AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But without having a really good way to explain the situation to another person, I was keeping it to myself. Unfortunately that meant I had been acting weird all morning, and people were starting to notice. Cash thought I was mad at him and left early with his lawyer buddy, Matt, to talk to Hank at the police station.
I waited for the breakfast sandwich I’d ordered, and my stomach rumbled. The chime on the door sounded, and I glanced up to see who had entered, wary of new arrivals.
Josie Dwyer, the deputy I’d met during my brief jail stay, came in. She was wearing her beige Louisiana-standard uniform and had pushed a pair of aviators up on her head when she came in.
The waitress poured her a to-go coffee and said, “On the house, Deputy.”
I expected her to leave, but instead she walked up to Wilder and me, and took a seat next to Wilder without waiting for an invitation.
“Miss McQueen. Mr. Shaw.” She nodded to us both in turn. “I assume y’all are on your way out of town?”
Wilder and I exchanged uneasy glances. “Not quite,” he replied.
“Charges have been dropped. Settlements made.” She gave us both a funny look. “I can’t image a good reason to stick around unless you’re planning to start more trouble.” It was like the sheriff had given her a script. The words sounded forced and stilted, as if she was having trouble saying them.
“We’re waiting to find out if the lawyers can do anything for Hank,” I offered finally. “I promise we’re staying out of trouble. One stay in lockup was more than enough for us.” I gave her a forced laugh, and she smiled weakly in return, sipping her coffee.
The order bell chimed, indicating our food was ready. I watched the waitress, hoping she would bring our to-go bag quickly. Outside, an ambulance drove by, its lights on but no siren. Josie watched it go, her expression betraying her obvious worry.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“I’m not sure I have the answer to that.” She seemed to realize she was being overly candid and straightened her posture, her demeanor shifting. “Sheriff has an ambulance on call for the next couple days. Just in case of more attacks.”
I glanced at Wilder, his cheeks reddening.
“If the sheriff thinks Hank did it, why would he call in an ambulance?” Unless he thought someone else was hurting people. Or knew someone else was going to get hurt. My suspicions about the sheriff’s involvement seemed warranted.
Josie got to her feet, slipping her glasses back on. “I’m sure Sheriff McGraw has his reasons.”
No doubt. “Nice to see you again, Deputy.” I tried to remain polite. I didn’t think Josie was the enemy here.
She was almost at the door when she turned back. “Miss McQueen? Genie?” Her voice was suddenly full of worry, and I went still, making Wilder wait.
“Yeah?”
“Y’all be careful, okay? And get out of town as soon as you can.” It didn’t sound like a threat.
If anything it sounded like a warning.
Wilder and I were in Cash’s car, parked down the highway from a charming ranch-style home set back off the main road, and I still couldn’t decide if this was a great idea or lunacy. Josie’s words floated around in my head, adding to my worry.
Wilder stuck a cup of coffee under my nose, and I took it, sipping the lukewarm bitter liquid laced with way too much sugar. My lips puckered involuntarily, but I didn’t say anything. Even gross coffee was better than no coffee.
“You sure this is his place?”
Reaching under my seat, I grabbed the slim yellow parish phonebook I’d stolen from my motel room. “T. Deerling was kind enough to be listed. Yeah, I’m sure this is his place.”
“It’d be so nice if scumbags would put signs on their lawn, you know? Dear World, a Racist Shithead Lives Here. Or if there was an online registry.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose beneath my sunglasses and took another swig of the foul brew I was holding. I yearned for a café au lait from La Madeleine. The sandwich had been good, but not what I wanted. Too bad I couldn’t get fresh palmiers or fancy bullshit coffee in Franklinton.
That was the most princessy thing I’d ever thought.
I ignored my snobby internal dialogue to reply to Wilder. “If they broadcast it like that, little old ladies wouldn’t bring them cobbler every Sunday. And evil pricks love a good peach cobbler.”
“Shit. Who doesn’t love peach cobbler?”
The car was starting to get hot in spite of us having the windows down. I would have loved to turn on the engine and let the AC run for awhile, but it was bad enough we were sitting on the side of the road in broad daylight. Sitting in an idling car would look even more suspicious.
