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He crosses his arms over his chest. “No comment.”
“What’s her name?”
“No comment.”
“Where does she live?”
“No comment.”
The chief notices me and shakes his head. Does he seriously think he can warn me away from protecting my child?
“Looking for me?” I ask and the group whirls around to face me.
“What’s your name?”
“Where do you live?”
“Are you engaged to Fender?”
“Are you pregnant?”
“Are you living together?”
I ignore their questions to ask one of my own. “No one asked me if I was on the high school softball team.”
I swing the shovel like a bat. “State champion three years in a row.”
“You can’t hit us with a shovel!”
“It’s manslaughter!”
“The police will arrest you!”
“I will?” the chief asks. “You’re trespassing in my town.”
“Our town,” Brody corrects him from behind me.
I glance over my shoulder at him to discover he’s not alone. He brought his brothers with him. All of whom are scowling at the paparazzi.
“And mine,” Sage says. She’s standing with the gossip gals who are giving the reporters their best ‘I’m disappointed in you’-looks.
“And mine,” Rowan adds as he comes to stand next to me.
“It’s Rowan Hansley.”
“He won the Super Bowl a few years ago.”
“Rowan! Rowan! Over here.”
“Time for you to leave,” I shout as they begin throwing questions at Rowan.
The police form a line and start down the stairs forcing the reporters to do the same or get trampled upon. When they reach the street, the natives of Winter Falls herd them in the direction of White Bridge.
“The press are protected by the constitution!”
“We aren’t making any laws to prohibit the press,” the chief of police says. “But we do have a law prohibiting those gas-guzzling vehicles.” He motions to where a line of cars are parked on the street. “The tow truck’s on the way.”
“You can’t tow our vehicles,” one of the reporters claims.
