Page 68 of All You Want
Everyone files toward the door, lining up, except Tami who’s slumped in the chair. Her mother nudges her. “We should go inside, sweetie. You’ve had quite a fright. Todd’s here, and you should answer his questions so you can go to sleep.”
“How can I ever sleep?” Tami wails, shaking up a frenzy.
Gently, I place my hand on her shoulder and lean over to speak to her. “It’ll be okay. Only a few questions and I’ll let you go.”
“You better not haul her in,” George King whispers to me. “She’s had quite a shock, and we don’t need you making it worse.”
“I have to ask her questions like anyone else.”
“Can’t you leave her tonight? Come back tomorrow morning.” George’s steely-blue eyes send me a message, reminding me of the look of understanding between him and Weaver.
“I have a question for you.” I draw him away from the chairs Tami and her mother are huddled on. “What did Weaver have on you? He’s always told me to go easy on your family.”
I don’t expect him to tell me the truth, just flush him out a bit—see if he’s worried.
His jowls relax, and he nickers like someone calming a horse. “Todd, son, now don’t you go sticking your nose into Weaver’s britches.”
“I know that, Mr. King, but I’m not Weaver, and if I don’t know what agreement you had with him, I have no reason to adhere to his guidance, especially since he’s no longer my boss. I’m the sheriff in this town now.”
“I know that, son, but I expect you to be a smart son of a bitch. Don’t shake Pandora’s box. Something may fall out.”
“I’m not afraid. Maybe I should shake it out of Weaver’s box.”
“If you’re looking for your share, you’ll get it with Tami.” He waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes me want to punch him out.
“I’d rather clear it with Weaver first.” I keep my gaze on him, going mano a mano with him—not backing down an inch.
“Good luck.” He claps his pudgy hands on my shoulders. “Guess you haven’t heard. Bill Weaver passed away last month.”
He’s caught me by surprise, so all I can do is nod. This changes things, bigly. If Weaver’s dead, he can no longer get in trouble for taking bribes, and I won’t have to testify against him—a man who took me under his wing, a no-skill football player, and made me the lawman I am today.
“I’m sorry for his family,” I tell George. “I guess this means whatever went on between you two is done.”
I don’t have evidence anyway, and I don’t need to look for trouble. I still remember Sheriff Weaver’s voice, telling me,Son, if you want to keep your hands clean, don’t be digging for dirt.
“Nothing doing,” George says. “Now, will you let my daughter go? She’s exhausted.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. King. I’m sure Tami will agree that it’s better to get her statement while it’s fresh in her mind.” Not to mention it doesn’t give her parents a chance to influence her testimony.
George’s anger is palpable, but I turn away from him and set my jaw firm. Leaning down over Tami, I whisper to her, “Only a few questions, and then I’ll let you go to bed.”
She nods and rests her head against me. I swing her like a rag doll into my arms and hold her tight, letting my feelings flow into her. She needs me now more than ever.
Her mother asks about shoes, but she’s already a bloody mess, so I figure collecting her shoes is a moot point. Everything she’s wearing will go into the evidence bags once she’s had a chance to change.
“Let’s go, Madam Goldilocks,” I speak into her ear. “You’re under my protective custody, and this time, I’m not letting you go.”
Twenty-Five
~ Tami ~
Todd’s hands are so gentle, and his body wraps me like a warm cocoon. I don’t want to leave his arms, so I close my eyes and pretend I didn’t rip off his mask and drive him away.
I wish my parents will stop talking. Everything they say is making things worse. Dad thinks he can smooth things over—tell Todd to wrap up the questioning and make it all go away.
“I bet it was one of those camper guys,” Dad says, tapping Todd’s arm for attention. “Once you see it on the security tape, you can arrest the suspect and book him.”
“We haven’t had a murder here for years,” Mom says in a warbling voice. “Ever since that poor—”
