Concern mounting within her, CJ walked to the door to peer out at the parking lot, aware that Mac had followed her, but her attention was on the crowd outside. The sun had set while they’d been giving their statements, and either there was something wrong with the parking lot lights or they simply hadn’t come on yet, but she had no problem seeing that there was indeed a crowd gathering. There had to be fifty people out there, and their numbers were increasing by the minute with others coming from all directions.
The most troubling thing to her was that they appeared to have parked somewhere else and walked to the police station. The only reason she could think of for that was to avoid having their license plates recorded by the cameras all over the parking lot, which had night vision capabilities. That didn’t bode well. “Why are they here?”
Captain Dupree’s mouth compressed with displeasure, but before he could respond something crashed through the large plate-glass window on the other side of the door.
CJ was moving before she was even thinking; grabbing Mac’s arm, she rushed him back the way they’d come, and hurried him around the reception desk to take cover as another crash sounded, and then another. She ducked briefly behind the counter herself to get him there, then popped up for a quick look over the floor on the other side of the reception counter, her gaze sliding over the large rocks that had smashed through the glass and were growing in number on the tiled floor as they continued to fly through the now shattered windows.
“What the hell?” she exclaimed with amazement, and then whirled to where Captain Dupree was hunched down behind the counter on the other side of Mac. Stabbing him with accusing eyes, she demanded, “What have you done?”
“I haven’t done a damned thing,” he snapped back at once, but the guilt on his face suggested otherwise.
CJ’s mouth tightened and she asked, “Why were you and Jefferson at the hospital last night?”
That brought a startled glance from the man before he quickly looked away toward the gaping holes where the windows used to be. The number of rocks flying in were slowing now. Either the crowd had expended their anger, or they’d simply run out of rocks.
Captain Dupree’s mouth compressed and it was Mac who answered. “While at the hospital waiting for you I overheard some nurses saying that Jefferson beat the hell out of a couple of teenagers and put them in the hospital,” Mac announced quietly. “One’s in a coma with possible brain damage, and the other has a broken cheekbone, jaw, and clavicle.”
“Christ,” CJ growled, turning on Dupree. “Is this true?”
“Jefferson’s a good cop,” Dupree said, but she noticed that he didn’t sound as certain of that as he’d been during her previous conversations with him about Jefferson. He’d been a staunch defender of the man during their phone calls, informing her that he’d come with the highest recommendation when he’d hired him and had never had an incident like this. But it seemed to her that some of his faith in the officer had been shaken by this latest incident. Still, he frowned and added, “Jefferson said those boys were looking for trouble, started wailing on him and he defended himself. He was injured too,” he added defensively.
“He has a bump on his forehead and a black eye,” Mac said when CJ turned to him in question. Grimacing, he then added, “The nurses were of the opinion that he gave it to himself to be able to claim they attacked him. Apparently, the kid who’s still conscious said he hit him to get him off of the other kid before he killed him, but that he hit him in the kidneys, not the face.”
CJ cursed, and said, “Oh, for—”
“What’s happening?”
That question had CJ snapping her mouth shut and glancing around to see that Decker and Bricker had joined them in hunkering down behind the counter. So had the remaining police officers at the station. But while Mac’s two bodyguards were behind her and Mac, the officers were stretched out along the counter, crouched down, looking to their captain, their hands on their guns.
Eyeing them with concern, she said, “The citizens of Sandford are displaying their displeasure with their police captain.”
“Me?” Captain Dupree said with amazement. “I haven’t done a damned thing.”
“No, you haven’t,” she agreed. “You should have relieved Jefferson of duty pending the investigation after the Keith Kaye incident. Instead, you kept him on and let him hurt two more people.”
“You don’t know that he hurt anyone,” he insisted, but he was avoiding her eyes as he added, “Jefferson is a good cop.”
“Your expression belies your words, Captain. So why are you defending him? What is he? Your illegitimate son?” she asked impatiently.
“Of course not,” Captain Dupree snapped, but then grudgingly admitted, “He’s my son-in-law.”
