AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sheriff Davis,” she says. “He was here. Drinking. Grabbing the asses of my barmaids and servers. Acting the fool as usual. I watched him get in his car and drive off.”
“How many drinks did he have?”
“Musta been five or six. Whiskey.”
“And he left at about what time?” I ask.
“Just after midnight.” Missy sniffs. “And I heard the crash.”
“What?”
“I heard it happen. When he crashed down the street. I ran out, and I saw the scene. Sheriff Davis killed Kevin Walsh. He killed him while drunk driving, and he never paid the price for it. And it didn’t matter what I said or who I talked to, it didn’t make a damn whit of difference.” Missy’s eyes fill with tears. “Jesse, you got to understand, I didn’t want to keep it to myself. I tried. I tried.”
I reach over the desk and squeeze her hand.
“I believe you. But I’ve got a tough question to ask you, Missy.”
“Go on, then.”
“Will you testify about this in court?” I ask. “Because I’m going to build a case against him and make sure this goes there. I’m going to make sure that this town knows what the sheriff did to Heatstroke and, most importantly, to the Walsh family.”
“You do that, you’ll go down in flames,” Missy whispers.
“I don’t care,” I say. “I’ll burn the world down for her.”
“All right, honey,” Missy says. “Then I’ll stand next to the bonfire. Just you tell me what you need from me.”
I nod.
“We play our cards right, nothing bad will come of this. I promise you that. I’ll make sure that Longhorn’s makes it through. Times have changed, Missy. Men like Sheriff Davis will pay for what they’ve done.”
“I hope you’re right, honey.”
Forty-Five
MARCI
I don’t recognizethe number on the screen, but I excuse myself and head into the office. The pictures on the wall, my father, me, make me smile. The ones with Billy turn my insides into mush, but the path he’s taken is one I can’t follow him down.
“Hello?”
“Marci, it’s Billy.”
My skin goes cold.
There’s a storm gathering outside. Thunder rumbles in the distance, the sky bruised, ready to weep on Heatstroke. I clasp my phone to my ear, locked on that view out of my office window.
“Sissy, I don’t have much time to talk.”
I can’t believe he’s calling me after everything.
“What do you want, Billy?”
“I need your help,” he says. “These cops are talking about charging me with a lot of real serious stuff, and I don’t want to?—”
“Billy, you threatened me with a gun.”
“Yeah, but it was like a fake gun.”
