“Come on,” I said.
“We have to go out.” The “gospel truth” according to Lucias Ray was that Denesa Steiner had placed the package in Emily’s casket. He had simply assumed that beneath the gift wrapping was a favorite toy or doll.
“When did she do this?” Marino asked as we walked briskly through the motel’s parking lot.
“Right before the funeral,” I replied.
“Have you got your car keys?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why don’t you drive.”
I had a nasty headache I blamed on formalin fumes and lack of food and sleep.
“Have you heard from Benton?” I asked as casually as possible.
“There should have been a bunch of messages at the desk for you.”
“I came straight to your room. And how would you know if I had a lot of messages?”
“The clerk tried to give’em to me. He figured between the two of us I look like the doctor.”
“That’s because you look like a man.” I rubbed my temples.
“It’s mighty white of you to notice.”
“Marino, I wish you wouldn’t talk like such a racist, because I really don’t think you are one.”
“How do you like my ride?” His car was a maroon Chevrolet Caprice, fully loaded with flashing lights, a radio, telephone, scanner. It had even come equipped with a mounted video camera and a Winchester stainless steel Marine twelve-gauge shotgun. Pump action, it held seven rounds and was the same model the FBI used.
“My God,” I said in disbelief as I got into the car.
“Since when do they need riot guns in Black Mountain, North Carolina?”
“Since now.” He cranked the engine.
“Did you request all this?”
“Nope.”
“Would you like to explain to me how a ten-person police force can be better equipped than the DEA?”
“Because maybe the people who live around here really understand what community policing’s all about. This community’s got a bad problem right now, and what’s happening is area merchants and concerned citizens are donating shit to help. Like the cars, phones, the shotgun. One of the cops told me some old lady called up just this morning and wanted to know if the federal agents that had come to town to help would like to have Sunday dinner with her.”
“Well, that’s very nice,” I said, baffled.
“Plus, the town council’s thinking about making the police department bigger, and I have a suspicion that helps explain some things.”
“What things?”
“Black Mountain’s gonna need a new chief.”
“What happened to the old one?”
“Mote was about as close to a chief as they had.”
“I’m still not clear on where you’re going with this.”
“Hey, maybe where I’m going is right here in this town. Doc. They’re looking for an experienced chief and treating me like I’m 007 or something. It don’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.”
“Marino, what in God’s name is going on with you?” I asked very calmly. He lit a cigarette.
“What? First you don’t think I look like a doctor? Now I don’t look like a chief, either? I guess to you I don’t look like nothing but a Dogtown slob who still talks like he’s eating spaghetti with the mob back in Jersey and only takes out women in tight sweaters who tease their hair. ” He blew out smoke furiously.
“Hey, just because I like to bowl don’t mean I’m some tattooed redneck. And just because I didn’t go to all these Ivy League schools like you did don’t mean I’m a dumb shit.”
“Are you finished?”
“And another thing,” he railed on, “there’s a lot of really good places to fish around here. They got Bee Tree and Lake James, and except for Montreal and Biltmore, the real estate’s pretty cheap. Maybe I’m just sick as shit of drones shooting drones and serial killers costing more to keep alive in the pen than I friggin’ get paid to lock their asses up. J/the assholes even stay in the pen, and that’s the biggest’if of all. ” We had been parked in the Steiner driveway for five minutes now. I stared out at the house lit up wondering if she knew we were here and why.