A Spirited Gift

And that was a different story. I hoped the police would figure it out quickly. The longer people were left to wonder who the murderer was, the worse it would be for Duck. I hated to be part of the crowd wishing Matthew Wright had killed Sandi because he couldn’t break up with her, but it would be better news for the residents of Duck if that were the case.

In the meantime, I had to focus on getting my father out of jail.

“I don’t think they’ll let you take him home because you give them a big smile,” Kevin said as he parked his pickup in the Dare County municipal parking lot.

“I don’t see why not,” I argued. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Tim misunderstood the situation.”

“You probably should have brought Tim with you. As arresting officer—if he agreed with you, it would be much easier.”

“You’re probably right. But that would’ve meant telling Tim who he was. By tonight, everyone in Duck would know my father was sleeping at the shop. I was trying to avoid that.”

“Let’s see what we can do.” He opened the door and took my hand as we walked across the parking lot. “Maybe you’ll get lucky. It seems to me that your father has already run into a streak of luck by meeting you.”

“I don’t know if he’ll feel that way, since he’s lost everything. I don’t really know what he’s like, Kevin. But I know he was going to sleep behind the trash bin. No one should be down that low.”

He kissed my forehead. “You’re a very good person, Dae. I hope you won’t let him take advantage of you.”

“I’m sure you won’t let him—you seem to follow me everywhere. Just stop him before that happens.”

“I wish I could.” He opened the glass door that was still sporting large masking tape X’s to protect it from the storm.

The county jail was bustling with hundreds of people. They all seemed to be going in different directions. The woman at the front desk looked especially harried—there was a pencil stuck almost straight up in her dark hair and a long pen streak on one cheek.

“I can’t do what you’re asking,” she told me. “But lucky for you, the assistant DA is here, and she can probably help you. Lord knows we need to get some of these people out of here. The state will shut us down if they find out how many inmates we have right now.”

She pointed to a door down the hall on the right. Kevin and I continued our search there. I knocked on the door labeled “Conference Room,” and when there was no answer, I opened it and went inside.

People were lined up wall to wall waiting to talk with a diminutive woman in a navy blue suit who was seated at a long table. There were so many briefcases—probably one for every lawyer present—they could’ve opened a luggage store.

People ranging from senior citizens to teenagers were trying to get their cases heard. Everything from breaking and entering (supposedly to get out of the storm) to stealing cars (to get away from the storm) was on the docket. No wonder they wanted to get a few people out of there.

I wasn’t sure what the protocol was in cases like this, but when the assistant DA called, “Next!” Kevin pushed me forward. I stared at her for a moment, then told her the whole story about my father mistakenly being arrested in my shop.

I expected some questions, maybe paperwork, asking to talk to the arresting officer—everything except her saying, “So you aren’t willing to press charges. Here you go.” She handed me a file and I was dismissed from the group that surrounded her. “Take that to the sergeant at the admitting desk. He’ll tell you where you can pick him up. Next!”

I was stunned and happy. I almost didn’t know what to do. I’d been expecting such a major ordeal, and it was nothing. I grabbed Kevin’s hand and we left the crowded room.

“I guess they have so many people in custody that they don’t want to deal with anyone they don’t have to.” He shrugged. “You lucked out.”

“I can’t believe it,” I agreed. “Let’s find my father and get out of here.”

We walked around until we found the right desk and gave the man behind it the file. He looked at it, shrugged and called to have Danny Evans brought up. He stamped the file, and we moved to one side so the people behind us could do their business.

Too bad the people behind us were police officers—Tim and Scott.

“Dae?” Tim looked surprised and puzzled. “Brickman? What are you doing here?”

Chapter 27

A hundred excuses came to mind. I was the mayor. I could be conducting all sorts of town business with the admitting office at the county jail. None of those excuses made any sense, so none of them made it to my lips.

Tim and Scott held a large, burly man dressed in overalls between them. He was covered in what appeared to be blood. There was a large cut on his head.

“Mr. Borden?” I looked a little closer and realized that I knew him. “Are you all right?”

“Sure thing, Mayor. It was nice of you to be here and see me off. You should’a seen the other fella.” He chuckled. “He was a mess.”