The Killing Moon: A Novel

The police department budget was a joke. Black Falls was a piss-poor town struggling to afford Bucky and Eddie full-time. No money existed for their uniforms beyond Tshirts and ball caps; no paid vacations for anyone; no overtime and no paid details. Bucky and Eddie were the only ones who rated health insurance coverage, which both of them had declined, opting to leave their contributions in their paychecks, their salaries measuring out to a measly $7.85 hourly wage.

But there were other advantages to running a town. A smart cop could more than make up for the pay discrepancy on the side. That was where the real benefits of the job were: out on the fringe.

The patrol cars were puttering '92 and '93 Fords. Bucky's had more than 140,000 miles. And since February they had been paying to gas up their own vehicles. They already bought their own weapons and ammo. And anything that broke inside the outmoded station was theirs to repair.

But then Maddox swept back to town, and old man Pinty strong-armed his fellow selectmen, somehow finding enough money in the budget to hire on another thirty-six-hour-a-week cop with no qualifications whatsoever. Because Maddox was a legacy, because the man's father had been Pinty's partner once upon a time and, oh yeah, had been stupid enough to get himself killed in the line of duty in such a sleepy town as this.

That Maddox was Pinty's special hire here was a little too obvious. Transparent, the old man trying to hold on to the police force, forgetting that he had retired ten years ago and that his time had long, long since passed.

"Heavey heard Maddox's deer shot," Eddie announced to the others. "Dumb cluck thought the gun went off in his own backyard. Wants round-the-clock surveillance."

Bart Stokes, the fourth cop, thinner and dumber than the rest, said, "Guy needs to buy himself a pair of long pants and some balls."

Bucky asked, "Where's this deer now?"

Maddox's eyes and mouth were tighter as he responded. "Off the side of the road. Ripsbaugh said he'd pick it up today."

"Mmm," said Ullard, the fifth cop, the joker of the bunch, rubbing his chubby hands together. "Venison stew all week at the Ripsbaughs'."

Stokes said, "Five bucks he mounts the head. Trophy of a retarded deer."

Ullard said, "You'd mount a retarded deer for five bucks."

Stokes reached out to push Ullard as the others laughed. All except Bucky. And Maddox.

Bucky said, "Show and Tell's over. Maddox, you got some forms to fill out."

"Forms?" he said.

"Vehicle damage report. And discharge of a firearm. Tell you what, why don't you write me up a full report on the whole thing."

Maddox checked this with the others. "Write you the report, Bucky?"

"As your senior-ranking sergeant." Bucky didn't like the look he was getting, the attitude. "And for future reference, deer hunter? 'Bucky' is what friends call me. You can stick with 'Sarge.'"

That woke up the others. Bucky was pretty much done waiting for Maddox to get bored of working his three-a-week, twelve-hour graveyard shifts all by his lonesome. Done waiting for him to sell his dead mother's house and move the hell out of Black Falls. If Maddox was entertaining any real-cop dreams and thinking he might catch on here full-time, then maybe he was stupider than Bucky knew.

But no. Maddox was anything but stupid. That was the thing. Maddox was too smart, he was too sure, and he kept things inside. Most of all, he had a knack for being around when things happened. The sort of knack that could get a man into trouble.

Bucky looked at the others. "The parade extravaganza ready?"

Maddox was in the dark about that. No one had told him about the parade plans.

"Ready, Bucky," said Stokes.

The way Stokes accentuated the "Bucky" was exactly what Bucky wanted to hear. Rally these idiots, keep the station house lines drawn. Chase Maddox off the force, and then run this town exactly as he pleased, with no one trying to peek over his shoulder. Better careful than sorry.

Bucky said, "Maddox, you're on parade duty. The rest of us? We got some marching to do."

4

HEAVEY

GAYLE UNFOLDED HER OVERSIZED sunglasses and said to him, "Walter, please. We came for a parade."

And she was right. Here he was snapping at his boys, taking it out on them. The parade was about to start, and why should he let the Pail brothers ruin the town holiday, such as it was?

Because that pair of no-brains had laughed at him.

Neanderthals. With their trademark Pail eyes peering out from deep inside their skulls, tramp eyes, Bucky with his oh-so-clever grin and Eddie with his toothy smile. Menaces. In any other town, those two would be pumping Walter Heavey's gas or mowing his lawn.

Imagine if a protected species like a bald eagle or a spotted owl knew it was protected. Knew it could peck at your eyes and ears and turd on your face and there was not a damn thing you could do—because if you so much as raised a hand against it, into jail you would go. Now give that protected species loaded guns and powers of arrest.