Orchid Beach (17 page)
“Shall we split up?” Jackson said. “I’ll take the bedroom, you take the kitchen.”
“Okay, but let’s both go through the living room, first.” The two of them searched the room carefully, looking under furniture, under the rugs, behind everything. Holly checked the gun and fishing racks, but found nothing. Jackson went into the bedroom, and Holly took the kitchen. She went through every cupboard, checking every can for a false top and emptying cereal boxes. She searched the refrigerator and freezer, opening packages wrapped in foil and checking frozen food packages for signs of being opened.
Jackson came in from the bedroom. “Nothing in there, how you doing here?”
“Zip,” Holly said.
“Looks like if there was something here or at Hank Doherty’s, whoever was looking must have found it.”
“His notebook,” Holly said.
“What about it?”
“There isn’t one. Every cop is trained to keep a notebook; you never know when you might have to testify in court about the details of some incident. There’s no notebook here, and there was no notebook in the personal effects the hospital gave me.”
“So the shooters took it.”
“Yeah. I reckon that after they shot Chet, they took his notebook from his pocket and the shotgun from his car; then they went to Hank Doherty’s house, killed him and searched the place. It was fairly neat when I got there. Then they came here and turned over Chet’s place, taking some care to keep it neat. They’d have had the whole night to do it. Any panic they felt would have passed, so they took their time, even had a beer.”
“And left no traces, no prints.”
“Real pros,” Holly said.
“No mistakes?”
“Not so far. And if they don’t make one soon, we’re never going to clear these crimes.”
“You ready to go home?” he asked.
“Whose home?”
“Mine. I’m not letting you go until Monday.”
Holly glanced at her watch. “Let me try Ham again first. By the time we get home it will be past his bedtime.” She called from the phone on the desk, using her credit card. This time the phone rang only once; there followed an electronic shriek and a recorded message. “This number has been permanently disconnected at the request of the customer. There is no forwarding number.”
“I must have dialed wrong,” she said. She made the call again and got the same message. “I don’t understand,” she said, hanging up.
“Maybe your dad moved,” Jackson said.
“Without telling me? And without leaving a forwarding phone number? That would be very unlike him.”
“Is there somewhere else he might be?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“A woman? Maybe he’s got a new girlfriend, and he moved in with her.”
“That’s possible, I suppose. Well, I can call him at his base office on Monday and find out what’s going on.”
“Good idea. Let’s get out of here.”
They locked up and got back into Jackson’s car.
“I need to stop by my trailer to pick up a few things,” Holly said. “I hadn’t planned to make a weekend of it.”
“Sure,” Jackson said.
It was after midnight now, and with no traffic they made good time to Riverview Park. As they got out of the
car, Daisy jumped out in a hurry, nearly knocking Holly down.
“Daisy?” she called. “What’s wrong?”
Daisy had her nose to the ground, running along the path to the trailer. Now her hackles were up, and she was standing at the door, sniffing, staring at it as if she could see through it, a low growl coming from her throat.
Holly put a finger to her lips and raised a hand for Jackson to stand still. She dug the Beretta out of her bag and walked quickly up the path, her keys in her left hand, the pistol at shoulder height. She put an ear to the trailer door and listened. Then the door swung open.
H
olly nearly fell into the trailer, with Daisy snarling, trying to get past her. “Freeze!” she shouted, getting the gun out in front of her.
“Okay, I’m freezing!” a man’s voice called from the darkness inside. “Get hold of that dog, will you?”
Holly dropped her left hand and got hold of Daisy’s collar, but she kept the gun pointed into the trailer.
“Jesus, Holly,” the man said. “Are you going to shoot me?”
The voice was familiar. “Ham?” she called out.
“Right. Is that dog going to eat me?”
“Daisy, back!” Holly said. She pointed to the walkway. “Sit!”
Jackson was there now. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Jackson, I’d like you to meet my father. Ham, this is Jackson Oxenhandler.”
Ham turned on a light and looked at the two of them. “How you doin’?” he said, offering Jackson his hand.
“Good to meet you,” Jackson replied.
