Tipping The Scales: Knox (Mate Craze)(14)

Three hours later and I had but a few piles of useless papers to show for it. My notebook had random facts spewed across it, but nothing new. It told the story I already knew. My grandfather died in a fire while waiting for his sentencing. Somehow his wandering upon a dead body turned him into the prime suspect for the murder, a murder my grandmother swore until her dying day that he didn’t commit.

From the little I had found, the case was weak and wreaked of a set-up, something I hoped to prove in my thesis, or as I liked to call it, “my ticket to law school.”

Liam’s cooperation in my dream of scholarship awesomeness stunk. He had what my mom called “small man syndrome” and he used his power to show his worth. It annoyed the daylights out of me, and I tried my hardest not to let it show, which would in essence give him more power. Keeping my voice sweet and the thank yous coming at every little tidbit he acquired for me took most all of my energy.

It didn’t help that I spent the majority of my time actively trying not to think about Knox, and failing miserably. Every time Liam made me work for a file instead of simply telling me I had the name slightly off or needed to sign it out, I wanted to scream because he was stealing my Knox time. Which was crazy because Knox shouldn’t be my focus. He shouldn’t be my anything. Yet something kept me from believing that.

Pulling up the largest pile, I perused the police reports once again, determined to keep Knox out of my brain long enough to make some actual progress. There was something off about it, and I couldn’t place my finger on it.

Suspect Johnah Kingston was seen entering the woods by Mariam Jones at approximately ten pm. According to the witness he was stumbling out of Dolly’s and shouting back at the door in anger. The witness stated she couldn’t hear the words clearly enough to understand them but that there was hostility in his voice. Mariam called the police station at that time to report his erratic behavior stating she was concerned he was going to get hurt in the woods alone due to his apparent intoxication.

This paragraph felt odd and dishonest. I read it word by word and eventually copied it in my notebook knowing that any requests to photo copy would be denied. Liam the jerk. That was his new name in my head.

After copying the text I began to circle and underline anything that stood out to me. Was it possible Mariam Jones was still alive? In technical terms it wasn’t that long ago; it just felt like it to me due to my age. I needed to find her.

It hit me as odd that Mariam was mentioned numerous times throughout the entire report, but I couldn’t fine one signature of hers or even her personal information. Was she home when she saw my grandfather walk into the woods? Was she going to the bar herself? I read her name initially and pictured a little busy body old lady on her front porch spying on the entire town in the guise of knitting or reading. But that many years ago Mariam might have been a more common name and not that of just little old ladies.

Since my mom never really knew her father before he died, the only stories I had of him were the ones Grandma had told about their courtship, which were her version of glory days. Other than that, everything else she mentioned of him was shroud in her dementia and possibly inaccurate, especially near the end when she talked about my grandfather, the dragon slayer. I was waiting for her to start singing Man of La Mancha at the rate she was spiraling downward. Watching her go from mean old lady, for she was always that, to forgetful, to incoherent was something that’d stay with me all of my days. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

I reread the paragraph for the twenty billionth time. Something felt off. I knew it. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and repeated the process all over again. The key was in that paragraph. If only it were written in neon so I could find it.

“Almost finished in here?” Liam the jerk knew for certain sure I was not and his voice didn’t even pretend to care either which way. Why couldn’t they have a cute little old man running the place who thought I reminded him of one of his grandbabies and was helpful beyond helpful? That’s how it always worked in mystery movies. Either that or that the single town hottie who only had eyes for the investigator, and if that was Liam… double ewwwwww.

“Not really.” I bit my tongue so hard trying not to go off on him as I rose from my perch. True, it was a power move since he was no longer looking down at me, but it wasn’t as overt as me spouting back what I really wanted to say.

“I take my lunch break in fifteen minutes.” I crossed my fingers he wasn’t going to ask me to join him. Since Knox left, he hadn’t brought any flirt on, but when Knox was there, I could have sworn he was and that simply wouldn’t do. “Can you be out by then?”

And that was a big ball of relief followed by me calling him a very colorful array of names in my head.

“Yes, but I don’t plan to be.” My anger showed in my words, so I plastered on my smile hoping it covered up my pissiness.

“Excuse me?” Mission Fail.

“I can be out at any time, but that isn’t my plan. I plan to stay here until you close.” In for a penny… I dropped my arms to my side to give off the pretense of not being as bitchy as I was being. I was usually better at hiding my disdain from those who like to exert what little power they had over me. I saw it all the time at school and knew I would see it a lot more in my chosen field, so I decided early on to pick my battles. This wasn’t one worth fighting, especially since he didn’t say stay away for always. Maybe I was hungry and that was what had me in this pickle. Rhi always said I went straight to hangry.