Chapter Five #2
I dropped Blue’s reins and did as he commanded. Then I was down on my knees, and then down on my belly, and then I was being frisked by a cop with some serious body odor and three too many Jake’s fried burritos in his paunch.
I couldn’t hear what Caleb was yelling over the cop’s loud directions, but he sounded furious. Up until the point when he passed out cold and fell in a crumpled heap onto the ground beneath Blue.
“Way to go, Nancy!” I yelled at Clancy from my vantage point in the dirt. “Now you killed him!”
Clancy and I were old not-friends. He was notorious for running me out of town for disturbing the peace when I wasn’t doing anything but getting supplies. “Gotta keep the streets clean,” he would say, then wipe his hands like he had done his civic duty. What a canker sore.
“Quiet, Crazy Mira,” he ordered, his face going an interesting shade of mauve-purple in his rage.
“Get her in handcuffs and tie up that horse,” he told his deputy.
“I’m gonna radio for backup. I have to get the McCreedy boy to the clinic.
” Clancy was already dragging Caleb’s limp body toward the patrol car.
I was pretty sure a whole lot of police bylaws were being broken here, and from the shocked look on deputy-what’s-his-name’s face, he probably felt the same.
Clancy peeled out, throwing gravel and dust over where I lay. “You’re so lucky to have such a rock solid boss,” I sniped at the deputy. It wasn’t characteristic of me to feel so brave and mouthy, but I was pissed.
He didn’t look amused. “You know you have the right to remain silent, don’t you?”
I plopped my head to the side. A rock dug into my cheek, but it was bearable. “Fine.”
We waited for our ride to arrive ten minutes later in the form of the second and only other patrol car in Bryson.
A leisurely drive down Main Street in my snazzy ride was the cherry on top of the day.
Apparently, every single person in town had already heard of my arrest and was waiting excitedly to see the crazy parade, party of one.
A piece of me was surprised they weren’t selling peanuts and cotton candy.
I tried to slouch down as far as I possibly could with my hands cuffed much too tightly behind my back.
I’m sure everyone could still see the top of my hair.
It was all they needed. They’d talk about this for the rest of my life.
They’d talk about it for the rest of their lives.
Perhaps I would even get a book of my own in the town history section of the library.
“The Chronicles of Crazy Mira.”
I feigned unbalance when they booked me. They asked less questions if I smiled and stared blankly at the wall. I even swayed and hummed off-key for good measure.
After an hour of no response about the unfortunate happenings to Caleb McCreedy, Clancy gave up and sent his deputy in to play good cop.
The deputy, Young, Clancy had called him, cleared his throat as they passed each other in the doorway.
Two substantial bellies tried to fit through the frame simultaneously, like two round moons orbiting each other.
I wondered how many times they had done that dance to do it so well.
“The clinic just called. Caleb’s awake,” Young said in a low voice, just loud enough for me to catch it.
I perked up at the new information. Caleb wasn’t dead then. A weight lifted, and I drew a long shaky breath. When I exhaled, some of the tension left my body with it. I was still in trouble up to my eyeballs, but at least Caleb would be all right.
Young opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him. “I think I need to talk to Sam Burns now.”
“The lawyer?” he asked, obviously surprised that I could speak civilly and drop a useful name.
I had only met Sam Burns once before. I had gone into town with Uncle Brady on one of the rare occasions he thought it pertinent for me to be there.
I liked the town lawyer’s office. He had taken the effort to invest in an old-fashioned popcorn machine with white paper baggies clipped to the side.
Free to clients, the sign over the front had read.
I had filled my bag three times while Uncle Brady went over his will with the statuesque lawyer.
It was all I had to eat that day, and was such a delicious and unexpected treat that I would forever hold Mr. Burns in a warm place in my heart.
He couldn’t have realized he’d made such a memory for me.
I’d be lucky if he remembered me at all, but surely he would recall Uncle Brady.
My guardian had been too loud a character to be forgotten easily.
I made the phone call, using the number I’d memorized from Uncle Brady’s will. “Mr. Burns,” I said when he answered. “This is Mira Fletcher, Brady Fletcher’s niece. I’m being held at the police station and need your assistance.”
His reply was simple. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I tried to be polite and say bye, but he’d already hung up.
Twenty minutes later and Mr. Burns was as I remembered him, except for not quite so tall and a little grayer around the edges.
His eyes were sharp, and he seemed to take in everything with a single glance when he entered the room.
“Hello again, Mira,” he said kindly. The metal chair screeched across the tile floor, and he set a very professional looking briefcase on the table between us.
It appeared downright odd against his T-shirt and worn blue jeans, but small town lawyers didn’t have to dress up.
Without further ado, I got down to the nitty gritty of why I’d called him. “I have information regarding my uncle. First, I will need you to retrieve the satchel I had with me when I was arrested. It had paperwork pertinent to what I need from you.”
“Yes, all right,” he said.
His tone sounded as if he were talking to a child. I ignored it. My popcorn memory wavered, but I clutched onto it tighter.