Page 95 of Savage Daddies

This morning, my muscles feel like they’re made of lead. I couldn’t sleep last night. I spent eight hours in darkness wide awake, tossing and turning on a one-inch thick mattress made of vintage springs that poked holes into my back. I resorted to the floor, and that’s when they woke me up with oatmeal that looked more like lumpy vomit.

The officer sets a card key against the door, and the sensor turns green to allow him access. A window separates the room from the next.

Wrangler has also been pulled out.

Don’t they know we come as a package deal?

“Take a seat please, Mr. Reeves.”

The metal chair scrapes against the concrete floor as I pull it out.

Already, I feel the metal from the backrest dig into my already aching back. I’m blaming it on the uncomfortable furniture, but itcouldbe old age—I’m not exactly the spring chicken I once was.

“Mr. Reeves? I asked you a question.”

“Sorry. Please repeat.”

“I said, what were you doing at Felix Fernando’s place?”

The rape accusation comes back to me.

How dare he?

I tighten my fists under the table. Maybe I should take a shot at telling the truth.

“I know you won’t take my word for it, but we didn’t harm Zoe.”

The man frowns.

I proceed. “If you must know, we were trying to save her.”

He begins typing my response into his machine.

“And what exactly were you trying to save her from?”

“Wrangler told your colleague earlier, before our arrest, that the man is a serial killer.”

The man moves the computer aside. “Mr. Reeves, such accusations can’t be taken seriously without evidence, and all three of you have failed to provide any.”

“Bullwhip—Blazer.He might have some information.”

“Your friend has already been spoken to, and nothing was provided.”

Whose fucking side is this man on? Zoe’s, or her good-for-nothing husband’s?

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He slides the computer back and positions his fingers over the keys, preparing to type again. “Now, the three of you were brought into the station just a few days ago for entering a crime scene and assaulting multiple officers. It’s not looking good, Harrison Reeves. My colleague asked you about your place of employment…” He inspects the screen. “And you said that you were currently seeking new work. Is this still the case?”

“Yes.”

“You used to teach Literature Studies at Top Hill High School, and left due to your mental health. Your two friends, Blazer Grayson and Jason Tyler are also currently unemployed.” He squints. “Blazer claims that he does cash-in-hand mechanic work, but fails to provide tax returns.” The officer abandons the laptop and looks up at me. “Do you know what this means, Mr. Reeves?”

Do enlighten me.

“It means you’re now very high on our radar. You reside in Desert Shores, correct?”

I give a curt, “Yes.”

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