Circle of Influence (A Zoe Chambers Mystery) (2 page)

Dark memories she’d tried to forget for years swirled too close to the surface. “He’s a beast.” Zoe spoke the words so softly she didn’t think anyone, even Rose, heard her.

But the look Rose gave her indicated otherwise. “You would know.”

The room quieted except for the creak and scrape of folding chairs as some folks moved to gather in small groups. Others remained in their seats, fuming in silence. McBirney shuffled through a pile of papers on table in front of him.

Zoe forced her thoughts onto a different path. “How are the kids? Allison hasn’t called me for a riding lesson in over two months.”

Rose heaved an exaggerated sigh. “She’s driving us nuts. It’s like she’s suddenly become possessed by the demon hormones. Have you seen her since she dyed her hair?”

“No.” The girl had a perfect long auburn mane. Why in the world would she dye it?

Rose tugged at her own short red tresses. “Black. She’s gone Goth. But that’s not the worst of it.” Rose leaned closer, speaking in hushed tones. “A month ago, we caught her with one of those high school jocks. A senior. And Allison was stripped down to her bra.” Rose shook her head. “She didn’t even seem embarrassed when we busted her.”

“What did you do?”

“Ted tossed Mr. Football Star out on his ass. Then we took the door off Allison’s room.”

Zoe snickered. “Taking away her privacy? That’s capital punishment to a teenage girl.”

“She finally got her door back two days ago. It remains to be seen how long it stays. Oh. Here comes Ted now.”

Rose sprang to her feet, waving. Zoe followed her friend’s gaze. Near the door, Ted Bassi managed to spot his wife’s vigorous flagging. He threaded his way through the crowd, toward them.

“Evening, ladies.” Ted bussed his wife on the cheek before squeezing into the seat next to her. “Did I miss anything?”

“Just Jerry being his usual pushy self,” Rose said.

Ted removed his fogged eyeglasses and wiped them with a bandana. “I saw the ambulance out front. I thought maybe something had happened.”

“Not yet,” Zoe said. “We’re just hanging out here in case someone spills blood.”

“Could happen. The way Commandant McBirney’s been treating my mom lately, could even be me spilling his.”

Rose patted his knee. “You promised to keep your cool this time, remember?”

Ted shrugged. “Did I? I don’t recall.”

Howard Rankin returned with a fresh bottle of water. Zoe noticed he hadn’t brought any for his two compatriots.

McBirney cracked his gavel. “Next order of business.” A smirk crossed his face. “I hereby call for the dismissal of township police secretary, Sylvia Bassi.”

Ted’s chair crashed to the floor as he leapt to his feet. “On what grounds?”

The smirk blossomed into a smug smile. “Theft of township property.”

“
What
township property? My mother’s never stolen anything in her life.”

Zoe spotted Sylvia Bassi near the front, as the white-haired woman looked back at her son. Even from her seat in the back row, Zoe could see the shock in Sylvia’s eyes.

“She stole a computer from the police department.”

“I did not.” Sylvia looked more like the township grandma than the township thief. “It was a junk computer. They told me to dispose of it, so I took it home for Ted’s kids to play with when they come to visit.”

“There. You heard it from her own lips. She admits taking it.”

“But not
stealing
it,” Ted said, his words drowned by the roar of outrage coming from the crowd.

“This is absurd,” Rose said to Zoe over the din. “Why on earth would he…”

Ted and everyone else in the hall were on their feet. Their words crashed into each other so that Zoe could hear nothing clearly. Jerry McBirney’s face was as red as the letters on the exit sign above the door to his left.

Rose nudged her with an elbow. “Look who just walked in.”

Zoe had to weave and bob to see around the people standing in front of her. Just inside the door, Police Chief Pete Adams dusted snow from his black jacket. Her pulse quickened. Tall, rugged, and impressive, if anyone could handle Jerry McBirney’s idiocy, it was Pete.

The chairman also noticed the new arrival. “Chief Adams. I’m glad you’re here.”

You are?
Zoe thought.

The room fell silent.

Pete Adams wore his poker face. The one with those unreadable clear blue eyes Zoe had studied at many Saturday night card games. They’d worked side-by-side in the years since he’d taken over as chief, dealing with everything from the mangled remains of traffic accidents to gunshot wounds to drunks passed out in the street. Theirs was a friendship forged of mutual respect and admiration.

“Take this woman into custody.” McBirney pointed at Sylvia who clutched a tissue to her face.