CJ’s head went back slightly at the words and her eyes widened with dismay. “Are you shitting me? Is your daughter okay?” When he looked startled by the question, she pointed out, “Cops who abuse their power and position on the job are usually abusive at home too, Captain. Surely you know that?” When he frowned but didn’t respond, she asked, “Any changes in your daughter since the marriage? Sudden increase in bruises from supposedly clumsy accidents, black eyes from walking into open cupboard doors, stuff like that? Or does she wear long-sleeved shirts on even the hottest summer day? Flinch at sudden movements? That kind of thing?”
The captain didn’t respond, but swallowed heavily, concern now wreathing his face.
“Yeah,” CJ said grimly. “So, you’re protecting a guy who’s not only abusing the kids in this town, but probably your daughter too.” She shook her head with disgust and turned to glance toward the broken windows as another rock crashed to the floor, sending the glass skittering across it. Sighing, she muttered, “Let’s hope it doesn’t have the townspeople voting to close the police station and contract the policing out to the OPP like most of the other small towns have done.”
Ignoring his alarmed gasp, she stood abruptly and moved around the counter to approach the door.
“What are you doing?” Mac asked with dismay, hurrying to catch up to her as she unlocked the shattered door. Most of the glass in it was gone now and she’d have walked through it, but a bar across the middle meant she would have had to limbo out and she didn’t have the energy for that just now.
“You aren’t going out there?” Mac asked with alarm as she finished unlocking the door.
“Well, we can’t sit cowering in here until one bold asshole decides to toss a Molotov cocktail in,” she pointed out dryly. “Someone has to talk to these people.”
“Let Dupree do it, then,” Mac growled, catching her arm to stop her. “He’s the police captain.”
“Seeing him would just piss them off. I’m an out-of-towner, so less likely to raise their ire,” CJ pointed out, shaking off his hold. She took another step, but when he stuck to her side like glue, she paused to turn a scowl on him and spotted Decker and Bricker behind her as well. “You should stay here with your bodyguards.”
CJ didn’t wait to see if he’d listen, but opened the shattered door and walked calmly outside and nearly into an oncoming rock. She saw it shooting toward her face, instinctively took a step back into someone’s hard chest, and raised her hands to try to catch or deflect the missile, but a large, male hand was already there, snatching it out of midair before it reached her or her hands.
The sharp thwack as it hit flesh made her glad she wasn’t the one who had caught it. It also made her worry about Mac, but she couldn’t take the time to check on him just then. She had angry townspeople to deal with.
“I know you’re all upset, and I don’t blame you. That’s the reason I’m here,” she said quickly, but was relieved to see that no more rocks were flying toward the building. “My name is CJ Cummings. I’m an investigator with SIU, the Special Investigations Unit, and I’m here to investigate the incident involving Keith Kaye and Officer Jefferson.”
“What about what that bastard did last night to Mark Loop and Mike MacDonald?” someone shouted angrily.
“Well, I just heard about that from Captain Dupree a few minutes ago,” she admitted, deliberately making it sound as if he’d told her willingly. The man had been difficult and obstructive, but Jefferson was his son-in-law. He’d naturally been trying to protect his daughter’s husband. She didn’t think he’d do that anymore and didn’t see any reason to ruin the man.
“Since that incident also involves Officer Jefferson,” she continued, “it falls under my purview and I will be investigating that as well. But obviously I could use some help here,” she said, letting her gaze run over the people in the crowd. “I plan to be at the diner on the corner tomorrow from noon until 2:45. Tell your friends and neighbors that I’ll be there and that anyone who was a witness to either incident, and can help with my investigation, should come down and talk to me. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you all went home. No one will be charged or reported for this incident, but you have to go home now. Let me take care of this.”
For a moment, no one moved or spoke, but then the people on the fringes of the crowd began to back away and turned to head off into the night to walk home, or at least to wherever their vehicles were parked. A moment later, the rest of the crowd turned almost as one and followed, and CJ let her breath out slowly. She hadn’t been sure it would work, and she’d damned near had another head wound to add to the one she’d got in the hit-and-run.
That thought made her spin toward Mac. “Let me see your hand.”
His eyebrows rose, but he held out his hand for her to take a look. The rock was gone, and his hand looked perfectly fine. There wasn’t a mark on it. CJ stared at it blankly. From the sound when it had hit his hand, she’d been sure he’d at least have a bad bruise if not a terrible gash. Sighing, she released his hand and glanced around at the now empty parking lot.