Prologue
Two guys with guns wearing no kinda uniform I ever saw stood on either side of Gram, and I knew in an instant—it was happening.
Pretending like I didn’t know I was the reason they were here, I stood tall like Mom taught me and looked from one scary guy to the other, right in their eyes. Then I looked at Gram like I wasn’t scared of anything. “What’s going on?”
Both men staring at me, the bigger one spoke up first. “Son, we need to talk.”
I didn’t take my eyes off Gram. “Who’re these guys, Gram?”
“U.S. Marshals,” the younger guy answered. “Why don’t you have a seat.” He nodded at the chair in front of me, the one that would put me opposite Gram and facing all three of them like this was some kind of firing squad.
“I don’t need to sit.” I was fifteen and taller than one of them. They couldn’t make me do anything in Gram’s house that I didn’t want to do. Not unless they were here to arrest me, and I doubted that. “Say what you came for, then leave.”
Gram’s face turned even more stern. “You tell these men everything they want to know. You hear me, boy?”
Something thick stuck in my throat, but I looked directly at the older Marshal and used the deep voice God gave me. “What do you want?”
“We’ve been made aware of a situation,” he started in, then stopped. Raising an eyebrow, he adjusted his hands on his thick belt.
Knowing he was expecting me to ask what kind of situation, I didn’t say a word.
He hiked his eyebrow higher. “I’m gonna need to see your cell phone, son.”
I didn’t tell them my mom had never allowed me to have a cell phone, not until the day she died. Instead, I did as I’d promised her.
I lied.
“I don’t have a phone.” Not one like the kids in my old school in the small town where we used to live had. Those were fancy smartphones. The small cell I was hiding wasn’t like those.
“Well now, son, here’s where we’re gonna have a problem. Your grandmother here….” The older Marshal raised that eyebrow again, but this time he squinted his opposite eye as his big hand landed on her shoulder. “She is your grandmother, son, ain’t she?”
“You heard what I called her when I came in.” Careful of my words, I didn’t say yes, I didn’t say no, and I didn’t call this house home. Not that Gram’s place felt like home—nowhere did—but I wasn’t saying any more than I had to.
“Right.” The older Marshal patted Gram’s shoulder, then rested his hand on his belt again.
“Getting back to it, your grandmother here already told us she doesn’t have a cell phone.
Problem is, a cell phone was used in this very house.
In fact, it was used a few times. So I gotta ask, son—and remember you’re talking to a Federal Law Enforcement Officer—do you have a cell phone? ”
“No.”
The Marshal nodded at the younger one. “Eddie, go check his room and all his belongings.”
“That’s enough.” Gram stood and used a lie of her own making.
“The boy ain’t without friends. Those kids come and go, and the boy don’t control who uses what where.
” She pointed at the younger Marshal. “You’re not ransacking my house.
” She turned her finger to the older one.
“And you’re not harassing this boy no more.
So unless you want to arrest me for being old and tired of your maltreatment, you best get.
” Arm extended, she pointed toward the front door. “Exit’s thataway.”
Both staring at me, neither Marshal moved.
Gram raised her voice. “I said, get!”
The younger Marshal didn’t take his eyes off me as shook his head. “Do you even know who you are, kid?”
“Eddie,” the older Marshal warned. “Go start the truck.”
Looking put out, the younger Marshal walked past me real close like he was itching for a fight.
The front door slammed a second later, and the older Marshal smiled at Gram without showing his teeth. “You and I both know what’s going on here.”
Gram’s hands went to her hips. “I know you barged into my home without a warrant.”
The older Marshal’s smile dropped real fast. “This isn’t about a warrant.”
“Then I suggest you leave before I call the District Attorney.”
Eyeing Gram, the Marshal stepped back. Then he turned on me with that squinted expression. “You know who you look like, son?”
“Get!” Gram yelled before aiming for her kitchen. “And don’t slam my door on your way out!”
“Wouldn’t think of it,” the Marshal yelled back before lowering his voice so Gram wouldn’t hear.
“You better watch your back, son. You get an answer to one of those texts you been sending, I suggest you call me before it’s too late.
” Tossing a business card on the table, he walked out of the dining room.
My heart jumping, I stood there until I heard the front door latch shut. Then I went to the kitchen. “Gram—”
“Don’t you Gram me, boy.” Stirring a pot of the same stew we had for dinner last night that had next to no meat, she didn’t even look up as she aimed her pointer finger at me. “You get too. I ain’t in the right mind to speak civil.”
Pushing my fist to my chest to try to get the jumping to stop, I turned to leave and saw the one thing I loved most in this house. Forcing myself to walk past the piano, my legs felt like lead, but some kinda itch had me thinking about going out that front door.
Like Gram knew my thoughts were reckless, she hollered after me. “I know you done something, boy, and I ain’t gonna ask. But I swear to the good Lord, if those men come round here again, I ain’t covering for you.”