by Radclyffe
Safe Harbor
Radclyffe
Safe Harbor
by Radclyffe
Chapter One
Provincetowns newest, and only, deputy sheriff pulled her cruiser to a stop in the parking lot overlooking Herring Cove. It was 6 a.m. on a clear, crisp morning in May. Other than a Winnebago parked at the far end of the lot, she was alone. To her right stretched the curve of sand leading to Race Point, and in the distance she could make out the figures of a few early morning walkers. Seagulls swayed low over the water, searching for their breakfast, their shrill calls echoing on the wind. The water reflected the color of the nearly cloudless sky, iridescent blues and greens slashed through by the frothy white of the churning waves. The air carried the damp mist that hovered over the dunes, chilling her skin. Despite the chill, she rolled the windows down, allowing the scent and sounds of the sea to rustle through the vehicle. A coffee cup sat on the dash, tendrils of steam drifting off on the breeze. Unconsciously she shifted her equipment belt, settling the revolver more comfortably against her right hip.
She reached for her coffee, her gaze idly following a trawler far out on the bay. Her mind held no clear thoughts, only the impressions of the timeless forces of nature that surrounded her. She felt totally insignificant and yet completely at peace. She felt more at home than she ever had. That fact should have been surprising, considering that she had only called this tiny town on the curving finger of land thrust arrogantly out into the Atlantic home for a few weeks. She had moved across the country to a place she had never even visited before, leaving behind a life that had shaped her since she was a child. Nevertheless it felt right to be here, and she accepted it with equanimity, as she had been trained to face all the circumstances life presented her.
Her attention was caught by a flash of color closer to shore. A red kayak with a bright yellow racing stripe streaked into view, the powerful rhythmic strokes of the kayaker propelling the craft swiftly through the water. Rather than disrupting the quietude, the image of churning arms and slicing paddle seemed to blend with the motion of the waves, joining in the harmony of swirling tides. She watched until the craft was just a dot on the horizon before she started her engine and pulled slowly away from the waters edge.
*********
Sheriff Nelson Parker glanced up as the door to the station opened, admitting a gust of wind that rustled the papers on his desk. The Sheriffs department was one large room with several desks that was separated from the waiting area by a low railing and a latched gate that squeaked when opened. In an adjoining room, at the rear of the building, were two holding cells that rarely saw any use. His deputy entered with the last of the breeze, and he was surprised once again by the slight disquiet he felt whenever he saw her. Maybe it was her height, she was damn near as tall as he was, or maybe it was the way she carried herself, ramrod straight even at parade rest. She had slightly broader shoulders and narrower hips than most women did, and she was in better physical shape than any of his men. The trim fit of her khaki uniform reminded him once again that he needed to work off those extra twenty pounds that seemed to have settled all too solidly around his waist. Maybe it was only that she seemed totally unaware of how imposingly good looking she was in that androgynous way that so many of the Provincetown women had. He thought ruefully that he might be just a little jealous.
"Morning, Chief!" she said, as she headed for the coffee machine. A frown creased the sculpted features of her angular face as she tilted the pot to survey the two inches of dark liquid in the bottom. "Last nights?"
"Fraid so, Reese," he answered apologetically. "I just nuked mine and chewed it."
"Jesus," she muttered, dumping the remains in the sink. "That looks worse than barracks coffee. And I wouldnt even drink that unless I was half dead." She started a fresh pot and settled behind the other desk. There were a few reports from the night shift stacked in the bin, and she picked them up to review.
"Anything I should know?" she asked.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. A few traffic stops for speeding, one DUI, and a couple of bar brawls down at the General Bradford. Not much happening until this weekend, I expect."
She glanced at the calendar displayed in one corner of the bulletin board. It was two days before Memorial Day Weekend. She had not yet experienced the transformation that befell the tiny fishing village with the onset of the summer season. Beginning in the end of May until after Labor Day, a flood of tourists would swell the normal population of several thousand to many times that number. The townspeople depended on the influx of visitors to support their economy, despite the constant complaints by the year-rounders of the hectic crowds and unmanageable traffic.
"Yep," the sheriff continued, "expect a lot of traffic - vehicular and foot, more accidents, more nightlife, and more drunk and disorderlies. Six months of nonstop pandemonium, and then six months of deadly quiet."
Reese filed the reports silently, envisioning the weeks of work ahead of her.
"Think youll be able to stand the winters?" Parker asked. "By December youll be able to see the length of Commercial Street without a car blocking your view. Youll walk down the street and the only footprints in the snow will be yours."
Reese looked up in surprise, her blue eyes questioning. "Why wouldnt I?"
He shrugged, curiosity warring with his sense of diplomacy. Shed been working for him for almost two months and he didnt know word one about her personal life. She never mentioned her past, or talked of any family. He found it hard to believe that someone who looked like her wasnt attached someway. Still, she never left any room for those kinds of questions, and he often found himself fishing for some clue as to who she was. "Its probably not the kind of life youve been used to."
