Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)

“Ford clunker. Seventy-nine, I think. It belongs to—Vern. You know him? He works at the camp.”


Vermont ignored me. “Color?”

“White.”

“And where’d you stop for alcohol?”

“The liquor store was closed so I tried a bar. The bartender, or maybe it was the owner—he sold me something from the back.”

“And that’s it? From there, you headed back and the truck broke down?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where was that?”

“About a mile from camp.”

Vermont tapped the end of his pen on his notepad, nodding. Nobody spoke for a few moments. Krout checked his watch and got me a refill that I immediately downed.

“Thing is, Mr. Sutter,” Vermont said, “we have two witnesses placing your vehicle in the neighborhood where the crime occurred, at the time it occurred. Not too far from Phil’s bar. But I can’t think of no reason you should’ve been near that residence. It’s not on the way back to camp.”

Fuck. It’d been such a blip in time, I hadn’t even really thought about our drive through the neighborhood. Lake popped into my head first. She’d hung out the window, and I’d let her, like a fucking idiot. I’d been too caught up in her, in our last night together. Did they know about her? As long as they didn’t, I was fine. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I shifted in the plastic chair, suddenly aware of how hard it was. “I went for a drive. Never been to the area, so I was curious.”

The men just stared at me. It was about the truth, though. “Why didn’t you mention it?” Vermont asked.

“Guess I forgot.”

Vermont blew out a sigh, looking over his notepad. “Two different neighbors say they spotted a loud, white truck outside their houses. Same plates as yours. Couldn’ta been driving more than ten miles an hour. With the headlights out. To me, that sounds like someone casing the neighborhood.”

The lamp over our heads got brighter. I willed my heartrate to slow down; I needed my wits about me. Sitting up a little straighter, I said, “I don’t really have a good explanation for that. I just like that time of night. The peace. Stars.”

“Not peaceful up at camp, smack in the middle of the woods?” Krout asked, his voice a little harder, wryer. “Can’t see the stars up there where it’s dark? Had to go looking for it in town?”

I massaged my face. “It looks bad, I agree, but it’s not like that. I just—there are kids everywhere up there, I needed some time to myself. I work construction. I’m not—not used to being around all those kids.” The officers let me ramble, probably hoping I’d trip myself up. I took a breath. “They say anything else?”

“Like what?”

I shook my head. I just needed to know about Lake. If anyone’d seen her. “Just trying to figure out—I mean, I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t. You can search the truck. My cabin. All I brought up here with me was a bag, not like I could fit any stolen goods in it. What’d the robber take?”

Vermont looked at Krout. “Nothing. He was interrupted. The woman who caught him described him as tall with dark hair and clothes.”

“So then it wasn’t actually a crime?”

“Of course it was,” Krout said. “Someone came into a family’s home and confronted the wife. Her kids were there. What we have to figure out is who and why.”

I knew from my criminal justice class that first-degree robbery was a felony, and a felony charge could fuck me long after I served time. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Fortunately not. The woman wrestled her wallet from him and he ran. She’s all right. He knew enough to pick a lock. No major damage done. You know how to pick a lock?”

“No.” Of course I did, for fuck’s sake. My breathing shallowed. I needed more water, but it didn’t look like I was getting a refill. “Can I get an aspirin or something?”

“In a minute.” Krout looked over his notes. “Vermont’s niece was at Phil’s, that bar you visited last night. She ID’ed a tall, dark-haired man and your vehicle, so we know you were there.”

I waited for the bomb to drop. Who was the girl in your car? I’d fucked up huge. Lake was innocent. Last night, I’d made some mistakes. I hadn’t been thinking straight. Now, in the light of day, I saw how bad it was. Fooling around with her could have lasting effects on her. If they brought her in, it would traumatize her. People would talk. Her bright future could be tarnished. Her dad, fuck, he would fucking murder me, and who knew what kind of emotional punishment he’d put Lake through.

“We haven’t spoken to Phil over at the bar yet,” Krout continued, “but we’ll get to that. I assume he’ll remember you. Tall. Dark hair.”

I nodded mindlessly. Just say it. Just ask me who she was. I didn’t know how I’d answer, but the anticipation was killing me.

Jessica Hawkins's books