“Were you paid by a third party to cut the fence lines and set the fires?”
“Can’t say. But you’re naïve to think I’m the only person who hates that damn family. They’re learning the hard way they don’t get to have everything.”
“So, you were paid?”
Dusty shrugs.
Keep going, Hibbs. He’s too stupid to realize he’s about to give you what you’re looking for.
"Sorry, we can't transcribe shrugs," Hibbs says. “I’ll ask again. Were you paid to set the fires and cut the fence lines?”
Dusty leans forward, maliciousness in his eyes. “I had no choice since the McKinnon bitch got me fired. I’d do it again.”
“Let’s try this again. Who paid you?”
“Just some guys from out of town.”
“Did they pay you in person?”
“You mean, are they still in town? Like I’d be stupid enough to tell you that.”
But you just did, asshole.
“You said ‘still’. Does that mean they were here?”
Dusty realizes his mistake and shuts up.
“You were seen with two men at The House a few nights ago. They weren’t local. Is that who paid you?”
“I think I’ve given you plenty.”
“One more question. The men with you the other night. Were they visiting from Boston?”
Dusty’s body stills. His face pales. I think he may have just pissed himself.
After the shock ebbs, he sits back, arms crossed once again. He’s scared. And it appears he’s done talking.
The two uniformed officers stand him up and escort him out of the room, but as soon as he crosses the threshold he yells overhis shoulder. “Tell the McKinnons to give them what they want. These fuckers are just getting started.”
An hour later, I’m in my patrol car driving through town aimlessly, my mind reeling as I play back Dusty’s interview.
His final warning as he left the room continues to haunt me. Then there was the hateful look on his face when he mentioned me. It’s no surprise to hear he isn’t my number one fan, but his belief that the McKinnons think they run this town and have me in their pocket is unsettling. Every head on the other side of the glass turned my way after his statement.
When the interview ended, my bosses naturally had some questions for me. I explained what happened with Chad a couple of months back and then my chat with the suspect. As far as I can tell, they believe me. However, I’m on their radar now, and not for the right reason. Not to mention, I’m worried about Livvy and Mom. If these assholes have something against me, is my family safe?
My personal phone pings with a text from Daisy. Just seeing her name on my phone takes a little of the weight from my chest.
Clover:
Mom and I made it to my appointment safe and sound.
Owen:
Good. I’d hate to have to gut Smith, I like him.
Clover:
Down boy.
