AllFreeNovel
Share Us
For some reason, she felt her stomach tighten and the hairs on her neck shiver.
Beside her, Nicholls muttered: “What the hell?”
A few other people out on the street stopped and stared as the man passed.
Nicholls shoved his chair back and stepped out into the road. Barbara noticed his hand hover near his gun.
“Can I help you?”
The man raised his head. Thick beard, black skin, dark eyes.
“Chief Nicholls.” The man smiled, flashing surprisingly white teeth in the worn face. “Good to see you.” His voice was low and warm.
Nicholls didn’t return the smile. “What are you doing here?”
The man ignored him and glanced at Barbara. “I’m guessing this is Detective Atkins from the DFVA.” He tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”
Barbara rose. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. Although you have me at a disadvantage—I don’t think I caught your name?”
“Jensen Tucker, ma’am.”
Her eyebrows shot up. The former chief. Now, a recluse living in the woods. But here he was, large as life and twice as big.
“What are you doing back in town, Tucker?” Nicholls asked, tone still unfriendly.
“I needed to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“The boys’ murder.”
“You mean Marcus Anderson?”
“I mean…both of them.”
15
Tucker looked uncomfortable inside the police department. Barbara got the impression that it was a while since he had seen civilization—if you could call Deadhart civilization. Or maybe he was uneasy being back in his old office, with another man wearing his badge.
She found herself studying the man again. He had taken his hat off, revealing long gray dreadlocks, tied loosely back. He must be in his early sixties by now and, despite the heavy beard and creases around his eyes, he was wearing it well. Isolation must suit him.
After his appearance in the street, Nicholls and Barbara had taken their lunch to go and carried it with them across the road. Rita was out, so Barbara pulled her chair over for Tucker. Nicholls sat down at his desk and started silently devouring his burger, seemingly intent upon giving Tucker the shortest shrift he could manage.
Barbara pushed her own paper-wrapped burrito to one side. Tucker watched her hungrily.
“Would you like some?” she said. “It’s only going to waste otherwise.”
“No,” Tucker shook his head. “It’s fine.”
Yet his eyes said different. Barbara glanced at Nicholls, who was still ignoring the older man. She sighed.
“So,” she said to Tucker. “You wanted to talk to us. And, I’m sure Chief Nicholls will agree, we’re eager for any information that can help right now.”
Nicholls grunted and swallowed the remains of his burger. He made a show of wiping his lips prissily with a napkin.
Tucker shifted in his chair. He was too big for it. He was too big for most places, Barbara guessed. Outside, his height made him formidable. Inside, it made him hunched and awkward, like a giant in Lilliput.
“I have to show you this,” he said.
