“Mike, I’ll give you the pink copy. Supply doesn’t have to send it up to you.”
“No, no, see, you have to send them both, then they tear off their white copy and send me the pink.”
I tried to stay calm and rational. “Does it really matter who tears off the pink copy?”
He looked at me, then started laughing. “You don’t deal well with bureaucracy, do you, Harv? I’ll have to jot that down on your next evaluation.”
He tore off the yellow copy and gave it to me, then ripped off the pink copy and dropped it in his wastebasket. He took the white sheet into the next room and said, “Judith, would you please get this right down to Supply? And tell them I have my copy. Thank you.”
When he came back, he spread his hands. “You see? You just do it. The masses understand that. That’s why we have procedure. Do it their way and you’ll eventually get a desk, and no one complains.”
“Eventually. What does poor Jimmy do in the meantime?”
“Just improvise, Captain. Let him work at the table in the interview room.”
I shrugged. “Okay. Now, let me update you on the art case. The blood from the doctor’s office break-in was Hubble’s.”
“Good. He’ll stay behind bars for a long time.”
“Right. Him and Eric Stanley.”
“What about Daniels?”
“They’re indicting him here for theft and accepting stolen merchandise. Then he goes back to Massachusetts for more of the same and an assault charge. Maybe a drug charge, too.”
“Good. I hope it’s a comfort to Jennifer.”
“Well, she doesn’t know about the assault thing. I figured she’s been through enough. Lexington P.D. will handle it down there.”
“Well, speaking of your wife,” Mike said in a more portentous tone, “we’re buying six copies of Jennifer’s program from that fellow who bought the rights. What’s the new company?” He picked up a piece of paper from his in box.
“Macomber Software. I’ll tell Jenny. She’ll be pleased. Who gets it?”
“Me, Eddie, Nate Miller, Joey Bolduc, Cheryl Yeaton, and Emily Rood.”
“What about Tony? You’re giving it to everyone else who took the advanced computer training. Why not Tony?”
“Does Winfield have a desk?”
“Yes, Clyde’s. I put him there so he’d be close to Arnie.”
“All right, seven copies. I wouldn’t want to waste the city’s money by ordering software for a cop who had no desk and no computer.”
“That’s right, Jimmy needs a computer, too.”
Mike opened his desk drawer and pulled out another requisition form.
I said, “Maybe he can just buddy up with Nate for six weeks, until Arnie’s computer is free. But he definitely needs a desk.”
Mike put the form away and closed the drawer.
“Now I have a really important question,” I said.
“What’s that?” Mike went to the table where he kept coffee going all the time and poured two cups.
“What happens when Clyde comes back?”
He turned to face me and held out a white mug with the Marine Corps emblem on it. “Sit, Harv.”
I sat. “So?”
“Drink.”
I drank, and then I raised my eyebrows at him. I wasn’t going to let him dodge the question.
“Clyde’s not coming back,” he said.
“Never?” I set the mug down.
“I spoke to his physician this morning, and with Deborah.” Mike sat down behind his desk. “Clyde had another coronary last night. Massive. He’s very bad, Harvey. If he makes it, he’ll be granted early retirement.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry to hear that. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.”
Mike nodded soberly.
*****
I skipped lunch and met Jennifer at Margaret Turner’s office. A nurse weighed Jennifer and took her blood pressure. Margaret came in, reading the chart on a clipboard.
“Great. You gained a pound this month. Fantastic. Let’s try for two the next time. Blood pressure’s good. How do you feel? Morning sickness all gone?”
Jennifer grinned. “I haven’t even thought about it for the past week or two.”
“That’s good news. So keep eating. How’s Harvey doing?” She looked at me.
I spread my hands. “I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you just run down the hall to see Carl?” Margaret said. “He was concerned about you after we heard your house was broken into.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it. Margaret was not a person to argue with lightly. I went, and Carl switched off the machine he was dictating to and jumped up when he saw me.
“Harvey, how you doing?”
“Great.” I shook his hand. “Margaret seems to think you need to eyeball me.”
