Their receptionist was out of town to attend a funeral for the week, and coffee making had fallen to one of the officer’s wives who was filling in. Tina was a good woman, but her coffee was shit.
He left her smiling and walked back to his office, tossing the file folders onto the top of his desk. It wasn’t his usual practice for him to take work folders home, but the mayor had stopped by yesterday and asked him to look over the proposed town budget for the following year. As police chief of a small town, Wyatt’s job entailed more than what he’d learned at the Law Enforcement Academy years before.
Manteague was one of the few towns in the two counties that made up the Eastern Shore of Virginia that had a designated police force. Sitting near the border between the counties of North Heron and Acawmacke, his town didn’t have a public beach, but there were rental homes and B&Bs near the water and the fishing harbor. Small in size and population, Manteague had resources coming from the nearby hospital that served the two counties. While the hospital was not inside the town limits, Manteague was home to numerous medical offices and local businesses that supported the community’s needs.
Glancing at the time on his phone, he stood with his coffee and headed to the conference room across the hall. Soon, his other officers filed in, and he grinned as three of them carried their coffee mugs, leaving Tina’s husband, Henry, pouring his cup from the office pot she’d made earlier.
Henry Fortune had been an officer in Manteague for fifteen years after serving five years with the North Heron Sheriff’s Department. Rock steady, he was a valuable asset to the town and gave his full support to Wyatt as the Chief. Barrel chested, even more so with his ballistic vest, he kept his silver hair high and tight, making an impressive sight despite being the oldest officer.
Roxie Turner smiled at Wyatt as she walked in, the scent of her caramel flavoring in her coffee wafting by. She’d been with the force for several years, having served with the Air Force military police. She’d recently purchased a home in the area, putting down roots that gave evidence she was here to stay.
Jim Smith’s usual smile was limp as he yawned widely. He and his wife had a three-month-old baby girl who still liked to keep them up during the night. They were both from Virginia Beach, and Jim often said he was glad their families were close by and the grandmothers loved to cross the bay bridge to help out. Tall, lean, his short, red hair was about three weeks past his regular haircut.
Andy Bergstrom followed Jim into the room, sitting next to Wyatt. The youngest of the officers, he was quiet, intelligent, and observant. Wyatt knew that Andy hoped to make the career move to the Virginia Marine Police eventually but never gave evidence that he was simply biding time in Manteague. An asset to the force, he soaked up everything he could learn from the others, offering his best to the town.
The county’s emergency system served the town, and Shawna was the station’s receptionist and served as a local dispatcher for non-emergency calls. Henry’s wife, Tina, was an excellent fill-in while Shawna was out for the week. Excellent other than her coffee making.
“I almost hate to say it, but things have been quiet lately,” Wyatt said, starting the meeting. “I’ll be at the LEL meeting tomorrow in Baytown, but unless something major happens before then, the others claim that they’ve had quiet weeks as well.”
“I heard at the Food Queen’s Pharmacy that new owners have taken over the medical supply store,” Henry said. “I know a lot of people are glad about that.”
“The new owners will have their work cut out for them, getting some of the people in the area to understand that the last owners were crooks and that’s why they got some other medical equipment cheaper than they should have,” Roxie added. “But I agree, it’s good to have that business open again.”
“I’ve got the mayor’s proposed budget for next year on my desk,” Wyatt said. “I just started going over it yesterday. A few weeks ago, I asked you to get a list of anything you thought we needed beyond last year’s budgetary items. Since CarolSue is out this week, you can forward those lists to my email. I know we have some equipment that needs upgrading, but I’ll go through your wish lists and start prioritizing what we need.” Then, looking toward Andy, he asked, “Anything come in over the weekend?”
Andy had been the officer on-call for the weekend and shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I did a couple of drive-bys past the bar, going in once on Saturday night. Talked to old Rob, but he said he’d only thrown out a couple of rowdy college kids with no other problems. We had a domestic with the Cantons again, but this time, they were just yelling and not hitting. Sunday afternoon, the Dollar Store reported some items missing. June was at the cash register and said she’d noticed some teenagers in the makeup section. They didn’t buy anything, but by that evening, she noticed quite a few things taken.”
Brow furrowed, Wyatt peered at Andy. “Did she know who they were?”
“Said she’d seen them around, but it had been a busy day, and she couldn’t remember what they were wearing other than one had brown hair and one had blonde hair.” Rolling his eyes, he added, “I told her next time she had suspicions to call us in earlier.”
“I thought the Dollar Store had security cameras,” Jim said, stifling another yawn.
“They do. They just don’t always turn them on.” Andy looked toward the others, his head shakes now accompanying his rolling eyes.
“Small town. Poor town. Some of these businesses have cameras that are up mostly to make customers think they’re watched.” Looking back down at his agenda, Wyatt continued through several more of the items. “I know it’s been hard on the town’s economy, but now that the vacation season is starting, things will pick up and we’ll be busier. We need to continue to be vigilant.”
“The hotel still has visiting fishermen, and I heard that some of the inns are renting at full capacity already,” Roxie said. Looking over at Wyatt, she continued. “In fact, I heard the Hawthorne house down near you has a long-term rental. Gladys Estes over at the realty office said she heard they were just moving in. She hasn’t met them, though. Said the rental was handled by an attorney’s office.”
“Probably someone renting and getting a tax break all at the same time,” Andy scoffed.
Wyatt had been thrilled to make a down payment on a house when was hired with the Manteague Police Department. He’d only served as an officer for three years in Virginia Beach before the position of chief became available. Henry wasn’t interested, and the mayor thought young blood would be good, so he'd been the chief for the past six years.
His house was an old, large, two-story, rambling structure with good bones, and he’d slowly worked on it. It was at the end of a long road with only one other house nearby. It afforded almost perfect privacy. A long pier out the back over the marshy inlet led to the bay. As far as he was concerned, he had his own slice of heaven.
The Hawthorne house was similar to his, only smaller and one-level, and was owned by an older couple for as long as he had been in Manteague. Last year, Mr. Hawthorne passed away and his widow went on an extended visit with their children in North Carolina. She couldn’t bring herself to sell the house yet, so she’d recently decided to rent it.