Meant to Be Immortal (Argeneau #32) - Lynsay Sands Page 0,102
a license. Rides a ten-speed all over town, even in winter.”
“Oh,” CJ murmured with disappointment. She’d hoped they might have resolved both incidences with Mac, but it seemed not.
“But Steve drives a red pickup,” he announced quietly.
She was so used to thinking of him as Officer Jefferson that it took CJ a minute to realize Dupree was talking about his son-in-law. CJ set her sandwich down again and asked slowly, “Does he?”
“Yes. I looked it over this morning. There’s a dent on the front driver’s side, but you said that Bricker fella pushed you and Mr. Argeneau here out of the way.”
“But Bricker took a hit,” Mac said grimly.
“Is that how he was bruised and got road rash?” CJ asked, her gaze sliding to Justin Bricker with concern. He’d seemed fine to her since the accident, but then she’d been a bit preoccupied with first her own pain and then with Mac in her bed. However, if the truck had hit him . . .
“He’s fine,” Mac assured her, and then turned to Captain Dupree and said, “But the dent is probably from Bricker.”
“Unfortunately, I need more than a ‘probably’ to do anything about it. You guys didn’t even see the license plate or who was driving,” he pointed out, and his mouth compressed with anger before he blurted, “The bastard’s been abusing his power, bullying people, beating up the young men in this town, and even abusing my daughter, and I can’t do a damned thing about any of it. My Lily refuses to press charges and says she’ll deny he ever touched her if I do anything, and then for the rest of these cases it’ll end up being his word against three young men who—” He shook his head. “Mark Loop has a record and a rep as a troublemaker. Mike MacDonald isn’t much better and is one of his cronies. As for Keith—” He paused and frowned. “I don’t know the kid. He’s never been arrested for anything, but that doesn’t mean that his word is enough to . . .”
When his voice trailed off into unhappy silence, CJ eyed him for a minute, and then asked, “How long was it after the night Keith claims Jefferson broke his arm that he complained to you?”
Captain Dupree considered her question briefly and then grimaced. “I’m not sure. He filed the complaint via email.” A short laugh slipped from his mouth, and he admitted, “I didn’t really take it seriously at first. I thought it was just some prank or something. I hadn’t even heard that a kid’s arm had been broken during an arrest attempt.”
“You didn’t get the arrest report?”
“He didn’t arrest him in the end,” Dupree told her. “Took him to the hospital and told him to consider himself lucky he wasn’t taking him to jail, broken arm and all. He did write up an incident report to cover his ass, but kept it in his desk until Keith started making noises. Then he produced it and said he’d forgotten to file it.”
“And you believed him?” she asked, trying not to sound judgmental.
“Lily, my daughter, had just miscarried their first child. We were all a mess, so it didn’t seem odd that he might mislay a file.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” CJ said quietly.
Dupree shook his head. “Turns out she lost it because he beat the hell out of her. The bastard.”
CJ remained silent for a moment, thinking, and then asked, “So no one investigated the area where Keith was pulled over to see if there was proof that Officer Jefferson broke the taillight there?”
Dupree’s head shot up at that, realization on his face, and then he started to get up. “No. I’ll head out there right now and—”
“Sit down, Charles.” A large woman in jeans and a patterned top appeared at his side, prodding at his waist to herd him back toward the booth. “I came to see Ms. Cummings, but you’ll want to see this too.”
The captain scowled at her prodding, but sat back down and shifted along the bench to make room for the newcomer.
CJ’s eyes flickered with interest from the woman’s dyed blond hair and spectacles to the portable computer she’d set on the table, and then she raised her eyebrows once she was settled in the booth.
“I’m Joan Wilson,” the woman announced, her attention on the portable computer she’d set on the table and was now opening and starting up. “A friend of Millie’s. Mrs. Vesper,” she added in case CJ