“You didn’t get hurt in that shoot-out?”
“No, but you should see the other guy. Ooh, boy, that was sick. Forget I said it.”
“Sit down and let me take your b.p.” He reached for a blood pressure cuff. “So tell me, what on earth happened? Were you asleep?”
“Yeah, we both were. They just jimmied the front door and walked in.”
“One-seventeen over ninety. Not too bad. You shot one guy?”
“He started it.”
“I’m sure. How did Jennifer take it?”
We walked slowly down the hall toward where I’d left Jennifer, and I told him about the burglary. “You know those jerks had been in a doctor’s office the week before and stolen the art off his walls?” I asked.
“No joke? Margaret’s got some expensive framed posters in her exam rooms. They’re nice. Limited editions.”
“Are they insured?”
“I think so. Guess I’d better check on it.”
Margaret was setting Jennifer up for an ultrasound. “Just because,” she said to me, when I walked in. Jennifer was covered with rose-colored drapes top and bottom, with just her middle exposed. Carl stood in the doorway, his arms folded.
“Hey, Goldilocks,” he said to Jennifer.
“Don’t you have someone to cure?” she asked. She didn’t want some other man looking at her stomach.
“Let’s try that again,” said Carl. “Hello, Jennifer.”
“Hello, Carl. It’s nice to see you, but I’d rather see you when I’m fully clothed.”
“No problem. See you, Harv.” He drifted off down the hallway toward his office.
“That’s the way you have to handle him,” said Margaret. “Just give it to him straight.” She put slippery junk on Jennifer’s stomach and started moving the handpiece around. I still didn’t think Jennifer was any fatter, maybe just slightly less thin.
“Been feeling any movement yet?” Margaret asked.
Jennifer said hesitantly, “I thought I felt something this morning, but it was just little flutters.”
“He’ll be kicking the stuffing out of you soon enough,” she said. “There he is.”
I looked at the monitor. The baby was bigger, nearly twice as big as before, and his little arm flailed as I watched. I put my hand on Jennifer’s head and smoothed her hair. She grabbed my hand and watched the monitor, an eager light in her eyes.
“Now, Margaret, when you say ‘he,’ do you mean that in the generic sense?” I asked. “As in ‘mankind,’ or ‘each person must bring his own pencil?’”
“Yes, Harvey. It could be a she.”
“So, when can you tell?”
“Sometimes you can tell at this stage. It depends on the position of the baby, mostly. Sometimes you can’t tell until the delivery. Do you want to know, if we can tell?”
Jennifer said, “Yes, yes, of course he wants to know.”
I said, “Well, I don’t know about that.” I’d be ecstatic if I knew it was a boy, but how would I feel if I knew it was a girl? A little girl like Jennifer. Protective feelings welled up in me. Yes, I could be content knowing I was the father of a tiny baby girl. “Do you want to
know?” I asked her.
Jennifer said, “I think it would help us be ready for the little person we’re getting in April.” She squeezed my hand, and I laced my fingers through hers.
“Okay,” I said. “I want to know, too. If it’s a girl it will be … really nice.”
Jenny smiled. “But if it’s a boy…”
I shrugged and nodded a little, smiling. Her look was so tender. I bent down to kiss her.
Margaret said, “Oops. Uh, are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes,” we both said together.
“Okay, Mommy, Daddy, take a good look. It’s a boy.”
THE END
The Maine Justice Series Continues. . .
This book, Found Art, is Book 3 in the series.
In Book 1, The Priority Unit: On the worst night of Harvey Larson’s life, his partner is killed and his wife, Carrie, walks out on him. Ten years later, the Portland, Maine police detective has learned to cope with his grief and depression. When he and the Priority Unit investigate the disappearance of software designer Nick Dunham, he meets a young woman who will change his life. Jennifer Wainthrop was the last person to admit seeing Nick alive. Harvey’s partner, Eddie Thibodeau, narrowly escapes death. Harvey must stay a step ahead of a bomber and put together the clues that tell the truth: Dunham’s kidnapping and the bombings are one case, and Jennifer is caught in the middle. News that his ex-wife, Carrie, has committed suicide may plunge Harvey into despair. Will his new faith give him strength to save Jennifer from the same grim fate that claimed Nick?
