Overkill(35)

It was Deputy Dave Morris.





Kate lit out after Zach, battling her umbrella until she gave up and collapsed it. She ran to the rear of the truck where Zach and the deputy were once again in a face-off.

Seeing her, Morris smiled in the insidious way that grew more repugnant each time she saw it. “Hi, Kate.”

Before she could respond, Zach sidestepped to put his shoulder between her and the deputy. “What the hell are you doing snooping around my truck?”

Rainwater was dripping off the wide brim of Morris’s hat, which had a fitted plastic cover. “There was another incident of vandalism at GreenRidge last night.”

Zach’s jaw clenched. “Not my problem. Again, what are you doing around my truck?”

“I was just wondering if those folks had gotten back at you for perceived offenses against their valuable property.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Over here.” Morris turned and went around the rear bumper to the passenger side. Kate and Zach followed. From the folds of his slicker, Morris produced a large flashlight and shone it onto the truck, following a jagged furrow that had been dug into it from bumper to bumper.

“Someone’s keyed it,” Morris said. “I’m guessing in revenge for the vandalism.”

“Which I didn’t do.”

“Well, holes were punched in newly installed Sheetrock last night. Looked like with a ball peen hammer, something of that sort.”

Huddled close to Zach, Kate could feel the wrath emanating from him. She said, “Are there any security cameras at the construction site?”

“They’re looking into installing some.”

“In the meantime,” she said, “perhaps they should hire guards to protect their valuable property.”

“That’s exactly what I advised, Kate.” The deputy winked at her as though he and she were a two-person alliance.

Presumptuous ass.

Zach said, “You were just driving past the restaurant and happened to spot that gash in the side of my truck? In the dark? Through the rain?”

Morris took umbrage. “No, I’d called in an order for pickup. I pulled in over there.” He tipped his head toward his vehicle, which looked to Kate like a deliberate move to dump rainwater from the brim of his hat onto Zach. “My headlights caught it. I didn’t remember seeing it when I was up at your place the other day, so I came to investigate, see if the perp left any clues. I didn’t find anything.”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t,” Zach said.

“Somebody was sending you a message.” Morris again shone his flashlight along the gouge and made a sound of regret. “I hope your deductible isn’t too high.”

Fearing that Zach was about to launch himself at the deputy, Kate said, “You don’t want your food order to get cold, Dave.”

“No.” The deputy’s eyes sawed back and forth between the two of them, then he said good night, switched off his flashlight, and started across the parking lot toward the restaurant’s entrance.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured to Zach. She opened the umbrella and held it above the two of them. Or tried. She couldn’t reach high enough to cover him.

His angry expression relaxed. “It’s a little late for that to be any good, but here.”

He took the umbrella from her, held it over her, and started walking in the direction of her car. She unlocked it with her fob and opened the door. He gave her a hand up, then collapsed the umbrella and passed it to her. “Where are you staying?”

She gave him the name of a popular bed-and-breakfast.

“Main house?”

“One of the cottages.”

“I’ll follow to see that you get safely inside.”

“That isn’t necessary.”

“I’ll follow you.” He closed her car door.

He stayed close on her bumper as they drove through the picturesque town center. Tonight, it was locked up tight; the streets were dark. Arriving at the B and B, she parked in the designated space in front of the cottage, gathered her things, and made a dash for the door, where she turned to wave Zach goodbye.

But he had pulled his truck in beside her car and was getting out. He joined her beneath the narrow overhang. “Open the door,” he said. “Take a look.”

Shaking her head over the absurdity of his precaution, she used the old-fashioned key to unlock the door. Reaching in, she flipped on the light switch. They peered inside. “See? All’s well. No bogeyman.”

“Okay, laugh. But I don’t like that guy. I don’t trust him. He has a lech for you. He didn’t like seeing both our cars in the parking lot of the restaurant, so he stopped and keyed my truck out of spite.”

“Maybe he didn’t.” Her voice lacked the oomph to convince even herself of that.

“That gash is deeper than a key would make. His utility belt has everything except a chainsaw on it. But the real giveaway to his guilt was his shit-eating grin.”

“He is smarmy,” she said. “I did envy him his slicker, though. I’m afraid your leather jacket may be ruined.”

“No, the more abuse it takes, the better it looks.”

Correctly reading his telltale smile, she flipped open one side of his jacket and saw the familiar label. She started laughing and, abashed, bumped the crown of her head against his sternum. “So I was spot on.”