Murder on Edisto (The Edisto Island Mysteries) by C. Hope Clark Page B

behind her. “Look who dropped in,” Deputy Raysor boomed. “Playing cop again, doll? Isn’t that what they call women up north ?”
    Callie twisted around. “I’m not from up north .”
    He walked around her and leaned his hefty butt against Seabrook’s desk. “But you lived up there longer than down here. Sorta tells me you made a choice.”
    She peered at Seabrook. “I came to help.”
    Duty belt squeaking, Raysor leaned closer. “You’re bored because you’re out of the business. And you sure ain’t on our payroll, doll .”
    She turned and prodded a stiff finger at the flushed-faced, red-headed clown. “Quit calling me doll , or I’ll say something that’ll leave a scar. And I promise not to use words over four letters.”
    “I got a Masters degree, so use whatever size word you want.”
    Seabrook pushed up abruptly, his chair noisy across the floor. “Can I see you for a minute, Don? In Hank’s office?”
    “What’s wrong with here?” Raysor asked.
    “Just come with me, would you?” Seabrook squeezed around Raysor, who sneered at Callie as he turned.
    The ex-chief’s office was right in front of her. The men’s voices muffled through the thin wooden door they’d pushed almost shut. She tried not to listen, feeling awkward being in the same room with the receptionist who pretended not to take notice, either.
    Callie repositioned, embarrassed for Seabrook’s need to wield his rank in front of her. He meant well, and she appreciated the semblance of chivalry, but she could take care of herself. Back talking Raysor was refreshing, a throwback to her days of detectives versus uniforms when the banter became sport. She searched for a notepad to leave a message that she would catch up to Mike later. Muffles crystalized into words as the men’s voices amplified.
    “Keep her out of this,” Raysor said.
    “She could be of assistance, Don.”
    “You’re too busy admiring her T and A to see she’s damaged goods.”
    Geez, Raysor, you’re such a charmer. She’d watch his glances from now on.
    “She was a good detective from what I hear,” Mike said.
    What did he hear? And from whom? She caught herself moving to the front of her chair. The receptionist stirred now. Callie shrugged and mouthed Wow when the woman glanced over.
    “ Used to be are the pertinent words,” Raysor continued. “She’s lost her nerve.”
    “She’s already shown her instincts.”
    “You used to be a doctor. I don’t see you suturing up people.”
    A doctor? “That’s different,” Seabrook said. “Besides, we’re shorthanded.”
    “Not that shorthanded,” Raysor said.
    “When’s the last time you reported to Walterboro instead of here?” Seabrook’s voice took on an authoritative slant, different from what Callie had heard up to now. “Technically, I’m your reporting officer on this beach. How about some respect?”
    Yes! The nice cop had teeth!
    The door opened, and Raysor stormed off. Seabrook returned to his seat. After a long moment, he regained his composure. He retrieved her Glock from a drawer and laid it on the desk.
    “Maybe we ought to talk outside the station next time,” Callie said. “I’m not usurping your authority, or Deputy Raysor’s, but I can’t ignore what’s happening around me. Another set of eyes won’t hurt, and it’s not like I’m green.” Raysor had stirred up a piece of her old pride.
    “What kind of friend would I be to Papa B if I slinked off, resigned that the Edisto Beach police force intimidated me? These three break-ins occurred within a stone’s throw of my door. I’m protecting my son.” She crossed her arms, then unloosed them. “I’ve investigated too many murders to count, and that doesn’t mean running crime scene tape and holding crowds back. I ran and solved cases.”
    She briefly wondered where the hell that came from. But her pride had been slightly scorched by Raysor blowing her off like spent cigar ash and leaving before she could snuff him