At that moment, Jack pulled his infamous little notebook from his pocket. From his amused smile, Claire guessed what he was writing in it: that the island's police force was a bunch of amateurs!
Annoyed by his superior attitude, she finally approached the small group and planted herself in front of him.
"Claire!" said Jack. "Perfect timing, I was just about to—"
"Jack," she corrected sharply, "I thought we had settled that between us."
He gave a quick smile, which froze when he saw the icy expression etched on Claire's face.
"I was just—" he began.
"Come with me, if you don't mind," she interrupted firmly.
As she turned to ask Chise to wait outside, she caught her daughter waving at Jack—and saw him kindly wave back at the little girl. This silent complicity infuriated her even more.
"Sweetheart, wait for me here with Gail and Loup. I need to speak with Mr. Hogan privately. It's urgent."
Claire was furious. Maybe her behavior was irrational, but she couldn't contain her anger. Just thinking of all the nonsense Jack had scribbled in his little notebook made her blood boil. The nerve of that man! He'd been on the island for barely thirty-six hours, and he had already formed his own opinion, based on his grim worldview. She marched into her office with energy, and as she sat down, she heard Jack closing the door behind him.
He sat down across from her and fired the first shot.
"Correct me if I'm wrong… but I have the strange feeling you're angry with me."
"Sharp observation, Jack!" she snapped. "I'd like to know why you were subjecting my employees to an interrogation."
"An interrogation?" he repeated, smiling. "What a funny idea! I was merely having a conversation with them."
"Don't play with semantics. I know what I saw… and heard."
Raising an eyebrow, Jack replied:
"I don't know when exactly you started spying on us, Claire. But just so you know, I learned some very interesting things about your community during that conversation."
"I asked you yesterday not to bother the islanders," she reminded him curtly.
"And I replied that I didn't need your blessing or permission to carry out my mission!"
He spoke in a calm, courteous tone—almost playfully, as if trying to downplay his arrogance.
"Besides," he continued, "the people I was speaking with are public officials. So I don't see how asking questions about their work is indiscreet. As a taxpayer, I have the right to inquire about how taxes are being used."
"Such questioning becomes intrusive when it comes from someone with a narrow worldview, especially if the sole purpose is to find a fault. Just so you know, we're perfectly in order here!"
"I don't have a narrow worldview," he protested. "I have a realistic approach to society, backed by my experience and training. And whether you like it or not, your system has security weaknesses."
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" she replied, clearly irritated.
"Fine," he said, opening his notebook. "Let's go over the problems one by one. My conversation with the police officers was enlightening."
"If you're referring to when Gail turned on the siren…"
"Come on, do you really think it's serious to have police officers driving around in golf carts? Chasing down beach ball thieves, maybe…"
He paused, resting his elbow casually on the wicker armrest. Claire noted with fury that he seemed thoroughly amused by the entire situation. Jack resumed:
"If I offended you, I'm sorry and I apologize. But let's get back to the real issue—your island's police force."
"What problem are you referring to, exactly?" she asked coldly. "We have the required number of officers."
"I don't believe so. There should be at least one officer for every five hundred residents, more if the budget allows."
"We meet that requirement," Claire insisted. "The local police includes Gail, whom you've already met, and Billy Muldoon. Both are certified officers. They're also supported by two volunteers, Lou and Ollie, which makes four people total for around two thousand residents."
"Do you have a police chief?"
"Titles aren't important," Claire evaded. "Billy has more seniority than Gail, so he acts as the chief. He reports to me. We meet twice a week to discuss any issues the community might be facing."
"I hope you don't schedule those meetings on weekends, when the island is packed," Jack scoffed. "Do you increase the number of officers when tourists flood the place?"
At those words, he turned to the window and dramatically glanced out into the street before continuing:
"Yesterday at the same time, I could've sped down Island Avenue without a problem. Today, I can't even find a parking spot, the shops are overflowing, and I'm sure I'll have to wait a good half-hour before I can get a table in a restaurant tonight."
"So what?" Claire snapped. "These people you describe as invaders and troublemakers are the very ones who keep this island alive. Without them, we'd all be out of business."
"All the more reason to hire half a dozen extra police officers each weekend—to ensure their safety."
Claire pressed her temples with her fingers, struggling to keep her cool. As if the island had the budget to pay six more officers every weekend! Raising her head, she asked:
"And how exactly am I supposed to pay for them?"
"That's your problem. Request additional funding from the state, bring it up with the senator, raise local taxes…"
Once again, Jack showed his complete lack of understanding of island mentality.
"Raising taxes is taboo," Claire protested. "Most islanders barely pay them as it is—and only grudgingly."
"Are there any major businesses on the island? Maybe you could ask them for funding."
"You've had more than enough time to explore the island since yesterday," Claire argued. "Did you see the headquarters of a single large corporation? Our specialties are clams and grouper! We don't even have a fast-food restaurant here—and we're perfectly happy with that."
"Just as I thought," Jack muttered. "Looks like I'll have to do without my Big Mac…"