Kiss Me Hard Before You Go (29 page)

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Authors: Shannon McCrimmon

BOOK: Kiss Me Hard Before You Go
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Time passed, and police officers cordoned off the area with yellow caution tape and searched for evidence in the enclosed area—something to tell them how this tragedy happened.

Kip approached Finch and said, “The sheriff is here, and he wants to have a word with you.” He gulped and took a shallow breath. Finch could read Kip’s face, and it told him this wasn’t going to be an informal chit-chat.

Finch pointed to himself. “With me?”

“Yeah,” Kip said with a frown.

Finch rubbed the back of his neck and gave Friedrich, Doris and Mouse a strange look.

“What’s he want to talk to Finch for? He doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Doris said.

Kip didn’t reply and gestured for Finch to follow him to his office. Finch passed by shocked townies and carnies and could feel their eyes on him. A few turned their lips down and scowled.Fingers were going to be pointed. Someone had to be blamed. This wasn’t an act of God, and Finch had that sinking feeling he was the target.

The sheriff sat at Kip’s desk, his deputy beside him. For a town as small as Haines, Finch was amazed at the number of police officers that were on the force. When he thought of towns that size, he pictured Andy Griffith and Don Knots.

The hair above Ford’s thin lips was a poor excuse for a mustache. A small patch of black hair barely covered the area, and as sparse as it was, it looked more like a Hitler mustache.
Strike one for that guy
, Finch thought. Any one with an decent IQ would not replicate anything that had to do with Hitler.

His dark brown hair was cut short in an unflattering crew cut style. He had beady little brown eyes, and he had an obvious dandruff problem. White flakes adorned his shoulders. A dark blue police uniform was the man’s worst enemy.

“Sit down,” he said to Finch and spoke with a subtle lisp. It wasn’t a barking order, but it wasn’t an invitation either. He didn’t introduce himself, nor did he offer to shake Finch’s hand.

Finch did as he was told.

“Mr. Kierkin told me you’re the one responsible for fixing the rides,” he said. The “s” was especially prominent when he spoke. He narrowed his eyes to Finch.

“Yes.”

“And did you inspect the scrambler ride today?”

“Once this morning and then later this afternoon.”

“Where were you at four o’clock today?” he asked incredulously. He folded his hands and tapped his fingers against his chin. His fingernails needed to be cut and dirt could be seen in them. 

“I was taking a nap.”

“A nap?” he said with a smirk. “So you often sleep on the job?” He snickered and looked at his deputy. “Can you imagine us napping on the job?”

The deputy shook his head in disbelief and laughed along with him.

Finch thought it was like those lame interrogation scenes in the movies. Only no one was playing “good cop” in this instance. This guy was a bad cop, or at least an idiot; he could tell that just by looking at him.

“It’s not uncommon for me to take a nap ‘cause I work all hours of the day, and I’m not needed all the time,” Finch said and turned to Kip for help. Kip cleared his throat and stayed silent.
Of all the times for Kip to lose his balls
, Finch thought.

“We’re not needed all the time, either, but we don’t nap when it’s quiet at the station.” He searched through his note pad and read carefully, then jotted something down. “A few witnesses say they saw you near the ride this afternoon. Conveniently right before the accident.” He raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer.

“I told you I checked on the ride this afternoon before I took a nap,” Finch said with exasperation. 

“You’re the only one that can fix the rides? Ain’t that right, Mr. Kierkin?” Everyone turned to Kip, waiting for his response.

Kip cleared his throat again and fidgeted. “Yes,” he finally answered.

Finch’s face became crestfallen, and he tried to recover from the feeling of being kicked in the gut.

“I think it’s best if we finish our questioning down at the station,” the sheriff said.

***

He was escorted to the police cruiser. They rough handled him and shoved him into the back seat like a common criminal. All of the windows were rolled up. He sat in the car for fifteen minutes before they started up the engine. He caught a hint of a breeze from the driver’s side window but not enough to cool him off. By the time Finch reached the station, he was drenched and on the verge of passing out.

