“Thatcher is no one’s shadow, Bernie. But if I can twist his arm, I’m going to sign him on as a deputy.”
“That will raise eyebrows.”
“It’s certainly raised yours. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
“I saw the arrival of an ambulance from my office window.”
He looked across the street toward the second-story windows on the facade of city hall. Bill had told Thatcher that those office windows overlooking Main were to Bernie what the pope’s balcony was to His Eminence.
He was saying, “If I read the insignia correctly, the ambulance came from Dallas. Who was it for?”
“Doctor-patient privilege, Bernie,” Bill said. “You know I can’t divulge the—”
“Was it someone I know? Why was he shuttled off in secrecy behind the building? Was it the Johnson boy? What was his name again?”
“Elray,” Thatcher said.
Croft turned to him. “Elray, yes. I heard you tried to chase down his assassin. In fact, you seem to be Johnny-on-the-spot since you came to Foley. One can find you anywhere there’s disorder.”
Thatcher said, “That seems to make you nervous. I wonder how come.”
Croft puffed up like an adder, but he faced Bill again. “You had just as well tell me who was in that ambulance. I’ll wring it out of Dr. Perkins anyway. Save me the climb upstairs.”
Bill relented. “A local woman was assaulted.” Without going into detail, he told Croft what had happened.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Who was she?”
“I’m keeping it quiet, Bernie, out of respect for the lady and her family’s privacy.”
“Very sensitive of you, Bill. But other ladies should be made aware that there’s a rapist in our midst, don’t you think?” He gave Thatcher a significant look.
Thatcher adjusted his stance to a more confrontational one. “Why don’t you just come out and say it, Croft?”
“Say what?”
“Accuse me of preying on women.”
“I already did.”
“And it didn’t stick.”
“Gentlemen,” Bill said quietly. “Let’s not draw an audience, please.”
The only audience they’d drawn that Thatcher could see was Hennessy, Croft’s so-called chauffeur. Cap pulled low, he was leaning against the side of the mayor’s car parked across the street, his posture a little too indolent to be genuine, his entire aspect one of menace.
Thatcher hadn’t made out like he’d noticed him lurking there, but he was well aware.
Croft was adding to his list of complaints against the sheriff. “I just don’t understand you. It’s obvious to everyone except you, even to men in your department, that your judgment has become clouded of late. Mine hasn’t. I’m responsible for the welfare of this town’s citizenry, particularly those who can’t defend themselves, our children, our female population.”
“Oh, for godsake, Bernie,” Bill snapped, “save the speech. The victim’s name was Norma Blanchard.”
The mayor reacted with a start.
“Obviously you knew her,” Bill said.
“Not personally, but I knew of her. The pretty sister, correct?”
“She was pretty before today.”