As expected, Marsha began
sobbing again when Chief Grady arrived at the Mayor’s office. She’d tried,
unsuccessfully, to wheedle out information about her former boss.
“Oh, thank goodness you went straight over, Chief. Is
he…was he...d-d-dead?”
“Now, Marsha, you know I can’t discuss police
investigations with you. I’m only here to get your official statement. Since you
called me, I need the proper paperwork to support my inquiry at the Farmington
residence. You mentioned an email. I’m going to need a copy of that for the
file.
“Oh, I don’t know if I should do that. I don’t think Dale
would want me handing out copies.”
“Dale, huh?”
“Well,
he isn’t the Mayor anymore,” Marsha insisted when Grady cast a curious look her
way. “Saying ‘the ex-Mayor’ sounds so…I
don’t know, pathetic; and he hated being called Mister Farmington. What else
was I supposed to call him?”
“Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me what you call him but
you’re obstructing police business by withholding that letter. I’m sure you
don’t want to impede official police business, do you?”
“I’d need permission from him, unless he’s dead, of
course.” Marsha slyly hinted, hoping to have her curiosity satisfied.
“Well, I guess I can just talk to Bill Sterling since
he’d be your boss now with Dale resigning. I know he’s here, I recognized his
car in the lot. Go ahead and let him
know I need a quick word. I guess that means he’ll find out that you were
faxing resumes on company time and tax payers’ money. Sounds a little like
stealing if you ask me.”
“No, there’s no need to bother Mr. Sterling, Chief.
Here’s the copy you need. I’m sure you have plenty to do without wasting your
time here. Have a good day now.”
Grady chuckled as Marsha
shuttled him out of the office as quickly as possible.
In the privacy of his vehicle, the chief
was able to review the letter of resignation.
The most notable quality, other than citing the council for his untimely
death, was the abundance of misspelled words and grammatically incorrect
sentences but, at least, Dale had the presence of mind to keep it brief. Bottom
line: I quit, you suck, I’m going to kill myself and it’s all your fault. Grady shook his head in disgust. What a waste, he thought grimly. Mayor
Farmington hadn’t always been his favorite person but he hated the thought of
people showing so little respect for the life they’d been granted.
His next order of business filled the pit
of Grady’s stomach with dread. Dale Farmington’s closest relative was still his
wife, Sylvia. She needed to be notified of her husband’s death but, given her
already fragile state, it needed to be handled the proper fashion. Upon arrival
at the hospital, Grady met with Dr. Garrett and they agreed that they would
relay the news together. Surprisingly, she
took the news without the need for additional medication. She cried and
admitted she would need time to grieve but, thanks to her therapy, she did not
feel the urge to harm herself. Both Chief Grady and Doctor Garrett praised her
for working so hard in therapy.
“That reminds me,” Grady added as he wrapped his arms
around Sylvia in a warm, friendly, embrace. “I saw your interview last night,
Sylvia. Sharon and I are so proud of you. You are one of the bravest women I’ve
ever had the privilege to know. It’s an
honor to call you my friend.”
After meeting with Sylvia,
Grady headed to the opposite end of the wing to room 908 to visit Poole. He felt guilty that he hadn’t had the chance
to visit for a little while but it was doubtful that Doug had any comprehension
of time. Much like his last visit, Poole was completely unresponsive; blindly
staring off into the void. His grandmother, Rose, had been dozing in the chair
by Doug’s bed but she was genuinely pleased to see Chief Grady again.
“It’s so good to see you again, Chief,” said Grandma Rose
as greeted him with a hug. “I was a little afraid we might not get the chance
to say goodbye. My children have decided
that it’s not safe for me to stay here anymore. Some development company bought
my house and we’re transferring Dougie to a facility near my oldest boy’s home
in Vermont. It’s a landlocked state so I guess we’ll be safer there. You know,
I’ve spent most of my life in this community. My husband bought the property
before we wed. As the years went by, we built on additions and remodeled. After
my husband passed, I swore I would live here until the day I died. It’s a funny
thing, Chief, do yourself a favor and don’t get old. All of the sudden, your
children will decide they know more than you and they plot and plan behind your
back. Next thing you know, your house has been sold and you’re being bundled up
and shipped off to live with your know-it-all son and his moody she-devil wife.”
She sighed wistfully and shook her head.
“Sorry about that, I shouldn’t have dumped my woes in your lap like
that. You’ve got more than your fair share as it is, Chief.”
“Ma’am, I am so glad I got the chance to say goodbye to
you. You are an exceptional lady. I will miss both you and Doug. I hope he
finds peace when he is far away from here and, perhaps, healing as well. I have
a feeling that you’re getting out at the best possible time. I doubt this place
will feel the same now that so many of our neighbors have left. It’s probably
just my natural distrust of strangers but I suspect that the developer, the one
who has been snatching up every piece of property he can get his hands on, has
his own agenda. Somehow, I doubt it is the preservation of our community that
he cares about so I think you’re probably better off in Vermont. It might break
your heart to see what becomes of our once-beautiful community when it’s all
said and done.”
Rose hugged the chief again
and brushed a lone tear from her wrinkled cheek when he took Doug’s hand and
shook it one last time.
***Be sure to return Monday, May 19th for the next installment of Ocean***
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