Elmore Leonard - Maximum Bob

“Battery on a police officer, that’s a third-degree five-year felony, any way you look at it.”

“You like sending people away?”

“It’s what I do.”

“Yeah, but do you like it?”

He took his time, maybe thinking about it. He didn’t look like a guy who shot alligators or collared offenders. He looked like… a nice guy. He said, “If I didn’t like it I wouldn’t be here.” And asked her, “You know where Dale was the night before last?”

“With his uncle. They got home about nine.”

It seemed to surprise him. “You sure?”

“I was there. You know his uncle, Elvin Crowe?”

She watched Gary stare at her as though the name was familiar, one he’d seen or heard recently. He had nice eyes. She liked blue eyes after seeing brown ones most of her life. His were a deep blue. She didn’t care too much for those pale, light-blue ones, killer eyes, the kind Keith had. Gary had a file folder open now, reading a Department of Corrections printout that listed the names of offenders who’d recently gotten their release. The one he had mentioned. The list went all the way down the page, names coming out of the forty prisons and correctional facilities in the state of Florida.

The other night at Dale’s house Elvin offered her a beer. If she wanted something else he’d send Dale to the store for it. Elvin polite, talking Southern to her in that syrupy way, Dale not saying a word. She told Elvin no thanks. No socializing with probationers. She told Dale she’d see him tomorrow and got out of there. Stopped by yesterday, he wasn’t home and hadn’t called the office. She had spent most of today looking for him, asking around.

“Elvin Crowe,” Gary said. “I remember Elvin, shot a guy out on the Turnpike. He’s one of yours?”

“One of seventy-three or seventy-four.”

“If Gibbs sent him up…”

“He did,” Kathy said.

“Then he fits the profile. Both of them. Dale and Elvin.”

“Everybody fits your profile,” Kathy said.

He smiled and it surprised her. She had him down as an achiever, a guy who took his work very seriously. He was so neat. Look at his desk. But the smile was real.

He said, “I try to keep an open mind. Everyone’s dirty till they prove they aren’t.”

No smile now, playing with her. He was quite a nice-looking guy. She liked his eyes, she liked his mouth too, his hair… She said, “You’ll love Elvin. Wait till you meet him.”

“I like them both. You know where they went that night?”

“They said they took a ride.”

“Out to the Glades by any chance?”

“Palm Beach.”

“No alligators in Palm Beach. Or not the kind I have in mind. I still like your two guys. When do you see them again?”

“I have to check on Dale every day. Four to go.”

“He’s behaving himself?”

Kathy hesitated. “I haven’t seen him since the other night.”

“That puts him in violation, doesn’t it?”

“He’s already facing five years.”

Gary raised both hands. “He’s yours. You don’t want to violate him, don’t.”

“I leave here, I’ll stop by their house.”

“Elvin lives there too?” Gary looked down at his sheet. “I have a Belle Glade address for him. If he’s from out there, I imagine he knows something about alligators.”

“I have to go,” Kathy said, and got up.

“I wouldn’t mind tagging along, but I have to be somewhere at five.”

She didn’t want him along anyway, not if she got a chance to sit down with Dale, find out what he was thinking. Still, she said, “That’s too bad. You might’ve had a chance to meet Elvin.”

He smiled, just a little. “You want to see if I can handle him, don’t you?”

Kathy shrugged, trying to look innocent. “Why would it be a problem?”

He got up from the desk saying he’d walk her out.

He did have a gun and had shot an alligator. She saw the Beretta as he slipped on the jacket of his navy-blue suit, his shield pinned to his belt. Now the gun was hidden and he could be a young slim-cut executive. He put on sunglasses. She said, “Pretty cool,” and meant it, head to toe.

Walking along wide yellow hallways he became a tour guide talking in a quiet tone about forensics, serology, the use of lasers in latent-print detection, not his areas but he knew things and was probably a very good cop. She mentioned her brothers, Tony and Ray, into Miami street life and dope busts. Freeze, motherfuckers. Do you ever say that? He said, I think I have. What was she trying to do, talking like that? They passed a workout room and he asked if she was into aerobics, any of that. She said no, but my ex-husband ran five miles every other day while I cleaned the bathroom. He smiled but didn’t ask any questions or say if he was married or not. Or if he worked out. In the lobby a uniformed captain, crew cut, white body-shirt stretched over his belly, said, “Sergeant?” almost past them and they stopped. “I believe you could use a haircut there.”

Gary said, “Yes sir, I’m getting one today. You know I always try to meet your expectations.”

Was he serious?

Kathy wasn’t sure. Maybe the captain wasn’t either the way he stared at Gary, not saying a word. Then gave them a nod, walked on, and they went through the entrance, Gary holding the door for her. They stopped on the walk leading to the parking area and he said, “Well,” facing the sun behind Kathy and squinting a little.

She said, “Were you putting him on?”

“Who, the captain?”

“You always want to live up to his expectations.”

“He believed me.”

“Sure, what’s he going to say? Listen, you want a haircut, I’ll give you one.”

“You know how?”

“I used to cut my brothers’ hair all the time. I could do yours easy.”

“Yeah, when?”

“Call me at the Omar Road office, make an appointment.”

He was smiling again. “I’m glad we got a chance to meet.”

“You don’t remember the other time?”

Look at his face. He had no idea what she meant.

“Last August in Riviera Beach, by the projects. You were driving that unmarked Dodge everybody knows is a cop car. I’m walking along…”

He was smiling now.

“You pull over and stop me, want to know if I’m looking for crack or already bought some. You ask to see my ID…”

Now he was nodding. “Your hair was different.”

“It was long then. You couldn’t believe I’d go in that neighborhood alone, to check on one of my guys.”

He said, “ That’s where it was. I’ve been racking my brain.”

“I could see that,” Kathy said, beginning to realize it was hard to tell with this guy when he was sincere and when he was laying a line on you. Maybe not so different from her brothers. “Well, it’s been nice.”

No ring. Which didn’t mean anything. Maybe divorced and took his kids to the beach on weekends. There were all kinds of those around. Walking away she turned back and said to him, still in the same place watching her, “You didn’t tell me, do you work out?”

“Once in a while.” He raised his hand and said, “I’ll see you.”

Yeah, but when?

Leanne had said to Bob Gibbs, “When you get home from court today I’ll be gone. I’ll call one of my dear friends”-meaning some nitwit from one of her psychic workshops-”to drive me to the bus station.”

That was the extent of her intelligence, to leave here you took a bus. He told her, trying hard to sound dejected, to take the car if she wanted. Long as he had his pickup.

She said, “Don’t ask if I’m going to the Spring or back to my roots, Luna Pier, Ohio, because I won’t tell you.” She said, “I may not ever speak to you again, Big, for what you did. I hope someday I will have it in my heart to forgive you, but I can’t promise.”