Haunted (Michael Bennett 10)

I stepped over toward Sandy. The bearded asshole named Anthony looked at me and said, “I know how New York cops are. I watch the news. Someone got to you guys. Someone has paid you off.”

I looked at him and shook my head. “That’s right, Anthony. I accepted a freezer full of venison and moose jerky just to let a killer walk free.” As I walked past him I muttered, “Jerk-off.”

Anthony said, “What did you just say?”

I turned around until we were nose to nose and said, “I called you a jerk-off. I did that because you’re acting like a jerk-off. What are you gonna do about it? You can’t fire me from the Linewiler Police Department.”

The man shifted his hand on the rifle he was holding.

I stared him down and said, “You move that hand on that rifle one more time and you’ll lose it.”

I heard car doors slam and tires squeal as people pulled away. I realized that I had not helped the situation dramatically. I also knew that the people of Linewiler were not happy.

I figured I could live with both those situations.

Chapter 71

The next morning I met Sandy at her office. She didn’t say why she needed me, and I didn’t ask. She was my partner. She had been since the days we both worked the Bronx.

We sat in the conference room at the police department with a uniformed sergeant, the chief of police, and the chief assistant district attorney. The chief

ADA was a beautiful Latin woman named Addy Villanueva. A graduate of the University of Maine, she was petite but fiery. No one would mistake her for shy or quiet. Her long dark hair flipped from side to side as she talked to us about the calls her office had been getting from various politicians.

She said, “One of your residents, Tom Bacon, had the US congressman call our office and demand action on the case. The ADA who handled the Streeter case in court for you has called in sick, and no one can get in touch with him. Two different county commissioners called my office and demanded to know what was going on. My boss, who is an elected official, told me to make sure things wouldn’t get any worse. I don’t see how they could.”

Sandy said, “I guess it’s worse if some vigilante does something crazy, like shoot Dell Streeter.”

I liked her casual tone. It was an old police trick that helped put people in their place and keep situations calm.

The ADA said, “Is that a possibility?”

Sandy shrugged and said, “Based on what I saw last night, yes.”

The beautiful ADA said, “We can’t let that happen. You can’t let that happen.”

Now I cut in. “Do you expect the police of this department to provide protection to a guy like Dell Streeter?”

She stared at me for a moment. She was trying to decide if she even needed to answer an outsider like me.

I said, “What’s the use of Streeter’s bodyguards if they can’t scare off a few vigilantes? Seems like a waste of money to me.”

The ADA didn’t appreciate flippant comments. That was all I had right now. She gave me a dirty look but still didn’t answer.

I kept going. “So I guess you’re saying he needs police protection. Police resources that could be used to make a case against him instead of protecting him.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And don’t give me that bull about resources. Everyone works with less. The town has an overtime budget for emergencies. I’d call this an emergency.” She took a moment to catch her breath. She looked right at me and said, “Are you telling me the NYPD has never been in an awkward position like this?”

“Not one that touches so many people personally. Not one in which everyone involved knows everyone else. And certainly not one in which everyone in town gets to carry a gun.”

The ADA stared me down with her dark eyes and said, “The gun politics of Maine are none of your concern. If the Linewiler Police Department wants to accept your help, that’s okay with me, but don’t try to do things the NYPD way. We’re not in New York. We’re in Maine. We have our own way of doing things.”

“I’ve seen that firsthand. And so far, I’m not terribly impressed.”

Chapter 72

That night we were sitting at our extra-large dining table. Seamus had just said a moving prayer. The old man never failed to surprise me. Just when I think he likes to play the part of a priest as much as he actually likes being a priest, it feels like he opens a connection for me directly to God.

Seamus said, “Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful meal. Give us strength in this time of crisis. Let us see the pain of others and through that understand their actions. No one here on earth can judge us. No one here on earth can truly hurt us. With faith and love, please show us the path. And, as always, please protect our precious Brian.”