No Saint (Wild Men 6)

Is he insane?

That’s when I notice w

e’ve acquired an audience. All familiar faces, including Conrad, Dena, Mike, Edward, Fred, and a score of others whose names escape me right now as my mind tries to wrap itself around this fantastic accusation.

“Armed robbery,” I repeat, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

He brandishes a pair of handcuffs. “Please, step this way, Ross Jones. You know, I was sure that one day it would come to this. A repeat offender, son of a serial killer, following in his dad’s footsteps.”

“Hey, stop right there.” Ross glares at the man. “I’m following in nobody’s footsteps. And I ain’t going anywhere with you. What proof is there that I took part in this robbery?”

“Well, there’s cameras. And witnesses willing to testify.” The sheriff tsks. “That hair of yours is a dead giveaway. Pale as silver. Your old man’s the same. And besides...” He leans into the car, fishes something out. It’s in a sealed Ziploc bag that he waves in Ross’s face. “Isn’t this your girly necklace, huh?”

His pendant?

“How do you...?” I can see the blood draining from Ross’s face, leaving it deathly white. “I... I lost it. Must’ve dropped it somewhere. Give it back.”

“Dropped it, did you? During the robbery this morning, yeah?” The sheriff’s voice is full of glee. He’d be rubbing his hands together if he wasn’t still dangling the bag in front of Ross like bait. “Now you’re coming with me.”

Oh God.

“This is what Ed warned me about,” I whisper, horrified. “It’s happening.”

Blue eyes flick to me. Ross’s face is gray, his gaze wide, pupils dark. “What? He warned you? What the fuck?”

But the sheriff is already turning him around, clicking the handcuffs on, and pushing him into the back of his pickup, all before I’ve even had a chance to tell Ross it will be okay.

It will be... right? He’d never do something like that. Not Ross. He’s not a criminal. Although he.... He gave me that wad of money—maybe it was stolen money?

No. God, no way, I know my Ross. He wouldn’t lie to me, wouldn’t do that. I trust him. Maybe a few years ago, heck, a few months ago I’d have felt differently, but not anymore.

Then, what happened, how did this happen?

I feel like I’m stuck in molasses, unable to move or think straight. It’s all unrolling in slow motion. As the pickup rolls away, my paralysis breaks and I jerk after it.

But it’s too late. It’s already speeding away, and... I need to think. Make a plan. Find information. Allies.

I need to talk to Dad, and find Ross’s family. They love him, and might know how to help.

Maybe I’m worried for no real reason. Maybe those accusations won’t stick—but the sheriff seemed pretty sure of himself when he arrested Ross.

Stopping, I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, fighting for control. He said Ross was on the cameras... and then there’s the pendant.

God, what is going on here?

***

Dad doesn’t share my conviction about Ross’s innocence, unfortunately. I should’ve expected that. After all, I haven’t yet sat to talk to him about Ross, not properly, and now with the arrest, I’ve missed my chance. Nothing like being arrested for a crime to show you in a bad light.

“Are you so sure about that boy, Luna, that you’re willing to get involved in this mess? Armed robbery, now that’s a big thing.”

“She probably thinks it’s so cool to be an inmate’s girlfriend,” Josh sneers. “Visit him in prison to hold hands. Have prison babies.”

“Josh. Stop it. It’s not like that at all. I’m sure he’s innocent.”

And the worry is eating at me like acid. I’ve tried to find out to which facility he was taken, but the ones I called replied that he wasn’t there. Where is he? I need to talk to him...

“You just told me that the sheriff talked of security cameras, witnesses and a pendant Ross left on the scene,” Dad says in his reasonable voice that is starting to grate on my nerves.