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Authors: Kathy Herman
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girl.”
“You really think I’m going to tip off the cops?”
“I don’t know what to think. But I didn’t kill anybody . ”
“What did you do with the gun I gave you?”
“Nothing. It hasn’t even been fired. Why would I make this up?”
“To cover your tail. Maybe you tried to make Davison’s death look like a drive-by, and the girl’s death was an accident. Now you’re panicked.”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t kill either of them. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Fine. You didn’t do it. Then you still owe me sixty grand.” Grant laughed. “You should’ve kept your mouth shut.”
“Come on, man, this isn’t funny. What if they know I saw them?”
“ Did you?”
“Yeah, two guys. I couldn’t really see their faces. I’m sure the truck had Tennessee plates with the letter S.”
“What kind of truck was it?”
“Red. Fairly new. I didn’t get the make and model. It happened so fast, and I was focused on Davison.”
“Do you think they saw you?”
“Of course they saw me; they passed me. For all I know, they think I saw everything and got their license number.”
“I doubt that. You’d have told the cops by now.”
“Maybe they think I’m holding out! Maybe they’ll come looking for me! What do I do?”
“Calm down. If you’re worried about it, keep the gun and use it for protection. It’s stolen and can’t be traced to you. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. For every day you don’t pay me, the debt goes up a thousand bucks.”
“I’ll get it, man.”
“Not laying concrete for Ralph Langley, you won’t.”
“I need that job to pay the rent. I don’t gamble with my paycheck. I’ve always used my winnings.”
“Then you better hope your luck changes—and soon. I’ll be in touch. Don’t call me again.”
Stedman sat in the dead air that followed, his heart hammering, his stomach churning. What were the odds he could win that much money? What choice did he have? He had to try. His credit cards were maxed out, and he couldn’t afford to skip town.
Chapter 8
The next morning Ethan Langley opened the front door of his uncle Ralph and aunt Gwen’s two-story frame house and was hit with the unmistakable aroma of his aunt’s county-fair blue-ribbon peanut-butter cookies.
“Hello, anybody home?”
“We’re back here,” said a muffled male voice.
Ethan headed for the kitchen, his mouth watering for a cookie—or even a spoonful of cookie dough.
He breezed into the kitchen and right into the arms of Aunt Gwen.
“You timed that perfectly,” she said. “The first batch is still warm. Ralph actually took a Saturday morning off, if you can believe it.”
Ethan grabbed two cookies off the cooling rack just as his uncle put him in a playful headlock.
“How’re you doing, kid?”
“Good.”
“How’s Drew?” Gwen said.
“ Not so good.”
Ralph let go of Ethan and grabbed a cookie. “Did he know the girl they found shot?”
“No. But Drew tried to revive his roommate after he was shot. It’s going to take some time to get over it.”
“I wish I could be there to support him,” Ralph said. “But that stubborn twin brother of mine would make him feel guilty for talking to me.”
“People change. Don’t you think Uncle Richard would want you to help Drew through this while he and Aunt Becca are halfway around the world?”
“No. I think he’d be counting on his other brother to do it. And since Tom and Lisa will be here any minute, I’m sure I’ll get this same guilt trip in stereo.”
Try listening for a change.
“Don’t try to shrink my head, Ethan. Or at least wait until you get your degree.” The corners of Ralph’s mouth turned up. “I miss having you around here. How long are you going to stay with Drew?”
“Just depends on how he’s doing. His folks will be back in two weeks. Before I forget to ask, what time do I report for work on Monday?”
“Seven. We’re going to start laying the
“You really think I’m going to tip off the cops?”
“I don’t know what to think. But I didn’t kill anybody . ”
“What did you do with the gun I gave you?”
“Nothing. It hasn’t even been fired. Why would I make this up?”
“To cover your tail. Maybe you tried to make Davison’s death look like a drive-by, and the girl’s death was an accident. Now you’re panicked.”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t kill either of them. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Fine. You didn’t do it. Then you still owe me sixty grand.” Grant laughed. “You should’ve kept your mouth shut.”
“Come on, man, this isn’t funny. What if they know I saw them?”
“ Did you?”
“Yeah, two guys. I couldn’t really see their faces. I’m sure the truck had Tennessee plates with the letter S.”
“What kind of truck was it?”
“Red. Fairly new. I didn’t get the make and model. It happened so fast, and I was focused on Davison.”
“Do you think they saw you?”
“Of course they saw me; they passed me. For all I know, they think I saw everything and got their license number.”
“I doubt that. You’d have told the cops by now.”
“Maybe they think I’m holding out! Maybe they’ll come looking for me! What do I do?”
“Calm down. If you’re worried about it, keep the gun and use it for protection. It’s stolen and can’t be traced to you. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. For every day you don’t pay me, the debt goes up a thousand bucks.”
“I’ll get it, man.”
“Not laying concrete for Ralph Langley, you won’t.”
“I need that job to pay the rent. I don’t gamble with my paycheck. I’ve always used my winnings.”
“Then you better hope your luck changes—and soon. I’ll be in touch. Don’t call me again.”
Stedman sat in the dead air that followed, his heart hammering, his stomach churning. What were the odds he could win that much money? What choice did he have? He had to try. His credit cards were maxed out, and he couldn’t afford to skip town.
Chapter 8
The next morning Ethan Langley opened the front door of his uncle Ralph and aunt Gwen’s two-story frame house and was hit with the unmistakable aroma of his aunt’s county-fair blue-ribbon peanut-butter cookies.
“Hello, anybody home?”
“We’re back here,” said a muffled male voice.
Ethan headed for the kitchen, his mouth watering for a cookie—or even a spoonful of cookie dough.
He breezed into the kitchen and right into the arms of Aunt Gwen.
“You timed that perfectly,” she said. “The first batch is still warm. Ralph actually took a Saturday morning off, if you can believe it.”
Ethan grabbed two cookies off the cooling rack just as his uncle put him in a playful headlock.
“How’re you doing, kid?”
“Good.”
“How’s Drew?” Gwen said.
“ Not so good.”
Ralph let go of Ethan and grabbed a cookie. “Did he know the girl they found shot?”
“No. But Drew tried to revive his roommate after he was shot. It’s going to take some time to get over it.”
“I wish I could be there to support him,” Ralph said. “But that stubborn twin brother of mine would make him feel guilty for talking to me.”
“People change. Don’t you think Uncle Richard would want you to help Drew through this while he and Aunt Becca are halfway around the world?”
“No. I think he’d be counting on his other brother to do it. And since Tom and Lisa will be here any minute, I’m sure I’ll get this same guilt trip in stereo.”
Try listening for a change.
“Don’t try to shrink my head, Ethan. Or at least wait until you get your degree.” The corners of Ralph’s mouth turned up. “I miss having you around here. How long are you going to stay with Drew?”
“Just depends on how he’s doing. His folks will be back in two weeks. Before I forget to ask, what time do I report for work on Monday?”
“Seven. We’re going to start laying the
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