Suddenly, I heard the sound of tires screeching behind me and then the rusty scrape of a car door swinging open. “Hey!” a booming voice called out behind us. “Coogler! Turn them kids loose.”
Vera.
For a second, it felt like the earth was moving beneath us as Vera stormed in. We all froze, me still straddling Coogler’s back and Sam on the ground caught up in the knot of the man’s fist. Vera barreled in, first helping Sam from the ground. I jumped off Coogler’s back. She pushed the two of us behind her.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?! What are you doing?” she yelled. Vera, dressed to the nines in a fire-engine-red dress, pearls, and heels, looked like she was going out for a gala celebration instead of rescuing a couple kids from a backwoods sheriff.
“This ain’t got nothing to do with you, Miss Vera. I’m aiming to find out what they know about Willie Jay. He ain’t been seen for two days and I think them kids might know something about it.”
“With all the people around this town that hate that mean-ass son of a bitch, you may as well arrest half of Chillicothe.”
“I told you,” Coogler barked through panting breaths. “This here ain’t none of yo’ business.”
“These kids are my business.”
Coogler swiped a hairy arm across his forehead and placed the stick back inside the holster on his belt. He tugged at his ear where I left teeth marks and blood. “Like I said, Miss Vera, this don’t concern you. Now step aside, I’m gon’ take them young’uns in for questioning.”
“Like hell you will. These kids staying right here.”
Vera and Coogler stood facing each other. She looked like she could take him out and never get a single wrinkle in her red dress. But Coogler carried a gun and a billy club to make up for the lost inches. Two giants.
Vera broke the impasse. “Your wife at home, Coogler? Maybe she might like to hear about that young girl you brought over to my place a couple months ago. What was she . . . two, three months pregnant?”
Coogler slowly backed away from Vera. He blinked a few times before he looked over at me and Sam. “You ain’t heard the last of me. I’ll be back and I’ll bring help with me next time.” He shuffled back to his patrol car and threw his weight inside before speeding off on screeching tires.
Chapter 28
I’m a big girl. I can handle this by myself. I left the nursing home, went back to work, and sat in my office behind closed doors, making more false promises to myself. I can handle this. I can handle this. But how? Juice had offered to come by, to help me in any way he could. I thanked him but declined his offer. I didn’t call Grace, either.
I rubbed my temples, trying to massage away the same dull headache I’d had since I’d looked at Sam’s lifeless body earlier that morning. Then I remembered the Libertad deal. Both Michael and Gallagher were concerned about it. No paper trail. No files or emails. The voluminous bank account in Kentucky. The Libertad deal was a fraud and Michael and Gallagher knew it. Did Jonathan kill them, too, to keep them quiet?
“Ellice, we need to talk.” I looked up. Jonathan stood in the doorway of my office, his face flushed and angry. “We need to talk right now.”
My heart seemed to stop, then roar back again with the rush of blood pounding through my ears. Every fiber inside of me wanted to kill him. If I owned a gun, I couldn’t trust myself to show restraint. “Get the hell out of my office! I’m calling the police!” I turned my back and reached for the telephone. I heard the door slam behind me.
I whirled my chair back around to face him. “What are you doing? I said get out!”
“I had a conversation with Detective Bradford. So you told her that I’m working with your brother, that I’ve got him trailing lawyers. Are you sure you want to play this game with me?”
“I know you killed my brother and now the police do, too. Get out of my office. I won’t tell you again!”
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. Something dark rose up in him and swept across his face. He quietly strolled across the room. Another rush of panic flooded through me. I immediately stood up, trying to think two steps ahead of him. How would I get out of this office if he was blocking the door? Could I get to the phone and call security or 911? Where was Anita? He proceeded around my desk. Slowly. Deliberately. I could feel my heart rise up to meet my throat. I didn’t flinch. We stood face-to-face, so close that I could smell the sharp bite of garlic on his breath.
“Let me make this as plain as I can.” His voice sizzled in my ears like hot grease across a cast-iron skillet. “I didn’t kill your brother, but if I get another visit from the police, I’m going to point them in the direction of a murder they might be more interested in.”