Page 59 of Heather's Truth
“You’re serious?” Ross swore. “I read the initial report this afternoon.”
“I am serious.” Dale stared at the guard, watching the man’s bravado fade as he listened to the conversation. “The man was killed by dogs. There was a handler close by to take them away.”
“You’re crazy,” the guard protested. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Quiet,” Heather snapped at him. “Be grateful we’re not leaving you here to rot with these dogs.”
“Nichols, who’s out there with you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dale said. “You’ll find the suspect at the north end of the service road in Midland Bay Park. You’ll probably want to pick up J.C. Morris on your way back to Haleswood. The murder case is their jurisdiction.”
“Great. Eva will be thrilled with me,” Ross said.
“I need an extremely low profile on this.”
“You don’t need much, do you? I’ve got an hour’s drive minimum one way, a deputy to roust, and a holding cell to borrow on the QT. Christ, Nichols.”
“You won’t have a problem with traffic,” Dale said, hearing Ross’s truck engine rumble to life. “Look, if I had other options you’d still be sleeping. I’ll owe you.”
“Damn right,” Ross said. “Good thing I know you’re good for it.”
“Thanks for keeping it quiet.” He couldn’t emphasize that enough. Lester would bolt if he got word one of his men was in custody. “I don’t want this arrest public knowledge yet.”
“I’m hearing that. If you think I’m an idiot, why did you call me?”
“No one else answered.”
Ross swore and then laughed. “I’m on my way to pick up your suspect. Save the story for poker night. You bring the beer.”
The call ended, Dale tucked his phone in one pocket and pulled zip ties out of another.
If there was one thing Cypress Security was known for, it was discretion. Dale and Heather were still a long way from meeting with the prosecutor, but he felt better for making the call.
He took another half step toward the suspect. “Think you can walk?”
“No.”
“How far to the road, Heather?”
“Fifteen minutes since we don’t have to be quiet about it.”
Dale shrugged. “Your ride won’t be here for a while yet so you’ve got time to crawl.” He gestured for the man to get started. “However you choose to get there, you’re going in for questioning for the murder of Terry Watson.”
“I’m not falling for your sick joke.”
Heather took a threatening step in the guard’s direction. “I saw the body. It’s no joke.”
The guard’s eyes went wide and he turned back to Dale. “Hell no! You’re not putting me on the hook for murder,” he pleaded.
Dale checked his watch. “Where were you about twenty-four hours ago?”
“Home.”
Dale took a knee, staying out of the guard’s reach. “You can do better than that.”
“I don’t have to. I didn’t kill nobody.”
“Anybody,” Heather corrected absently.