Page 37 of Script Swap
Fortunately, my phone buzzed.
“My father didnotkill that boy,” Fox said.
“Hi, Fox.”
“They’re trying to railroad him!”
“I’m sure Sheriff Acosta wouldn’t do that.”
Instead of the usual Fox huff—or similarly scornful sound—they simply got louder.“The sheriff has been interrogating him all day, Dash.She thinks he did it.She’s determined to make an innocent man go down for a crime he didn’t commit.What wouldyoucall that?”
“Fox, it’s all going to be okay.If you say your dad didn’t kill Kyson, then the sheriff will eventually clear him and move on to other suspects.”
I didn’t say this next part out loud: Like Jonni.
“Oh?And how well did that go for you when you were arrested?Or Hugo?Or Keme?Or Indira?”
“Fox, I know you’re upset.”
“You’re darn tootin’ right I’m upset.”
(Darn tootin’was the cleanest version I could come up with.)
We were both silent for several long seconds.
“How can I help?”I asked.
“I don’t know.”The anger drained out of Fox’s voice, and now they sounded tired.“My father won’t talk to anyone except Tinny.It’s insane.‘Tinny knows what to do.’‘Tinny says everything’s going to be okay.’‘Tinny saw it in the crystal.’Tinny didn’t see jack crap in that crystal!”
(Again,jack crapis the filtered version.)
“Why?”I asked.“I mean, he has to understand how serious this is, doesn’t he?”
“You’d think.”Fox’s voice held a hint of their usual dry amusement.“Do you know what he said when I finally had a minute to talk to him?When he was still being held at the station, mind you.When I was trying to find out if he already had a lawyer he wanted me to call.He said, ‘If anything happens to me, take care of Tinny.’”There was a beat of silence, and then Fox’s strained, disbelieving laughter came across the phone.
“I know you believe your father is innocent—” I began.
“I don’t believe it, Dash.I know it.My father is many things, but he’s not a killer.”
“Not even for Tinny?”
I hated myself as soon as I asked the question, but it was too late.
Fox’s breathing rasped.
Maybe something showed on my face, because Chester reached across the table to grip my hand, and he offered me a tight smile.
“Ah,” Fox said, as though a piece had tumbled.
“I’m not saying he did it,” I said.“Fox, I don’t believe he did it either.I was thinking about it all night.It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Of course.”But the words were stiff and dismissive.
“But there’s a reason Kyson has those pictures of your dad.They mean something.And whatever it is, it’s not good.Do you have any idea what might have been happening?”
“No.”
“Your dad didn’t say what he was doing, or why Kyson might have taken those photos?”
