Page 34 of Shelter for Martina

“Yeah?”

“That was me, okay? That was me. I ain’t gonna lie. I did it, I ain’t proud of it, but I did it. I ain’t perfec, sir. I ain’t perfec at all. But this, sir, this ain’t right. They’z…” He stopped.

“What?”

“Look, you gotta promise me you gonna protect me. They’ll kill me, sir. They will.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll protect you. What’s going on?”

“So Phil breaks into houses. He steals their oxy. SheriffYoung takes the reports, but he don’t do nothin’ with ‘em. An’ then Phil sells the pills and they split the money.”

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, Bud’s brain screamed. He knew oxycontin thefts were a problem in OhioCounty, but this wasn’t at all what he would’ve guessed. Sure, he had a supreme dislike for SheriffYoung, but he’d never dreamed something like that was going on, although it did go a long way in explaining why no one was ever apprehended in the thefts. “Son, if what you say is true, then—”

“Oh, lawd, sir, they’ll kill me if they think I told you. I mean, they will. I’ll be dead just like Renita.”

“And you think she’s dead?”

The younger man sobbed. “I’m sure of it. They think I won’t say nothin’ ‘cuz I want the drugs, but I wanna get clean, sir. I really do. An’ they keep givin’ ‘em to me to keep me quiet. An’ I’m sick of it, sir. I’m sick of it. Daddies ain’t s’posed to do things like that to their kids, ya know? It ain’t right.”

“No, son. It’s not right at all.” He knew what Martina’s opinion of Marty was, but he was almost one hundred percent certain that the kid was telling the truth. “So let’s talk turkey. You still got those guns you stole?” Marty nodded. “Okay. You bring me those guns to prove to me that you’re not lying, and I’ll forget that you stole them and we’ll return them. And I’ll get you some protection. But you’ve got to do that for me. Do you understand? You have a terrible track record around here. Everybody thinks you’re the biggest liar in five counties, and nobody believes a thing you—”

“But, sir, Iswear, I’m tellin’ the truth!” Marty screamed. “Oh, god, they’ll kill me!”

“Nobody’s killing anybody right now. So here’s what we’re going to do. You calm down. They ask why you were here, you tell them Martina called and wanted to talk to you about Renita, but you didn’t tell her anything. Go get the guns and bring them to me in the parking lot of the post. We’ll go from there, okay?”

“Arrest me if you want. If you do that, I’ll be safe.” The words were no more out of his mouth than his eyes flew open and he yelled, “No! Wait! I’m wrong! I’d have to go to the jail in BeaverDam! Oh, god, they’ll kill me!”

“Marty! Marty! Get hold of yourself!” Bud yelled, grabbing the man by his upper arms. “It’s okay! We’re going to find a way to fix this. You do as I said and it’ll be fine. Go. Now. Get the guns. Go to the post. I’ll meet you there in about an hour. That should give you plenty of time. Just try to stay away from everybody until you can get there, okay?”

“Yes, sir. Stay away from everybody. I’ll do that. Thank you, sir.” And he just sat there.

“Go! Go on! Do it!”

Marty jumped up. “Oh! Yeah! Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! Okay. I’ll go right now. Go get them guns. I’ll see you in the parking lot of Post Sixteen in about an hour. Thank you, sir. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t let me down. Bye now, Marty. Bye.” Bud watched as Marty went back to his truck, backed out of the drive, and disappeared down the road. “Martina!”

She rounded the corner in the hallway, her eyes wide. “What the hell was that about?”

“I’ve got to take you back to the house and make some phone calls on the way. Come on. We need to get going.”

In two minutes they were on the road. Bud wondered if he’d just made a deal with the devil, but there was only one way to find out.

* * *

Well,I guess we just had our first fight, a grim Bud told himself as he hurtled the DodgeCharger unmarked cruiser down the country roads headed to PostSixteen in Henderson. Martina was spittin’ mad. He’d refused to tell her anything Marty had said, and she’d told him she thought that was grossly unfair and then said a few other things he was pretty sure she was regretting at the moment. That was okay. She could be mad. The less she knew, the safer she was.

He hit the radio’s mic. “Central dispatch, this is unit seven twenty-three to Post Sixteen, unit seven twenty-three to PostSixteen. PostSixteen, respond. Over.”

“PostSixteen responding, unit seven twenty-three. Over.”

“PostSixteen, please advise of all units on premises at this time. Over.”

“Units eight ninety-five and seven fourteen present on premises. Over.”

“Roger that.” Hell, he couldn’t remember whose those were, but at least he knew there were two of them there. He hit the phone contact for the post and heard a voice say, “Kentucky State Police PostSixteen. How may I help you?”

“This is DetectiveGriffin. Who is this?”

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