Page 98 of Stone Coast
I didn’t look in the cops’ direction. I just kept smiling.
Valerie grinned. “You are so fucking cool.”
Valerie wanted to be a rebel.
She darted away and gossiped with the other waitresses.
TJ watched the interaction. “On second thought, you better get out of here before she spills the beans.”
“I’m gonna use the restroom,” I said.
“I’ll pay the tab. Meet me at the truck.”
“Give her a nice tip.” I climbed out of the booth and walked toward the back of the restaurant. I slipped out through the rear exit into the bright morning sun.
The squad car sat in the lot not far from the candy apple red beast. I leaned against the truck and waited for TJ, nerves slicking my skin. He rounded the corner a moment later with a smile, clicked the key fob, and we hopped in. TJ fired up the engine, and we pulled out of the lot. As soon as we turned onto the road, I breathed a little easier.
“You know if you run, it’s going to look bad.”
I nodded. "Ray was alive when we left. I spent the night with you,” I said, hoping he’d be willing to vouch for me.
"I've got your back. Let's call Xzavier and Preston and coordinate this thing. I know I don’t need to tell you this, but keep your mouth shut. Don't say anything unless Preston tells you it's okay.”
I nodded. “You think they'll revoke my bail?”
TJ shrugged. "Anything is possible with these bastards.”
49
The overhead fluorescent lights flickered, casting a sickly glow over the tiny interrogation room. I didn’t like being on this side of the table. With stark white walls and a hopeless vibe, the room would drive you mad after a short time. You’d say anything just to get out of there. But the 6x8 cell that awaited was worse.
“Why did you go to the Cool Cat last night?” Detective Scarborough asked.
“Don’t answer that,” Preston said.
He sat beside me, guiding me through this whole absurd process after we’d coordinated my surrender.
“The bartender says you stormed in like you owned the place and asked for Ray. He says he pointed you to the back office. Says you marched back there and confronted him. A few hours later, he was dead.”
“He was alive when I left,” I said.
“Can anyone else verify that?”
“Have you talked to his employees?”
“We have.”
“And?” I asked.
Scarborough said nothing.
“Do you have a murder weapon?” Preston asked.
“Nothing was found at the scene.”
“Do you have any trace evidence, fingerprints, DNA? Anything connecting my client to the scene?”
Scarborough didn’t answer. “Where were you last night between 2 and 5:00 AM?”
