Read Online One Shot Away by T. Glen Coughlin - Free Book Online Page B

Detective Barnes.
    â€œIt’s obvious Jimmy doesn’t know, or he doesn’t remember,” she says.
    â€œNothing is obvious.” Detective Barnes leans back and crosses his leg. He places his large hand at the top of his sock and massages his ankle. “I used to work highway patrol,” he says. “If I pulled someone over in a stolen vehicle, ninety-nine percent of the time they couldn’t keep their story straight because they were lying. They’d try to hand over their driver’s license and I’d watch it in their hand, shaking like a leaf.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” asks Trish.
    â€œI’ve heard a lot of stories.” He uncrosses his legs and folds his arms.
    â€œIs my son going to be arrested?” she asks. “Don’t you have to read him his rights?”
    â€œWhoa, hold on.” Detective Barnes raises his palms. “That’s TV, this is a simple interview. We’re trying to connect the dots. No one is getting arrested, at least not tonight.”
    At least not tonight! The tiny hairs on Jimmy’s arms stand up and he shivers.
    â€œAt the same time, you should know, this is a grand-larceny investigation. A felony. If your son were arrested, he could do time in prison,” says Santos. “He could forget wrestling and whatever came after.” He looks at Jimmy. “So why don’t we start from the beginning?”
    â€œI’d like to talk to a lawyer,” says Trish.
    â€œEnding this interview now wouldn’t be the best thing for your son,” says Santos.
    â€œI’m asking you both nice.” She fixes her eyes on Detective Barnes.
    â€œCould we look around?” asks Detective Santos.
    Jimmy wants to take a shower, pull his bed covers over his head. He wants them gone from the house.
    â€œWhy?” His mother’s face is unyielding.
    Leave, please leave .
    â€œWell, if you let us take a look around,” he says, “we’d be that much further with the investigation.”
    â€œNo.” Trish shakes her head. “It’s late, and everyone’s tired.”
    The detectives stand. “What does your husband keep in the shed in the backyard?”
    â€œWhat does anyone keep in a shed? Stuff.”
    Detective Santos is looking in an ashtray on top of the stereo cabinet. Jimmy follows his gaze to a joint with his mother’s rose lipstick on one end. The detective pokes the joint with his pen. “Who’s smoking marijuana?”
    His mother holds her hands in front of her face like someone praying. “Oh, come on, that must have been there for six months. We had a party and someone—”
    â€œIt’s not yours?” Detective Santos asks.
    â€œNo,” she laughs. “I’ve got kids here.”
    â€œYou could get charged for this.”
    â€œFor one lousy joint? Oh, I get it—if I let you look around, I don’t get arrested.” Neither detective budges. Trish searches their faces. “Then go ahead and take a look,” she says.
    â€œWe’ll start with the shed,” says Detective Barnes, moving toward the back of the house.
    â€œI told you that’s my husband’s. I can’t give you permission for the shed.”
    â€œWhat does he keep in there?”
    â€œIt’s not my stuff. I don’t bother with it. He told me it’s off limits.”
    â€œOff limits? A shed in your yard is off limits?” Detective Barnes smirks. “We can start with the house if you want, but we will get to the shed eventually. If not today, then someday soon. We could get a warrant.”
    â€œI don’t think so.” She’s not blinking. She’s almost daring them.
    The detectives walk through the rooms and poke their heads in the alcove. They open the closet door.
    â€œMake this easy and get it over with,” says Detective Barnes. “All that’s left is the