Unwritten (Woodlands 5)

He gives me a thumbs-up and ambles off to get us some food.

My purse buzzes. I pull out my phone and see that Detective Pressley is calling. Her name sends a shiver of unease down my spine, but I answer instead of avoiding her.

“Hello, Detective Pressley.”

“Landry, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. No injuries?”

“Do you already know about Marrow?”

“Indeed, I do.” She sounds immensely cheerful. “I even have pictures of your handiwork.”

I grimace. “Am I going to jail for that?” I ask, thinking about Davis’s stint in the slammer.

“No. It’s a clear case of self-defense. No one will be charging you with anything, although an officer will be coming by to take your statement at some point. Where are you?”

“At the hospital.”

“And how’s your friend?”

“Good. The knife didn’t hit anything serious so he’s going to have a painful recovery but he should be fine. He’s very excited about the dope scar he’s going to have.”

Pressley laughs merrily. I pull the phone away from my head and stare at it. This is wildly out of character for her.

“Who’s that?” Davis asks, joining me with a tray full of food and drink.

“It’s Pressley,” I mouth and put the phone back to my ear.

Davis sets the tray and crosses his arms. A frown creases his forehead. I’m sure I look exactly that befuddled.

“I like his attitude,” she’s saying. “In any event, I wanted to let you know that Marrow is being booked for attempted homicide, violating his probation, and felony assault. Because he’s across state lines in violation of his probation, he’ll be sent back to jail immediately. He will await trial inside and will have to serve out his original sentence, in full, as well as any other time for the attempted homicide. It sounds like the defense lawyer is already trying to get him to agree to a plea deal which could carry a ten-year sentence.”

“He shouldn’t even be out,” I growl.

She immediately grows serious. “I know, Landry. The laws around stalking are terrible, but the good thing is that he’s going away for a long time.”

“I hope he gets some treatment inside. Some therapy so that when he gets out, he doesn’t do the same thing.”

Pressley is silent a bit too long before she sighs. “The system isn’t perfect.”

“Sorry. None of this is your fault. Thank you for calling me.”

She sighs. “Be well, Landry. I think this chapter of your life is over. Anyway, I called to let you know that a review of Marrow’s cellphone reveals that he had contact with someone in your band and informed Marrow of your whereabouts.”

“In my band? In FMK?” I can’t believe it. No one in FMK would do that to me. My mind skips back to the first conversation I had with Berry. She warned me about Hollister. How he didn’t like women with the band. Had he heard that Adam wanted me to continue to travel with them?

“A male named Albert Buchourd. He’s five feet ten inches tall. Has a full sleeve of SpongeBob tattoos on the right arm.”

“I know him.” I cut her off. The Fat Albert makes sense now. “Everyone calls him Albie.”

“Well, Good. I wanted you to know. Forewarned is forearmed. I’ve got to run. Call me if you need anything,” she says.

“Thanks,” I manage to say as I lower the phone to the table.

“What’d she say?” Davis asks impatiently.