moment, eyes locked, mouths frozen in sad smiles, before bear-hugging and clapping each other on the backs. “Hippo, God damn it, it’s good to see you!” said Carl when they broke. “How the hell have you been?”
The police chief tried vainly to force a scowl into his smile, and he balled a fist, which he positioned under Carl’s chin. “ Hippo! I oughtta bust your melon, you little maggot! I thought I’d finally lived that nickname down. How old were we when you tagged me with it, anyway?”
“It wasn’t me. It was Dawkins, remember?”
Stu put a massive hand on Carl’s shoulder and shook him good-naturedly. “Yeah, I guess I do at that. Renzy gave everybody nicknames, but he never had one himself. Yours was the Bushman, as I recall—I can’t really remember the significance of it.”
“You don’t want to know, believe me.”
“Anyway, you’re probably the only one in the world who can call me Hippo now and live to see the sun come up. Welcome back to Greely’s Cove.”
“It’s good to be back,” said Carl. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”
Stu Bromton’s smile fell away, and his eyes darkened with that Dachau look. “Carl, I’m sorry I didn’t call you personally about Lorna. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the one to lay that on you. I hope you don’t—”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I understand. The coroner was very nice about it.”
Another car from the Greely’s Cove Police Department arrived, this one driven by the young cop whom Carl had seen in The Coffee Shoppe, the one who had told the waitress about Teri Zolten. Officer Dean Hauck got out, bearing two Styrofoam cups full of coffee. He walked over, handed one to Stu, and sipped the other.
After prying the plastic lid off the cup and whiffing the steam, Stu asked, “Is this from the station?”
“Negative, Chief,” answered Hauck. “I got it at The Coffee Shoppe. Figured you deserved some of the good stuff, with all the pressure you’re under and all.”
“Did you find out about the dogs, like I asked?” asked Stu, ignoring Hauck’s brownnosing.
“Affirmative,” said Hauck, adjusting his mirrored glasses. “I called the Seattle PD, and they said they can have a couple of bloodhounds out here within the hour.”
“Good. Anything else I should know about?”
“The county says they’ll send a forensic investigation unit to go over the car, but not until noon. Their main guy was up in Vancouver for the weekend, and he has to drive all the way down.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess,” lamented Stu, “and in this town we’re definitely beggars. As you can plainly see, the state’s arrived.” He nodded toward the dour Smokey, who stood with a pair of sheriff’s deputies near the middle of the lot. “Why don’t you go over and brief those guys, Dean? I’m going to spend a few minutes with my old buddy here, then I’m going out to the scene. When the press shows up, have them wait at the station, and don’t say anything to them. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Will do, Chief.” Hauck hurried off to join the trooper and the deputies, who stood shmoozing with their thumbs hooked into their woven leather gun belts.
“So,” said Stu, regarding Carl again, “what brings you out on this damp Sunday morning?”
“I was having coffee with Lorna’s sister over at The Coffee Shoppe when I heard your man Hauck tell the waitress about Teri. I hotfooted it over here right away, thinking maybe I could help somehow.”
“That’s decent of you, old stud, but you’ve already got all the trouble one guy needs.”
“You’re probably right.” Carl smiled feebly, then glanced around the now nearly deserted parking lot. “What the hell do you think happened to her, Stu?”
The big man removed his visored cap with its plastic rain protector and ran a hand over his bristly scalp, but rain was still falling, so he put it on again.
“A call came into the station a little
The police chief tried vainly to force a scowl into his smile, and he balled a fist, which he positioned under Carl’s chin. “ Hippo! I oughtta bust your melon, you little maggot! I thought I’d finally lived that nickname down. How old were we when you tagged me with it, anyway?”
“It wasn’t me. It was Dawkins, remember?”
Stu put a massive hand on Carl’s shoulder and shook him good-naturedly. “Yeah, I guess I do at that. Renzy gave everybody nicknames, but he never had one himself. Yours was the Bushman, as I recall—I can’t really remember the significance of it.”
“You don’t want to know, believe me.”
“Anyway, you’re probably the only one in the world who can call me Hippo now and live to see the sun come up. Welcome back to Greely’s Cove.”
“It’s good to be back,” said Carl. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”
Stu Bromton’s smile fell away, and his eyes darkened with that Dachau look. “Carl, I’m sorry I didn’t call you personally about Lorna. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be the one to lay that on you. I hope you don’t—”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I understand. The coroner was very nice about it.”
Another car from the Greely’s Cove Police Department arrived, this one driven by the young cop whom Carl had seen in The Coffee Shoppe, the one who had told the waitress about Teri Zolten. Officer Dean Hauck got out, bearing two Styrofoam cups full of coffee. He walked over, handed one to Stu, and sipped the other.
After prying the plastic lid off the cup and whiffing the steam, Stu asked, “Is this from the station?”
“Negative, Chief,” answered Hauck. “I got it at The Coffee Shoppe. Figured you deserved some of the good stuff, with all the pressure you’re under and all.”
“Did you find out about the dogs, like I asked?” asked Stu, ignoring Hauck’s brownnosing.
“Affirmative,” said Hauck, adjusting his mirrored glasses. “I called the Seattle PD, and they said they can have a couple of bloodhounds out here within the hour.”
“Good. Anything else I should know about?”
“The county says they’ll send a forensic investigation unit to go over the car, but not until noon. Their main guy was up in Vancouver for the weekend, and he has to drive all the way down.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess,” lamented Stu, “and in this town we’re definitely beggars. As you can plainly see, the state’s arrived.” He nodded toward the dour Smokey, who stood with a pair of sheriff’s deputies near the middle of the lot. “Why don’t you go over and brief those guys, Dean? I’m going to spend a few minutes with my old buddy here, then I’m going out to the scene. When the press shows up, have them wait at the station, and don’t say anything to them. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Will do, Chief.” Hauck hurried off to join the trooper and the deputies, who stood shmoozing with their thumbs hooked into their woven leather gun belts.
“So,” said Stu, regarding Carl again, “what brings you out on this damp Sunday morning?”
“I was having coffee with Lorna’s sister over at The Coffee Shoppe when I heard your man Hauck tell the waitress about Teri. I hotfooted it over here right away, thinking maybe I could help somehow.”
“That’s decent of you, old stud, but you’ve already got all the trouble one guy needs.”
“You’re probably right.” Carl smiled feebly, then glanced around the now nearly deserted parking lot. “What the hell do you think happened to her, Stu?”
The big man removed his visored cap with its plastic rain protector and ran a hand over his bristly scalp, but rain was still falling, so he put it on again.
“A call came into the station a little
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