Read Online A Witness Above by Andy Straka - Free Book Online Page B

Marcia in her hotel room in Williamsburg to let her know what was happening and that I'd be gone.
    “Toronto. Sure, the bird man. You two used to be partners, right?”
    “You seem to know a lot about me,” I said.
    “I like to know about people, especially those that walk into my jail.”
    We arrived at his office. It was a spacious corner room with a window that looked out the back of the building on some shrubs and beyond to a brightly lit lawn. Built-in bookshelves lined one wall, though he didn't seem to have much reading material, mostly training or procedural manuals. The plush carpeting was easy on my feet. The sheriff settled into the leather chair behind the desk.
    “ ‘The Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds,’ “ I said.
    “Say what?”
    I took an arm chair opposite. “Nothing. Poetry, e.e. cummings.”
    He snickered and picked up a piece of paper on his desk. Reading. “Let's see, now. You used to work Homicide in New York. Lost your position under, ah, special circumstances. …” We both knew what circumstances he meant. He looked up at me as if waiting for me to offer more of an explanation, but I didn't.
    He went on: “Private investigator—you didn't tell me that the other night. Been doin’ it quite awhile. Says here you got a permit to carry. License is up to date.”
    “I would've run for office too, but I'm not good-looking enough.”
    He didn't see the joke. Great guy to work for. Perfect and humorless.
    “You know why your daughter's been arrested, don't you?”
    “She said you found drugs in her car.”
    “That's right. And you were talking with her Friday night when we, ah, first met.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Come over here to Leonardston often, do you, Mr. Pavlicek?”
    “Occasionally.”
    He reached into a stack of papers on his desk and pulled out what looked like a fax. “I was reading a report from the state police on a different case this weekend—not your daughter's, you understand—and I come across some-thin’ interesting. Your name, in fact. I even spoke with an agent”—he scanned the fax—”Ferrier. Special Agent William Ferrier. He says you're the one found our late great Dewayne Turner dead.”
    “Unfortunately.” This was starting to get uncomfortable.
    “So let me understand here. You happen to be the one who finds a body way over there in Madison County. Vic happens to be a drug dealer from Leonardston. Then you show up that night in my town talking with your daughter in a bar.” Cahill's was more of a restaurant than a bar, but I let it pass. “Then, just a couple nights later, your daughter's arrested for possession with intention to distribute. I got it right so far, Mr. Pavlicek?”
    I nodded.
    “Don't all that seem a little unusual to you?”
    “A little.”
    He smirked. “Your daughter was pretty close with Dewayne Turner, you know.”
    I didn't, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. I nodded.
    “If you're dirty, I'm gonna nail you.” Just like that. John Wayne.
    “I'm not dirty.”
    His jaw worked hard at a smile. “Your denial is reassuring. … You know, Ferrier didn't exactly say this, but if I was in your shoes, with your background and all, and I was privy to some, let's say, privileged information about my daughter, I might be inclined to come over here and poke around a bit.” He stared at me for a long second.
    I shrugged. I needed to at least try to neutralize this guy. “Next, you can tell me this isn't New York … this is official police business … I'd do the same if I were in your shoes. But look, sheriff, the way I see things, we're all on the same side here.”
    “Oh, really? I'm glad to hear you say that.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head.
    “Nicole says she's innocent.”
    “Don't they all?”
    “You okay with me talking to her then?”
    He waved his hand and sat forward again. “All right. I won't stop you