“I have to get back to work,” Zoe whispered to Rose. In truth, she hoped to catch a moment alone with Pete.

“Uh-huh.” Rose gave her a knowing look. “Say hello to the chief for me. And tell him to trump up some charges against that maggot, McBirney.”

Zoe’s cheeks warmed. So much for hiding ulterior motives from her best friend. She edged her way out of the row, hoping to work her way toward Pete before things got ugly again.

“Now, Jerry.” Pete fixed the chairman with an icy stare. “Why would I want to arrest Mrs. Bassi?”

“I want her charged with theft of township property.”

“I’m sure we can talk about this.” Pete’s gaze swept the room, and most of the irate citizens lowered into their chairs.

“There’s been enough talking. Arrest her. Arrest her now.” McBirney’s face had deepened from red to almost violet.

Pete looked weary. “Jerry—”

“Chief, must I remind you that you work for me? You follow my orders.”

Zoe froze. The ugly history between Pete Adams and his new “boss” was no secret. Besides, throwing Sylvia Bassi in jail would be akin to arresting the police department’s own personal den mother.

A soft rumble rolled over the room, as everyone murmured their theories and waited.

Then Pete stepped over to Sylvia and extended a hand. “Let’s go outside and talk,” he said with a sad smile.

McBirney stood rooted in his spot behind the table and appeared on the verge of stomping his foot. “I want her arrested,” he boomed.

Pete fixed him with a steely stare and replied in a voice only those closest to him could hear. Whatever he said finally silenced McBirney.

Sylvia took Pete’s hand and climbed to her feet. The police chief helped her with her coat and then held the heavy steel door for her. As soon as it drifted closed, the room erupted.

Zoe maneuvered her way along the wall. Noise and heat pressed in on her from all sides. When she slipped through the same doors that Pete and Sylvia had used moments earlier, the quiet and the cold of the January night offered glorious relief. The ice pellets had softened into white snowflakes. They drifted through the night air, dusting the grass with a powdered sugar coating and melting where they fell on salted concrete.

Zoe spotted Pete helping Sylvia into the passenger seat of his SUV. She broke into a jog toward them.

“What’s going on?” Her breath created a cloud in front of her face.

Sylvia was twisting the strap of her purse. Pete met Zoe’s gaze and rolled his eyes. He turned back to the older woman. “So tell me about this computer. And why is Jerry McBirney in such an uproar over it?”

“I’ve always been responsible for getting rid of the junk the township doesn’t need anymore. That computer’s been sitting in the back room for two years—since you replaced them with the new ones, remember?”

“Did the supervisors say you could take it?”

“No.” Both Sylvia’s lower lip and voice trembled. “But I didn’t think I needed permission. No one had touched the thing in ages.”

The doors of the township building burst open. Four people and a few hundred angry voices spilled out into the snow. Ted Bassi led the brigade toward the police vehicle. On his heels marched McBirney and Matt Doaks. Bringing up the rear, wobbling on stilettos not designed for rural townships’ gravel parking lots, came Elizabeth Sunday, the well-dressed township solicitor. Zoe had only seen the woman sitting in meetings, calm, reserved and arrogant. In a stylish, but lightweight jacket—too lightweight for any winter night, but especially this one—and the kind of shoes that Zoe had only seen on television shows about cities and sex, Elizabeth Sunday had stepped out of her element the moment she’d exited the building.

“Terrific,” Pete said with an exasperated sigh. “Here we go again.”

Zoe motioned to two teenagers loping toward them from the opposite direction. “That’s only the half of it.”

TWO

The tall, scrawny boy jogged across the snowy parking lot toward them, holding up his oversized jeans with both hands. Logan Bassi reminded Zoe of the ladies in old western movies, hoisting their skirts and petticoats.

Behind Logan came an equally thin, but somewhat shorter, girl with long jet-black hair. Allison wore a bulky blue and white jacket with the high school’s Blue Demons decal stitched to the front, and her faded jeans were as tight as her brother’s were huge.

“Here come your grandkids, Sylvia,” Zoe said.

The woman leaned out from her perch in Pete’s passenger seat, looking wild-eyed toward the kids.

“Damn,” Pete said with a growl. “This just gets better and better.”

Ted reached the Vance Township Police vehicle first. “Don’t you dare arrest my mother, Pete.”

Huffing, McBirney trudged up behind Ted. “That computer contains vital township records.”

“What?” Sylvia’s voice creaked. Zoe wondered if the flush in the woman’s chubby cheeks was a result of embarrassment or the cold.

