Violet Manning-Turner rushed into the fray, Justine Mallory right on her heels.
“Are you all right?” Violet hovered around Turner. He said something to her that Clint didn’t hear.
“We should all go home,” Ray said. “Except the four of you.” He looked at Baker, Turner, Medford, and Woods. “You fellas are coming with me.”
“Ray!” Violet challenged, evidently unhappy with the chief’s decision. Ray refused to back down. Justine Mallory stared at Clint for a long assessing moment before she turned and followed the others.
Clint exhaled a mighty breath. The air smelled of the charred remains of his home. His gaze lingered on the black rubble highlighted by the three-quarter moon.
He’d lost everything and the truth still felt out of reach. Like Psycho Sid said, the whole community would be happy to see Clint dead. Maybe Ray was right, Clint considered, defeat sucking at him. Maybe this whole effort was pointless. But he’d waited so long for this moment. He couldn’t quit now.
Shouting dragged his attention back to the squad cars. Troy Baker was bellowing again. His friends backed him up, making comments of their own. Something about traitor.
“Bitch.”
Clint’s blood froze.
Another car had arrived.
Emily.
Baker and his buddies were shouting at her.
Fury blasted away the chill and Clint stormed right into the middle of the ruckus.
Ray had finally gotten Baker and Woods into one of the cruisers. Turner and Medford were being hustled into the other. Not quickly enough, since Medford managed to shake loose and get right in Emily’s face.
“You’ll get yours too,” he warned her. “Just wait—”
Clint grabbed Medford’s shoulder and jerked him around. He put one solid punch in Medford’s face and the guy dropped like the bag of shit he was.
Ray restrained Clint as Medford was hauled into the squad car. “Shake it off,” he warned.
Clint yanked his arm free of Ray’s grip. “Next time,” he threatened, “I won’t play nice.”
He turned back to Emily. She hadn’t moved. She stood at the edge of his yard near the end of the driveway, her arms wrapped protectively around her waist. She looked lost.
The rest of the crowd, which was bigger than Clint had realized, had to be herded back to their vehicles. Every damned one looked as if they’d come from some fancy party. Come to think of it, Baker and his friends had been dressed similarly.
Violet stopped a few feet from Emily, Justine Mallory at her side. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Emily,” Violet accused. “Just look what you’ve done.”
Justine ushered her away, toward one of the cars parked on the road. Emily stared after them; her shoulders trembled.
This was what she got for rescuing Clint last night. The ache started down low in his gut, unfamiliar and fierce. She took an unsteady step and then another. She was leaving.
“Emily.” Her name came out raw. His throat was sore and swollen from the smoke last night. Couldn’t be anything else. She hesitated, glanced back at him, then walked away.
Maybe he had made a mistake coming back here. But there was no stopping the momentum now.
31
11:45 p.m.
“I want the truth.” Ray gave Keith and Troy equal time with his most intimidating glare. He’d had enough. He’d already questioned Larry and Perry. They didn’t know anything. Just kept blustering about how the broken windshield was just to draw Clint Austin out of hiding. Larry would be paying for that. Dumbass.
“Why didn’t you haul Austin in?” Troy demanded. “You didn’t want to put him in the car with any of us? Or you just plain didn’t think he did anything wrong? You’re on his side in all of this, aren’t you,Ray?”
Troy paced back and forth in the interview room like a lion on Ritalin. Ray wasn’t at all sure he would get the man to calm down short of giving him overnight accommodations. He didn’t want to do that. Troy had kids. It was a damned shame he wasn’t thinking of them in all this.
