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Authors: Virginia Brown
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apartment.”
Turning, she nodded. “Not even a Marlboro. I wonder why they don’t want you to stay here.” Then a glance at the overflowing ash tray and empty Coke cans on the floor answered that question. She shuddered. “So, where do you want to stay?”
“I can go to Snake’s place. He lives just off-campus. I need a few bucks, though. I’m broke.”
It was worth a twenty not to have to clean up after him, she figured, and Harley gave him her stash money without a qualm. Bobby was on his cell phone, talking in his cop voice where she couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, and she slung a leg over the padded arm of the couch to lean close to her brother.
“Hey, where do you think they went?”
Stuffing the money into the pocket of his baggy, low-riding black pants, he shrugged. “I dunno. Pickwick, maybe. They like it up there.”
Pickwick dam and lake up on the Tennessee River was a favorite camping spot for a lot of Memphis residents. This time of year, it’d be crowded on the weekends. It was entirely possible they’d gone up there to meet friends, but in the middle of the week, unlikely. Still, would they go alone if they felt threatened here? Yeah, that seemed more likely.
“Don’t say anything about that,” she murmured when Bobby clicked off his cell phone and turned around, and her brother nodded agreement.
Bobby looked at the two of them huddled on the couch, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you up to, Harley? And don’t try to deny it. Maybe you should go to the precinct tonight to make your official statement. Take your toothbrush.”
“Bobby, this cop routine is getting old fast,” she said. “You might try remembering that you were my friend before you were a cop.”
“You might try remembering that Mrs. Trumble was murdered. If Yogi didn’t do it, hasn’t it occurred to you that he might be an eyewitness? And if he is, whoever pulled the trigger will want to find him, too, but not for the same reason.”
It had occurred to her. And it was a terrifying thought, but so was Yogi being arrested for murder. She felt trapped between two terrible possibilities, and didn’t know which was worse. It was possible Yogi hadn’t really seen anything or anyone, just been at the wrong place at the right time. That was the best worst case scenario. The police would find the real killer and all this would blow over. She didn’t even want to think about the two worst case scenarios. Not now. She just wanted a little time to think about her options first.
“If I see Yogi or hear from him, I’ll tell him you want to talk to him,” she said finally, and Bobby blew out an exasperated breath.
“Fine. Play it that way. Don’t come whining to me when it blows up on you. And don’t be asking me for any favors any time soon, either.”
“Gee, Bobby, are you sure? I have this parking ticket I need fixed—”
He cut her off with a very rude comment that would have been an insult from anyone else. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him.
“We’ve already discussed that, and you need to talk to your girlfriend about that kind of service.”
Stalking to the door, Bobby turned to look back at her. “This isn’t a game. We’re not kids anymore. This is grown-up stuff, Harley. A wrong choice can have serious consequences. Think about that.”
He was right, and she knew it. Indecision clutched at her, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say in return. The screen door banged shut behind Bobby, echoing in the still house. After a moment, her brother stood up and stretched.
“Can you give me a ride over to Snake’s place?”
She turned. “Where’s your car?”
“In the shop again. It always seems to be breaking down.”
“I think you’re supposed to do more than just put gas in it. Try using oil, water, things like that.”
“Yeah. The brakes went out. One of the rotors.” Yawning, he moved slowly toward the kitchen. “Want something to eat?”
“Aren’t you worried
Turning, she nodded. “Not even a Marlboro. I wonder why they don’t want you to stay here.” Then a glance at the overflowing ash tray and empty Coke cans on the floor answered that question. She shuddered. “So, where do you want to stay?”
“I can go to Snake’s place. He lives just off-campus. I need a few bucks, though. I’m broke.”
It was worth a twenty not to have to clean up after him, she figured, and Harley gave him her stash money without a qualm. Bobby was on his cell phone, talking in his cop voice where she couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, and she slung a leg over the padded arm of the couch to lean close to her brother.
“Hey, where do you think they went?”
Stuffing the money into the pocket of his baggy, low-riding black pants, he shrugged. “I dunno. Pickwick, maybe. They like it up there.”
Pickwick dam and lake up on the Tennessee River was a favorite camping spot for a lot of Memphis residents. This time of year, it’d be crowded on the weekends. It was entirely possible they’d gone up there to meet friends, but in the middle of the week, unlikely. Still, would they go alone if they felt threatened here? Yeah, that seemed more likely.
“Don’t say anything about that,” she murmured when Bobby clicked off his cell phone and turned around, and her brother nodded agreement.
Bobby looked at the two of them huddled on the couch, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you up to, Harley? And don’t try to deny it. Maybe you should go to the precinct tonight to make your official statement. Take your toothbrush.”
“Bobby, this cop routine is getting old fast,” she said. “You might try remembering that you were my friend before you were a cop.”
“You might try remembering that Mrs. Trumble was murdered. If Yogi didn’t do it, hasn’t it occurred to you that he might be an eyewitness? And if he is, whoever pulled the trigger will want to find him, too, but not for the same reason.”
It had occurred to her. And it was a terrifying thought, but so was Yogi being arrested for murder. She felt trapped between two terrible possibilities, and didn’t know which was worse. It was possible Yogi hadn’t really seen anything or anyone, just been at the wrong place at the right time. That was the best worst case scenario. The police would find the real killer and all this would blow over. She didn’t even want to think about the two worst case scenarios. Not now. She just wanted a little time to think about her options first.
“If I see Yogi or hear from him, I’ll tell him you want to talk to him,” she said finally, and Bobby blew out an exasperated breath.
“Fine. Play it that way. Don’t come whining to me when it blows up on you. And don’t be asking me for any favors any time soon, either.”
“Gee, Bobby, are you sure? I have this parking ticket I need fixed—”
He cut her off with a very rude comment that would have been an insult from anyone else. She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him.
“We’ve already discussed that, and you need to talk to your girlfriend about that kind of service.”
Stalking to the door, Bobby turned to look back at her. “This isn’t a game. We’re not kids anymore. This is grown-up stuff, Harley. A wrong choice can have serious consequences. Think about that.”
He was right, and she knew it. Indecision clutched at her, and she couldn’t think of a thing to say in return. The screen door banged shut behind Bobby, echoing in the still house. After a moment, her brother stood up and stretched.
“Can you give me a ride over to Snake’s place?”
She turned. “Where’s your car?”
“In the shop again. It always seems to be breaking down.”
“I think you’re supposed to do more than just put gas in it. Try using oil, water, things like that.”
“Yeah. The brakes went out. One of the rotors.” Yawning, he moved slowly toward the kitchen. “Want something to eat?”
“Aren’t you worried
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