Truth and Consequences (19 page)

Jason slumped in the hard wooden chair and stared at the scuffed green wall. Did all law enforcement agencies order from some huge wholesaler of puke green paint?

Will Botine entered the room again, bearing two cups of coffee and a wide, jovial smile. The hair on Jason’s nape rose. He’d seen that same smile too often on his high school principal’s face—right before she suspended him.

Botine set a cup of coffee in front of him and gestured at the man who’d paused in the doorway. “Deputy, this is Tom McMillian, our district attorney. He happened to be over in the state patrol offices across the street. I thought I’d have him listen in on our conversation, if you don’t mind.”

“Why should I mind?” Jason crossed his arms and eyed the tall man clad in khakis and a starched oxford shirt. So this was Kathleen’s ex. McMillian watched him with sharp blue eyes, his dark brown hair showing signs of a receding hairline. Jason couldn’t—didn’t want to—see him and Kathleen together.

McMillian stepped into the room and closed the door. “Do you want a lawyer present, Mr. Harding?”

Jason lifted an eyebrow. “Do I need one?”

“Your Miranda rights guarantee you one. Even if you can’t afford one.” McMillian glanced at the open file he held.

“Well, I haven’t been Mirandized.” Jason narrowed his eyes, anger trembling in his gut. “I wasn’t aware I was a suspect, either.”

“You killed a man tonight,” Botine said.

“A man who was going to shoot me or Chief Deputy Reese.”

McMillian looked up, fixing laser-like eyes on him. “Jim Ed’s your cousin, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. What of it?”

A sharp rap interrupted McMillian’s reply. He stepped forward and opened the door. Jim Ed and Thatcher stood in the hall. Jim Ed shot a sharp glance at Jason as Thatcher entered the room with an “aw-shucks” grin.

“Will,” Thatcher said, “we’d like to sit in on this.”

A knowing look passed between Botine and McMillian, but Botine waved a hand at the two vacant chairs in the room. “By all means, Sheriff. Deputy Harding, I’d like for you to repeat your statement for Mr. McMillian.”

Jason recounted the events again, his gaze not wavering from McMillian’s.

Thatcher harrumphed. “He didn’t have a choice, Will. Johnny meant to kill ‘em. He probably saved Jim Ed’s life here.”

His face a polite mask, Botine looked far from impressed. “Tell me about that cut on your side, Deputy.”

“Ran into a barbed wire fence.”

Botine leaned forward. “Our lab tech tells me that’s human blood on the knife found in Mitchell’s pocket.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Type AB negative human blood. Pretty darn rare.”

Jason pasted a bored smile on his face. “Really.”

McMillian flipped through the documents in the file. “
Your
blood type, Deputy Harding.”

“Yeah, it is.” Jason nodded, still smiling. “Weird coincidence, huh?”

“Very, since only one percent of the population has that blood type. Pretty coincidental for two people with that rare type to have contact with Mitchell recently, wouldn’t you say?”

Jason shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I failed statistics in college. Not very good with numbers, in case you don’t have my bank account information in there.”

Jim Ed snickered and McMillian glared at him.

Botine leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “About as coincidental as you two being involved in two fatal shootings in a goddamn week.”

“One shooting,” Jim Ed corrected. “The other was a suicide, remember?”

“Not according to the evidence.” McMillian dropped the folder on the table, notes and photos spilling across the scarred tabletop. “Kathleen sure does put together a pretty case, doesn’t she, Will? Airtight.”

At the possessive pride in McMillian’s voice, Jason gritted his teeth. To his right, Jim Ed sat straighter in his chair, gaze riveted to the papers covering the table.

Thatcher rose, hat in hand. “That’s enough for tonight. The boy’s answered your questions. It was a clean shooting and you know it. Cut him loose.”

Botine gestured at the door with one finger. “He’s free to go.”

Jim Ed clasped his shoulder hard. “C’mon. I’ll give you a ride home.”

