Archer Mayor - Tucker Peak

I glanced over Snuffy Dawsons well-padded shoulder at the snow drifting by out the window. It was falling in thick, light flakes, like goose down meandering earthward after a well-conducted pillow fight.

An avuncular man, Snuffy was the sheriff from the county next door-called Daniel only by his oldest female relatives-and as canny a politician as he was old-fashioned a police officer. He liked things simple and straightforward, or so he said, which put him increasingly at odds with a complex and confusing world. It also prompted him to affect a slow and deliberate manner, which helped explain why my attention was beginning to wander. Hed been standing awkwardly in the woodworking shop attached to my small Brattleboro, Vermont, house for fifteen minutes already, and I still hadnt figured out why.

You sure you dont want some coffee? I asked for the second time. I have a fresh pot in the kitchen.

He looked around at all the tools Id lovingly, even compulsively, hung on several Peg-Board sheets along the walls. They were almost like a museum display, they were so tidy. A keen observer might have ventured that such neatness implied more show than action. And it was true that the shop was more a personal escape valve than it was some master craftsmans studio. I was happy enough to be what my brother called a wood butcher.

Howre you liking your outfit so far, Joe? Snuffy suddenly asked.

The outfit was the Vermont Bureau of Investigation, or VBI, a new statewide detective squad drawn from the best officers of every law enforcement agency in Vermont-previously a plainclothes function belonging exclusively to the state polices Bureau of Criminal Investigation, or BCI. This new, more democratic, seemingly reasonable configuration, created by the legislature just one year ago, had caused some serious ripples across the law enforcement community. It had provoked deep resentment from the state police, whose BCI officers were now restricted to more localized coverage areas, and had to hand over their major crimes to VBI.

I like it a lot, I told him, absentmindedly running a piece of sandpaper along some wood Id just cut out on the table saw. People are still getting used to us, but weve gotten high marks from the ones weve helped. Is that why youre here?

But he wasnt being rushed. I heard the state cops werent too happy.

I repressed a sigh, irritated both by the familiarity of the topic, and that it was being voiced in this one place of retreat. I hadnt done much woodworking since I was a kid on the family farm upstate, but once my brother Leo made me a gift of our late fathers refurbished tools-right after Id moved in here-it had become a reborn passion.

Some are, others arent. If any of their detectives want to go back to doing statewide major crimes, they can sign up and join us, and keep their bennies intact. Not that thats any secret-most of our agents are ex-troopers, anyhow. My bet is the majority of bent noses either belong to people who dont know what we do, or who were turned down when they applied. We are tough to get into, as we should be.

I didnt state the obvious, that the additional rub was the perceived affront of it all-that the VBI was proof that the BCI wasnt capable of doing its job. In fact, the opposite was true. BCI had been so successful the politicians had merely opened up the opportunities it offered to a wider pool of qualified people.

Snuffy didnt look overly impressed. Police officers are a conservative bunch. The test of time is what they use to tell a good idea from a bad one-and we hadnt been around nearly long enough.

I suppose, he said vaguely, idly running his finger through a thin film of sawdust on the table saws otherwise gleaming black surface.

I figured Id now fulfilled my social obligations. It was Saturday, and despite Snuffys having driven so far for whatever reason, I was eager to get back to what Id been doing. So, you got something on your mind, or are you just running away from your paperwork?

He smiled and shook his large, close-cropped head. Nah. I either dont do it or I give it to somebody else. I just wanted to run something by you-sort of to be polite, you know?

I wasnt sure I did, but I nodded to keep him going now that hed finally gotten started.

We had a burglary at Tucker Peak last night-one of the condos. The owner had a watch stolen and a bunch of other stuff. We spread the word as usual, but its probably a little early yet.

He paused as if expecting a response. For lack of options, I played straight man. Nice watch, huh?

He raised his eyebrows. I had apparently done well. Oh, yeah. Twenty thousand dollars worth.

I whistled. Jesus. What else did he lose?

Some jewelry, plus the standard portable stuff: a small TV, a cordless phone, a couple of radios, some silverware. About thirty grand total, but it was the watch that turned his crank.

Another lull, another nod from me. Too bad.

Yeah, well. He said he wanted you guys in on the investigation.

That caught me by surprise. I put the piece of wood down on the bench before me. No kidding. He asked for VBI by name?

Snuffy frowned slightly. Yup. Said he was a friend of the governor-wanted the best of the best, not a bunch of Deputy Dawgs.

He stopped again, but this time I knew he was fishing for more than an encouraging head nod. You tell him to eat shit? I asked.

He laughed, obviously pleased with my response. Not in those words, but yeah, sort of. What pissed him off is that one of my men moonlights as security for the mountain, which made the rent-a-cops and us look like one and the same. That was after he implied the security people might be in cahoots with the crooks. Real jerk.

He hesitated briefly and then ruefully admitted to his credit, Not that its not possible-in theory, anyway.

I dusted my hands on my jeans. Well, hes out of luck. Thats not how we work.

His eyes narrowed. This below you?

No, I answered pleasantly. Its felony theft-we handle that. But we only come in when the home turf agency invites us.

That wasnt a hundred percent true, of course. The VBIs charter allowed it more room than that. But I wasnt about to ruin a good mood for no reason-Snuffys presence here spoke for itself.

What if he does call the governor?

I shrugged. Same answer. Were a support service, not a lead unit. You dont want us, we dont come. If we do, though, I should add that we come equipped with our own prosecutor, especially assigned to us from the AGs office. You know her-Kathy Bartlett-tough as nails, been there for years, and makes the lawyering end of any problems we run into fast and efficient, always a plus if you need legal advice in the middle of the night.

He mulled that over as I added, And we always report to whoever calls us in-no separate press conferences, no leaks to the media. Just like we did in Stowe last month.

His expression showed he understood the reference. Our last big case had been under Stowe police aegis, and our profile had been so low most of the public hadnt even heard about us. Law enforcement had, though; wed made sure of it.

Okay, Snuffy said, but he didnt sound elated.

This theft the only thing you got going?

Hardly, he answered. Just the latest in a string of burglaries, and the worst. And then theres a bunch of tree-huggers bitching about new developments planned for over there, too. Tucker Peaks become a pain in the ass.

You dont have any leads?

Nah, and Im stretched for coverage.

I chose my phrasing carefully. Tough spot-tight on manpower and a potential conflict of interest if the victims right about your deputy.

The victims full of crap. I already looked into that. I cant swear the security outfits clean, but my guy is.