“Just like that.”
“Even highly skilled construction workers tend to be, shall we say, rough around the edges. This isn’t the first time one of my employees has been extra-jurisdiction, and it won’t be the last.” He placed his hands on the chair’s arms and prepared to rise. “If that’s all-”
“Were you aware McNabb was released from the hospital five days ago with several broken bones in his face?”
The hands relaxed. “I was not.”
Russ waited, but Opperman didn’t seem to have anything else to say. “Don’t you have some sort of basic health requirement for your construction workers?”
“I’m moved by your concern, Chief Van Alstyne. Since you seem so much better informed than I, perhaps you can tell me how Wyler was injured.”
Russ tried to keep the tension out of his voice. “As I said, he assaulted an officer and resisted arrest.”
“And as a result, someone in your police department smashed his skull in?” Opperman shook his head. “Funny. You see it in the news, but you don’t expect something like that in a small town like Millers Kill.” He laced his fingers together and looked straight at Russ. “I hope this is an isolated incident of police brutality. The tourism-dependent businesses in this area can’t afford to have their customers frightened of the very men and women they rely on for protection.”
A scalding cloud of shame and rage surrounded Russ, burning his chest and face, tightening his throat. Clare laid her hand on his arm. “Mr. Opperman, have you met Lieutenant Colonel Seelye? She’s an Army CID investigator.”
Opperman blinked at her. Then looked at Russ. “Are you delegating your work to the clergy these days?”
“It’s a simple yes or no question,” Clare said. “Have you met the colonel?”
“Yes.” Opperman’s voice was short. “I met with Arlene Seelye a day or two ago. She was investigating something to do with the unfortunate Tally McNabb, and she wanted to know what kind of employee Tally was.”
“All right. Thank you.” Clare got up. Russ frowned. He wasn’t certain what she had been after, but he stood with her.
Opperman rose as well. He smiled broadly. “I understand you two are planning to get married.” He captured Clare’s hand in both of his and raised it almost to his lips. “I imagine you’ll be a ravishing bride, Reverend.”
Russ balled his hand into a fist to keep from reaching over and tearing out Opperman’s throat. Clare snatched her hand away.
“I hope you’ll consider the Algonquin for your reception,” Opperman continued smoothly.
“We’ve already booked the Stuyvesant Inn.” Russ’s voice was harsh.
“Now that’s a shame.” Opperman looked at him regretfully. “You’re settling for second best.”
Clare went pale. Russ put his hand in the small of her back and steered her toward the hotel’s entrance. “Come back anytime,” Opperman called.
Walking out into the cold mountain air was like bathing in a clear, clean fountain after wading through muck. “Are you okay?” he said.
“Yeah.” She twitched her shoulders, a movement that became a full-body shiver.
“I’m sorry. God.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“He was playing you. When he almost kissed my hand? He was trying to stir you up.”
“It worked.” He kept his arm tight around her as they descended the steps to the parking lot.
“He knew about Wyler McNabb’s injuries. Before you told him. It’s unlocked,” she said to his outstretched hand.
He opened the Jeep’s door. “What makes you think that?”
She climbed into the driver’s seat and swiveled to face him. “He didn’t ask anything about Wyler’s condition, or about how you knew. The only thing he asked was the one thing guaranteed to embarrass you and throw you off balance.”
“Hmn.” He braced his arm on top of her door and leaned forward. “Why’d you ask him about Arlene Seelye?”
“She’s gone. I went to the Stuyvesant Inn to talk with her, and she had upped stakes. I wanted to know if she’d investigated Opperman first.”
“Gone? Huh. Although if she got a lead on Tally stashing the missing loot elsewhere, there wouldn’t be any reason for her to hang around. Especially at what the Stuyvesant charges for a room.”
“Do you think Opperman is involved? I mean, Wyler McNabb was working for him, then he hired Tally.”
“What, with the theft? I’d like to think so, because I can’t stand the smug sonofabitch. I believe right down to the bottom he got control of that company by killing off his partners.” He shook his head. “That was for high stakes. Huge money. To you and me and Tally, a million bucks would be life-changing, but to a guy like Opperman? It’s a couple months’ salary. Not worth the risk.”
“Shame.” She smiled a little. “He makes such a satisfying bad guy.”
“He is a bad guy. Just not the one we want.”
“Who is, then? Wyler McNabb? Are you going to try to get him back?”
“Extradite him from Iraq? Hell, no. I can’t even imagine what kind of hoops I’d have to jump through for that.”
“Oh, come on. He’s got to be in on the theft.”
“Agreed. Unfortunately, it’s not my case. It’s the army’s. If Seelye wants him, she can try to reel him in. He’s left town, and she’s left town, and if there’s a merciful God-”
“There is.”
He smiled at her. “Then Quentan Nichols will also have left town. Let ’em all chase their money somewhere else. We’ve got more important things to do.” He kissed her, slow and easy, an apology for mixing her up in this business. Pulled away and looked at her, her lips parted, her eyes half closed. He kissed her again, harder, wrapping one hand around the back of her head, the other tracing the barrier of her collar until he found the tiny button in the back. He twisted, tugged, and her neck was bare.
“Smooth,” she gasped, as he put his teeth and tongue to her throat. The sound she made jacked him up even higher. Beneath his coat, she clutched at his shoulders, his chest, his sides. Even through his uniform blouse and undershirt, the bite of her fingers into his muscles sent electric jolts skittering over his skin. She took hold of his rig, pulling him closer, rattling the baton, clinking the magazine pouch.
“Damn.” Her voice was husky. “This thing is worse than a chastity belt.”
He broke off, panting, hard, and realized they were still in the Algonquin’s parking lot. Any guests looking out their windows were going to see a lot more than foliage. “Shit.” His own voice was pretty far gone, too. “I’m sorry.” He laughed harshly. “So much for discretion.”
She shook her head. “It’s Opperman.”
He reached down to adjust himself. “Darlin’, I can guarantee you it’s not Opperman did this to me.”
“No, I meant-” She grinned at him. “Never mind. Come back to the rectory with me. I’ve got a couple of hours before my afternoon appointments.”
“No.”
“Your mother’s place.”
“ God, no.”
“Your truck.”
He paused at that one. Sighed. “Regretfully, no. Nice idea, though.” He searched her face for a safe spot and settled for kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ve got to get back to the station. Hold that thought.”
At his desk at the end of the afternoon, his vision blurring from the small print the state used on its crime stats reporting forms, his mind kept going back to Clare. Not the good stuff: He packed the image of Clare, nude and in his pickup, into a box labeled LATER . Instead, he thought about her exchange with Opperman. Something about it was sticking in his brain.
Lyle came in without knocking, which made him grateful he hadn’t been sitting there trying to figure out how to fit a mattress in the bed of his truck.