Page 75 of A Little Taste
“No blood.” She shines her light on the spot where they just removed the body.
She lifts her chin, and our eyes meet. I’m about to ask when Edward scares the bejesus out of me by breaking into a loud as fuckRooo!
Britt’s eyes widen, and she goes to where her dog is sniffing all around the ground where the dead body’s head and shoulders had been. But instead of focusing on the place where he lay, he goes the opposite way, into the stalks before coming back.
“He recognizes the scent.” She takes pictures of the ground above the body where Edward is moving back and forth.
I straighten, putting my hands on my hips. “We’ve found our suspect?”
Her lips press together, and she’s focused on the ground. “I’d like to think so.”
Straightening, she crosses her arms, gazing at the empty hollow on the ground. Her brow is furrowed, and instead of looking satisfied, worry lines her pretty face.
Stepping carefully around the crime scene, I go to where she’s standing. “Is it a suicide or is it foul play?”
My voice seems to rouse her from her thoughts. She blinks a few times before placing her hand on my arm and smiling up at me. “We have to find the weapon. Then we have to find out who he was.”
“The coroner should have what we need tomorrow. We’ve pretty much done all we can do here. Let me drive you home.”
Edward is at her side, and she slides her hand over his head. “Sounds good. Then you need to take care of your little man. He’s had a scary night.”
Owen. I nod, giving her a smile, falling for her a little more for worrying about my son. “I’ll keep you posted.”
* * *
“You can’t holdme here without a charge.” Bull Jones is in the single-cell jail we have in the back of the courthouse when I arrive the next morning.
I’m walking through the back door, a box of Krispy Kreme donuts in hand for when Owen’s done with Sunday school, and the last thing I want to see is fucking Bull Jones.
“Who put you in there?” My brow is furrowed, and my tone is less than happy.
“One of those Beaufort County assholes.” Bull scowls at me from behind the bars. “Said he had reason to believe I wasn’t where I was supposed to be yesterday evening. What kind ofUsual Suspectsbullshit is this?”
My throat tightens, and as much as I despise Bull Jones, as much as I don’t trust him or his family as far as I can throw them, I also don’t believe in putting people in jail on a hunch.
“Where were you last night around eight p.m.?”
“I don’t know.” Bull’s tone is defiant. “I ain’t no freakin’ court reporter.”
“Were you anywhere near the festival grounds?”
“Fuck, no. I don’t like all that hypocritical bullshit. Nobody in this town likes me, and I don’t intend to act like I like them. I was down by the water, picking up chicks.”
Squaring off, I put my hands on my hips as I face him in the cell. Our eyes clash, and the urge to punch this dirtbag in the nose is so strong.
Only, I want to do it for the right reason.
“I don’t like you, Bull. But I’m a man of the law, and I don’t believe in holding someone without a reason.” I take the key out of the cabinet beside the door and walk over to turn the lock on the small cell. “Hear this.” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Don’t give me a reason.”
Bull’s eyes narrow, and he sizes me up. “You think you’re so clean and proper. You’re one bad turn from being just like me.”
“Nope. I’m not.” Catching him by the elbow, I escort him to the back door, kicking it open and shoving him through it into the parking lot. “Get on, and keep your nose clean.”
Dusting my palms together, I scoop up the box of donuts and carry it to the break room where Doug is just arriving. “We got an ID on the body!”
“That was fast.”
“Coroner found a wallet in the inside pocket of his overcoat.” Doug places a printout of a driver’s license on the table in front of me. “Gary Blue. His address is on Route 109 in Rockville.”