As she stared at her cell, there was another blinding bolt of lightning, then the distinctive smell of smoke and the crunch of metal being smashed.
Justin, Frannie, and Skye rushed to the front door and peered outside. One of the enormous oak trees that lined the driveway was split down the middle, with the largest part lying across Frannie’s car.
“Guess we’re not leaving after all.” Justin sighed, then shrugged and asked, “Do you have anything for dessert?”
Chapter 2
“That is because you have no brains.”
—Dorothy
“Son of a bitch!” Chief of police Wally Boyd slammed down the telephone. It looked like he was working a double.
Zelda Martinez had been his last hope, and his call had gone directly to her voicemail. Zelda, as Scumble River’s youngest and only female officer, was usually eager to work a double shift, not only for the money but also for the experience.
When Tolman had called in sick at the last minute, Wally had known it was going to be tough to find coverage for him, but he hadn’t counted on the storm’s interference. The Scumble River Police Department had only six full-time officers, including Wally, so it just took one case of the flu or someone on vacation to create a staffing problem.
With two guys stuck on the wrong side of a flooded underpass, two others not answering their phones, and the part-timers, who were supposed to fill in the gaps, unavailable due to their other jobs, Wally was out of options. And as usual, to solve the problem of being short-staffed, he would have to sacrifice time with Skye. He had to figure out a way to employ additional officers before the baby came, because he wasn’t going to be an absentee father.
Wally walked over to the dartboard on the back of his door and flipped it over, then returned to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a handful of darts. Taking careful aim, he released the projectile and watched in satisfaction as it landed smack-dab in the middle of the mayor’s forehead.
The police department needed more personnel, but the city council had frozen hiring for all local government services. Although Wally had been begging for an exemption for the PD, with Mayor Dante Leofanti behind the moratorium, he knew he didn’t have a chance at getting the council to allow him to take on another couple of officers.
Hizzoner was throwing a tantrum because his plot to outsource the town’s law-enforcement services to the county sheriff’s department had been thwarted. He had wanted to use the money saved on police salaries to finance building a mega incinerator on the edge of town so he could charge other communities to burn their trash and funnel the money into his mayoral salary. But once his plans became public, Scumble Riverites had protested, and Dante had been forced to give up his scheme. Which meant the police department would be the last city service the mayor would excuse from the freeze.
Although Dante was Skye’s uncle, her mother’s brother, their relationship hadn’t ever been particularly cordial. It had deteriorated even further when Skye and Wally had exposed the mayor’s incinerator plans. And because Hizzoner held on to his grudges like a tick stuck to a hound dog, there would be no more money for the PD until he was booted from office.
However, in order for that to happen, someone needed to run against him. Currently, he was running unopposed in the November election, leaving only a little over two months for a write-in candidate to appear.
Hell! Wally threw another dart. This one landed on the mayor’s beaky nose. The police department hadn’t even been allowed to replace the idiot who had been fired for dealing drugs. Hizzoner had brushed off Wally’s reasoning that replacing an officer wasn’t the same as a new hire, all the while insisting that the budget didn’t have room for another salary.
Wally had hoped the city council members would override the mayor, but they were all either in his back pocket or afraid of his wrath. Even Zeke Lyons, the newest council member and the only one who wasn’t one of Dante’s old cronies, was too much of a milquetoast to speak up.
When Zeke had been appointed to fill in the vacancy created after Ratty Milind had a stroke while he was screwing his little side dish in the Dollar or Three store’s parking lot, Wally had hoped Zeke would change the way the council did business. From what everyone had said about Zeke, he had seemed like a stand-up guy who would put the town’s interest before his own. But so far, Zeke hadn’t even opened his mouth at any of the council meetings.
Which just proved what Wally’s father, Carson, always said—politicians and babies have one thing in common: they both need to be changed regularly and for the same reason. Of course, Carson Boyd was sarcastic—so sarcastic that his targets weren’t sure if he was joking or a whack job.
Blowing out an exasperated breath, Wally threw the remaining darts, then removed them from the board and flipped it back over. It wouldn’t do for the mayor to come visit and see his own face, impaled by the sharp projectiles, staring back at him.
Checking that he had his portable radio and flashlight, Wally turned off the lights in his office, stepped into the hallway, and locked the door behind him. If he couldn’t find anyone to cover the afternoon shift, he’d better get his ass out on patrol.
As he ran down the stairs, Wally grabbed his cell from his shirt pocket and dialed Skye to tell her he wouldn’t be home until midnight. His wife wouldn’t be happy, but he knew she wouldn’t complain. She was employed by the department as a part-time psych consultant and understood the demands of the job.
When his call didn’t go through and there were only clicks and pops, then a strange buzzing on the landline, he stopped his descent and tried Skye’s cell. That number went to voicemail after the first ring.
Since Skye had gotten pregnant, she’d faithfully kept her phone turned on and charged up. Maybe she was in a dead zone. Their house was full of mysterious spots where their cells didn’t work.
Frowning, Wally left a message and headed toward the attached garage. A few steps from the exit, he turned and hurried to the front of the station instead. His mother-in-law, May Denison, was the afternoon dispatcher. She could keep trying to reach Skye while he was out on patrol.
When Wally walked into the dispatch area, he stopped to stare out of the rain-streaked window. His office was windowless and he was momentarily stunned by the intensity of the howling wind and flashing lightning. He’d been following the weather alerts for the past couple of hours, but clearly the storm was growing worse than had been predicted.
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About the Author
© David Stybr
Denise Swanson is the New York Times bestselling author of the Scumble River mysteries, the Devereaux’s Dime Store mysteries, and the Chef-to-Go mysteries, as well as the Change of Heart and Delicious Love contemporary romances. She has been nominated for RT Magazine’s Career Achievement Award, the Agatha Award, and the Mary Higgins Clark Award.
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Body Over Troubled Waters Page 27