“Hey.” Cypress took Tom’s hand, leading him out of the funeral home and clear from the door as the paramedics came out with Aaron.
Tom was expecting some dramatic screaming or crazy threats, but he didn’t hear a peep out of Aaron as they wheeled him away. Tom clung to Cypress, forgetting to breathe until the ambulance doors shut, and it pulled away.
“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Fox asked. “Dispatch said someone was trying to kill everybody?”
“It was Aaron,” Tom replied, hoping his voice wasn’t as unsteady as it felt. “He’s the one who’s been helping Junior. He’s also the one who broke into my house…”
With Cypress holding his hand tight, Tom told Fox everything that had happened and what Aaron had said.
“Junior might be willing to make a deal and testify against Aaron,” Fox mused. “Lord knows he’s been trying everything to wiggle out of his charges. I have a feeling we know who all those mysterious prints belong to now.”
“Is he under arrest?” Cypress asked firmly.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Fox said. “I’ve got men already headed to the hospital to put a very cute pair of cuffs on him. Once he’s stable enough to move, he’s getting some new orange jammies.”
“Do you need anything else from me?” Tom asked, hoping the answer was no. He was totally exhausted, and he wanted to leave.
“I’ll need both of you to come down to the station for an official statement,” Fox replied with a sympathetic smile. “Annie Oakley in there, too.”
“Right, Miss Edie.” Tom frowned. “Shit, where is she?”
“She might be in there talking to forensics,” Fox suggested. “You can go check on her if you’d like.”
“Thank you, Fox.” Tom hesitated, asking carefully, “I don’t suppose Junior, uh, tried to do any wiggling that may involve me?”
Fox grinned. “Funny story. Did you know this state doesn’t actually have any laws against selling formaldehyde? The most you could get is a misdemeanor for distribution of hazardous chemicals.”
“Are you serious?” Tom stared in shock. “What, what about the state board? My license?”
“Oh, well, those guys could pop your license for immoral behavior or unethical practices, but hey, who’s gonna tell them?” Fox winked. “Go say good night to your friend and go home. We can get your statements tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Fox,” Cypress said, reaching out to shake his hand.
“Yeah, yeah,” Fox said, rolling his eyes. “You know I got your back, Shirley. You guys hurry up and get on out of here. I already told you once.”
“You got it,” Cypress confirmed, looping his arm with Tom’s and leading him back inside the funeral home to find Miss Edie.
She was still in the prep room while the forensics team took samples and bagged her revolver. A few cops were also in there, and everyone was spellbound as she chatted while she worked on Mr. Crosby’s sister’s hair.
“And then,” she was saying, clearly in the middle of a grand tale, “he tells me the money is in the paper bag. And I said, ‘You mean the paper bag Parkie just shit in?’”
They all burst out laughing, and Tom was very confused.
“Oh! Hey, baby!” Edie waved, setting her curling iron down and pulling Tom into a big hug. “Mm, you okay? Your color ain’t good, baby. Have you eaten today?”
“I’m, uh, still a little shaken up.” Tom smiled weakly. “Are you okay? You’re, well, you’re really calm.”
“Oh, this ain’t nothin’,” Edie said, waving her hand. “I’ve been in worse spots than this, baby.”
“Worse than someone threatening to kill you?”
“You know who you’re talking to, right?” one of the officers asked.
“Miss Edie, the hairdresser?” Tom tried.
“Miss Edith Emory, the getaway driver for the Pocketwatch Gang,” the officer explained. “Come on, she’s a freakin’ legend.”
“Emory?” Tom stared at Edie. “That’s not your… wait… you mean Scott was right? You were a bank robber?”
