I snagged a chocolate donut out of the box, groaning softly when I realized they were still warm. “I seem to recall mentioning that. I’ve discovered that it’s a great way to lose weight.” I took a bite, savoring the rush of sugar and fat and everything else that was bad about a donut.
Ryan laughed. “Dear God, you look like you’re having an orgasm.”
“No, this is much better. Can you give me a ride to the PD? I need to check out a new vehicle. Jill said she’d come get me when I was ready, but since you’re here, I’ll impose on you instead.”
“Sure thing. What about your gun and phone and everything else?”
I scowled. “Well, once I get the car, then I can go to the cell-phone place and get a new phone, and then go to the gun shop and buy a new gun.” Beaulac PD didn’t issue duty gear or guns. Officers were allowed to purchase their own as long as it was on the list of approved firearms. Nice in some ways. Not so nice in others.
He grimaced. “That’ll get expensive.”
I sighed. “I know.” That was the not so nice part. I picked up the donuts. “I think it’s going to be a whole-box kinda day.”
I’D ONLY THOUGHT my old Taurus was a piece of shit. I was now the proud “owner” of an ancient Chevy Caprice, whitish, with the remains of old Beaulac PD decals clearly visible on the sides beneath a not-very-recent paint job. It stank to high heaven of cigarette smoke, the gas gauge was broken, and the foam steering-wheel cover was coming off in gritty little bits. It’s free, I reminded myself. No car loan, no gas bill, no insurance, no maintenance.
After plunking down an uncomfortable amount of money at the gun shop and the cell-phone store, I headed back to my office. A pair of blow-up swimmies had been taped to my office door, along with a flyer for swimming lessons at the community pool. “Nice,” I murmured with a smile. I pulled the swimmies off the door, my mood dimming at the sight of the note underneath telling me to report to my captain’s office when I got in. If I have to tell that damn story one more time …
There was a stack of papers and a padded mailer in the in-box by my door, and I snagged them as I unlocked my office. I dumped the donuts and swimmies on the desk, then took a quick glance through the papers. It was all the information I’d requested in my subpoenas, and I skimmed quickly, finding nothing at all that contradicted Elena’s statement to me concerning her financials.
Not that it mattered anymore.
I tore open the mailer to find a DVD within. It was labeled with the name of a local security company and a date and time stamp, and it wasn’t until I dug through the envelope and found the accompanying note that I realized it was the surveillance video from the gate at Brian Roth’s subdivision.
I pursed my lips as I looked down at the DVD. The Roth cases weren’t mine anymore, so the proper procedure would be to hand it over to Pellini. But will he even bother to look at it? Sifting through surveillance video was tedious and boring, and I didn’t exactly have the utmost confidence in Pellini’s drive to find out what really happened.
I compromised. I fired up my computer and burned a copy of the DVD, stuck the copy in my bag, then stuffed the original back into the mailer and dropped it in Pellini’s in-box. I even scrawled a brief note on a Post-it explaining what the DVD was and why I’d requested it. Who knows. Maybe he’ll actually go that extra mile. I wasn’t going to hold my breath, though.
Unfortunately, now I had to deal with my rank. After my previous captain, Robert Turnham, had been promoted to chief of police, a lieutenant from the patrol division had been tapped to become the captain over investigations—all of this happening in the time that I was “dead” and the first couple of weeks after that, before I returned to duty.
Captain Barry Weiss resembled a bulldog in darn near every possible way except for the fur. He was short and stocky and slightly bowlegged, with broad shoulders and a lower jaw that jutted out just enough to make the resemblance complete. I had met him a few times on scenes but so far had very little real face time with him.
I knocked on the frame of his open door. He looked up from his computer, peering at me over his glasses, then gave me a tight smile and waved me in.
“Hi, Kara, good to see you. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. You feeling all right?”
I nodded and sat in the chair in front of his desk. “Mostly bruises. I got lucky. Have state police found anything?”
He shook his head. “They collected some glass fragments at the scene, but it’s a metal-grate bridge, so most of it probably went into the river. But I’ll be sure to let you know if anything comes back. They’re still trying to get the car out.” He frowned. “Divers say it’s a real mess.”