The Davenport Christmas Chronicles - Piper Davenport Page 0,15
was... trying to help.”
Although Scott was big, and clearly looked like he could handle himself, he was as calm and gentle as I’d ever seen a person. You would never have guessed in a million years that this guy had boosted a truck in the middle of the night.
“How is stealing my truck helping me?” Crow demanded.
“Not you, so much as the kids back at the shelter where I’m staying.”
“I think maybe we should get Scott here a seat and some coffee. Whatta ya say, Prez?” I asked.
“I swear, I don’t mean any trouble to y’all and I’ll figure out a way to make this up to you in any way I can. Everything’s still in the truck,” Scott said. “All of it. I promise.”
“Take a seat. Someone get him some coffee and a coat that doesn’t make me feel like sitting on this guy’s lap,” Crow called out, clearly relaxing a bit. “Who are you, Scott?”
“I’m just a guy riding across the country. Well, I guess I’m a guy who’s ridden across the country now.”
“You rode here from Florida?” Crow asked. “On a bike?”
Scott nodded. “I set off a year ago, and have sort of zig-zagged around the country. Working here and there, sleeping wherever I can. That sort of thing.”
“By working, you mean boosting trucks and fencing the goods? Or do you mean specifically robbing children’s charities?”
“I told you, I was blind drunk and stealing your truck seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“A good idea?” I challenged.
“I said it seemed like a good idea. Obviously, I was outta my fucking mind. Look, I’ve been staying at this shelter for about a week and it’s filled with kids that aren’t gonna see Jack Shit for Christmas, let alone Jack Frost. I was drinkin’, feeling sorry for myself, and then I started feelin’ sorry for all those little kids. The next thing I knew, I was in the suit and behind the wheel of the rig. I’m not even sure how I got into the alley.”
“It’s a miracle you didn’t kill anybody,” Crow said.
“I hadn’t had a drink in over ten years before yesterday morning,” Scott said with tears welling in his eyes as Booker handed him a cup of coffee, which he took and thanked him for. “But I drank until I couldn’t see straight, and I can only see the rest in blurry snapshots. I remember a bell ringing and wrestling with Santa, then I remember pulling on a string of Christmas lights. I have a vague recollection of driving, then the next thing I knew, Hatch was tapping on the windshield.”
“Why start up again yesterday?” Crow asked.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Scott said, rising to his feet, the tone in his voice darkening instantly. My hand instinctively went to my sidearm and I unsnapped my holster. As harmless as he seemed, this guy was clearly far from stable.
Crow waved a hand. “It’s okay, we’re just talking here. Go ahead and sit back down or you’ll make Hatch nervous.”
Scott did as he was asked and continued, “I’m sorry, it’s just...something I haven’t talked about... with anyone.”
“Look, man, you’ve clearly been through some shit, but you can’t go around stealing just because you got loaded,” I said.
“I wasn’t stealing,” he sighed. “I mean, yeah, obviously I stole your truck, but like I said, in my drunken mind, I was trying to play Santa to a bunch of needy kids, just like I used to.” Scott’s face fell. He looked like a shell of a man and my heart went out to him.
He continued, “You guys saw my bike. I’ve ridden with my friends back in Florida all my life. Never in a formal club or anything, but we had our guys, and every Christmas, we’d join in with a bunch of other local area bikers and do a big toy drive. I was at Duke’s bar on Fifth and I saw y’all’s rig pull up for a donation pick up. Something inside me snapped when I saw it was a club drive, so I followed you back here. I sat and watched, getting more and more drunk, until it got dark and the coast was clear. I remember the keys were in the truck and then it all gets real fuzzy.”
“Ace, call Duke and ask him if he remembers anything from last night,” Crow said.
“I swear I’m telling you guys the truth,” Scott said.
“Maybe you are telling us the truth, but you aren’t telling us