Page 2 of Bone Echo

The thought of the first woman he’d wanted to know better in a really long time almost made him smile. Almost only because his frustration with his daughter overwhelmed all else. Audra Murphy was the principal at the high school and she sympathized with his frustration. The woman had an infinite grasp on the ways and wonders of teenagers. She and Kurt were friends. Had been since he and his daughter arrived in the quaint little seaside town of Camden, Maine.

This new shift to more than friends could be part of his daughter’s abrupt and deliberately challenging choices. But she’d just have to deal with it. He had a right to a life too. But he didn’t really think that was the problem though. Ella liked Audra.

Fact was, the whole damned situation was a mystery. How was a guy supposed to understand the thought process of a teenage girl? Especially one as bright as Ella?

He hunched his shoulders to force the jacket collar up around his ears. Frankly, he supposed he didn’t really have a right to complain. Ella’s recent behavior wasn’t the norm. She rarely pushed the boundaries. The situation damned sure wasn’t a big enough problem to have him taking the booze path again.

He knew all too well the price of the return trip.

He glanced up at the second floor of the house he’d bought sight unseen before they arrived in Camden four years ago. Ella’s window remained dark.

What the hell had she meant staying out until one in the morning like that?

She needed to understand that he was still the boss? Being sixteen entitled her to a driver’s license but it damned sure didn’t give her carte blanche for staying out as late as she saw fit. Clearly she hadn’t been thinking. Rolling in shortly after one in the morning—on a school night at that. He’d been worried sick and madder than hell. He’d driven all over town looking for her little blue 1964 Mustang and hadn’t found her. Then she’d waltzed in as if all was exactly as it should be.

He reminded himself at least once a week that if they still lived in Los Angeles his daughter could be running around with kids who got into a lot worse trouble than merely staying out past curfew. But they weren’t in L.A. anymore and this behavior was totally unacceptable.

He should never have bought that car for her.

Regret hit him square in the chest. He should have made her wait another year. But every damned one of her classmates had a car. Giving himself credit, he had initially said no. She’d cried. And he’d caved. Her mother would have been stronger, but her mother wasn’t here. Another twinge of regret nailed him.

Apparently the closer he got to forty, the stupider and softer he grew as well. Or maybe all the booze from his past life had fried one too many brain cells. Just another reason not to visit the barn, no matter how tempting.

He took one last drag, tossed the butt into the fresh snow and ground it fully out with the heel of his boot. Or maybe it was the smokes making him weak minded. Tough shit if it was. He wasn’t going to quit entirely. Not today anyway.

Besides, at this rate he didn’t have to worry about cancer or emphysema getting to him before his daughter brought on a massive coronary.

He was the chief of police, for Pete’s sake. His daughter was supposed to be setting an example for the rest of the teenagers in town. How the hell could he expect other parents to ensure theirkids honored a curfew when he couldn’t get his own to come home at a decent hour?

Before going back inside Kurt glanced up at the sky. The day, as far as the weather went, was going to be a clear one. No more snow in the forecast for now. Counting this morning’s early snowfall, they had about fourteen inches on the ground already. That was more than enough. He couldn’t wait until spring. Cargo atop roof racks would change from snow skis to canoes. And life would be far more bearable.

After four years living on Maine’s southern coast he should have gotten used to the brutal winters, but for a guy who’d grown up on the west coast that was simply impossible. He felt fairly confident he would never get used to it. Part of him still yearned for the warm sunny climate of California. But he couldn’t go back there. Not after all he’d lost. Too many reminders.

Inside his cell sang out a piercing ringtone. It was quarter to eight, his ever-faithful assistant would want to know why he wasn’t at the office. Not that it was necessary for him to actually tell her. She was like the all-seeing eye, nothing got past her. The only reason she called was so he would know she knew. He was pretty sure that was how she got her kicks. It was the way of things in small-town life.

Stepping back inside, still no sign of his daughter, he slammed the door hard once more. He picked up his cell from where he’d tossed it onto the counter and said, “Morning, Doreen,” without even looking at the screen.

“What time she’d get home?”

The woman should set up shop at the summer carnival. She was definitely psychic. Either that or she had someone spying on him. Considering the way she liked to keep up on the town gossip, he didn’t doubt either scenario.

“Is that any way to say good morning?” He poured himself another cup of coffee, avoiding her question was essential tothrowing the prying woman off the scent of trouble. Something else he’d never had to deal with in L.A. Nobody cared what their neighbors did unless it somehow affected them and they damned sure didn’t dig around in a guy’s personal life for snippets of trouble unless said guy was some sort of celebrity or perv.

“You’re later than usual,” she tossed right back at him. “It’s one of two things, either someone’s house got burglarized, in which case I would have heard about it, or that pretty little girl of yours is misbehaving? My money’s on the latter. I warned you it was coming. Sixteen is a volatile age.”

Damn this woman was good.

He shook his head at the idea that she could teach the FBI a few things about interrogation techniques. “Ella rolled in about one this morning.” He hoped that satisfied her because it was all she would get on the subject. His personal affairs were none of her business.

Yeah, right, maybe if he kept telling himself that he would eventually believe it. His dedicated, however meddlesome, assistant never would. She prided herself on having the lowdown on all the year round residents under her jurisdiction, including her boss. She could start her own gossip rag and never have to work again.

A tsking sound that grated on his nerves something fierce rasped across the line, reminding him that she was still there, and she definitely wasn’t finished yet. “You’re gonna have to rein her in, chief, before it gets out of hand.”

Doreen was seventy-five if she was a day. She was a devout churchgoer who was convinced everyone but her was going to hell anyway. As much as he’d like to tell her to drop it, he knew the woman, she wouldn’t let it go until he had at least pretended to heed her advice. Maybe then he could get on with his life. But that wouldn’t change the fact that he was going to hell in heropinion, which kind of made the whole point moot. Somehow she didn’t see that.

“I’m working on it,” he assured her before taking a long swallow of his coffee. “I’ll be in soon.”

“Hold your horses,” she grumped. “I have an official message for you.”

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