Broken Promises by Joe Perrone Jr

Author:Joe Perrone Jr.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, mystery series, Matt Davis Mystery Series, murder mysteries, fly fishing, detective novels, police procedurals
Publisher: Escarpment Press
Published: 2013-08-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

Rick handed me several sheets of paper and gave me one of his patented “looks.”

“What’s the look for?” I asked my patrolman.

“Oh, nothing,” he sighed. “Honest. I was just thinking how useless those lists probably are.”

I quietly scanned the names of the VFW and American Legion members and had to agree.

“Unless I’m wrong,” continued Rick, “we can’t just go calling on those people and ask to see their guns. Am I right?”

“Right, as usual,” I replied.

Rick was absolutely right. The courts took a dim view of “fishing expeditions,” and if we started bothering these folks without probable cause, that’s exactly what we would be doing.

“Thanks, anyway,” I said. “Maybe I’ll find some use for them down the road.”

“Not a problem. Anything else?”

“What about the note on the back of the flyer? Any luck with prints?”

Rick hesitated, his eyes gazing at the ceiling.

“What is it?” I asked.

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” I replied. “I should have figured as much. Guess it’s not my day to buy a lottery ticket, huh?”

Rick shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

I stuffed the two lists into a desk drawer. I didn’t really know why I had asked him to get them in the first place—except for the fact that I had absolutely nothing to go on in the McFarland case and was desperately grasping at straws.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After Rick had gone, I put in a call to the mayor. I wanted to know what was happening with the wind turbine deal. What he told me came as a complete shock.

“So, you mean to say that you’re actually on board now with Tony and his group?” I said, holding the receiver away from my ear. Harold’s voice had been so loud when he first got on the phone that I thought he was going to burst my eardrum. All he kept shouting was, “Matt, you should see that movie! You’ve got to see that movie!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I’d already seen the documentary—and read dozens of articles, too. I knew all about the constant noise, the Doppler effect in winter, and the possible fire hazard the behemoths posed. In fact, I knew exactly where I stood on the subject of wind farms. What I hadn’t known, up until that moment, was where Harold stood. Then I knew.

The truth be known, I figured he probably had his hand deep in the pockets of the developers. It was a refreshing surprise to find out I’d been wrong—maybe. It didn’t matter. He was against them, and I was with him one hundred percent.

“So what are you going to do about it?” I asked. “You certainly can’t expect me to get involved. This thing is too political, and politics are the last thing I want anything to do with.”

By now, Harold had calmed down a bit. “Relax, Matt. I’ll handle the politics. I’ve got everything under control.”

I doubted that.

“I’m arranging with Tony for the rest of the members of the Council to see that movie.

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