Page 5 of Cyn
A flicker of light caught her eye and her attention swung to the gate where the body was being lifted onto a gurney for transport. She watched as the attendants loaded the body bag then secured it in place. When the van doors closed with the body inside, Cyn turned back to the man. All her fantasies aside, they were going to have to speak.
“Where’s Joe?” she asked.
“I’m Joe,” he said. He had a nice voice, deep and steady. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Then again, he’d only said two words.
“Joe Harris,” she clarified, “the Chief of Police.”
He pulled out a badge and held it up for her as he answered. “I’m the new chief of police.”
Her eyes darted to the badge. Sure enough, he was Joe Harris, Chief of Police of Cos Cob.
“Where’s the old Joe?” This didn’t make any sense. As much as she loved paranormal fiction, people didnotage-regress in real life.
Joe—the new Joe—quirked a smile. “I’m sure my uncle will love knowing he was referred to asOld Joe. But to answer your question, he was home in Florida for the holidays and decided to stay permanently. I was looking for something new, and he recommended me for the job. In case it wasn’t obvious, I was named after him.”
Well, that at least explained the confusion-inducing name issue. But it didn’t explain anything else.
She shifted to put her back to the door so she could better see this New Joe. “You mean to tell me that the town that spent three years debating whether or not to build a stop sign at the corner of Main and Oceanside—and only decided to do so after Ms. Kozinski was nearly struck by a car on her way to feed her seagulls—hired a new chief of police in thesixteen daysI’ve been gone?”
Joe’s brows dipped. “Does someone really own seagulls in town?”
Cyn blinked, then shook her head. “She doesn’t actually own them, but she feeds them every day. Like clockwork, she’s out on the rocks at thirty minutes before sunset. It’s horrifying, by the way. It’s like a scene fromThe Birdsonly with a lot of bird shit. My unsolicited recommendation is to avoid it if you can.”
Joe chuckled although Cyn didn’t know why. It truly was an assault on pretty much every sense when those birds started circling Ms. Kozinski—screaming at each other and defecating with the precision of a strike missile.
“Without the bloodshed, I hope?” he asked.
Cyn shrugged. “It hasn’t happened yet, but who knows what tomorrow will bring. So, you really are the new chief of police?” she asked, still trying to wrap her mind around this sudden change.
He nodded, the rim of his hat hitting the back of the seat. Taking it off, he tossed it on the dashboard and ran his hands through his hair. Through his dark, slightly curly hair. Cyn tried to forget she had a thing for dark-haired men, but it was hard.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m on probation,” he offered with a smile.Aaannndhe had dimples. Not that she thought New Joe would prove to be a difficult man, not if Old Joe had any part in his upbringing, but she’d put up with a lot for a handsome dark-haired man with dimples.
“How long?” she asked.
“Nine months. They wanted two years—”
“That sounds more like the city council I know and love,” she interjected.
“My uncle argued for six months. We settled on nine.”
Cyn wagged her head as she digested this bit of news. The only other time she’d seen city council move so fast was when the governor decided she wanted to have an impromptu weekend getaway in their town. Cos Cob was always a well-tended town, but the city council had it pristine and shiny in less than two days.
“I’m sure your looks didn’t hurt,” she mumbled. She didn’t doubt he was qualified. Joe Harris—OldJoe—didn’t suffer fools lightly, and no matter how much he might love his nephew he never would have recommended him for the job if he wasn’t qualified.
“The average age of the city council is seventy-two, and only half are women. I’m not sure my looks played a part, but thank you for thinking they might.”
Cyn arched an eyebrow at him and shook her head at his naiveté. “Greg and Kevin are gay, and don’t underestimate any of those septuagenarians. Also, word of advice,neverask them—any of them—what they are reading.Fifty Shades of Greyis tame compared to what they read in their book group.”
This time, he blinked. “Really? There’s a city council book group?” His voice sounded both wary and curious.
Cyn nodded.
He stared at her for another beat, then nodded as well. “Duly noted. Now, perhaps we should move on to the matter at hand?” He gestured to her gate with the pen he held. “As soon as I get your statement, you can head home. Why don’t you walk me through what happened?”
Cyn spent the next few minutes going over the events of her day since landing at Logan Airport at one that afternoon. She answered a few questions, including ones about when her driveway had last been plowed, and gave him the name and contact information of her service.
When he was done writing everything down, he raised his head and fixed his gaze out the front window. Following his lead, Cyn did the same. Four people were still processing the scene, although they looked to be wrapping up.