From the hallway, Price’s voice echoed. “Hey, Botine. Did you pick up the Haynes County file from our office? Kath can’t find it and she’s having a fit.”

Her voice trailed away when she appeared in the doorway. Her gaze darted around the room and she looked away from Jim Ed as if he were a pile of dog feces she’d stepped in. “What’s going on?”

Botine gathered the notes and photos and returned them to the folder. “Little incident during a drug raid. Take this back to Palmer. What are you two doing here?”

“Catching up on paperwork. We went to see her parents, but her mama’s not feeling well.”

McMillian eased by her into the hallway, eagerness plain in his face. “She in the office, Altee?”

Altee rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I just say that?”

“Will, I’ll be right back.” He strode down the hall without acknowledging the others.

“This should be fun,” Altee muttered and followed him.

Frowning, Jason stared after the other man. Territorial urges that had nothing to do with being a Fed struggled in his chest. He didn’t want the guy near Kathleen.

As they walked out into the balmy night air, his cousin’s gaze lay on him like a soaked blanket.

In the parking lot, Thatcher adjusted his belt and slapped Jim Ed on the shoulder. “I think you’ve got everything under control here, son. I’m gonna head home and see what Marilyn fixed for supper. Jason, take care of that side, y’hear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Thatcher’s car eased out of the parking lot, leaving Jason to face his cousin’s cool stare. The security lights buzzed overhead, insects fluttering under the seductive glow.

Jim Ed leaned against his truck, arms crossed over his chest. “You were with Calvert today, weren’t you? Out on the lake.”

Unease tightened Jason’s throat, but he adopted a relaxed, unconcerned stance. “I was with Kathleen. But, yeah, Calvert was there.”

“This mess has gone on long enough.” Jim Ed straightened and stepped closer, the move a clear attempt at intimidation. Jason refused to back up. “This whole thing with Palmer is over. Understand?”

“Yeah.” Jason bit the word off, wanting to tell his cousin where he could get off.

“Stay away from her, cousin. If she won’t back off, I’ll make sure she does. But you’re out of it.”

Hurt her and I’ll break your freakin’ neck.

He couldn’t say it, but he glared the threat at Jim Ed. The most he could do was warn Kathleen, tell her to watch her back. And maybe find a little comfort in the knowledge that she was probably more capable than he was of breaking Jim Ed’s thick neck.

“Get in the truck.” Jim Ed jerked his head toward the vehicle.

He bristled then. “I’m not one of your damn young’uns, Jim Ed.”

His cousin shot him a withering look. “You might as well be.”

The complex’s glass front door shot open with enough force to rattle the frame. Kathleen’s furious voice carried across the humid night air. “Damn it, Tom, how many times do I have to tell you I don’t care about that money. Do what you want with it. Start a scholarship fund. Donate it to the women’s center. Buy uniforms for one of the local ball teams.
I don’t care!
”

Frustrated tears hovered in her tone and Jason took a half-step toward the sidewalk, forestalled by Jim Ed’s steel forearm.

Kathleen shoved files into a soft-sided leather bag, her hands fumbling, and McMillian reached for it. She jerked it out of his grasp. “Kath, I simply thought you’d want some input into—”

“No. You want to remind me of a connection that’s long gone. And the fact that you bring this up
every
year at his
birthday
just reinforces how dead that connection is.”

McMillian threw his hands out in a tense, frustrated gesture. “What do you want me to do? It’s like you expect me to read your damn mind. God knows I’ve never been able to read you at all.”

Her harsh laugh vibrated with mockery. “Read me? You didn’t want to read me. You wanted me to fall in line with your plans, which is why this whole ‘Kath, I want your input’ crap is just that. Total crap.”

“That is not true. I always consulted you—”

“After you made the decisions.” She walked away, keys jingling. “That’s why we’re divorced, Tom. Because you never wanted to see anyone’s way but your own.”