Holly turned to the dog. “Daisy, come. It’s all right.”
The dog walked warily into the trailer, her hackles still up.
“Daisy, this is Ham; he’s good, good. Ham, hold out your hand, palm down.”
“Am I going to get it back?” Ham asked.
“Just do it.”
Ham held out a hand. Daisy sniffed at it, tasted it.
“Good dog,” Holly said. “Ham is good, and you’re a good dog. Don’t eat Ham.”
“Thanks a lot,” Ham said. “I thought that was his next move.”
“It’s a she,” Holly said. “What on earth are you doing here? I’ve been trying to call you today, and a recorded message said your phone had been disconnected. Didn’t you pay your bill?”
“I moved,” Ham said.
“Where did you move?”
“Here. My truck’s parked down by the gate. There didn’t seem to be enough room for it by the trailer.”
“Let’s all sit down,” Holly said. “Anybody want a beer?”
“You talked me into it,” Ham said.
“Nothing for me,” Jackson said.
Holly got Ham a beer and sat down. The three of them and Daisy made the trailer seem crowded. “Okay, Ham, let’s have it.”
“I’m a civilian,” Ham said. “I am officially a retired military person.”
“Congratulations,” Holly said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I thought it would be a nice surprise.”
“Well, it is. I’m glad to see you. What are your plans?”
“Orchid Beach sounds like a nice place,” he said. “Chet said there was some golf to be had.”
“Well, I’m delighted to hear it,” Holly said. “You just picked up and drove down here? Why so sudden?”
“Look, Chet Marley and Hank Doherty are the two best friends I’ve ever had. It pisses me off when somebody shoots one and murders the other one. I thought I’d give you a hand finding out who did it—and killing the bastards.”
Holly turned to Jackson. “Everybody’s a detective—first you and now him.” She nodded at Ham.
“Unless you’ve already killed them,” Ham said.
“Whoa, there, Sarge,” Holly said. “I’m not going to kill anybody, and neither are you.”
“Well, is anybody going to do
anything
about this?”
“I’m working on it,” she said. “It’s not an easy one.”
“Tell me everything,” Ham said. “I’m all ears. Start with how Chet is.”
“Still in a coma, and nobody knows if he’s ever going to come out of it.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“All right, start at the beginning,” Ham said.
“Now?” Holly looked at her watch. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, and you’ve been driving all day. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
“Aw, c’mon, Holly, tell me about it.”
“Here’s how we’re going to do this, Ham: you’re sleeping here, and I’m going to Jackson’s house.”
Ham’s eyes narrowed, and he looked back and forth at the two of them.
“Now, don’t start, Ham,” Holly said. “I’ve been a big girl for a long time, and I’ll decide where I sleep.”
Jackson looked at Ham and shrugged.
Ham rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, darlin’.”
Holly looked down at his bag. “I see you’ve got your stuff. You get some sleep, and tomorrow morning, you come down to Jackson’s place, and we’ll all have breakfast, and I’ll fill you in.”
“Okay, what time?”
She looked at Jackson. “Ten o’clock?”
Jackson nodded.
“Hell, that’s practically afternoon,” Ham said.
“If you get hungry earlier, just root around in my galley.” She gave him directions to Jackson’s.
“Okay, ten o’clock.”
Holly got a small duffel and stuffed some clean clothes and underwear into it. When Ham wasn’t looking she dug her diaphragm out of a drawer and stuck it under the clothes. “All right,” she said, “let’s go. The sheets are pretty clean, Ham; don’t get them any dirtier. If the phone rings, let the answering machine get it. The station knows to call my cell phone first if they need me.”
“Okay, then,” Ham said. “See you in the morning.” He glared at Jackson. “You be nice to her.”
“Ham, shut up!” Holly said.
“Don’t worry,” Jackson replied, “I’ll take good care of her. See you at breakfast.”
They left the trailer and got into Jackson’s car.
“Jesus, what a shock!” Holly said.
“Aren’t you glad to see him?”
“Sure, I am, but I would have liked a little notice. What am I going to do with him? We can’t both sleep in the trailer. I’d kill him the first day.”
