, Chief. And I will be sure to reinforce departmental policy on messages for staff with Deputy Baker. Since you’re here, did you wish to address the troops at roll call?”

Although Ed knew Vicky McDermott would go over everything with Titch before change of shift, he decided it made sense to repeat what he’d said at second shift, to make his presence felt. “Very briefly.” He explained about the overtime he was offering to anyone willing to put in some time at the parade. “I don’t want to pull anyone from the streets. The trick-or-treating should be almost over before third shift, but having the unit parked out front with an officer or two hanging around should be good PR.”

“I agree, Chief.”

Ed wanted to shout
Stop calling me Chief
, but it was a lost cause. “As you were,” he said instead.

He leafed through the folders and messages on Laurie’s desk to see what had come in after he’d gone home. Nothing of significance, so he left them there and headed to reception. Irv sat at the desk, reading a paperback. “Evening, Irv.”

The man jerked upright. “Hey, Chief Solomon. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Guess our shifts don’t overlap too often now. I have a question about last night. Did anyone come to your desk?”

The man’s brow furrowed, adding more wrinkles to his already wizened face. “No, not that I can recollect. Let me check the log.” Irv grabbed a clipboard, ran his finger down the list of names, then shook his head. “Nope. All quiet on that end. A few phone calls, all routine.”

“If someone comes in and says they have a message for me, what’s the policy?”

Irv didn’t hesitate. “I let them fill out a form and put it on Laurie’s desk.”

“And if it’s already written? A note in an envelope addressed to me?”

“Same thing.”

“And what if they say it’s urgent they speak to someone?”

Irv tapped the clipboard. “They give me the short version, then I call one of the guys on duty out here to talk to them. Then I make sure it’s in the log.”

“Thanks, Irv. Keep it up.” Ed turned to go.

Irv called after him. “Wait. Was that a test? Did I do something wrong?”

Ed smiled. “No, it wasn’t a test. More of a clarification for me. I want to be up-to-speed on how things work.”

“Fair enough. You have any more questions, you come to me. Always happy to answer.”

“Have a good night, Irv.” Ed went to his office to check his email, promising himself it was only to see whether Detective Rosen had responded. Mary Ellen had a valid point. He’d been trying too hard to keep on top of his former duties as well as be the perfect Chief, when all he needed to do was keep things running smoothly until Gordon got back.

The niggling thought Mary Ellen had planted, that perhaps Gordon wasn’t planning to return, meandered through Ed’s brain. He dismissed it, just as he had avoided the topic when she’d raised it before. Maybe they could discuss it over dinner at the Black Bear.

He scanned the list of messages, forcing himself to ignore anything that wasn’t from Colfax, Sam Fischer, or Detective Rosen. Since there was nothing from any of them, he shut off the computer. Tomorrow would be soon enough for the rest.

Sounds from outside his office told him it was almost change of shift. McDermott and Titch would be going over anything pertinent, and he refrained from joining them. He made the reservations at the Black Bear Chalet, and thought about Mary Ellen waiting at home.