They dragged him out of the car, using more force than necessary. Finch was used to disrespect. When they discovered he was a carny, the stigma that he was a derelict of society automatically stuck to him like glue. But in all of his twenty-two years of life, he had never been treated like he was a criminal.

He knew better than to say anything. If he uttered one word of disgust about the way they were treating him, they would do it again, only worse. He couldn’t let them win. He refused to.

He sat in a cold, windowless room for a very long time. The colder the room got, the more he shivered. They hadn’t handcuffed him. They followed the law where that was concerned, but they were testing him.

Another hour passed, and Finch paced the room back and forth, the concrete walls closed in on him. If he was claustrophobic, he’d be having a panic attack right about then.

But he wasn’t, and the longer he was stuck in that confining room, the angrier he became. They had nothing on him. Someone seeing him by the ride didn’t mean he broke the ride, and he wondered,
what the hell happened and who the hell did mess with it
? It had to be someone in the carnival, that much he knew.

The door opened, and the sheriff sauntered in holding a cup of water. He took a long hard sip and wiped his wet lips. Finch fought the thirst. He could feel the dryness in the back of his throat, and he swallowed, savoring what little bit of saliva he had left in him.

Sheriff Ford sat across from him and tapped his fingers against the scuffed wooden table. “You said you were napping?”

“Yes,” Finch croaked.

He licked his lips and tapped his fingers again. Finch watched his beady eyes dart back and forth. He didn’t have enough evidence. Finch knew it was only a matter of time until they had to let him go.

“When did you say you checked the ride?”

“It was in the afternoon, around two o’clock I think,” Finch said with uncertainty. He never paid much attention to what time he checked the rides.

“Sure it wasn’t four o’clock?”

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Finch said with irritation.

“Don’t get smart with me boy,” he said and clenched his jaw. “We can keep you here all night if we want.”

Finch sighed heavily.

The sheriff got up and left the room. Within a minute, one of the deputies entered and man handled Finch, jerking him from the chair. “Maybe spending some time in a jail cell will help you learn some respect,” the deputy said.

Chapter 28

He sat on a cold concrete bench. He tried to lay down, but it was too narrow and not made for a guy of his build, or any build for that matter – even Evie would’ve struggled to lay on it. It was the only holding cell in the station, and he was the only person occupying it. Every now and again, a deputy came back there, stared at him for a few seconds, tapped his night stick on the jail cell bars, and then went back in the direction from which he came.

By this time, his throat was aching, and he was seriously parched. He needed something to drink, any liquid would suffice. He checked his watch. It was eight o’clock at night, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He leaned back against the wall, pulled his knees up to his chest and let out a deep sigh. And then he dozed off.

Shouting woke him. He knew that voice all too well.

“You don’t have any evidence!” she shouted.

He laughed and smiled to himself, thanking his lucky stars that she had come into his life.

A few more harsh phrases were said, along with a few curse word infused threats, and before Finch could blink, the door opened and a deputy walked his way holding a set of keys. He unlocked the door and motioned for Finch to get up and get out. Finch stood up and strolled down the corridor toward the door. At last. Freedom.

She wasn’t alone. Stoney, Mouse, Doris, Friedrich, Cooper, and a man Finch had never seen before were huddled together in the station. Evie ran to Finch and hugged him. “You okay?” she asked. She let go and appraised him with a concerned face. “You look really bad.”

“Just thirsty,” he said; his voice was scratchy.

She glared at the sheriff and his deputies, and stepped over to the vending machine, dropping in one quarter and one dime to buy Finch a drink. Out came a bottle of Coke. She handed it to him, and said, “Here.” She scowled at the sheriff.

Finch popped the cap off using the opener built into the machine and then guzzled the drink all in one vigorous swig.

“Finch, this is Spence Dobbins, Cooper’s brother. He’s an attorney,” she said, introducing the man who faintly resembled Cooper.

