Orchid Beach (Holly Barker 1)

“Chet? It’s Holly. I just got in.”

“Oh, good. Everything all right for you at Riverview?”

“Sure is. I’ve even got a river view.”

“Boy, am I glad you’re here. I wanted to buy you dinner tonight, Holly, but something’s come up, and I have to meet with somebody.”

“That’s all right. I’m kind of tired, anyway.”

“It’s about that internal problem I told you about.”

“Anything new on that?”

“A whole lot. I’m getting close, now, and after my meeting tonight, I’m going to be ready to start knocking some heads together. Looks like there’s not going to be as much for you to do as I thought.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve got a handle on it,” she replied. “I know you’ve been worried.”

“I sure have. Listen, you show up at the station at nine tomorrow morning, and I’ll bring you up to date and get you started. I’ve got a boxful of uniforms for you, and we’ll get you a badge and ID and a weapon issued. There’s going to be a lot to do, even without the internal problem, because we’re going to be a little shorthanded after I’m finished.”

“That’s fine,” she said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

They hung up. Holly went to the kitchen and found a steak and a bottle of cabernet, then she got out the stainless steel grill, set it up outside and hooked up the gas bottle, which, she noticed, seemed almost empty. She started the grill, then unstrapped her lawn furniture from the rack on the trailer, poured herself a glass of wine, put the steak on the fire and sat down to watch the sun set over the river. The water had turned purple and gold, and the sun made a big red ball as it sank through the haze. She turned the steak, sipped the wine and took it all in. Her new home was on a small inlet leading from the main river, surrounded by acres of marsh, with a little dock a few feet away. Maybe she’d buy a boat. She’d taken the money she’d saved, plus her part of the insurance money from her mother, who had died three years before, paid off the loan on the trailer, traded in her car and put the rest into treasury bills and a mutual fund. She drank her wine and took stock.

She was thirty-eight years old, with exactly twenty years in the military behind her. She’d enlisted at seventeen, been assigned to the MPs at nineteen, gotten her bachelor’s degree through the University of Maryland program that operated on military bases all over the world, gone to Officer Candidate School at twenty-two and worked her way up to major and command of a company of MPs. That was when Colonel Bruno had taken a liking to her, and nothing had been the same since. What had started as a simple pass, rebuffed, had turned into a yearlong campaign of would-be seduction that had ended in a nearly successful attempt to rape her. That was when she could take it no longer and had pressed charges.

Holly had known that prosecuting him would be an uphill battle, but when the young lieutenant had walked into her office and told her own story of Bruno’s abuse, she had thought the corroboration of another officer would put the man in prison, or at least get him out of the military. It still stung to know how wrong she had been.

She fixed herself a salad and ate the steak absently, reflecting on the life that had brought her to Orchid Beach. What had she done wrong? Why had this happened to her? She had made a real career for herself in the army, with consistently outstanding evaluations by her superiors. She’d have made lieutenant colonel in another six months and retired after thirty years as a full colonel. As it was, she’d have only the twenty-year pension as a major, which, while it wasn’t bad, wasn’t what she had planned on. With a little luck, she might even have made it to brigadier general, which would have made Ham proud enough to pop—her mother, too, if she could look down from where she surely was.

She sat until well past dark, trying to limit herself to half the bottle of wine and failing, then she picked up her dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. She put a rubber cork into what was left of the bottle and pumped the air out, keeping it fresh for another time.

She took one more look out the door at the river. The moon had risen and the resulting streak of light across the water came nearly to her feet. An army brat her whole life, right now she was a civilian for the first time. Tomorrow she’d be a cop. She’d get in a run early, to work off the effects of the wine; then she’d be at her new job on the dot.

She undressed and got into bed, naked, and began to drift off. The crickets in the swamp lulled her to sleep. Chet Marley had made a good decision, she thought. She’d do him proud.

CHAPTER

3

H olly found the municipal building half a block off the beach, parked her car in the public lot, went into the building and consulted the directory. Everything seemed neatly packaged in one four-story structure—city manager’s office, council offices, tax office, city attorney, water authority and the other municipal departments, all on the upper floors. Directly ahead on the ground floor, behind a set of glass doors, was the Orchid Beach Police Department. She walked in.

A uniformed officer in what appeared to be his early twenties sat behind a broad desk, a high stool bringing him to her eye level. “Good morning,” she said, “my name is Barker; I have an appointment with Chief Marley.”

He blinked at her, but didn’t move for a moment. “Just a minute,” he said finally, then got up and walked down a row of small offices and disappeared into one. A moment later he returned, followed by an older uniformed officer.

“Morning,” the officer said. He was a little over six feet, of slim build, with glossy black hair cut short. “Can I help you?”

“I have an appointment with Chief Marley,” she said again.

He nodded and opened a gate in the railing that separated the public area from the squad room, where half a dozen desks sat, most of them empty. “Follow me,” he said.

Holly followed the officer to the rear wall of the squad room, and into a large glass-fronted office. He sat down behind the desk and indicated with a silent gesture that she should sit opposite.

“The chief’s not in,” he said. “Can I help you with something?” His attitude was blank, noncommittal, not impolite.

“Chief Marley is expecting me,” she said. “I’ll wait.”