Lake Silence

CHAPTER 53

Grimshaw

Sunsday, Sumor 4

Grimshaw watched Officer Osgood enter the police station with a delivery box from Come and Get It.

“I heard you didn’t eat breakfast this morning,” Osgood said as he opened the box and pulled out a thermos and a covered dish. “It’s a bit early for lunch, but the meatloaf had just come out of the oven, so Helen made you a sandwich and coffee. There’s also some sliced fruit in there.”

Just the idea of having breakfast at the boardinghouse had burned a hole in his gut after Yorick Dane had waved that eviction notice in his face—not even having the decency to wait until he had gone to the police station and officially begun his workday. He’d walked out, saying they could meet him at the office. Since most of the residents in The Jumble woke up with the sun, he didn’t think Vicki DeVine would sleep in, but he wasn’t going to give Dane and his pals the satisfaction of rousing the woman out of her bed in order to kick her off her own property.

He’d toyed with the idea of calling Ilya Sanguinati and had come to the reluctant conclusion that that would be seen as taking sides and could get him called back to Bristol if Vaughn and his ilk complained to the right, or wrong, person. But he’d counted on there being enough of the Others up and about to see the cars crawl up the access road, forced to follow him at the speed he’d set. He’d counted on the couple of seconds of lights and sirens to draw attention to their arrival. And they had drawn attention, the best kind of attention. He’d breathed easier when Ilya had strolled in from the kitchen, as if he’d already been at The Jumble for an early-morning meeting.

He didn’t know what was going to happen now. He just hoped he’d enjoy it more than he had carrying out the law this morning.

Grimshaw didn’t touch the food. Not yet. One reason he had preferred to remain in the highway patrol division was that you didn’t have to trust anyone but yourself. “Sit down, Officer.”

Osgood sat in the visitors’ chair in front of Grimshaw’s desk. “Sir?”

“Something has been bothering me, and if we’re going to continue working together, I need an answer to a question.”

Osgood looked puzzled but not alarmed—and not too eager to be helpful. “What’s the question?”

“Why do you think Swinn tapped you for this assignment?” He’d been trusting the baby cop because Osgood had survived the Elders’ attack on the rest of the team. Now he needed to know if that trust was earned.

Osgood met his eyes and didn’t flinch. “There were rumors at the academy about a special group, a club that could provide ways to enhance a career. When Detective Swinn said he’d heard good things about me, that I had a good record at the academy, I thought this might be an audition of sorts for the club. But the drive up to Sproing was long enough to convince me I didn’t want to be beholden to someone like him, and I’d already decided I wouldn’t join the club if I was invited.” He hesitated. “So either I was tapped for the assignment to find out if I should be considered for membership . . .”

“Or?” Grimshaw prompted when Osgood hesitated again.

“Or Detective Swinn brought me along as the expendable member of his team.”

“That meshes with my thinking.” Grimshaw opened the thermos and poured a cup of coffee for himself, then gently wagged the thermos at Osgood in invitation—and felt the last whisper of suspicion quiet when Osgood fetched a coffee mug from his desk and held it out to be filled.

Grimshaw almost offered to share the meatloaf sandwich. Then he took the first bite. Nope. Not sharing. Best damn meatloaf he’d ever tasted.

He finished the sandwich, set the fruit aside, and sipped his coffee. Osgood sat across from him, waiting.

“Franklin Cartwright was working for Yorick Dane. When Cartwright is found dead, Swinn comes running up here to handle the investigation.” Grimshaw weighed what he knew and balanced it against what he could see coming even before he went over to Lettuce Reed and talked to Julian. Then, to Osgood: “You sit there and just listen.”

He called the Bristol Police Station and waited for Captain Hargreaves to come on the line. “Captain? It’s Grimshaw. Could you call in another favor with the source who knows the ITF agent who has a direct line to the governor? I need a background check on some people and don’t want to alert anyone in the Hubbney police force in case a member of a certain club hears that I’m digging. I especially need to know if any of the people I’m checking have had any combat training, even unofficially. We may have a lethal situation here.”