Murder at Fire Bay by Ron Hess

Jems, may I speak with you?”
    There was one quick dart of glittery eyes around the room, then a gesture at the empty chair.  
    She got right to the point. “What can I do for you?”
    “Well, I thought I might have breakfast with you.”
    Her head cocked in its raven’s way. “I have a busy morning. I will have to leave soon. What is it you want?
    I took a deep breath; this was not going well. Despite her hurry-up frame of mind, I decided to take my time. “You no doubt saw the police chief and me come off the knoll behind the post office?” I pushed the ashtray to the far edge of the table.
    Her lips curled over her teeth as she set her coffee cup down. “Yes?”
    “I don’t know if you plan to say anything about it in the newspaper or not, you know, in the column, ‘Seen about Town’? But if you are, I’m asking you to hold off for a while.”
    “Why?”
    “Because there is a criminal investigation underway, and I don’t want to have the news about it known in this town.” Getting no reaction, I added. “You would be the first to know, of course, when we bring it to an end.”
    Her fingers tapped silently on her cup. “Does this have something to do with Gloria Plinski’s death?” she asked.
    “I don’t know,” I answered. “That’s one of the things we have to find out.”
    “Okay,” she said, “I’ll hold off for now. But if I get a hint you are lying, I will report what I know. My editor has the final word, of course, but I will hold off for now.”
    I’m sure when I let out my breath it was visible, as she gave me what amounted to a smile.
    “Thank you, Ms. Jems.”
    She dipped her head. “I have to go now, Mr. Bronski. Enjoy your meal.”
    I watched as she walked toward the door. Mine weren’t the only eyes watching her. From the rear, in her business suit, she was a beautiful woman and I wondered if deep down inside she wasn’t soft and vulnerable. Had some boy or man taken her for a ride? My thoughts were interrupted by a harried middle-aged waitress, who took one look at the ashtray tamped out the offending butt, and hurled its contents into a nearby trash can. Finished with that, she took one swipe at the sweat on her forehead and took out her notepad.
    “May I help you, sir?”

 
    Chapter 14
     
    As I pulled up to the rear of the post office and turned the engine off, I looked over at the garbage bin. Hell with it. One night of watching was enough. I got out of the car and walked over to it. Taking a quick look to see if anyone was watching, I heaved myself into it and retrieved the package. I had a hunch that no one would ever come for it. Either they knew I was aware of the package, or else there was a screw-up in the crime ring. Perhaps someone had gotten their wires crossed.
    I walked into the rear of the post office with my arms wrapped around it, taking my own sweet time. I wanted to see if there were any unusual reactions. A few people glanced up from their work as I strolled by, but other than that I received no indication there was a problem. Well, it was a try.  
    I plunked the box down on my desk, wishing I could open the thing, but I couldn’t. Only the person to whom it was addressed could do that. Or a postal inspector, and he was two hundred miles away. I checked my watch. Hmm . . . nine o’clock. True to my expectation, the phone rang.  
    I picked it up. “Yes, sir.”
    “Bronski. Is that you?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Well?” The Boss’s tone didn’t bode well. In fact, he sounded like a bubbling volcano.
    I decided to choose my words carefully. “I’m afraid we struck out last night. No one showed to get the package.”
    “So what are you going to do about it?” he asked.
    “I think I’ll ask the package’s owner to come in and open it. Naturally I’ll have the local law here also.”
    “You’re not going to wait another night?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Why not?”
    “Just a hunch. I think somebody either got the word we were watching, or else