paint of his trunk. ‘For Christsake,’ he muttered. He ran a finger down one of the deep grooves.
‘That’s terrible . Did it just happen?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen it before. Somebody must’ve done it last night.’
‘Kids, probably.’
He stepped over to Cynthia’s VW, and looked it over. ‘At least yours is okay.’
‘What kind of creep would do a thing like that?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Somebody who recognized my car, probably, I’m not too popular with some of the people in town. I always keep it garaged, at home. My tires got slashed a couple of times when I was leaving it out.’
She stared at the scratches. ‘I’m awfully sorry.’
‘Well, these things happen. We’ve got a saying, “If you want to be loved, be a fireman.”’
‘You think it’s because you’re a policeman?’
‘More than likely. Well, I’d better be on my way.’
‘Yeah. It’s time for me to wake up Eric.’ She stepped into his arms.
He felt her shivering through the frail robe.
‘Call me tonight?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’ He kissed her. ‘You’d better get inside before you catch pneumonia.’
He stopped at his duplex for a quick shower and shave, then drove to the station. The office was deserted except for Betty on the switchboard. She swiveled around to face him. ‘All quiet on the western front,’ she announced, smiling.
‘ Das ist gut ,’ Sam said. He poured himself a cup of coffee, and wished he’d grabbed something from the refrigerator before leaving home: a hunk of cheese, a hot dog. The coffee tasted wonderful. ‘Where’s Dex?’ he asked.
‘I would hazard a guess that he’s on the way.’
Sam glanced at the clock. ‘He’s never late.’
‘Rarely.’ She took a sip from her own coffee mug, and rubbed the lipstick print with her thumb. ‘In the twelve years I’ve spent laboring under his yoke, he’s been late only four times. Five, including today.’
‘Absent?’
‘Six days, four of them the week Thelma left.’
‘Hangovers from celebrating?’
‘That should’ve been the case, but it wasn’t. To look at him, you’d think the world had ended. Men can be so foolish when it comes to pretty women.’
‘You should know.’
‘Indeed I do.’ At fifty-two, Betty was still a slim, good-looking woman. ‘And I’ll admit, I’ve occasionally taken advantage of starry-eyed men. My husband is a perfect example.’ She laughed softly. ‘But there’s absolutely no excuse for a woman to behave like Thelma. Beauty doesn’t give one license to abandon common decency. It’s a crime the way she treated that man.’
‘Speaking of crime …’ Sam finished his coffee, and rinsed out the mug. ‘I’d better hit the road.’
‘Let me just ring up Dexter.’
While she dialed, Sam unlocked the gun cabinet and took out a sawed-off Browning.
‘He doesn’t answer,’ she said.
‘I’ll head over to his place.’
‘Why don’t you? I know he’s only ten minutes late, but it’s so unlike him.’
‘I’ll check, and let you know.’
‘Thanks, Sam.’
As he got into his patrol car, he half expected Dexter’s Firebird to swing into the parking lot. It didn’t, though, and he found his muscles tightening with worry as he drove out. He couldn’t imagine the chief over-sleeping. The big man had been raised on a farm, and often spoke of the built-in alarm clock that woke him at dawn, no matter what.
Car trouble, maybe.
Heart attack , whispered a corner of Sam’s mind.
He kept an eye on all the cars he passed, on those parked along the curbs. At a stop sign, he glanced at Ed’s Chevron. No Firebird.
For a moment, he wondered if the vandal whoscratched the back of his own car had gone to Dexter’s house – maybe slashed Dex’s tires, or sugared the gas … That didn’t seem likely, but it was possible. A minor-league vendetta against the Ashburg PD?
Finally, easing around a corner, he came into sight of Dexter’s house and saw the chief’s red Firebird