Page 82 of Massacre
“Why?”
The man shrugged, refusing to look at her. “Don’t know.”
“Psst!”
Turning, I spotted Massacre waving me over. Rushing over to him, I whispered, “I’m so sorry. By the time I left the bathroom, Deputy Malone was arresting you. I didn’t know what to do. How in the hell did he know what we did at the movies?”
“We can worry about that later,” Massacre muttered. “Does anyone else know?”
I quickly shook my head. “No. I told Grace because she’s mad at King right now. And she told Maureen because she’s the only one who can get Declan to release you without letting King know.”
“So what’s the plan?”
I shrugged, looking back over at Maureen as she pointed her finger at Deputy Malone. “Beats me.”
Just then, the front door swung open, and Sheriff Declan O’Rourke strode in, his boots echoing against the linoleum. He glanced around the station, taking everything in; his expression was unreadable. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
For a moment, no one dared speak.
Shaking his head, he sighed. “Do I even want to know?”
No one answered. Declan’s eyes flickered from Massacre, leaning against the cell bars smiling, to Maureen, whose glare could melt steel. Deputy Malone shifted uncomfortably, clearly regretting his involvement in whatever mess he’d stumbled into.
“Declan,” Maureen spoke first. “Amber and Massacre were just watching a movie at the Diamond Theater, and Deputy Malone”—the woman turned and glared menacingly at him—“arrested them for no reason.”
Declan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “Charges?”
“Indecent exposure, sex in a public place,” Malone said, then added, “And resisting arrest.”
Storming right over to the man, I jabbed my finger in his chest. “That’s a lie. Massacre didn’t resist anything!”
“So he didn’t expose himself and have sex in a public place?” Declan asked, quirking an eyebrow at me as I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, aware that every set of eyes was turned on me like I was the next suspect. “No, that’s not—Look, there was a mix-up, alright? Massacre and I were leaving the theater, and the next thing I know, Malone’s got his cuffs out and arrested him.”
“What movie did you see?”
“Huh?” I blinked several times. “What?”
Leaning against a desk, Declan crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “What movie did you and Massacre go see?”
He grinned as if he already knew the answer and was taking delight in my discomfort. “Don’t tell me you forgot the title. Seems like the kind of detail an innocent person would remember.”
My mouth opened, then snapped shut. “It was... uh,The Midnight Pact. Some noir thriller. I barely caught the plot, what with Massacre making comments the whole time.” I shot a look at Massacre, who shrugged, grinning like an idiot as he enjoyed watching me flounder.
Maureen snorted, folding her arms. “She’s telling the truth. I saw them, popcorn everywhere, not a stitch of indecency in sight. Fergus just wants to pad his arrest record.”
“That’s not true. I—” Deputy Malone bristled and then snapped, “You weren’t even there!”
“And how would you know that?” Maureen challenged.
Declan held up a hand, silencing him. “Enough. I’ll check the camera footage myself. In the meantime, nobody’s being charged until I get the facts. Got it?”
“NO!” Grace, Maureen, Massacre, Deputy Malone and I all shouted at once.
A heavy silence settled.
I looked frantically at Massacre as his grin faded, replaced by a wary glance at me. Maureen sneered at Deputy Malone, who paled as Grace stepped forward. “Look, Dec, this is nothing but a big misunderstanding. Can’t you just forget this ever happened?”
Declan’s lips pressed into a thin line. He scanned each of us, jaw ticking, as if weighing the merits of drawing this out further or letting us off the hook. Finally, he raked a hand through his hair and exhaled. “Fine. Everyone, get the hell out of my station. I’m not ruining anyone’s day over bad popcorn and worse alibis. Everyone, go home,” he said, then pointed at his wife. “You. My office, now.”
