The Rest of the Story(92)

It happened fast: one second she was there, perched by the half-open door, and then she was jumping out, noiselessly, into the dark behind us. I scrambled over, pulling the door shut again as Roo finally covered the last few inches between now and whatever was about to happen.

“Evening,” Later Gator said through the open window. He had a slim flashlight in his hand, the beam of which he pointed in the truck, moving it around. “License and registration, please.”

“It’s me you want,” I said, getting to my feet. I had one hell of a head rush as I started walking, but pushed through anyway. “Let him go.”

“Whoa,” Later Gator said, aiming the light at me. “How many people are back there? Don’t make another move. Understood?”

I nodded, standing there as his light shone bright in my face. “I’m Emma Payne,” I said. “It’s just me. That’s my dad right there.”

“Emma Payne?” he repeated.

Hearing this, my dad let his phone drop, coming up to the window as well. “Emma? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Can I please get out so I can explain?”

Later Gator nodded, gesturing toward the passenger-side door. To Roo he said, “You stay where you are and give me those documents. And keep your hands where I can see them.”

“He didn’t do anything,” I protested. “He’s just driving me home.”

“Saylor, it’s okay,” Roo told me, digging into his pocket for his wallet before reaching across to pop open the glove box. To Gator he said, “The registration is in here somewhere. This isn’t my truck—I’ve never had to find it before.”

“Not your truck?” Gator said suspiciously. “Then whose is it?”

“It’s an ice cream truck,” I said. “He’s a teenager. Of course it doesn’t belong to him!”

“Emma,” my dad barked through the window. “Get out. Now.”

Gator gave him a look. “Sir, I’ll ask you to step back so I can handle this.”

My dad, annoyed, took a tiny step backward. Gator, satisfied, turned back to Roo, taking his documents. After studying the license for what felt like a long time, he said, “Christopher Price. You’re from North Lake?”

“Yes, sir,” Roo said. God, I hated that I’d gotten him into this.

“Anything in the truck I should know about?”

“Other than Emma?” Roo asked. Gator nodded, humorlessly. “Just ice cream, sir.”

“Christopher Price?” my dad said. He looked at Roo, then me. “You’re the one who’s responsible for my daughter not being where she said she would be?”

“No,” I said. The bright light, still shining at both of us, was making my eyes water. “I left of my own accord, with someone else. He just brought me back.”

“You went to that party?” my dad demanded, now right back beside Gator despite his previous warning. “After I specifically told you not to?”

“I was upset,” I said, thinking of Bailey for the first time since she’d jumped ship. I hoped for her sake she was halfway to the town line by now. “I saw some people who offered me a ride. I went. I drank a beer. I regretted—”

Roo winced, biting his lip. Oh, shit. I’d just made things worse without even trying.

“You’ve been drinking?” my dad said. Now he wasn’t just mad: he was furious. “What are you even thinking?”

“I’m sorry!” I cried out, my voice breaking. Six sentences. But who was counting? “I was angry and stupid.”

Gator flipped the flashlight back so it was squarely on Roo. “Have you been drinking, Mr. Price?”

“No sir. I have to be at work at midnight. I was the DD tonight.”

“And if I have to call the mobile unit for a Breathalyzer, it will confirm that?”

“He hasn’t been drinking!” I protested. “He’s just driving me home. It’s me who screwed up—I’m the reason you’re all here—just let him go!”

“Emma,” my dad said. “Be quiet and let the officer do his job.”

“But Roo isn’t part of this!”

“Miss.” Gator turned the flashlight back to me. “Calm down and be quiet or you’ll have another problem. Understood?”

Roo glanced at me. I nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”

Gator looked back down at the license and registration in his hand. “Now, Mr. Price, you say you’re headed to work. Where is that?”

“Conroy Market, in North Lake. My boss is Celeste Blackwood. She’s there right now.”

“And where are your parents?”

I saw Roo swallow. “My mom is at work at the Bly County hospital. And my dad is deceased.”

Gator nodded, then looked at the registration again. “Okay. Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he turned, walking over to his cruiser and sliding behind the wheel. My dad came back up to the window, pointing a finger at Roo.

“You have a minor under the influence in your car,” he told him, his voice thick with anger. “I don’t care if you’re sober or not, I’ll still be pressing charges.”