Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
There was hard-faced, yet handsome, Harry Moran and his deputies, who seemed to be in a détente with officious Leland Dern and his deputies.
They were playing nice.
And I suspected they were, because after some people did some things at the end of the pier and a lot of pictures were taken, a body wrapped in clear tarp was fished out of the water and put on the pier.
As it was, cold coated my skin like I, too, was wrapped in plastic tarp, just fished out of a lake.
I felt something and shifted my gaze to see Bohannan’s head turned, his eyes on me.
I wanted to go out and hug him.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to vomit.
There was a very big difference from seeing this kind of thing on dozens of television shows, and seeing it happen at the foot of the pier on which you’d spent a romantic night sitting beside the man you were falling in love with just a month before.
I didn’t know who was in that tarp.
I just knew whoever had been put in there had been put there for Bohannan.
Things seemed to be going okay between the different sides, and I’d stepped back so Bohannan couldn’t see me watching, but I could still watch.
Things stopped going okay when Polly Pickler showed up in a silver Toyota Camry.
In fact, she’d barely been out of her car and talking with Bohannan and Moran for a minute, before things devolved spectacularly to the point I had to race out of the house, seeing as a brawl was forming, Moran’s men against Dern’s men.
And if I’d read things right, Jess and Moran were the ones who started it.
By the time I got out there, Bohannan and Dickerson, the deputy I’d met at the station (he was on Moran’s team) were holding back Moran, with some difficulty, and Jace and a couple of other deputies were holding back Jess, with even more difficulty.
Dern was blustering while his guys formed a shield around him.
Polly looked like I felt, except a hundred times worse. Like she didn’t know whether to cry, shout or throw up.
Though, there was shouting going on, back and forth between the two camps.
I didn’t get close, but I got close enough to say, “Jesse.”
Like magic, instantly he stopped fighting to get to Dern.
Moran wasn’t ready to let it go.
But Bohannan pushed him off, he flew back five feet, set his body to charge again, and Bohannan barked, “This won’t help.”
Moran wasn’t thrilled about having to pull himself together, but he started doing it.
So at least whatever that was, was sorted.
Except I was wrong.
In the melee, I hadn’t noticed how pissed Bohannan was.
And he…
Was…
Pissed.
He turned, flicked two irate fingers at Dern and declared, “You’re done. Get off my land.”
“This is a crime scene,” Dern snapped. “And I’m the sheriff.”
“If you don’t go back to your office and resign, I’m making a phone call. In an hour, there’ll be an emergency session of the county commissioners, and you’ll be facing recall, but in the meantime, they’ll suspend you from duty.”
Dern assumed an arrogant expression. “The commission would never do that.”
He had friends there.
Bohannan’s other arm came out, and he pointed at the pier.
“You don’t think so?”
Dern tried to stare him down, but there was a flicker of uncertainty.
“She’s on you,” Bohannan said low.
“Fuck you, Cade,” Dern bit.
Bohannan gave up on him and addressed the crowd. “We need everything we can get from this. Every…fucking…thing. Or one of your daughters might wash up next. Get your fucking shit tight. This isn’t about politics. This is about girls.”
This was about girls.
Oh God.
Some on Dern’s side looked chastened, others continued to look combative.
But Bohannan was done with them.
He walked to Polly.
“You give him that, you’re not only fired, I’ll bring you up on charges for theft and obstruction,” Dern threatened.
“Arrest me,” she snapped. “See how that’ll play at the polls.”
And she handed a brown folder to Bohannan.
“We got a girl lying on that goddamned dock whose parents don’t know where she is and don’t know yet she’s not coming home,” Moran declared in an imposing, but pleasantly deep voice. “Let’s get this shit done and her out of here.”
Men moved.
Bohannan flicked his eyes at me, to Polly and back to me.
I went to Polly.
“Come up for a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll,” I urged.
She was staring at the pier.
“That’s Malorie,” she whispered.
I turned to the pier to see the tarp had been pulled away from her face.
She’d had blonde hair.
My jaw set with a tingling ache, a precursor to getting sick.
Except in a casket, I’d never seen a dead body before.
I looked away, casting my mind anywhere other than to what I just saw, and it set to thinking, Where had I heard the name Malorie?
“Get up to the house, baby,” Bohannan ordered, it was brusque and still pissed, but edged with gentle.