CHAPTER
35
Holly was sitting at her desk half an hour later when she looked up and saw John Westover and Charlie Peterson enter the squad room and walk toward her office. They’d made a decision, she thought. The two men stopped a dozen feet from her door, talked for a minute, then separated. John Westover went down the hall toward Hurd Wallace’s office, and Charlie Peterson headed for her door. Uh-oh, she said to herself, the chairman of the council is going to see Hurd, and Charlie is going to break the news to me. This doesn’t look good. She waved Peterson into her office.
Peterson took a chair. “Well, Holly,” he said, “we’ve spent the last hour rehashing all the applicants, reviewing qualifications and discussing the interviews. As John said, it came down to you or Hurd Wallace. John is in Hurd’s office, now, to tell him of our decision.”
Holly took a deep breath and said nothing. In the moment that passed, she decided to resign from the department rather than work for Wallace, and she realized that she had not given a thought to what she would do afterwards. Maybe she’d go to law school.
“The discussion was…vigorous,” Charlie said. “Ted Michaels weighed in at some length with his opinion, and it was clear that we were divided. Frank Hessian was the swing vote, and I think what bore the most weight with him was the opinion that Chet Marley had, in effect, expressed when he hired you.”
Holly let out the breath in a whoosh.
“The job is yours, and on your terms. There’s a twenty percent salary hike, and you’ll have the same insurance and retirement benefits that Chet Marley had. In essence, we’ll present his contract to you for signing, with only the salary changed.”
“Thank you, Charlie,” Holly breathed, trying to quiet her heart. “I’m grateful to all of you. It’s a great vote of confidence.”
“It was not a unanimous vote of confidence, I’m afraid. I think you probably guessed that Irma Taggert was going to vote against you, and after considerable hemming and hawing, John Westover voted for Hurd, too, though he said he was very impressed with you. John and I thought it would be best that he tell Hurd of our decision.”
“I understand,” Holly said.
“One more thing,” Peterson said. “While your contract gives you the authority to hire and fire, we voted unanimously that the offer of the contract be made conditional on your accepting Hurd Wallace as deputy chief, on terms identical to your present contract, and with immediate effect.”
“Is John telling Hurd that right now?”
“Yes.”
“I would have preferred to tell him myself, but I accept the condition,” Holly said.
“I’m glad. We all feel that Hurd is a good man, even if he is a little, well, hard to read at times.”
“We’ve gotten along well so far, and I’m sure we’ll continue to,” Holly said.
Peterson stood up. “Congratulations. We’ll have a contract for you to sign before the day is out.” They shook hands, and Peterson left.
Holly saw John Westover leave with him, and she got up and went to Hurd Wallace’s office and sat down. It was important that she start on the right foot with him.
Wallace looked at her with his usual lack of expression.
Holly wondered if he had been born missing some facial muscles. “I expect John Westover has told you of the council’s decisions,” she said.
“Yes, he has,” Wallace said tonelessly.
“I want you to know that I’m happy to have you as deputy chief; you’ve worked hard, and you deserve the job.”
“But apparently not the chief’s job,” Wallace said.
“That was their decision. Can you live with that?”
“Yes, I can.”
Holly stood up, took off her deputy chief’s badge, removed the smaller badge from her ID wallet and placed them on his desk. She held out her hand. “I look forward to working with you, Hurd.”
Wallace stood up and shook her hand. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll continue to work well together.”
Holly went to Jane Grey’s office. “Jane, will you type up a notice for the squad room bulletin board that the council has appointed me chief of police and Hurd Wallace deputy chief?”
Jane broke into a broad smile, came around her desk and hugged Holly. “Congratulations,” she said. “They did the right thing. Shall I send out a press release?”
“I think that should probably come from John Westover.”
“You’re right. I’ll remind his secretary when I see her in the cafeteria at lunchtime.”
“No, don’t press it, please.”
“As you wish.”
Holly went back to her office, opened her desk drawer, took out Chet Marley’s chief’s badge and pinned it to her uniform, then pinned his smaller badge in her ID wallet. She called Jackson Oxenhandler.
“Hello?”
“Suppose I buy you and Ham a celebratory dinner at the Ocean Grill in Vero Beach tonight?”
“You got the job?”
“I did.”
“What about Hurd Wallace?”
“I’ll tell you everything tonight.”
“See you then.”
She hung up and called her father. She was looking forward to giving him the news.
Holly was working at her desk when one of her female officers knocked on her door. “Come in, Sara,” she said, “and sit down.”
Sara Rodriguez, who was small and dark, perched on the edge of the chair across from Holly. “Congratulations on getting the job as chief,” she said.
“Thank you, Sara. What can I do for you?”
“Chief, you know the picture you posted on the bulletin board?”
“Yes.”
“I saw the guy this afternoon.”
“Where?”
Sara got up and went to the large map of Orchid Beach on Holly’s wall. She pointed at a street. “I was driving down this road on patrol, and I turned in right here so that I could turn around. It’s the trade entrance to Palmetto Gardens, where deliveries get made and the construction vehicles go in.”
“I see. And where was this man?”
“He was in the guardhouse there, wearing a uniform. He tried to chat me up.”
“You’re sure it was the same man as in the photograph?”
“Yes, ma’am. There could only be one face like that.”
“Thank you, Sara. Good job. And keep this to yourself, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The young woman got up and left.
Holly went to the bulletin board and took down Cracker Mosely’s photograph, then she had an idea. She went into Jane Grey’s office. “Jane, there’s something I’d like you to do.”
“Just name it, Chief.”
“I’d like you to find out—if you don’t already know—what state agency licenses private security services. Then I’d like you to call them and request a list of all the licensed security guards with Orchid Beach addresses.”
“No problem.”
“One other thing. Ask them if they license these people to carry firearms, and if they don’t, who does? I want a list of everybody who lives at Palmetto Gardens who’s licensed to carry a weapon, and who’s licensed to carry a concealed weapon, if that requires a special license.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Jane said.
Holly was getting ready to leave for the day when Jane came into her office and handed her three sheets of paper. “Here’s everything you asked for,” she said, then left.
Holly spread out the papers and looked at them. “Good God,” she said aloud.