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them. The older woman never jumped on them about talking because they only passed remarks back
and forth during lulls in the operations, but she did like them to pay attention on the job. She would
know what they did anyway because everything was recorded when they were working. Maddie would
be diplomatic about it, though.
Winnie smiled as Maddie passed. A message from the police officer responding to the wreck
was just coming in, requesting a want and warrants on a car tag. She turned back to her console and
began typing in the numbers.
IT WAS A BUSY NIGHT. There was an attempted suicide, which, fortunately, they were able
to get help dispatched in time. There were assorted sick calls, one kitchen fire, several car versus deer
reports, two domestic calls, a large animal in the road and three drunk driver reports, only one of which
resulted in an arrest. Often a drunk driver was reported on the highway, but no good description of the
vehicle or direction of travel was given and it was a big county. Occasionally, an observant citizen
could provide a description and tag number, but not always. Unless a squad car was actually in the area
of the report, it was difficult sometimes to pursue. You couldn t pull an officer off the investigation of
an accident or a burglary or a robbery, she mused, to go roaming the county looking for an inebriated
driver, no matter how much the officers would like to catch one.
At break, she and Shirley worried about the assault on Rick Marquez.
I hope he s not going to be attacked again, when he goes back to work. Somebody wants this
case covered up pretty badly, Shirley said.
Yes, Winnie agreed, and it looks like this is only the tip of the iceberg. We still have that
mangled murder victim in our county. Senator Fowler s hired help told Alice Jones something about
him and the poor woman was murdered in a way that made it look like suicide. Now there s an attempt
on Rick, who s been helping investigate it.
He s lucky he has such a hard head, Shirley said.
And that his partner went searching for him when he didn t turn up to look at some paperwork
she d just found. Yes, I heard about that from Keely, Winnie said. Sheriff Hayes, she added with a
grin, is Boone s best friend, so they know more than most people about what s going on. Well, except
for us, she added wryly. We know everything.
Almost everything, anyway. You know, we used to live in such a peaceful county. Shirley
sighed. Then Keely lost her mother to a killer who was friends with her father. Now we get a murder
victim dead in our river and his own mother wouldn t recognize him. This is a dangerous place to live.
Every place is dangerous, even small towns, she replied with a smile. It s the times we live
in.
I guess so.
They had homemade soup with cornbread, courtesy of one of the other dispatchers. It was nice
to have something besides takeout, which got old very quickly on ten-hour shifts. The operators only
worked four days a week, not necessarily in sequence, but they were stress-filled. All of them loved the
job, or they wouldn t be doing it. Saving lives, which they did on a daily basis, was a blessing in itself.
But days off were good so that they had a chance to recover just a little bit from the nerve-racking
series of desperate situations in which they assisted the appropriate authorities. Winnie had never loved
a job so much. She smiled at Shirley, and thought what a nice bunch of people she worked with.
KILRAVEN WAS PUMPING his brother for information. It was, as usual, hard going. Jon was
even more tight-lipped than Kilraven.
It s an ongoing murder investigation, he insisted, throwing up his hands. I can t discuss it
with you.
Kilraven, comfortably seated in the one good chair in Jon s office, just glared at him with angry
silver eyes. This is your niece and your sister-in-law we re talking about, he said icily. I can help.
Let me help.
Jon perched on the edge of his desk. He was immaculate, from his polished black shoes to the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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