As he waited, Decker worked on his excuses, playing with the fine points and the details of what he should say and how he should act. When the big man appeared-bulging stomach leading the way-Decker had not only perfected his defense but had also attained, in his mind, the ideal humble look. A glance at the face, then the eyes-an expression that didn’t confront, yet held some dignity. He held out his hand as a peace offering. The big man took it, pumped it, then nodded for him to follow. The chief went over to the elevator and pushed the up button. Decker remembered that the office was on the third floor.

Merrin was dressed conservatively-blue suit, white shirt, blue-and-brown-striped tie. His platinum hair was slicked back off his forehead, his ruddy face had that wet look of the recently shaved. Underneath Merrin’s belly, Decker could make out the chief’s gun harness-a waist holster.

They strolled through the hallways silently, Merrin waving to his officers and detectives as he passed them. His secretary was on the phone, but he nodded to her as he took Decker into his office, closing the door behind. Because of the expanse of picture windows, the room was chilly, actually drafty in spots. Only half of the glass panes had been double hung. But the nip in the air was offset by the perfume of brewing coffee, sending up an aromatic steam that made Decker’s mouth water. To distract himself, he looked outward, at the rain pelting the hard brown earth of the pathways, drenching the loose soil of the flower beds. The surface of the lake had become pitted silver. The corner suite afforded Merrin a good view of the park. It was not only pretty, but also allowed the chief to take in most of the area in a single glance.

“Coffee?” Merrin asked.

“If you’re taking, so will I.”

“Black, white, sugar?”

“Black.”

He pressed the intercom on his desk and requested two black coffees. A moment later, his secretary came into his office, went over to the gurgling coffeemaker, and poured two cups for the chief-one in his ceramic mug, the second in a paper cup. Why the chief couldn’t go over and pour his own coffee was left to speculation.

“Have a seat,” Merrin told him.

“Thank you, sir.” He waited for Merrin to sit, then followed suit. “I appreciate your seeing me.”

“My imagination, Lieutenant, or do I detect a serious change in attitude?”

“I… believe that’s an accurate assessment.”

“That’s a good start. An even better start would be an apology.”

“I was embarrassed. I was an idiot. Does that suffice as an apology?”

Merrin smiled, his watery blue eyes crinkling at the corners. His mouth held bruised banana-colored teeth. “I accept.” A sip of coffee. “Now, what do you need, Decker? You wouldn’t come here voluntarily eating shit unless you required something in the way of help.”

Decker raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I ain’t as dumb as I look.”

“I’m from Gainesville, Chief Merrin. You know we’re not all that different. Matter of fact, I use it all the time.”

“Use what?”

“The accent,” Decker said. “Whenever I’m with a highbrow-someone I perceive as a slicker-the drawl gets thicker and thicker. The things people try to pull once they hear that twang in your voice.”

“Then you shoulda known better. Whaddaya need?”

“A girl’s been murdered. Brutally.”

“Brutally, yes, but in New Jersey.”

“I think the reason for her death originated here.”

“Go on.”

“Her death was a side effect of her uncle’s murder. And I’m not willing to rule out the family-yet.”

“You want me to investigate the family based on… what?”

“Sir, I don’t expect you to do anything. You’ve got a town to run. I, on the other hand, have a few more empty days to play with. If possible, I’d like the names of the north side kids whom Shaynda Lieber used to hang out with. Maybe she confided in someone outside of her community.”

“I doubt that.”

“You’re probably right. Nevertheless, I’d like to give it a shot.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t give you names. They’re minors. While I feel very bad about that girl’s death, I believe with all my heart that it had nothing to do with Quinton or its citizens. Sorry, Charlie, can’t let you disrupt my town just on a hunch.”

“Well, how about this? Through my wiles and resources, I managed to land a couple of names. Would it get your nose out of joint if I paid them a call?”

Merrin’s eyes narrowed, staring at Decker over the rim of his coffee cup. “What names?”

“Just a few local Quinton kids who were hauled in for possession of ecstasy down in Miami. Correct me if I’m wrong, but some of them might even be eighteen by now.” Decker maintained eye contact as he sipped. “Of course it’s up to you, sir.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t ask how you found out about it.”

“We all have our ways, right?”

“You are one sneaky bastard.”

“Coming from you, I’m sure it’s a compliment.”

“Which ones do you want to talk to?”

“Ryan Anderson and Philip Caldwell. Both of them have reached their majority.”

“What do you know about them?”

“Nothing.”

“Then I’ll tell you something.”

“Please.”

Merrin sat back, eyes on the ceiling, hands resting on his belly. “Every town, every city has its share of bad boys. For Quinton, it’s Anderson and Caldwell-two nasty little pricks who think it’s a hoot to throw shit in their hometown and watch with glee while someone else cleans it up.”

“The parents have money.”

“Yes, they do, and we both know that money can buy a lot of janitorial work. But even money can’t clean everything.” He put the coffee cup down and leaned over. “This stays between the two of us, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Those two have done some edgy things in these parts as juveniles. Things I don’t need to go into. When they came back from Miami-after I heard what happened down there-I put the fear of God into them and into their families. I do b’lieve we came to a mutually satisfactory agreement.”

Decker waited.

“It goes somethin’ like this,” Merrin said. “I don’t poke my nose in their affairs as long as they keep their mess outside my jurisdiction. That don’t mean they can get away with murder. If I seriously thought those two dogs had anything to do with the death of that little girl, I’d have their dicks in a vise so fast, they’d be talking like Alvin and the Chipmunks. But short of the biggies-murder, rape, assault, robbery-I don’t want you messing with their heads. Simply because I don’t want those two bothering me or the fine citizens of Quinton. If that seems selfish, I can live with that.”

“Can I talk to them?”

“No, you may not go to their houses and interrogate them. But if you give me a couple of hours… well, maybe I can set something up here in the station house. Nice and clean and officially sanctioned.”

“More than fair, Chief. Thank you.”

“I suggest that in the meantime you go find yourself a nice, warm restaurant and nurse a long cup of coffee. Or… if your dick needs attention with the wife out of town, go on over to Tattlers and tell them that Virgil Merrin sent you. That way, you can have a good meal and some fine scenery on the house. Tattlers likes to cooperate with the law. It’s in their best interest.”

Decker tried to smile wickedly. “Sounds nice.” He took a calculated risk. “I wouldn’t mind some company. Wanna come with me, Chief?”

Merrin smiled with smoker’s teeth, but his eyes never left Decker’s face. “Now that’s kind of you to ask, but right now I’m backlogged. Another time, maybe.”

Decker nodded. “You got it.”

“Maybe I misjudged you, Lieutenant.” Merrin continued to study the face. “Or maybe I didn’t and you’re being cagey.”

“Innocent until proven guilty. That’s American jurisprudence.”

“Nah, that ain’t American jurisprudence.” Merrin unhooked his holster and pulled out a Beretta. “This is American jurisprudence.”