bismark, his tongue reaming out the custard.
“You look delicious, Maddie,” Dink said before audibly swallowing and then walking off with his typical swagger. His stride gradually drew his pants deeper into his butt crack, causing his cuffs to ride up exposing his white socks. The man was a twit, but a connected twit, so some restraint was necessary but there was just so much she was willing to take, and he had just passed that threshold.
“Fuck you, Dink,” she said, without caring that several other officers were within hearing distance.
“Ah, Maddie is it that time of the month?” he grinned.
“Yeah, Dink,” Maddie said in a matter of fact voice. “I’m on the rag, okay. Now get off my ass or I’ll whip it out and stick it on your forehead.” Sorry, Mom. That had been over the top, but Dink’s remarks were getting old and his behavior intolerable.
Okay, Chief, Maddie thought, bring it on.
***
Chief Layton was well known for not tolerating long meetings, felt they wasted time and only made it harder when he got to the point. One thing in his office hinted at the sumo-built man’s humanity, a small basketball hoop attached to the top of his wastebasket in the corner.
Maddie smiled briefly with the realization that the man never fully escapes the boy.
The chief made no gesture for Maddie to sit. He just sat there looking at her with a stare that could soften blacktop. Then he began.
“Sergeant Richards, the word is you’ve made no progress in catching this serial killer everybody’s now calling the Beholder. None. Zip. I can take the pressure off you by putting Lieutenant Harrison in charge.”
Standing and looking down at the chief’s bald head made her wonder if this was how an aircraft carrier looked to a fighter pilot coming out of the clouds, sweat in his eyes, one engine gone, and enough fuel to make only one attempt at a dry landing.
“That’s your call, sir,” she heard herself say, “but I don’t recommend it. The city might think you’re playing politics.”
“I can figure the angles, Sergeant,” he said, drumming his fingers on the desk blotter.
“In accordance with your earlier announcement, Lieutenant Harrison has rearranged the department’s workload. The Beholder is the only case my partner and I are working, as well as Brackett and his partner, and, ah, um, Archibald Nigh. As yet I’ve made no use of Archie.”
“Well, find something,” the chief snapped. “He’s on your squad to stay.”
Archibald Nigh had a thin waist, wide shoulders, and except for a light five-o’clock shadow, the skin of a debutante. He also had the detective’s shield he had acquired following a brief, inglorious time in the ranks. His attitude toward the job reflected his unspoken conviction that completing college, being gorgeous, and being the grandson of an Arizona Supreme Court judge should be enough. So far it had been.
“I’ve asked Lieutenant Harrison to shift Sue Martin from patrol to the Beholder squad,” Maddie continued. “I’ll use her to run down loose ends and assist with administration. Brackett is coordinating an effort by the vice guys to check all known sex offenders. That’s not promising. The Beholder’s M.O. doesn’t match up with any of our knowns.”
“Sue Martin’s a uniform cop. Why not use a detective?”
“We have many fine detectives, sir, but with so many of us working only the Beholder case, they’re already spread thin. I know Officer Martin. I know what she can do, and what she can’t. That counts at a time like this. There’s one Beholder and, with Officer Martin, five of us. The odds are in our favor, sir.”
The chief pointed at her with a nicotine-stained index finger. “With Archie Nigh you’ve got six. But this Beholder knows the where, when, and who of his next strike. Those odds are in his favor. Wouldn’t you say, Sergeant?”
“Heavily in his favor, sir.” Maddie wished she had never uttered the dorky remark.
“The
“You look delicious, Maddie,” Dink said before audibly swallowing and then walking off with his typical swagger. His stride gradually drew his pants deeper into his butt crack, causing his cuffs to ride up exposing his white socks. The man was a twit, but a connected twit, so some restraint was necessary but there was just so much she was willing to take, and he had just passed that threshold.
“Fuck you, Dink,” she said, without caring that several other officers were within hearing distance.
“Ah, Maddie is it that time of the month?” he grinned.
“Yeah, Dink,” Maddie said in a matter of fact voice. “I’m on the rag, okay. Now get off my ass or I’ll whip it out and stick it on your forehead.” Sorry, Mom. That had been over the top, but Dink’s remarks were getting old and his behavior intolerable.
Okay, Chief, Maddie thought, bring it on.
***
Chief Layton was well known for not tolerating long meetings, felt they wasted time and only made it harder when he got to the point. One thing in his office hinted at the sumo-built man’s humanity, a small basketball hoop attached to the top of his wastebasket in the corner.
Maddie smiled briefly with the realization that the man never fully escapes the boy.
The chief made no gesture for Maddie to sit. He just sat there looking at her with a stare that could soften blacktop. Then he began.
“Sergeant Richards, the word is you’ve made no progress in catching this serial killer everybody’s now calling the Beholder. None. Zip. I can take the pressure off you by putting Lieutenant Harrison in charge.”
Standing and looking down at the chief’s bald head made her wonder if this was how an aircraft carrier looked to a fighter pilot coming out of the clouds, sweat in his eyes, one engine gone, and enough fuel to make only one attempt at a dry landing.
“That’s your call, sir,” she heard herself say, “but I don’t recommend it. The city might think you’re playing politics.”
“I can figure the angles, Sergeant,” he said, drumming his fingers on the desk blotter.
“In accordance with your earlier announcement, Lieutenant Harrison has rearranged the department’s workload. The Beholder is the only case my partner and I are working, as well as Brackett and his partner, and, ah, um, Archibald Nigh. As yet I’ve made no use of Archie.”
“Well, find something,” the chief snapped. “He’s on your squad to stay.”
Archibald Nigh had a thin waist, wide shoulders, and except for a light five-o’clock shadow, the skin of a debutante. He also had the detective’s shield he had acquired following a brief, inglorious time in the ranks. His attitude toward the job reflected his unspoken conviction that completing college, being gorgeous, and being the grandson of an Arizona Supreme Court judge should be enough. So far it had been.
“I’ve asked Lieutenant Harrison to shift Sue Martin from patrol to the Beholder squad,” Maddie continued. “I’ll use her to run down loose ends and assist with administration. Brackett is coordinating an effort by the vice guys to check all known sex offenders. That’s not promising. The Beholder’s M.O. doesn’t match up with any of our knowns.”
“Sue Martin’s a uniform cop. Why not use a detective?”
“We have many fine detectives, sir, but with so many of us working only the Beholder case, they’re already spread thin. I know Officer Martin. I know what she can do, and what she can’t. That counts at a time like this. There’s one Beholder and, with Officer Martin, five of us. The odds are in our favor, sir.”
The chief pointed at her with a nicotine-stained index finger. “With Archie Nigh you’ve got six. But this Beholder knows the where, when, and who of his next strike. Those odds are in his favor. Wouldn’t you say, Sergeant?”
“Heavily in his favor, sir.” Maddie wished she had never uttered the dorky remark.
“The
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