Stranger in the Lake(65)
“You think Chief Hunt is dirty?”
Buddy frowns. “I didn’t say that. But ask anybody here. They’ll tell you that man don’t play fair.” He slaps a palm to the countertop. “Food’ll be up shortly.”
He ducks back inside and that’s it. Conversation over.
I wait for the food, contemplating Buddy’s words. I knew Chief Hunt was mean and power-hungry, that his policies were biased against the working class, that the sight of him kicked my heart into gear.
But dirty?
Buddy reappears, shoving two cans and the baskets of food at my chest, and I suddenly can’t think of anything other than how starving I am, the smell of smoked meat and fried potatoes waking up a new, animalistic hunger. I haven’t eaten much since finding out I was pregnant, and then Sienna washed up and killed whatever was left of my appetite. Now my stomach is so empty it’s howling.
Paul and I inhale our food, washing everything down with icy soda that chills me to the bone. The sun dipped behind the trees hours ago, and the temperature soon followed, nose-diving to somewhere in the midforties. One last weekend of sunshine before the rain moves in. I pull my coat tight around my body and shiver.
“I need to ask you something, and I need for you to tell me the truth.” Paul glances around, but our picnic table might as well be an island. Nobody wants to sit close enough to us to overhear. Still, he leans in, lowering his voice. “Are you afraid of me?”
No. The answer sounds in my mind, immediate and clear, but the word sticks to my tongue because I’m not entirely sure it’s the truth. When Paul lied, when he left on this crazy errand to Balsam Bluff, I wanted so desperately to believe in him that I made excuses for his behavior. But now, with the information I have today, I see the flaws in my thinking. This is a man who looked into a police officer’s eyes and lied, and convincingly. Who’s to say he isn’t doing the same with me?
So am I afraid of him? Maybe.
Paul nods. Looks away. “That’s fair. If I were sitting where you’re sitting, I’d be scared of me, too.” His gaze wanders back to mine. “But I swear to you, Charlotte, on my life and the life of our unborn child, I didn’t touch Sienna.”
“Why did Jax want to talk to you?”
“He needed some cash, a few supplies. I swear to you, it wasn’t anything more than that.” I roll my eyes, and he reaches across the empty baskets and wrappers for my hand. “You have no reason to believe me. I get that. But it’s the honest to God truth.”
I stare at him, and he stares back, his gaze strong and steady. Is he lying? Telling the truth? I don’t know what to believe.
“Listen, first thing tomorrow I want you to go to Sam. I want you to tell him you saw me talking to Sienna. Say you didn’t make the connection until tonight, when I told you it was the same woman.”
“You want me to turn you in?”
He nods.
“Why the sudden change?”
“Because I’ve been thinking about it, and this was my blunder. I won’t have you paying for following my lead, for saying something you knew was untrue in an attempt to protect me. You said it yourself. All it would take is one person who happened to be rolling by in their car, or some nosy neighbor who spotted us through an upstairs window, and we’re caught—both of us. This way, you beat them to the punch.”
“What about you? Sam will arrest you on the spot. I don’t know what the punishment is for lying to a cop, but—”
“Five years.” Paul’s shrug is going for nonchalant, but it doesn’t quite get there. “I probably wouldn’t get that long, but this is a capital felony case, so they’d have to give me some jail time.”
My stomach churns, and the back of my neck goes cold. Five years. That feels like an awful long time. “How do you know?”
“I talked to an attorney.”
This surprises me, though I suppose it shouldn’t. Paul, with his methodical thinking and color-coded to-do lists. Of course he’s talked to an attorney.
He squeezes my hand. “At least think about it.”
“I am thinking about it, and I don’t like it one little bit.” I snatch back my hand, drop it onto my lap. “Five years. Why did we lie?”
“I already told you. I panicked.”
“Yes, but why? Why are you running around like it’s your job to save Jax? What am I missing here?”
He clicks the top of a ketchup bottle up and down a few times, then scrubs his face with both hands. “Jesus, this is all such a clusterfuck.”
“I’m not an idiot, Paul. I know there’s more you’re not telling me, a lot more. You promised me answers.”
“I never said you were an idiot.”
“No, but you’re doing a damn good job of making me feel like one. Every time I turn around, I’m learning some big new secret.”
“I don’t keep secrets from you. It’s just...stuff I haven’t gotten around to telling you yet. Like the fact I love green asparagus but can’t stand the white kind, or that when I was nine, I fell out of a tree and got fifteen stitches in the back of my head. It doesn’t mean I’m keeping it from you.”
“What about the skunk somebody smeared all over Katherine’s car?”
He picks up an empty can, shakes it, then drops it back to the table. “What about it?”