Spence shook Finch’s hand and smiled. Spence and Cooper had the same crooked grin, but not the same fashion sense. Spence was neat and polished; he wore a button down shirt with khaki pants. Cooper’s choice for the evening was a tattered pair of sweat pants and a faded college t-shirt.

“Nice to meet you,” Finch said.

“You too. Evie’s told me all about you,” he said. His southern accent was less prominent than Cooper’s. He turned his attention to Sheriff Ford and said, “Well, if that will be all, I’d like to take my client home.”

Ford gave a reluctant nod and pursed his lips. “That’s all, Spence.” The sheriff spit into his coffee mug and frowned.

“Thanks, Winton,” Spence said with sarcasm. He gestured for them to follow him outside.

Evie took one last look at the sheriff and shook her head. Finch could tell she was about to give him a piece of her mind, and he took her by the hand and muttered under his breath, “Evie,” he warned.

She held back and walked outside with the group. They stood in front of their trucks that littered the street. Spence’s was the only new one out of the bunch.

“Honey Lamb, we were spitting fire at Kip for not having the balls to stand up for you,” Doris said to Finch. “Like this is your fault.”

Friedrich and Mouse nodded in agreement with her.

“Kip’s a pussy,” Stoney said. “Sorry,” he said to Evie for his language.

“It was someone in the carnival,” Finch said. “I had a lot of time to think in there, and it wouldn’t make sense otherwise.”

“But who?” Evie interrupted. “Who would be that mean?”

“People surprise you, Evie. That’s why I was always telling you to let me walk with you at night. There’s a lot of carnies that Kip hires who I wouldn’t want to share a truck ride with,” he said.

“I agree with you, Finch. It most likely was someone in your carnival, and if I were you all, I’d pay close attention and try and figure out who it is before you get to the next town,” Spence said.

“Is that family all right?” Finch asked him.

“They’re fine. The little boy has some broken bones, but considering the severity of what that accident could’ve been, they walked away relatively unscathed,” he said.

“That’s good. When I saw that boy...” Finch said with a wrinkled brow.

“Finch, it was unfortunate to meet you under these circumstances. You’re free to leave town. The Sheriff knows he doesn’t have enough evidence to arrest you,” Spence said.

“We’ve got another week here,” Finch replied.

Doris shook her head. “Maybe not, Honey Lamb. Kip’s wavering about moving on. With what happened, he’s worried ain’t no one gonna come near the carnival now.”

He looked at Evie. By the frown on her face, he could tell she had already thought of this.

“Well, if there’s nothing else you need from me, I’m going home. Betsy has a chicken pot pie waiting for me,” Spence said and rubbed his stomach.

“Think she’d want to share some of it with her brother-in-law?” Cooper asked.

“Yeah, why not, Coop,” he said. He shook all of their hands and got in his truck.

Cooper turned to Evie, and she hugged him. “Thank you,” she said.

“Ain’t nothin’,” he said and faced Finch.“You be careful out there. If you’re right, it ain’t safe for y’all. Just know you got some real friends here.” He offered his hand, and Finch shook it.

“Thank you,” Finch said.

Cooper hopped in his truck and drove off.

“I’ve got plenty of left overs if y’all are hungry. I know I am,” Evie said. She hadn’t eaten in several hours. Once she heard from Friedrich that they had taken Finch to the station, she called Cooper to see if Spence could help. “We’ll have ourselves a real feast,” she said.

“A feast sounds great. I know I’m starving,” Doris said.

“I am famished,” Friedrich agreed.

“Me too,” Mouse chimed in.

“I could eat,” Stoney said.

“Well, then, I guess it’s settled. Y’all come on,” Evie said with a laugh. She laced her fingers in Finch’s. “You ride with me.”

***

The radio played 1950s tunes, and a strong whoosh of air blew through the truck. The windows were rolled all the way down, and the cool outside air, along with the oscillating fan, made things comfortable.

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