Rescue

majestically, their leaves just starting to turn but sheltering the bay windows of the mansions along both sides of the street. The flowerbeds still bloomed in the Public Garden, the touristy swan boats still meandered in the shallow pond and under the bridge, the softball teams still played on the formal diamond at the south side of the Common and the informal ones marked off with bases of whatever was available. Good to be home and feel at home.
    On Tremont Street, I walked up the stairs to my office. Unlocking and opening the door, the heap of mail inside spread out like a canasta hand as the bottom of the door moved over and through it. I gathered the envelopes and went to my desk, jacking both windows a foot to air the place out. I was halfway through the pile when I heard a knock.
    “It’s open.“
    Chief Kyle Pettengill came in, the uniform in a closet somewhere as he wore a tattersall shirt and khaki pants and some kind of moccasins that, like his black Corfams, did nothing to boost his height. The moat of baldness around the forelock of hair wrinkled a little as he hesitated in the doorway.
    I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice. I expected to hear from him, but not necessarily see him, and certainly not so soon. “Chief, come on in.“
    Just a nod. Making no effort to shake hands, Pettengill took one of the two client chairs in front of my desk.
    To keep things light, I said, “Returned your call last week, but whoever answered said you weren’t there.“
    The low, intimate voice. “I know. Been trying to reach you ever since.“
    “I was out of state and didn’t pick up my messages.“
    Another nod.
    I said, “You just took a chance you’d find me in today?“
    Pettengill rubbed his chin. “Not exactly. When I didn’t hear back from you again, I made some calls. Friend of a friend at the airline you flew to D.C. told me when you left Boston.“
    “Little vacation, kind of.“
    “The friend of a friend tells me you stay over a Saturday, the fares are cheaper.“
    I just watched him now.
    He said, “Of course, you just bought your return ticket today.“
    “Your friend of a friend again?“
    “That’s for true. Spend the whole time in D.C., did you?“
    I eased back in my chair. “This leading us somewhere?“
    “Probably.“
    I didn’t say anything.
    Pettengill looked out my window. “Nice view of the capitol dome, there.“
    “I’ve always liked it.“
    The nod. I remembered he did that a lot.
    Then Pettengill resettled in his seat. “Got a call from the state boys down in Florida yesterday morning. Some people connected with a church on one of the Keys died kind of suddenly. Violently.“
    “I didn’t watch the news much in D.C.“
    “That where you got the tan?“
    “Nice weather, I walked most places.“
    “Where’d you stay?“
    I told him the name of the hotel. “Check it out, you want to.“
    “Don’t think I will. Isn’t so hard to slip the bellboy a few dollars, have him muss up the room to fool the maid.“
    I kept my own counsel.
    “I’m going to go on just a bit, Cuddy. Feel free to jump in, you have something to contribute.“
    When I still didn’t say anything, Pettengill looked back out the window. “Seems one of the dead down in Florida was Lonnie Severn’s brother. Officer I talked to asked me to notify Lonnie, so I drove on out there. His truck—that new navy blue GMC you came up to see me about?—that was in his driveway, but he wasn’t in the trailer. I figured it would be a good thing to tell him about his brother before he heard it somewhere else, so I did a little asking around. Seems his neighbors haven’t seen Lonnie for more than a week. One of them—has a hound dog loves to chase after vehicles— remembers going by his place, not seeing the truck but noticing a silver coupe, foreign job, parked kind of funny by this dried-up stream we have. Way the neighbor described the coupe, it sounded a lot like yours. Then next day, the same neighbor notices the silver car is gone, but Lonnie’s truck is back in the drive. Neighbor said he doesn’t believe it’s been moved since.“
    Pettengill came back to me. “This was all about the time you were up visiting, trying to see Lonnie.“
    “We never matched up.“
    Another nod. “I took it on myself to go in Lonnie’s trailer. Wasn’t that much of a trick, somebody’d broken the lock on the rear door. There was a lot of pamphlets and such from different kinds of Christian places.