The Shore (Leisure Fiction)

The chandelier flared. A coating of dust blazed on the crystals, and discolored bands of brightness striped the faded wallpaper. Blinking rapidly, he looked down at the old stains that pooled across the carpet.

'We had some trouble here in town earlier. Perhaps you heard about it? Mr....Hobbes, is it?'

'Yes, I...' His voice cracked. 'Yes.'

'We're just doing some routine checking on people, finding out about any strangers that might be in town.' As she studied his face, her expression hardened. 'Nothing to be nervous about.'

He succeeded in making his features relax. 'Of course.' He spread his hands open as though attempting to conjure invisible forces from the air.

'Thank you, folks.' She turned her head slightly, holding him in her peripheral vision. 'That'll be all for now. I'll call you if I need you,' she added, iron courtesy in her voice. 'I mean it, folks. You can leave us alone. Thank you. I'll put the lights out when we're through.'

So close. He felt himself sink, mired in the glare from the chandelier. I got so close. A torrent of thoughts surged through his brain, all of them desperate. Can't let them stop me. The top of the policewoman's head barely reached his chin, and her honey-colored hair glinted in the light. Not now. Her hair had been cut unbecomingly short, brushed severely behind the ears, the effect a touch too insistent in its attempt to minimize her femininity. And the face looked young, too young really. Are those freckles? The tension in his shoulders relaxed, and suddenly, he smiled. 'Anything I can do to help, Officer.'

'Won't you sit, please?' She remained standing.

Good. He nodded approvingly. Basic stuff--maintain the psychological advantage. He kept smiling. Right out of a textbook. Though her stance and tone of voice suggested confidence, the details of the performance didn't bear up under scrutiny. When he held her stare, she shifted her weight and wiped her palms on her pants, and her left leg seemed to tremble slightly. Well, why shouldn't she be nervous? I might be a killer after all. He even thought he detected a trace of lipstick. Total amateur. Apparently about to speak, she fumbled in her coat pocket for a notebook. What in hell is she doing here alone? This nervous woman had waited alone for a suspect? And suddenly he placed her as the type who, though nearly paralyzed with fear, inevitably pushed themselves into dangerous situations. Just what I don't need. It was just this quality that always rendered rookie cops a hazard--that need to prove themselves.

'Could I have your full name, please?'

She had the voice of a little girl, he realized, and the officious tone she tried to maintain made him want to laugh. 'Funny, you seemed to know it a minute ago.'

'I mean, just for the record.' She pretended to write something down.

His nerves must be even worse than he'd thought--such a flimsy routine, and for a moment he'd actually been worried. 'Barry Hobbes,' he told her. 'I'm an appraiser, doing on-site inspections for an Atlantic City developer.' It amused him to see her tense up as he dug for his wallet. 'This is my company's card. Would you mind sitting down too? It's been an exhausting day, and you're making me crane my neck. This weather. Everything aches.' He sank back into the sofa and immediately sneezed as a cloud of dust engulfed him.

She perched on the arm of the facing sofa. 'Did you hurt your hand?'

He unzipped the jacket. 'I stopped in at one of your local taverns, yes. I'm afraid I broke a glass.' He smiled fiercely, forcing his posture to slacken.

'That would be The Pine Inn,' she continued, struggling to retain an authoritative manner. 'It's the only one that's open. Awfully brisk night to be out, isn't it?' She seemed surprised to find herself sitting, and for just an instant, her glance lingered on the way his jacket bunched across his shoulders.

Good Lord, she likes me. It made him uncomfortable again, and he twisted a button on the front of his shirt, trying to conceal one hand beneath the other. She asked something else, but now the ardent voice maddened him. Run away from me, you little idiot. Suddenly, he wanted to shake her. This isn't a game, little girl, with your toy badge. You could wind up dead. He stared past her, forcing her to follow his gaze. Didn't your parents teach you not to talk to strangers? You'll never see anybody stranger than me.

'Folks, why don't you turn in now? Like I asked. Mr. Hobbes and I have a few things to discuss.' Her voice betrayed annoyance at finding the D'Amatos still hesitating in the doorway, and with an exchange of worried looks, the couple retreated to their apartment. 'We've had some trouble as I said, Mr. Hobbes. Have you heard about it?'

Slowly, his hand rose to brush at his forehead. 'Saw something about it on the news.' Seemingly of their own volition, his fingers returned to the loose button. 'Terrible thing. Really terrible.' The muscles of his upper arms and shoulders bunched like a boa constrictor as he fidgeted. 'Was she a local woman?'

Her eyes narrowed. The words sounded right, but there was something about his manner, as though the facial expression lagged a beat behind his voice, the effect oddly mechanical. 'They haven't released the identity of the body yet.'

The button came away in his hand, and he held it in his palm. 'But can't you give me some idea?' A smile of impressive voltage lit his face.

'We found a car,' she responded. 'It's registered to a dealer at one of the casinos. We don't know much yet, but it looks like she may have been involved in some pretty shady stuff.' Biting the inside of her lip, she tried to look away from him. 'Kept company with some real high rollers.'

'That's very interesting. And the body? Is it still here in town?'

'They took it...took her...what they could find of...away to the lab in A.C. They'll do all the...'

'And her car?'

'Still at the...they'll send a tow truck to...get it.' Her face clouded, and she seemed to shake herself. 'Well, thank you for speaking with me. If I...if we have any other questions, how much longer will you be staying in Edgeharbor?'

Not bad-looking. He allowed himself to admire the way the glow caught in the stray curls around her face. But such an odd bird. As with so many redheads, her skin held its pallor deeply, showing none of the latent tan sported by most of the town's residents. What the hell can she be doing here? Edgeharbor couldn't have more than a handful of cops on payroll. It seemed unlikely she'd seen cases involving much besides summer vandalism. He knew enough about small-town police to guess the layer of professionalism in which she cloaked herself must have been acquired elsewhere, and he wondered how old she could be. Twenty-five? Twenty-six? He squinted, trying to make out the color of her eyes, but they glinted red in the glare. 'Until my work is finished.' He rose abruptly, dismissing her. 'A few more days probably.'

The sudden sympathy in his smile startled her even more than the way he'd taken control of the interview. 'I guess,' she said, a flush creeping up her neck, 'that'll be all for the time being.' She snapped the notebook shut.

He barely responded as she thanked him for his time. The door closed behind her, and he listened to her footsteps going down the steps, then heard the muted growl of an engine. The front window lit for an instant, and the noise faded. Cops--last thing I need now. Shaking his head, he turned away, and the weariness claimed him. He almost staggered. Halfway up the stairs, he heard the office door creak open, and a woman's voice lanced out, shrieking in Italian.

I need time. Her screams scalded his back as he climbed. I'm so close. Can't let anything stop me now.

Stupid, stupid fool! Only when her stomach muscles finally unclenched did she realize how tense she'd been. Idiot! She pounded her hands on the steering wheel. What's wrong with me? The tires heaved over cracked asphalt, and the jeep's worn shocks creaked like mattress springs. I let him do all the questioning!

An icy wind prowled the streets, rattling windows and doors and rustling through evergreen hedges. The town seemed truly dead.

She'd gotten nothing from him. The jeep swerved through an intersection. Nothing! He had controlled the interview from start to finish. Except for those first few seconds when he'd looked