Chapter THIRTY-ONE
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Skip unfolded himself from the car, pointing the gun at me. It pretty much answered the question I’d started to ask. He looked about as natural with a gun as I would have carrying a jackhammer.
He looked from me to Rhonda and back at me. “What’s going on?”
“Put that away,” Rhonda said.
Skip shook his head.
“What are you going to do with it?” Rhonda spoke as if to an unruly child.
“What’s going on?” He repeated the words in a soft, throaty voice.
“I’m ready to go. Are you?” Rhonda said.
He nodded my way. “What does she know?”
“Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Now shut your mouth.”
“The cops came by my place.”
Rhonda did a double take. “What? When?”
“Today. This afternoon.”
“What’d you tell them?”
“I didn’t answer the door. I heard them talking about getting a warrant.”
“How the hell can they do that?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at me. “What do you know about this?”
“Nothing,” I said in complete truth.
His gaze shifted to Rhonda.
“What?” she said.
“Did you tell them anything?”
Rhonda’s jaw dropped. “Are you crazy?”
“Why would they be able to get a warrant?”
“I don’t know. Don’t look at me. I wouldn’t ... you know I wouldn’t. Not after everything—”
She shot a nervous glance at me.
Skip appeared dazed. “After everything I’ve done for you?”
“That’s enough,” Rhonda said.
He didn’t react to her words.
“What did you do?” I asked.