Kasey started to blush, the red rising in her cheeks standing out against her otherwise pale skin and light-blond hair. “We’re kind of together.”
“Kind of?”
“Well, we are together. But we keep it quiet. Derek doesn’t think his dad would be too happy.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but why would that be? You seem nice enough to me.”
“That’s nice of you to say. It’s a bit of a long story. The short version is that Derek’s dad and my dad don’t exactly get along.”
“Got it. Does Derek know if his dad reported this to anyone else? Maybe the EPA, or MassDEP?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so. We can catch up with Derek later. He gets off work at five.”
“That would be perfect.”
Jordan sipped her drink while Kasey excused herself to see to another customer. When Kasey returned, Jordan had another question for her. “You mentioned the chief and your dad don’t really get along. Can you tell me anything about that? It’s OK if you can’t. Or don’t want to.”
“It’s practically common knowledge anyway, so you may as well know. They went to high school together, and when they were in their senior year, the chief’s girlfriend left him for my dad. The chief thinks my dad stole her from him, but she really just preferred my dad.”
“Wow. And the chief still holds a grudge?”
“Oh yeah. I guess he had given her some sort of promise ring or something. Thought they were going to get married. How many high school sweethearts actually get married?”
Jordan thought about her and Travis. They had come close. Real close. “Few, I guess. So whatever happened to this girl, anyway? I’m sure she never actually married your dad.”
“Actually, she did. She’s my mom, Alice Banfield.”
Jordan choked on her drink. “Whoa. Are you telling me your mom broke up with the chief in high school to date your dad, and they actually ended up getting married?”
“You got it.”
“Did you say your last name is Banfield?”
“Not directly, but, yes, Banfield is my last name.”
“Isn’t the family who owns the marina named Banfield?”
“Sure. It’s my dad’s. Didn’t you know that?”
“It’s starting to come together now.”
5
Chief Brian Foster stood at the gate and pressed the intercom button, eliciting a buzz that should have been heard at the other end. No response. He pressed it again, longer this time. No response. He pressed it a third time, holding the button for at least five seconds. Still no response. The chief paced along the front of the gate, peering in through the gaps in the fencing, trying to spot an actual person. No luck on that front either. The chief pushed the button again, holding it for ten seconds. Nothing. He looked up to where he knew there was a camera. “Open the damn gate, MacGregor. I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”
After about thirty seconds, the chief heard the click of the gate unlocking, followed by the rattling of the chains as the gate opened. The chief climbed into his police cruiser, a Ford Explorer and not the typical Crown Victoria or Taurus, and pulled into the compound. The vehicle skidded to a stop on the dirt, the ground still damp from the recent rain. The chief strode toward the door of what looked like a small office building. He didn’t know much about what went on inside and didn’t really want to, as long as they controlled their shit.
The door to the building opened before he reached it, and a tall, slim man came out. He was dressed like some kind of backwoods scientist, wearing tall rubber boots caked with dried mud, knee-length cargo shorts, pockets loaded with crap, and a dirty white lab coat. A pair of goggles pulled up on his forehead completed the look.
“Jesus, Chief, give me a heads-up before you come over. It’s not like we have someone sitting by the intercom waiting to buzz you in. It’s usually just me here.”
“I can come by any damn time I want. You know that. It’s one of the perks of being chief of police. We need to have a talk.”
The man, Drew MacGregor, walked over to the chief and stood in front of him. Towered over him, really. The chief didn’t like to look up at people. It made him somehow feel less in control.
“What’s so important you felt compelled to come up here and interrupt my work?”
“We need to talk about your little dumping event.”
MacGregor’s face betrayed the slightest hint of surprise. So little that most people might have missed it. But not the chief.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t waste my time. We both know you dumped hundreds of dead fish in the lake. Up near Martin’s Point.”
MacGregor tried to deflect the accusation one more time. “Sorry, but I’ve never dumped any fish anywhere.”
“How about we drive out to where I moved them, grab a couple, and bring them back here to compare with whatever you’ve got in that big building over there? Maybe we get one of your bosses to join us. I’m pretty sure I could arrange that.”
MacGregor gave up. “Fine. Yes, I dumped the fish. But I had no choice. I had to do something with them. There were too many.”
“I assume you never had so many to deal with before?”
“Not even close. We were testing something—think of it as a treatment—and we thought we had the right formulation and dosing. So we scaled up the test. We have a big deadline coming up. Anyway, something went wrong. They all died. I guess I panicked. I figured if I dumped them in the lake, no one would care. Dead fish must show up now and then.”
“Now and then? Sure. But by the hundreds? Never. You’re fucking lucky it was my son who found them, otherwise you’d be in deep shit.”
MacGregor hung his head. “Sorry. I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Next time you have a problem, don’t think. Call me. Got it?”
“Yes. Is that all?”
“Mostly. You mentioned something about a treatment. Is there anything specific I need to know about what you do up here? Just in case you have another incident?”
MacGregor’s embarrassment evaporated. “Sorry, but that’s highly confidential. I signed an agreement to keep my mouth shut about what we do. I can’t tell you more than I already said.”
“Don’t go acting like some hotshot. Remember, I’m supposed to keep an eye out to protect whatever the hell it is you guys do up here. And you know who I’m doing that for.”
“Yeah, I get it. But you don’t have to worry about what happens here. Your job is to make sure that ‘whatever the hell’ we’re doing goes unnoticed.”
“I know my damn job. Just keep your shit on this site. I don’t want to see it in the lake or anywhere else.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about from me.”
“I better not.”
6
Activity at the bar was picking up as boaters transitioned from the water to land. Jordan had about an hour to kill before Derek would be available, so she strolled around the marina grounds.