Dead Ringer

Finally O’Bannon huffed an “Oh, really.”

On the night of his arrival, two of the officers had pushed hard for him to handle the call from Lucy. O’Bannon had been one of them. Officer Spitz, the other older officer, had been the other. Lucy sure wasn’t going to tell him the root of the animosity. “What is it with you guys and Lucy Kimbol?”

Again, O’Bannon’s response was long in coming. “Let’s just say Lucy Kimbol is a troublemaker and she has been since she was in high school.”

As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of the bad blood between Lucy and the department, Eli didn’t press the issue. He needed O’Bannon’s cooperation tonight.

Eli drove into town and pulled into the police station lot. The sky had turned a dark gray when he stepped out of his car. Officer Nigel Peterson, a young officer with red hair, was waiting for him outside.

Peterson held up a gear bag. “Camera, binoculars and two-way radios.”

Normally surveillance involved scouting an area ahead of time. Doing the surveillance on the fly meant there wouldn’t be time to set up audio or video equipment. An open area like a park wasn’t conducive to that kind of setup anyway.

Eli slipped into the car with Peterson. The drive to the park took all of five minutes. O’Bannon was waiting there for them. Judging from the jowls and paunch, O’Bannon had to at least be in his late fifties. He had a full head of black wavy hair and a muscular build. Jackson’s car wasn’t in the lot when they pulled in.

A quick assessment of the layout of the park caused the tightness to return to Eli’s chest. Other than a small pavilion with picnic tables and two gazebos, the ground was more forest than park. The landscape provided a thousand places where someone could disappear from view.

A quick scan of the area revealed about ten to twelve people walking dogs, sitting on benches and eating at picnic tables. A couple emerged from a clump of trees. It wasn’t Jackson and Lucy. Her blue sundress would make her easy enough to keep track of.

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