“What are you doing with my grandma?” Logan demanded.

And then everyone, except Zoe and Pete, spoke at once. There hadn’t been a mob scene like this in the VFW’s parking lot since the drunken brawl last summer at the Morgan-Platt wedding.

Pete brought his thumb and middle finger to his lips. Knowing what was coming next, Zoe jammed her hands against her ears.

His whistle sliced the cold night air and probably stopped traffic all the way to the far end of town. It also brought a halt to the bickering.

“Look, guys.” Pete struck his take-charge pose, one hand on his hip, the other resting on his sidearm. “We aren’t going to solve any of this tonight.”

McBirney opened his mouth, but Pete raised an authoritative hand to silence him then turned to Sylvia. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to file papers with the magistrate in the morning. You should probably call a lawyer to help you sort this mess out. Ted, do you know an attorney or do you need me to recommend one?”

Ted’s breath hung like fog around his head. “I have one, Pete. Thanks.”

Who else besides Pete Adams could have someone thank him for arresting their mother?

McBirney took a step closer to Pete. “Aren’t you going to throw her in jail?”

“No. I can write her up a citation if you insist, but I’d rather save a tree.”

Elizabeth Sunday rested a manicured hand on McBirney’s arm. “That will do for now, Jerry. The magistrate will issue the arrest warrant, and we can proceed from there.”

McBirney drew in a deep breath. Then he blew it out, reminding Zoe of a deflating balloon. “Fine.” He glared at Pete. “This isn’t over by a long shot.”

“I never expected it was.”

McBirney’s gaze settled on Zoe. The chairman might have been considered attractive by some with his outdoorsman physique and chiseled features, but she only saw pockmarked skin and the deep creases lining his face. And his eyes. Those dark, soulless eyes.

He leaned toward her until she could smell the stale cigarette smoke on his breath. “How you doin’, blondie?” He winked.

Sickened by the breath, the voice, and the memories they stirred, Zoe clenched a fist, fighting a desire to use it on him.

McBirney ambled back toward the VFW with Elizabeth Sunday tottering after him.

Matt Doaks watched them go, but instead of following them, moved closer to Pete’s SUV. 

Logan bent forward next to Sylvia, the bottoms of his baggy jeans wicking moisture from the wet pavement. “Are you all right, Grandma?”

Allison hugged herself against the cold, her eyes darting from face to face and settling on Matt.

“I’m fine, dear,” Sylvia said. “This is all just a big mistake. We’ll get it straightened out.”

Logan’s gaze shifted to Pete. “Can I take Grandma home now?”

Pete nodded.

“I can give you a lift in the ambulance.” Zoe didn’t want Sylvia walking in the cold, especially after the stress of a theft accusation. She turned to Ted. “Unless you want to take them?”

He shook his head. “I’m going back to the meeting. Someone ought to just kill that guy and put him out of my misery.”

“You probably shouldn’t say stuff like that when the cops are around,” Pete said with a crooked smile.

Ted sniffed. “Allison. Go with your brother and grandmother.”

The teenager with the Goth-black hair had wandered over to stand near Matt Doaks. She stared at him with the kind of star-struck, come-hither smiles girls generally reserve for some hot, young movie star. Matt, tall, thin, and rakishly handsome, had a reputation as the local non-celebrity heartthrob. Zoe understood his appeal all too well, having spent a large chunk of her own youth caught in his orbit.

But no father wanted to see his teenaged daughter getting horny, especially over a thirty-five-year-old man who obviously enjoyed the attention. “
Allison
.” Ted’s voice took on that sharp, no-nonsense parental tone that all kids recognize.

“Coming, Dad.” She batted her dark eyelashes at Matt one last time and swaggered toward Zoe, her narrow teenaged backside doing an impressive little bump-and-grind.

“Breathe, Ted,” Zoe whispered.

“I’m going to lock her in her closet until she’s forty,” he said before following McBirney and the lady lawyer.

“I’d like to see that.” Pete chuckled. “You make sure they get home, okay?”

“Yeah.” Zoe dug her cell phone from her pocket. “I’d better tell Earl I’ll pick him up when I swing back around.”

“With this snowstorm blowing in, it’ll be an interesting evening.”

Logan helped his grandmother from Pete’s vehicle.

Pete and Zoe tipped their heads in silent goodbyes. As she guided Sylvia and the kids toward the ambulance, she noticed Matt still watching them.