“Listen, you can go right on bunking with me until we can find him a place.”
She reached over and patted his thigh. “What a sweet offer,” she said.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Jackson said. “But he talks about killing a lot.”
“He’s done a lot of that in his time. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you with a single blow,” Holly replied. “He’s been trained to do that, you know.”
“I’ll make it a point to be
real
nice to him.”
“And me, too.”
“Especially you.”
H
olly woke up at nine forty-five and reached for Jackson, who wasn’t there. She struggled out of bed, threw on some clothes, brushed her teeth and her hair and went downstairs. Jackson and Ham were drinking coffee over the remains of a large breakfast. Daisy was leaning against Ham, looking up at him with adoring eyes.
“What time did you get here?” she asked Ham.
Ham shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Eight forty-five,” Jackson said. “I tried not to wake you.”
“I got hungry,” Ham said, “and I didn’t want any of that health food crap you eat, so I came on down here and made Jackson scramble me some eggs.”
“You want something?” Jackson asked.
“I’ll toast myself a bagel,” she replied.
“I’ve brought Ham up to date on what’s happened,” Jackson said while Holly made her breakfast.
“Jesus, what a mess!” Ham chimed in. “Now I see why you haven’t found the bastards.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Holly said. “Now, Ham, it’s important that you don’t go sticking your nose into this.”
“Why the hell not? Sounds like you could use the help.”
“Ham, I’m running a police department, here, and the city council is watching me like a hawk. I can’t have some gung-ho military type, bent on revenge, messing with my investigation.”
“What investigation? From what Jackson tells me, you’re about investigated out. You don’t have a damn thing to go on.”
“Ham, how would you like to spend your first few weeks in Orchid Beach in a cell?”
“
What
?”
“You ever hear of interfering with a police investigation? Obstruction of justice?”
“You wouldn’t do that to your old man.”
“Try me. I’m not having you under my feet, and I mean it.” She took a bite of her bagel.
“All right,” Ham said sullenly, “I’ll stay out of your way.”
“I’m talking about work, now, not personal.”
“Well, I certainly don’t seem to be standing in your way personally,” he said, glancing sharply at Jackson. “I didn’t slow you down last night, did I?”
“Ham, I am a woman in my prime, and you are a crusty, interfering old fart, and I don’t want to hear another word about sex.”
Ham turned crimson. “Jesus, who said anything about sex?”
“You did.”
“I did
not
.”
Jackson broke in. “Is it always like this?”
“Only when he starts bitching about my private life,” Holly said. “He’s never approved of a single man I’ve known.”
Ham pointed at Jackson. “I approve of
him
,” he said.
Holly blinked. “You do?”
“We’ve been talking for a while, and I reckon I know a lot about him by now.”
Jackson spoke up. “Where I was born, education, hobbies, past sexual experience, time as a cop, my legal practice, how much money I make. Considerably more than
you
know about me.”
“Ham, you can really be a pain in the ass sometimes,” she said.
Ham held up a finger. “It’s a father’s right to know something about the man who’s screwing his daughter.”
“
HAM
!” she screamed.
Jackson broke up and started clearing the table. “I’m out of this,” he said. “You two can fight it out.”
“All right, all right,” Ham said placatingly. “I guess I know enough for now. I’ll ask him the rest when he comes to me and asks for your hand.”
“Arrrrrrghhhhh!!!” she yelled, throwing up her hands in exasperation.
“Oh,” Ham said, “on a different subject, you had a phone call at the crack of dawn this morning.” He dug a slip of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Guy named Paul Green.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Holly said, looking at the number. “Oh, it’s the hospital. Dr. Green. Maybe he’s got some
news about Chet.” She went to the sofa, dialed the number and asked for Dr. Green.
“I’ll put you through to his home,” the operator said.
He answered on the first ring. “Green.”
“Dr. Green, it’s Holly Barker. You left a message for me.”
“Oh, Chief Barker, I’m sorry to have called so early. I seem to have woken up the gentleman who answered.”
“That’s all right, he’s my father.”
“I called with bad news, I’m afraid.”
Holly’s stomach tensed. “What’s happened?”