Tracefinder - Kaje Harper Page 0,43

take a photo of his screen, then glanced at him. “You don’t mind, do you, Brian? I’m documenting your nine-one-one call right there.”

“Um. No, that’s okay.” He didn’t want to argue when she’d softened enough to use his first name. “Can I have it back now?”

She flicked a finger at the deputy, who held it out. When Brian reached for it, the man held on for a long second, before abruptly letting go. Some kind of power play. He wished he’d paid more attention to Damon, back when, with his advice about how to deal with cops. Lori had hung on Damon’s words, but his own strategy had always been Bry— unaware, blind, babbling ignorance. He hadn’t thought he’d need anything else.

He ignored the deputy and looked at the sheriff. “Can I go now? It’s getting cold. And smoky.” His shiver wasn’t faked. The bike ride had raised a sweat, and now the breeze was chilling his damp skin. Up on the hill, men called back and forth, and another sheriff’s car pulled in, siren loud and startling. He wanted to be home.

“You’ll need your wallet.” She pulled it out of her pocket and flipped through it. “Florida driver’s license?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“When did you come up here?”

He thought he’d told her last time. Maybe she was double-checking. “A month ago.”

“Funny how these incidents started since you got here.”

He scrambled for words. “I don’t do stuff like that. Doc! I mean, Zander Wydell.” Doc was on the up and up. She’d have to trust him. “He knows I wouldn’t do that.” He saw you kill a man, but he won’t tell. He shivered again.

She fingered through the little pockets where his fake cards lived, then closed the wallet and held it out. “I’ll talk to him. Where are you living now?”

He took the wallet with unsteady fingers and stuffed it back in his overalls. Does the shaking look bad? Lots of people are nervous around the police. He took a breath, managed a smile. Oh, god, what was the question? Oh yeah, where I live. This he could answer, the numbers behaving themselves in his head for once. “One-seventeen North Silvercreek Road.”

“Renting?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t that Jason Edwards’ place? Tiny, kind of a dump?”

“Yeah. We, um, got a break on the rent, to clean it up a bit.”

“We?”

“Me and my…” Out and proud, right? Or are we? They hadn’t actually talked about it. “Friend. We’re sharing the rent.” Was that still obvious? He kept his attention on the sheriff.

If she reacted at all, it wasn’t visible in the fading light. “Has he got a car? You want to call him to come pick you up?”

“What? No. I can bike. It’s not far.”

The deputy said, “You have a light on that bike? Wouldn’t want to write you a ticket as a traffic hazard.” The sheriff shot him an unreadable glance but didn’t comment.

“Yes. I do. Front and back.” Nick had bought them for him, back when he first started riding around the neighborhood in Minneapolis. Nick had covered the gesture with some awful story about a bike fatality he’d once seen, but Brian had felt warmed by the gift, back when he wasn’t sure if they were more than fuck-buddies.

“Go on, then,” the sheriff said. “Ride careful. And get that license updated.”

“Hey!” Odell jerked his gun toward Brian again. “You’re gonna let him go?”

The sheriff sighed audibly. “Unless you can explain how he took down your thirty-foot tower with bare hands and a bicycle, yeah.”

“So he had help.”

“He did call us.”

“Covering for his buddies. Or maybe the fire scared the piss out of him. Bet he didn’t plan for that.” The mouth of that gun rose farther toward Brian’s face.

“Odell.” The sheriff took what looked like a casual step toward the guy, but it put her between Brian and the gun. “You don’t want to go pointing that thing around without due cause. Right?” When he didn’t immediately lower it, she said, “I know who he is. I know where he works and where he lives. I will follow up.”

Slowly Odell let the gun droop down to point at the ground. “You better. Folks are gettin’ real tired of all the shit getting burned and broken around here. You got any idea how much my insurance is gonna go up? We want some answers. If you let that guy go and he’s part of it, I’ll make sure everyone knows.”

“Is that some kind of threat?” The sheriff didn’t move, but somehow she looked taller and scarier.

Odell

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