Twenty-Nine and a Half Reasons Page 94
Trying not to hyperventilate, I half-smiled, half-grimaced. “There’s a teeny-tiny problem with that plan. I don’t have a car.”
“What?”
I shrugged. “This seems to be a thing.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Well… when I had to meet Daniel Crocker at the Trading Post, I had no car. And when I saved Joe from the warehouse, no car again. I’m noticing a trend here.”
He muttered then glared at me. “Fine. We’ll take mine.”
“To the woods?”
“No, through the drive-thru of Chuck and Cluck. Of course to the woods.”
Oh, crappy doodles. Think of something! “What about my diary?”
“What diary?”
“The diary I have hidden in my house listing all the evidence I have against you.”
He studied me for a moment before breaking into a grin. “You don’t have a diary. If you did, you would have given it to the police already.”
I snorted. “The Henryetta Police don’t believe a word I say. They probably think I faked my attack last night. I wouldn’t give them my evidence. They’d just waste it. I’m savin’ it.”
“Saving it for what?”
Oh, dear. For what, indeed? “For my meeting with Mason Deveraux this afternoon. And the judge.” I nodded. “Yeah, I’m bringin’ it to them this afternoon.”
He looked perplexed by this unexpected dilemma.
“Not to worry,” I said. “We can just swing by my house and pick it up.”
“Why in the world are you helping me?”
“My momma, God rest her soul, taught me to be kind to those less fortunate than myself.”
He snorted. “You consider me less fortunate?”
For all of his recent boorish behavior, Jimmy DeWade had been the epitome of a Southern gentleman. I hoped there was still part of that in him. I gave him a stern look. “Is your momma a God-fearin’ Christian woman, Mr. DeWade?”
He tugged at his collar.
“Is your momma still alive?”
He looked down at the newspaper. “Yeah.”
“I can only imagine what she’s gonna say when she finds out what you’re up to.”
Chuckling, he glanced up with an evil look. “I thought you said I was gonna get away with it. The Henryetta police are a band of imbeciles.”
My eyebrows rose. “Ah, but a momma always knows, doesn’t she?”
His smile fell and his face paled. “Enough talking. Time to go.”
I couldn’t believe that line worked. “I still have to pee.”
“You can pee when you get home.”
Was he going to try to drown me again? My heart tried to throw itself from my chest. Calm down. I’d done pretty well so far, in fact, I couldn’t believe how well I’d done. But we were still in a public place. If he got me alone…I felt like I was going to throw up.
My phone rang.
Jimmy shook his head with a sneer. “You’re quite the popular girl, aren’t you?” He picked it up. “Joe.”
“That’s my boyfriend, the state—”
“—police detective. Got it.”
I grimaced and gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, here’s the thing about Joe. You don’t want to tick him off. He’s got this really bad temper.”
The phone continued to ring in his hand. His grip tightened. “How bad?”
“Did you hear what happened to Daniel Crocker’s brother when Joe busted their ring a couple of months ago?”
“Daniel Crocker didn’t have a brother.”
I cringed. “Yeah, that’s what they want you to think. If word had gotten out what Joe did to him…” I shook my head. “Let’s just say, after Clinton was governor, the state police learned how to sweep messes so far under the rug that entire towns have been known to disappear.” Lordy. Where had that come from? I tried to ignore the fact that I had become a bald-faced liar. Apparently, facing my impending murder brought out a scrappiness I didn’t know I had.
He stared at the phone, then stuffed it in his pocket. “Yeah, right.”
I shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Picking up the newspaper, Jimmy stood. “Time to go.”
I glanced out the window. Officer Ernie was meandering across the street toward the coffee shop, his mouth set in his no-nonsense purse. If only I could stall Jimmy a bit longer.
But Jimmy followed my gaze and noticed the officer. He pushed me toward the hall. “I think we’ll take the back door.”
Before I lost sight of the window, I saw Joe running down the street, a good fifty feet away. He’d probably found out where I was from Violet. If we left the coffee shop, how would he know where to find me? Joe was going to be furious that I hadn’t gone with my sister.
Panic tightened my chest and I stopped moving.
Jimmy pressed the tip of the gun in my back. “I know you’re thinking ‘Oh, he won’t shoot me in public,’ but you’re wrong. I killed Frank Mitchell and I tried to strangle you last night. I’ll shoot you. But you’re more valuable to me alive right now, so the choice is yours. Stay here and get shot, or go with me.”
One last glance confirmed Joe wouldn’t reach me in time. I had no idea how much damage Jimmy’s gun would do, but I wasn’t willing to take the chance.
“I’ll go with you.” My breath caught and the words came out in a squeak. My irritation rose, momentarily overshadowing my fear. I didn’t want to give this man the satisfaction of hearing that I was afraid.