“We’re divorced because you buried yourself with Everett. I spent eight years trying to dig you out of that grave. Hell, there’s not a man alive who could.” McMillian stalked into the building.

Head tilted back, Kathleen closed her eyes, and the pained fury on her pale face galvanized Jason. He pushed Jim Ed’s arm out of the way and strode across the parking lot.

“Kathleen.” He touched her arms with gentle hands and her eyes snapped open. She glanced toward the building and back at him. A sigh shook her body, her slender frame trembling under his easy hold.

“I guess you heard the whole mess, right?”

“Yeah.” He tucked a stray wisp of coppery hair behind her ear.

She darted a look over his shoulder, her face tightening with dislike. Her voice lowered to an intense whisper. “He’s watching us.”

“I know.”

“Are you all right? Botine wouldn’t let me and Altee take the call or allow me in the interrogation room. He wanted to see if he could rattle Jim Ed.”

“Was your ex in on it, too?”

“Tom? No. All he had to hear was we possibly had an arrest against a Haynes County deputy and he was over here like a shot.” Disdain darkened her eyes. “It’s an election year, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I hadn’t.” He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold on for dear life, let her soothe away the self-disgust eating at his insides.

Her gaze sharpened, a concerned frown wrinkling her brow. “Jason. You’re not okay, are you?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ve got to go.”

Concern softened her face. “I could take you home.”

“No.” He let his hands drop from her body. He sighed, a rough, weary sound. “I need you to act pissed off at me.”

“What? Why—”

“Because I just dumped you. Under orders.” She started to look over his shoulder again and he reached for her arm. “Don’t look at him. I want you to shove me away and go back inside. Wait until we’re gone. And don’t go home tonight. Go to Price’s or Calvert’s if you have to. I don’t want you alone.”

She shook her head. “Jason, what—”

“Just do it, Kathleen. Please.”

Real frustration slid over her face, but the trust in her eyes gave him hope. She jerked her arm away and pushed both hands against his chest. “You go to hell, too, Harding.”

The words rang through the still air, kicking him in the gut even though he knew they weren’t real, and she spun, stalking across the parking lot. Jason watched her go, trying to shake the sense of isolation squeezing his heart into a cold, empty knot.

He turned and strode back to the truck. Jim Ed waited, arms crossed over his chest, his face thunderous. Jason met his burning gaze. “Happy now?”

“Yeah.” Jim Ed swaggered to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel.

Glad somebody was. Jason climbed into the passenger seat and leaned against the headrest. He stared out the window. A dull ache gripped his temples, but if he closed his eyes, the image of his bullets ripping into Johnny Mitchell’s body would play against his eyelids.

He’d killed someone’s daddy. He hadn’t had a choice, not really. Mitchell would have killed him or Jim Ed, maybe both. His mind accepted that. His conscience kept hanging up on the terrified cries of Mitchell’s children. They would grow up without their father and he knew firsthand what that did to a kid.

“You’re over there feeling guilty, aren’t you?” Jim Ed’s voice, full of terse disdain, cut through the darkness.

Jason tapped his fingers against his knee. “What if I am?”

“Then you’re a fucking fool. He deserved it and guilt won’t get you nowhere.”

“Whatever, Jim Ed.”

“I suppose you’re pining for Palmer, too?”

“I got rid of her because you wanted me to. Ain’t that enough?”

“No woman’s worth that. The only thing they’re good for you can get anywhere.”

“I’m sure Stacy would be mighty glad to hear you say that.”

“She gets what she wants out of me. The question is what did Palmer want out of you?”

“Maybe she just wanted me.”

Jim Ed snorted. “More likely she thought she’d use you to get to me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, cousin.” Jason enjoyed the small pleasure of throwing Jim Ed’s words back in his face. “I don’t think her life revolves around bringing you down.”

“Shows what you know.”

Jason ground his teeth at the sarcasm. The tone reminded him all too much of his uncle’s derision—against him, his mother, his cousins, his absent father. “I knew enough to save your sorry self, didn’t I?”