Page 52 of Thick as Thieves


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“How come?”

“Do you care?”

“I haven’t even called a lawyer yet.”

“Then I guess this visit is on the house. Come on, move it. My pizza’s getting cold.”

Ledge quit arguing and stepped out of the cell. The deputy caught him by the sleeve. “It’ll piss me off good if I see you back in here.”

Ledge pulled his arm free. “Shouldn’t have been in here today.”

“Debatable. From what I’ve heard, anyway. But the DA thought it over and didn’t deem your offense arrest-worthy after all.”

“He’s all heart.”

The deputy gave a gruff snort. “Another deputy will meet you at that door and escort you out.” He pointed Ledge toward the end of the corridor, then shot a glance up at the security camera, leaned closer to Ledge, and whispered, “Do yourself a favor. Steer clear of the turd. You understand what I’m saying?”

Ledge bobbed his chin. “Thanks. A beer is on me the next time you come into the bar.”

“Wife’s got me off it.” He slapped his potbelly. “Says I’m getting fat.”

Ledge smiled at him before heading down the hall.

The deputy called after him, “Keep your nose clean.”

Ledge didn’t turn around, but waved his hand in acknowledgment.

He was processed out and returned his belongings. In the parking lot where he’d left his pickup, he found Don White leaning against the front fender. Ledge scowled as he approached him. “What are you doing here?”

Equally cantankerous, Don replied, “I was about to ask you the same.”

Ledge used his fob to unlock the doors of his truck, went around, and got in on the driver’s side. Don hiked himself up into the passenger seat. “Lord, it’s an oven in here. Start the engine, get some AC going.”

Ledge gave him a sour look. “Nobody invited you.” But he did as ordered, because his truck had sat in the sun for hours, and the interior was an oven. Soon, cooler air was whirring through the vents.

Don situated himself more comfortably in his seat.

Under his breath, Ledge said, “Here it comes,” which Don ignored.

“This morning,” he began, “when I got up, I had a voice mail from you, telling me that you were going to see Henry. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then midday, I got a call at work informing me that you were in jail. I’m having a hard time believing what I was told happened in between times.”

“Who called you?”

“Well, not you. I had to hear about your altercation with the district attorney through the grapevine. I was also told that if you didn’t have the good sense to call a good defense lawyer, I should do it in your stead, because you were likely to need one. By the time the tale got around to me, Dyle was said to be seeking the death penalty.”

“I’m glad you brought up ‘work.’”

“Out of everything I’ve said, that’s what you picked up on?”

“Well, since you won’t take the bar off my hands, I do still own the place. Who’s covering for you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I cashed in a favor or two. Unlike you, I have friends I can call for help in times of need.”

“I have friends.”

“Name one.”

Ledge was about to say Crystal but stopped himself. Crystal had never told him—never told him—that Rusty had been with her that night. It was a betrayal that cut him to the quick. Learning that had bothered him a hell of a lot more than being jailed.

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