Reese fiercely guarded her privacy. It was not only instinctual, it was learned. She fought the urge to leave his unspoken question unanswered. This man was not only her boss, but the person she was likely to spend most of her time with in the coming months. In his own way he was trying to be friendly. She reminded herself she had nothing to hide. "The life I was used to was military life, Sheriff. It can be very boring in its own way. It hasnt changed much in two hundred years."
"Youre way over qualified for this job," he continued. "I knew that when I hired you. I just couldnt not hire you, not with your military police experience and a law degree thrown in."
She contemplated how much she wanted to share. Her social interactions were molded by a lifetime in the military, a rigid hierarchical world where relationships were defined and shaped by rank and politics. There were rules determining where you ate, where you slept, and whom you could and could not sleep with. There were ways around those rules if you were careful, and so inclined. Reese had never found the need to challenge them, but she was far from naive about the consequences. Revealing ones thoughts, and certainly ones feelings, could be dangerous and in some instances, deadly. As a young recruit she had been taught there were only three acceptable answers to any question or request put to her by a superior - "Yes sir", "No sir," and "No excuse sir".
She took a breath. "After fifteen years I found I was getting a little cramped in the military. I had to make a decision to stay for the rest of my life or make a move. I didnt like military law, but I still wanted to work the law, just differently. This job gives me the chance to do that." She didnt even try to explain the unrelenting restlessness she had felt the last few years; she didn't understand it herself. She had looked at her life and couldnt fault it, yet still she had left. She was here; she was happy with her decision; and she looked forward to her new life.
He looked at his deputy, wondering what she wasnt saying. She returned his look impassively, and he knew he had all the answers he was going to get.
"Well, Im glad to ha
ve you," he said gruffly. "And for Christs sake, call me Nelson."
She brushed the lock of jet-black hair from her face with one long fingered hand, a tiny smile deepening a single dimple to the right of her mouth. Her clear blue eyes were laser-like in their focus.
"Sure thing, Chief," she responded, suppressing the grin. "You want to take the first circuit through town or you want me to?"
He shook his head, trying not to laugh. "You go ahead. Im waiting for a call about next year's budget from the County Office. God, I hate the paperwork. I should never have run for Sheriff. I was much happier as the Deputy Sheriff."
"Too late now," Reese rejoined. "The jobs taken." She settled her hat over her thick, trim hair, snapping the brim to secure it over her deep-set eyes. For a second Nelson had the urge to salute her. Grabbing her keys, she headed happily for the door. She loved to be out on patrol, simply observing the day to day activities of the community she had made her own.
She had nearly completed her slow tour through the still sleeping village when the Sheriff radioed her.
"Reese?"
"Here," she answered, thumbing on her mike.
"They need you out at the clinic on Holland Road. A break-in."
She wheeled her cruiser up one of the narrow side streets that criss-crossed the main part of town, flipping her lights on with one hand.
"Two minutes," she replied tersely. "Is there a suspect on the scene?"
"Negative. But keep an eye out on your way. The doc just got there, so we dont know how long the suspects been gone. And Reese - the doctor is inside the building."
"Roger that," Reese replied curtly. A civilian in an unsecured building could easily turn into a hostage situation. At the very least it made her reconnaissance more difficult because she had to be on guard for both innocent bystanders as well as the possible perpetrator. She did not use her siren. If anyone was still there, it was best not to alert them. For the same reason, she did not want an army of police cars barreling into the scene. Not that there were an army of patrol cars in the small Provincetown force.
"Ill call in when Ive checked the area. Hold the back-up for now."
She saw no one suspicious as she traveled the short distance to the East End Health Clinic. The small parking lot was empty except for a Jeep Cherokee with a kayak roped to the top. She recognized the red craft she had seen an hour earlier on the bay. She left her cruiser angled across the drive, blocking the exit. She quickly circled the building on foot, noting the shattered window at the rear of the small one story structure.
As she moved around to the front, the door was opened by an auburn-haired woman in a white lab coat. Her hazel eyes were wide with concern. She leaned slightly on a burnished mahogany cane. The lower end of a leg brace was apparent below the cuff of her creased blue jeans.
"Im Deputy Sheriff Conlon, maam. Ill need you to step outside." Reese had slipped her revolver from its holster and held it down by her side. As she spoke she took the woman firmly by the elbow and maneuvered her out through the door onto the small porch. "Please wait in the patrol car while I check the building."
"Theres no one here," the women replied. "I looked."
Reese nodded, her eyes already scanning the interior of the clinic. "Just the same, you need to wait outside."
"Of course," the doctor replied. She stepped down off the porch, then turned back. "Patients will be arriving in a few minutes."
"Just keep them in the parking lot," Reese instructed as she moved cautiously into the waiting area. After she checked the offices and examining rooms, she returned to her cruiser and called Nelson.
"Chief?"
"Go ahead, Reese."
"No one on the premises. Ill be here for a while getting the details."
"Let me know what you get."
"Will do." She turned in the seat to face the women beside her. "Why dont we go inside and you can fill me in."
"Im Victoria King, by the way. Im the clinic director," the women informed her as they entered the building, extending her hand as she spoke.
Reese took the offered hand, returning the firm grasp. "Reese Conlon, doctor. Can you tell me what you found when you arrived?"