Review by Sherry Legan at http://myjourneyback-thejourneyback.blogspot.com: The Priority Unit is a wonderful story and possibly one of the best approaches to introducing someone to a “real” relationship with Christ that I've ever seen/read. I enjoyed the characters. I enjoyed the plot. ... All the plots and subplots worked together for a suspenseful story with twists and turns and a happy ending!
In Book 2, Fort Point: One of Maine’s most famous authors is murdered the night after his class reunion, and soon a classmate turns up dead. What does a cold case burglary have to do with the murders? Harvey and his partner, Eddie, who are part of the elite police Priority Unit, must solve the crimes. Meanwhile, Harvey’s fiancée, Jennifer, discovers crucial evidence as she’s planning their wedding. The case is further complicated when the police chief has a tragic accident, and Mike is out of touch on a wilderness vacation. Harvey is forced to run the unit and solve the murders before the killer goes after the witnesses.
Watch for Heartbreaker Hero: Eddie’s Story (Book 4), and more books in this series!
In Heartbreaker Hero: Eddie’s Story: Do you love Eddie Thibodeau? So do half the women in Portland! A dead man is found in Chief Mike Browning’s back yard in a snowstorm, but he didn’t freeze to death. It’s up to the Priority Unit to find out what brought him there and protect the chief. Meanwhile, Eddie rescues a toddler, and an old girlfriend starts tabulating how many women have cried over him. Find out what happens when Eddie goes viral.
For a sneak peek at the fourth book, Heartbreaker Hero: Eddie’s Story, turn the page.
Excerpt from Heartbreaker Hero: Eddie’s Story
Harvey walked briskly into the kitchen.
“Ed, hold up. We’ve got an urgent case.”
“Now?” Eddie looked at Leeanne and back at Harvey. “We were leaving.”
“Sorry. This one’s critical.”
“On Christmas?” Leeanne asked.
“Yup.” Harvey paused to kiss Jennifer.
“Don’t they have someone on call for this?” she asked.
“We’re it.”
Eddie sighed and put down Leeanne’s suitcase.
Jennifer followed Harvey into the entry. “I’m staying, too,” she said.
“You can go with your folks,” Harvey told her.
“Nope. We’re not going that far from you.” She rubbed her stomach.
Crestfallen, Leeanne unzipped her jacket.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said.
Leeanne shrugged. “You can’t help it.”
“Got your gear?” Harvey asked Eddie.
“In my truck.”
“Good. You drive.”
Marilyn came bustling in with an overnight bag and a pillow. “I think that’s the last of it.”
Jennifer said, “Mom, Harvey and I can’t go. He and Eddie just got called in for an investigation.”
“Oh, no! How long will it take?”
Eddie tried to smile. “We never know with these things, Mrs. Wainthrop.” Harvey hadn’t even said what kind of case it was. Eddie figured it had to be a homicide, or the department wouldn’t sabotage their Christmas like that.
“Well, you come up with us, Jennifer. The guys can follow when they’re finished.”
“Mom, they probably won’t finish today. I’m staying, so I’ll be here when Harvey comes home.”
“But I wanted so much to get the whole family together for Christmas! We missed it at Thanksgiving.”
“I’m sorry.” Jennifer sounded determined.
George came in from the garage, saying, “What else needs to go in the van?”
Jennifer broke the news, and her father was noticeably disappointed.
“Look, why don’t you all just stay here another day?” Jennifer asked. “We can all be together for Christmas that way.”
“But the ham is in Skowhegan, and the gifts are all up there,” Marilyn wailed.
While they talked, Harvey prodded Eddie toward the door. Eddie threw Leeanne an apologetic smile. As they went out, Jennifer was saying, “So? What’s really important is that the whole family is here. We can come up with something for dinner, and…”
As soon as he’d buckled his seatbelt in the truck, Eddie said, “Where to?”
