Everything in Myra’s expression agreed with that statement. “His lawyer wants the trial moved out of Ordinary. Says he’d never get a fair trial here.”
She was probably right. Dan had made a nuisance of himself to so many people that I didn’t think we’d be able to scrape together an unbiased jury.
“Where are they thinking of transferring him?”
“Polk County.”
That was east, in the valley. Far enough away from Ordinary no one could have heard of Dan, and a small enough town that he might be able to bargain down the charges.
“You put him up on assault with a deadly weapon?”
Myra’s cool blue eyes held mine. “I put him up on everything I could think of.”
I inhaledthen stopped because it pulled somewhere deep in me, and I thought it might hurt a lot more if I weren’t on meds.
“How long until I bribe my way out of here?”
“Uh, that would be never,” Jean said.
“So a few hours?”
“You can’t bribe your way out of here,” Myra said.
“Why not? I did when I had to have my tonsils out. Everyone has a stack of parking tickets in their closet.”
“No,” Myra said. “I already told Alister I’d take care of his tickets and his library overdue fines if he promised me he wouldn’t let you bribe your way out.”
“Traitor,” I grumbled.
She patted my upper arm, her clear eyes seeking out mine. “You were shot, Delaney. Shot. Through and through. Broke ribs. You were shot.”
A weird chill ran down my spine at hearing those words. I was still pretty firmly in denial of the reality of the whole thing.
Dan Perkin had shot me.
Over rhubarb.
I giggled. Who got shot over a vegetable?
“Oh, great,” Myra said. “Now you’re going crazy.”
I tried not to laugh, but laughter pushed up my chest and into my throat as if it were filled with helium. I snorted. It had to be the drugs. Getting shot wasn’t funny, was it?
“No.” I raised my hands to reason with her. A pink blob bobbed with that movement, making a littletink-tinksound. I looked up to see the balloon swaying gently on the string tied to my pinkie.
Death had brought me a pink balloon. I couldn’t stop myself. I snickered then giggled again.
“Really?” Jean sounded exasperated.
“I’m fine,” I insisted, trying to keep the laughter in. “It’s the drugs. Just the drugs.”
When I tried to think through what Dan had done, the whole thing just seemed so out of character. I mean, Dan was a blowhard and a pain in the butt, but he had never before shot anyone. Especially not a police officer in broad daylight in front of a witness. Even he wasn’t that bold and stupid.
“Are we sure it was Dan?” I asked.
Jean swore softly and Myra patted my arm again. “He was standing there, the gun in his hand, and you hadn’t even been on the ground long enough for the pool of blood to spread.”
“Thanatos?” I asked.