"I opened up at my usual time - 7 a.m.," the doctor began once they entered her office. "I didnt notice anything unusual until I opened exam room one. You saw the mess for yourself," she added in disgust. She leaned her cane against her desk and sat behind it, her folded hands resting on the scratched surface. They were steady, Reese noted.
"I called the Sheriff immediately, then I looked around."
A brave but dangerous thing to do , Reese thought to herself. "Did you see anyone walking on the road before you got here, or a car that seemed out of place?"
"No. But then I wasnt looking for anything. I came straight here from Herring Cove."
Reese studied the woman carefully, noting the strong forearms exposed by the rolled sleeves of her white coat. She wore a simple deep blue polo shirt and pressed blue jeans underneath. She looked to be about thirty-five, lightly tanned with a smattering of freckles on her cheeks that only added to her attractiveness. She had the well-toned look of an athlete, despite the cane at her side. "Your kayak?"
Victoria ran a hand absently through the short layers of her shoulder length hair, shrugging slightly as she did so.
"Yes." She waited for the expression of disbelief that usually followed. Most people looked at her leg and assumed she couldnt manage anything physical. She had come to expect it, but it still angered her.
"Do you do that everyday?" Reese asked pointedly.
"Yes, why?" Victoria replied defensively.
"Because in a town this small any local would know that," Reese responded evenly, giving no sign that she had heard the edge in the doctor's tone. "And they would also know when the clinic was empty."
"Oh, I see," Victoria murmured, feeling a little foolish at her own reaction. She wasnt usually so sensitive. Maybe it was just the stress of the situation or the fact that this rigidly professional officer unsettled her. The cool, controlled manner of the woman across from her was disconcerting. She was so remote as to be unreadable. Victoria was used to establishing rapport quickly with people, and now she felt a little off balance. The sheriffs precise, impersonal approach reminded her of some surgeons she had known - excellent technicians but no feel for people.
"Are you all right, Doctor?" Reese asked quietly. The womans tension was obvious.
Victoria was more affected by the violation of her clinic than she had realized, a fact that apparently had not escaped the notice of the observant sheriff. She was embarrassed to appear less than capable in front of her, and then quickly wondered why she should care. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes, Im fine, thank you. Im usually much better in a crisis."
Reese smiled. "I dont imagine you deal with this sort of thing very often."
Victoria breath caught at the sudden transformation that accompanied that brilliant smile. Suddenly, the sculpted features were suffused with compassionate warmth, and a stunning beauty. It was like watching a work of art unexpectedly come to life. She blushed at her visceral reaction, hoping she wasnt as transparent as she felt. She was grateful to see that the dark head was bent over a small note pad Reese had balanced on her crossed knee. Taking herself firmly in hand, Victoria replied calmly, "Youre right. What can I tell you that will help?"
"Whats missing?"
Victoria raised her hands helplessly. "I have no idea. Ill have to inventory all the examining rooms and the pharmacy."
"What drugs do you have here?"
"The usual - antibiotics, a lot of pharmaceutical samples, AIDS meds"
"What about narcotics?"
"Not much. I dont dispense drugs here, but I need a small quantity of a variety of medications in the event of emergency. Im the only doctor for thirty-five miles. I have a limited supply of codeine, percocet, methadone."
"Injectibles?"
"About a dozen ampoules o
f morphine. All of the narcotics are locked in the drug closet."
"Was it broken into?"
"I didnt have time to check."
"Lets do that."
Reese followed the doctor into a small room at the rear of the building that was little more than a walk-in closet. Shelves held linens, sealed surgical packs, IV solutions, and other supplies. A cabinet with a built in lock was tucked into the corner of the room.
Victoria sighed with relief when she saw that the door to the drug locker appeared sound. Inserting a key, she opened the front and scanned the interior.
"It looks okay."
"Good," Reese replied. "Ill need a list of all the employees, the cleaning service, and anyone else who has access to this building. Who owns the building?"
"I do." Victoria grasped Reeses arm as Reese turned to leave the storeroom. "Theres no way anyone who works here would do this."
Reese faced her, her expression carefully neutral. "Im sure youre right. Its just routine."
After Victoria prepared a preliminary list, Reese folded it into her note pad. She studied the doctor for a moment, not missing the slightly distracted look in her eyes.
"Are you sure youre all right?"
Victoria extended her hand, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. She was very aware of being appraised by the cool blue eyes that searched her face. "I am. Thank you, Sheriff."
Reese shook the offered hand.
"Maam." She touched a hand to her cap and left.
Chapter Two
"Tory! Tory! Where are you?"
"In here," Tory called, "in the procedure room." She looked up from where she was kneeling, sorting and cataloging supplies, to greet the clinics head nurse. "Hey, Sal - glad to see you."
"What is going on? Are you okay?" Sally Price asked anxiously, surveying the mess on the floor.
"Yeah, Im fine - somebody broke in last night."
"I saw the cop out front. Shes a new one, isnt she?" Sally retrieved several unopened boxes of surgical gauze from the floor and stacked them on the counter. "What a hunk! Did you catch the body? Jesus!"