“Fifteen-oh-seven Bingley Lane.”
Eddie reached for the ignition and stopped. “We’re going to Mike’s house?”
“Yeah,” Harvey said grimly. “I didn’t want to discuss it in front of everyone.”
“Oh, man. What’s going on?” Eddie asked.
“I’m not sure. Mike said, Harvey, it’s me. Get yourself over here fast. My granddaughter just found a d.b. in the back yard.”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. “There’s a dead guy in Mike’s yard?”
“Just drive, Eddie. Those were his exact words. I don’t know any details.”
Eddie lowered his snowplow, and they roared out onto the street. Probably Harvey’s neighbors would complain about the ridge of snow he left from the driveway halfway across Van Cleeve, but Eddie wasn’t going to stop and clean it up.
He put his strobe light on and drove as fast as he safely could to the police chief’s house. Bingley Lane had been plowed sometime in the night, but now had a couple of inches of snow on it again. The thick cover on the ground muffled sounds, and it felt like they silently glided toward Mike’s place with blue Christmas lights flashing.
The house looked like a greeting card, with snow on the roof and smoke coming out the chimney. Holiday lights strung along the eaves glowed faintly through a layer of powdery snow, and two snowmen grinned at passersby from the lawn.
Someone was wielding a snow blower in the driveway, so Eddie parked at the curb. He grabbed his kit from behind the seat, got out, and walked toward the house with Harvey. The guy blowing snow waved and kept working. He looked thirtyish, but Eddie didn’t recognize him.
The garage was closed, and a minivan sat outside it, covered with snow about four inches deep. The snowfall had stopped, but it had sure done a job during the night.
Mike came out of the house and walked toward them as he pulled on a parka. When he reached them, the snow blower was far enough down the driveway to let them hear each other over the engine.
“Hi. Thanks for getting here so quick.” He nodded at Eddie, showing no surprise that he’d arrived with Harvey. “It’s out back. I checked him to make sure he was dead, but I haven’t let anyone go out there since.”
“What happened?” Harvey asked.
“I don’t know. Debbie and her family are here, and the rest of the kids are on their way today to spend Christmas with us.”
Harvey nodded toward the guy operating the snow blower. “Is that her husband?”
“Yeah. The kids wanted to go out and play in the snow first thing this morning, so Debbie had them rig up and told them to stay in the back yard. I was just getting coffee, and Kelly comes running in the back door screaming her head off. Grandpa! Grandpa! There’s a man lying in the snow, and he looks funny!”
“What’d you do?” Harvey asked.
“Ran out there and looked at him, of course. No pulse, and he’s got a layer of snow over him. His coat’s red and black. I think she noticed the red first.”
“Did you recognize him?”
Mike shook his head. “Didn’t want to disturb the scene, so I didn’t look too close.”
“Did you call it in?”
He hesitated. “I wanted you as first responder. After I called you, I waited five minutes and then called Com. They’re calling the M.E. and sending out a couple of patrolmen. All of Legere’s detectives are off today. He said he could call Ron in, but I told him not to.”
“Okay,” Harvey said. “So, nobody’s seen the body but you.”
“That’s right. Well, me and Kelly and Mickey. Now, I’ll stay in the house and wait for you boys to do your thing. I told Debbie and Sharon to keep everyone inside. Elliott offered to blow the driveway so vehicles could get in and out.” Mike shook his head and swore. “How can a guy freeze to death right outside my window and I don’t know it?”
“You think he froze to death?” Eddie asked.
Mike shrugged. “I guess I’m hoping. I didn’t see any obvious wounds.”
“We’ll take a look,” Harvey said.
“Yeah. Go right through that gate.” Mike pointed to the opening in the fence that enclosed his back yard.
Harvey laid a hand on the chief’s shoulder. “You done good, Mike. Go get another cup of coffee. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Have the patrolmen stop at the gate until I tell them to go any farther.”
Found Art (Maine Justice Book 3) Page 29