The Witness

and stood as godfather for their daughter when Cecily was born some eighteen months later.
    He’d seen Russ, a redheaded runt with a face full of freckles and teeth too big for his head, go from grumbling general dogsbody at the pretty hotel the Conroys owned to the buff, compact manager of same.
    His love-’em-and-leave-’em, let’s-take-a-road-trip-to-Key-West friendhad become a canny businessman, a loving husband and a devoted to the point of giddy father.
    But he’d never expected there’d come a day when he’d cast his vote for Mayor Russell Conroy.
    “Why is that the plan?”
    “I’d be good at it.” Russ pulled open the door to the diner, wagged a finger at the waitress as he aimed for a booth. “Bickford’s been good to me. It gave me a home, a living, and more, it gave me Seline and CeeCee. I want a chance at helping it grow—and stay stable, to pump up the tourist trade here and there.”
    “You would be good at it.” Brooks sat back as Kim served them coffee without being asked, and as Russ chatted her up.
    He’d probably been born for it, Brooks realized.
    “Mayor Conroy,” Brooks murmured as he lifted his coffee.
    “Chief Gleason.”
    “Ain’t it a kick in the nuts? We’re the grown-ups. Especially you, Daddy.”
    “Daddy times two, come September.”
    “Again? Really?”
    Pride and pleasure shone on Russ’s face. “As real as it gets.”
    “Hey, congratulations, Russ. You do good work in that department.”
    “We’re keeping it quiet for another month, but word’s getting out.” He leaned forward a bit. In the Monday-morning quiet of the diner, ears were always pricked for gossip. “Seline’s sick as three dogs in the morning. A couple of the other teachers—including your dad—noticed she was, well, we’ll say glowing some.”
    “He didn’t say a word to me, and I saw him for a bit yesterday.”
    “She asked him not to. Your dad’s a vault.”
    “He is that.”
    “So, with me being an old married man and father of one and a bump, I have to live vicariously.” Russ wiggled red eyebrows. “Hot date this past weekend?”
    “I got called in just before eleven to help break up a fight at Beaters. Justin Blake, apparently taking on all comers.”
    “Boy’s a troublemaker.”
    “That plus belligerent, spoiled and still underage. I’m adding substance-abuse problems. His daddy didn’t appreciate me putting his firstborn in a cell.”
    “Lincoln’s an older troublemaker, with the money to back it up. I’m surprised they served the kid at Beaters.”
    “According to all the witnesses I talked to, they didn’t. He shoved his way in, already lit, then got rowdy when they wouldn’t serve him and tried to haul him out. Anyway, Blake dragged himself and his lawyer down to the station.”
    “Doesn’t sound like a fun-filled Saturday night for you.”
    “Or most of Sunday,” Brooks added. “But the kid’s out on bail. He’ll have to go to alcohol school, do some community service, pay a fine and damages. Barely nineteen, and booted out of two colleges, already with two DUIs and more moving violations than I can count. He can’t drive, legally, for another year, but it doesn’t seem to stop him from getting drunk or high, then going someplace else to pick a fight.”
    “Ah, youth.”
    Brooks gestured with his coffee. “We were never that stupid, or that arrogant.”
    “We were pretty stupid, but no, not that. We never got behind the wheel after we got piss-faced on beer we were too young to buy and drink.” Russ sat back, shoved a flop of his carrot-juice mop off his forehead. “You need a Saturday night off, son. You know Seline’s got a list of eligible friends she’s dying to pair up with you.”
    “I’ll kill you first, and as chief of police, I know how to get away with it.”
    “Just saying. Unless you’re still bumping hips with Sylbie.”
    “That’s done. Good and done.”
    “Then—”
    “Actually, I’ve spent some time recently with Abigail Lowery.”
    “No shit?” Eyes bright, Russ edged forward again. “Do tell, and I mean do.”
    “I’ve got to get to work.”
    “You can’t drop that and not follow through.”
    “Let’s just say she’s interesting, mysterious, sexy without trying to be. She’s got a dog who looks big enough and smart enough to operate heavy machinery. And she can handle a Glock.”
    “Then why’s she spending time with you?”
    “I keep getting in her way. I’ve got to get to work. Pay for the