Read Online Bash, Volume III by Candace Blevins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Candace Blevins
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on me.
I was about to let Dawg know we’d be okay without him for the rest of our talk, when he asked her, “You haven’t heard from the police or FBI anymore, since they stopped by Tuesday?”
“Wednesday, while I was at work, Agent Graham texted me pictures of shoes like I’d described, and asked me to verify they were what I saw. One definitely was, the others I thought probably were, but they hadn’t stuck in my head as clearly as the high tops. Brain let me know they’d finally gone in to process the crime scene at the house. From what Drake’s reporting, so far the evidence matches my story.”
“Just remember, if they take you in for questioning, you stay quiet,” Dawg said, his face dark. “They’re allowed to lie about the evidence they have, so don’t believe a word they say. You can smell a lie on a normal human, but statistically, there are too many sociopath cops, and they don’t smell like they’re lying. If they get you off guard and you’re tempted to believe them, ask for Johnson — he smells like he’s lying when he is, but don’t believe your nose for anyone else.”
She looked back and forth to both of us. “Is there something else I should know?”
Dawg shook his head. “No, but historically, when they realize their case is at a dead end they start bringing people in and flinging shit around until someone talks. They’re gonna see you as the weak link.”
Her eyes met mine and the uncertainty in them broke my heart. “You’ll be fine,” I told her. “Johnson and Graham aren’t your friend, but I don’t think they’re going to let anything bad happen unless they’re certain of your guilt, which neither are. If they bring you in, smile and laugh and cut-up, but stay on your toes and don’t let the friendly shit make you talk too much.”
I looked at Dawg, telling him while I reminded Angelica, “Her dad used to bring her in when he coached us on how to deal with LEO. She’s had it hammered into her all her life. She’ll sail right through, if they take her in.”
Dawg nodded and stood. “Give me a goodbye hug, Girly. The two of you have more to talk about, but you don’t need me. You’ll do fine.”
Angelica walked him to the door, they hugged for a good ten seconds, and Dawg kissed the top of her head before leaving. She locked the door behind him and joined me on the sofa.
“Why did you want him here?”
“I suck at relationships. I have no idea what I’m doing, and every time I tried to go over that conversation in my head, it ended with the two of us fighting and not speaking to each other. I’ve never tried to understand women, never tried to get along with them. When something came up that made someone more trouble than she was worth, I booted her to the curb. Not many were around even long enough for me to need to boot.” I touched her cheek, kissed her nose. “Dawg doesn’t do relationships, but he knows what makes women tick — knows how to talk to them without it turnin’ into a fight. I, on the other hand, have perfected the art of pissing off a woman so much I never hear from her again.”
“The only thing we really needed him here for was to get us to back down and not fight for dominance.”
“It’d be easy to agree with you, but he silently let me know I was treading on thin ice a few times, and I was careful with my words.”
She jerked a little, and sat up straighter to look me in the eye. “The two of you have a telepathic bond?”
“God no. We’ve just worked together enough, I know his body language. He moves in his seat and I just automatically know he’s warning me to watch what I say next.”
She sighed and sagged against me again. “Tell me about the fights in Ringgold.”
“It’s a big damned barn on a farm. He has three barns, the other two seem to be used for actual farm activities. This one is set up with a cage in the middle, and room around it for people to stand downstairs and watch the fights in the cage,
I was about to let Dawg know we’d be okay without him for the rest of our talk, when he asked her, “You haven’t heard from the police or FBI anymore, since they stopped by Tuesday?”
“Wednesday, while I was at work, Agent Graham texted me pictures of shoes like I’d described, and asked me to verify they were what I saw. One definitely was, the others I thought probably were, but they hadn’t stuck in my head as clearly as the high tops. Brain let me know they’d finally gone in to process the crime scene at the house. From what Drake’s reporting, so far the evidence matches my story.”
“Just remember, if they take you in for questioning, you stay quiet,” Dawg said, his face dark. “They’re allowed to lie about the evidence they have, so don’t believe a word they say. You can smell a lie on a normal human, but statistically, there are too many sociopath cops, and they don’t smell like they’re lying. If they get you off guard and you’re tempted to believe them, ask for Johnson — he smells like he’s lying when he is, but don’t believe your nose for anyone else.”
She looked back and forth to both of us. “Is there something else I should know?”
Dawg shook his head. “No, but historically, when they realize their case is at a dead end they start bringing people in and flinging shit around until someone talks. They’re gonna see you as the weak link.”
Her eyes met mine and the uncertainty in them broke my heart. “You’ll be fine,” I told her. “Johnson and Graham aren’t your friend, but I don’t think they’re going to let anything bad happen unless they’re certain of your guilt, which neither are. If they bring you in, smile and laugh and cut-up, but stay on your toes and don’t let the friendly shit make you talk too much.”
I looked at Dawg, telling him while I reminded Angelica, “Her dad used to bring her in when he coached us on how to deal with LEO. She’s had it hammered into her all her life. She’ll sail right through, if they take her in.”
Dawg nodded and stood. “Give me a goodbye hug, Girly. The two of you have more to talk about, but you don’t need me. You’ll do fine.”
Angelica walked him to the door, they hugged for a good ten seconds, and Dawg kissed the top of her head before leaving. She locked the door behind him and joined me on the sofa.
“Why did you want him here?”
“I suck at relationships. I have no idea what I’m doing, and every time I tried to go over that conversation in my head, it ended with the two of us fighting and not speaking to each other. I’ve never tried to understand women, never tried to get along with them. When something came up that made someone more trouble than she was worth, I booted her to the curb. Not many were around even long enough for me to need to boot.” I touched her cheek, kissed her nose. “Dawg doesn’t do relationships, but he knows what makes women tick — knows how to talk to them without it turnin’ into a fight. I, on the other hand, have perfected the art of pissing off a woman so much I never hear from her again.”
“The only thing we really needed him here for was to get us to back down and not fight for dominance.”
“It’d be easy to agree with you, but he silently let me know I was treading on thin ice a few times, and I was careful with my words.”
She jerked a little, and sat up straighter to look me in the eye. “The two of you have a telepathic bond?”
“God no. We’ve just worked together enough, I know his body language. He moves in his seat and I just automatically know he’s warning me to watch what I say next.”
She sighed and sagged against me again. “Tell me about the fights in Ringgold.”
“It’s a big damned barn on a farm. He has three barns, the other two seem to be used for actual farm activities. This one is set up with a cage in the middle, and room around it for people to stand downstairs and watch the fights in the cage,
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