Page 74 of Small Town Beast

“It’s okay, Tanya. He didn’t get you, right? That’s what matters. You’re safe, honey. He’s dead, and you’re not.”

Tanya turned around walked out the door with a hand over her mouth.

A deep apprehension rolled over in Saverin as he stared down at the would-be-murderer. Her ex.

Death set things in motion; death was never final, really. Cause and effect. Making sure Tanya stayed outside, he crouched next to the body and very carefully went through the dead man’s pockets.

It was never a good idea to move or touch a warm body; Roman had impressed that on him often enough. But they were in Florin, and nothing could happen to Saverin here.

In the left pocket he found a wallet, and in the right pocket was a piece of paper was made of stiff card material. Saverin unfolded it with extreme care. He had seen it before among Tanya’s papers when he’d gone through her apartment.

The birth certificate said AMARI WEAVER.

Tanya was listed as the mother, and under the father’s name, an empty space.

The time to go down to Rowanville was now. Everything else could wait. Saverin checked his watch and began rearranging the times in his head. He would have to leave at first light, and do it without Crash Walker or not.

He tucked the birth certificate back where the dead man had found it and went outside to meet the law.

The killing was deemeda clear-cut self defense, as Saverin had known it would be. He was met outside Tanya’s building by Florin Police Chief Lucky and his new stand-in deputy, Absalom.

“What happened to Deputy Daniel?” Saverin asked his cousin warily. The whiskey-loving Florin deputy had been a reliable stooge to the McCall empire for ages and seeing the troublemaker Absalom in the lawman’s uniform spelled trouble.

“Deputy Daniel’s taken a sick leave,” Absalom revealed, dapping up Saverin. “Took the wife and kids to Myrtle Beach.”

“When’s he coming back?”

“Couple weeks,” shrugged Absalom.

“Does this mean you’re turning honest?”

“Not on your life, Bailey.” The sandy-haired man was cool as a cucumber, offering Saverin a cigarette. “Taking back the harvest is still our number one priority.”

“How does Roman feel about that?”

“You can imagine he ain’t too happy. But what Roman thinks doesn’t concern me anymore.”

Saverin refused the cigarette. “Thanks for coming by.” He turned to go but Absalom caught his arm and jerked his chin at Tanya, who was talking to one of her neighbors. “So who isshe?”

Saverin knew how he meant it.Who is she, to you?

“She’s my girl.”

Absalom spat on the ground. “You see what she is?”

“Both my eyes work,” said Saverin. “I suggest you keep yours to your own and off of mine.”

“We’ll see tomorrow,” said Absalom. He was better looking than most Green Trees, with the face of a McCall. It unnerved Saverin whenever he encountered one of Duke’s bastards in the wild. He saw it now, but he hadn’t before.I’ll be damned.

Roman’s father had ruled the mountain as a tyrant, loved by his friends and hated by his enemies, of which there were a great many. Like his bastards. Their number seemed infinite. Every now and then a face would appear from a knot of male cousins, a face like a hungry wolf, or a demon that had learned to blend in with its surroundings. Duke’s face.

The tide of Duke’s murder had lifted his heirs into power, and Absalom was now challenging the oldest and most powerful for the throne. And Roman might fall…Roman might fall tomorrow.

For two years Saverin had merely been pulled by the current of Florin’s greatest forces, neither sinking nor rising, but ever being drawn into dark deep waters he did not trust. He’d allowed it to happen, and all he could do now was swim faster.

Something licked his hand. He looked down in surprise to see that ugly yellow dog, beating the stump of his tail happily.

He used to keep Fang’s treats in the pocket of this jacket. Saverin found one crumbling in the recesses, and held it out to the dog who devoured it happily before running up to Tanya.

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