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She nods, but it’s lifeless, so I repeat, “Call 911.”
“Okay,” she replies, her eyes leaving them to find mine. “Okay.” When she hurries into the kitchen, I see the mess this guy is making. Why does blood always have to be so messy? “You look like you might bleed out. This is where I give you a choice. You can either make sure you never come back to this town or within fifty miles of this town, or I kill you and feed you to the fishes out back before the cops arrive. Choice is yours.”
Grabbing his leg in agony, he replies, “My boss will kill me, so I’m already a dead man.”
“Fish it is.” I stand and aim the gun at his head.
“Wait!” His hands lift in surrender. “I have a wife and three kids. I won’t bother you again. I won’t come anywhere near this town. I promise.”
Squatting down, I look him in his beady eyes. “Why should I trust you?” He squirms under the intensity of my glare.
“It’s Cutler I was after. I have no beef with you or the ex-wife. I promise. We have a deal?” We’ll see what sort of deal you get with the sheriff’s department.
“I’m going to let you live this time.”
His head thumps on the wood. “Oh, thank God.”
“Thank me.” I turn my attention to where it needs to be right now and the sirens sounding in the distance. Red and blue lights flash across the fields and invade the living room. It’s going to be a long night, and I just want this nightmare to be over. I need to get to my girl.
“This gun is still registered to your daddy, Delilah. You need to file the proper paperwork to put it in your name.”
The farmhouse has been shot up. Holes are in the walls, the floor, and in people. Cutler is in the ambulance on his way to the hospital, and the gambling ring criminal otherwise named Brooks is also on his way to the hospital. Naturally, Whaley’s more concerned about the proper paperwork for the gun Delilah used to come save me. She’s my hero.
“I’ll take care of it this week,” she says, twisting her mouth in annoyance.
Although Delilah’s dress has dried from the warm night air, Lorraine wraps a blanket around her. I know Delilah is going to experience a whole range of emotions, but right now she’s running on adrenaline. When you’re up that high, the fall back to reality is sometimes chilling.
I take her hand and turn it palm up. Placing a kiss on it, I let my lips remain, closing my eyes, grateful that I’ve been gifted this life with her. When I lift back up, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
She’s not a good liar, and at times like this, I appreciate that fact. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I hold her while we finish giving our statements.
In towns like Solace Pointe, the whole jail staff comes out for a looky-loo, so we’re grateful we don’t have to go down to the station. Three hours of questioning is quite enough. Delilah’s exhausted, so I wrap this up. “We’re done, Deputy. If you have more questions, you’ll have to contact our lawyer and set up a formal interview.”
“Sounding like a big shot there, Mr. Koster. You’ve been involved in these kinds of situations before?”
“No,” I lie. “I just know my rights.”
Whaley scratches his chin. “Well, I think we have enough to file our reports. If we don’t, we’ll be in touch.”
“What about your men inside?”
“They’ll be there all night. I suggest you find another place to stay for a few nights while we do our investigation.”
After a heavy huff, Delilah’s shoulders fall. “Great. Just great.” She slides out of my grasp and walks toward the field. Standing at the edge, she crosses her arms over her chest and stares into the darkness. She’s struggling, and I get not wanting an audience. “Thank you, officers.” I join her side, wishing I could make this all go away like it never happened, but sometimes bad shit happens. I hate that the outside made its way to the inside of our little piece of paradise. “Whaley said we could go.”
“Where can we go?” It’s not resolve but resignation I detect in her tone.
I try to take it away and offer an opportunity. “Anywhere we want.”
“Lorraine said we could stay with them. She has a sewing room with a foldout couch.”
“Billy called. They wouldn’t let him on the property, but he said we’re welcome on his farm.” I move closer, keeping my eyes ahead.
“Your mom called me.” Taking my hand, she holds it between us. “She said she wants us to come over.”
“Tomorrow. How about I take you to a hotel so we can decompress?” We’ve had a lot happen, and we’ve told the story more times than I care to tell again. “A room of our own.”
