before that happens.”
“I wish I could.” He opened the glass door that was still sporting large masking tape X’s to protect it from the storm.
The county jail was bustling with hundreds of people. They all seemed to be going in different directions. The woman at the front desk looked especially harried—there was a pencil stuck almost straight up in her dark hair and a long pen streak on one cheek.
“I can’t do what you’re asking,” she told me. “But lucky for you, the assistant DA is here, and she can probably help you. Lord knows we need to get some of these people out of here. The state will shut us down if they find out how many inmates we have right now.”
She pointed to a door down the hall on the right. Kevin and I continued our search there. I knocked on the door labeled “Conference Room,” and when there was no answer, I opened it and went inside.
People were lined up wall to wall waiting to talk with a diminutive woman in a navy blue suit who was seated at a long table. There were so many briefcases—probably one for every lawyer present—they could’ve opened a luggage store.
People ranging from senior citizens to teenagers were trying to get their cases heard. Everything from breaking and entering (supposedly to get out of the storm) to stealing cars (to get away from the storm) was on the docket. No wonder they wanted to get a few people out of there.
I wasn’t sure what the protocol was in cases like this, but when the assistant DA called, “Next!” Kevin pushed me forward. I stared at her for a moment, then told her the whole story about my father mistakenly being arrested in my shop.
I expected some questions, maybe paperwork, asking to talk to the arresting officer—everything except her saying, “So you aren’t willing to press charges. Here you go.” She handed me a file and I was dismissed from the group that surrounded her. “Take that to the sergeant at the admitting desk. He’ll tell you where you can pick him up. Next!”
I was stunned and happy. I almost didn’t know what to do. I’d been expecting such a major ordeal, and it was nothing. I grabbed Kevin’s hand and we left the crowded room.
“I guess they have so many people in custody that they don’t want to deal with anyone they don’t have to.” He shrugged. “You lucked out.”
“I can’t believe it,” I agreed. “Let’s find my father and get out of here.”
We walked around until we found the right desk and gave the man behind it the file. He looked at it, shrugged and called to have Danny Evans brought up. He stamped the file, and we moved to one side so the people behind us could do their business.
Too bad the people behind us were police officers—Tim and Scott.
“Dae?” Tim looked surprised and puzzled. “Brickman? What are you doing here?”
Chapter 27
A hundred excuses came to mind. I was the mayor. I could be conducting all sorts of town business with the admitting office at the county jail. None of those excuses made any sense, so none of them made it to my lips.
Tim and Scott held a large, burly man dressed in overalls between them. He was covered in what appeared to be blood. There was a large cut on his head.
“Mr. Borden?” I looked a little closer and realized that I knew him. “Are you all right?”
“Sure thing, Mayor. It was nice of you to be here and see me off. You should’a seen the other fella.” He chuckled. “He was a mess.”
He smelled strongly of whiskey. I knew from past experience that Mr. Borden ended up here a time or two every year when he got a little carried away while drinking.
“Wilbur got into a fight with his next-door neighbor—again—this time about a tree that came down in his yard during the storm,” Scott explained.
“I couldn’t even get out of my driveway,” Mr. Borden added. “How is that fair, Mayor? I asked him politely to move it, but he didn’t. We got into an argument. He punched me—I punched him. He hit me with my own bottle of whiskey. I hit him back with a tree limb.”
“And Mr. Arthur, your neighbor, is in the hospital,” Tim reminded him.
Mr. Borden shrugged. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far, Mayor. If you can help me out with this, I’ll be sure to vote for you next year.”
I appreciated the offer and could relate to having a tree in the way, but this wasn’t a good way to handle it. “I’m sorry, Mr. Borden. I wish I could help. Maybe Mr. Arthur won’t press charges against you.”
“Are you two dropping off or what?” the sergeant behind the desk growled at Duck’s finest.
“Don’t move,” Tim said to me. “I want to know what’s going on after we get Mr. Borden processed. I think you at least owe me that much.”
I wasn’t sure why I owed him anything, but Tim had his own guidelines on these things. I didn’t plan to wait around for the conversation—we could talk later in private.
But the side door buzzed open to admit Mr. Borden at the same time that the deputies released my father. They passed each other in the doorway.
“Hey! Wait a minute,” Tim protested. “You can’t just let this man go. I arrested him for breaking and entering last night at Missing Pieces.” He looked back at me. “Dae, did you bail him out?”
“Not exactly.” I wished I didn’t have to deal with this right now.
“He doesn’t look like he’s escaping,” Scott remarked. “Someone posted bail for him.”
“Not exactly?” Tim asked. “Then what?”
Two deputies took custody of Mr. Borden, who went along peacefully, knowing the drill too well. I could hardly grab my father and make a run for the front door. I looked at Kevin, who shrugged but didn’t say anything. I guessed this was my mess to clean up.
“I asked him to stay there,” I explained. “Danny Evans, this is Officer Tim Mabry.”
“We’re acquainted.” Danny nodded.
“And Officer Scott Randall,” I continued while my brain searched frantically for a way to explain the situation without revealing our relationship. This definitely wasn’t the place I wanted everything to come out.
“My house is flooded,” Danny said. “I work at the Sailor’s Dream—also flooded. My van is wrecked. Your mayor showed me some Christian kindness that I didn’t know existed anymore. She let me stay at her shop instead of on the street. She bought me a meal and made me feel like I mattered to the world for a change. Then you two showed up.”
He spoke with a passion that silenced Tim’s outrage. Best of all, his explanation had nothing to do with him being my father. It seemed I was spared from explaining after all. I’d felt so guilty and conscious of my secret that I hadn’t realized there was something else to say.
Tim turned to me and I nodded. “I didn’t think about you noticing that someone else was in Missing Pieces.”
He looked uncomfortable. “I always check up on you—the shop, I mean. It’s part of my routine. Just to make sure everything is okay in town. You know?”
I smiled. It seemed Kevin wasn’t my only guardian angel.
“I feel like a fool,” Tim said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Evans. If the phones would’ve been working, my first course of action in these circumstances would’ve been to call the mayor and ask her what was going on. I hope you won’t sue the town for wrongful prosecution.”
Danny shook his hand. “I don’t think I’d do that, since Dae came to get me out. But thanks for the apology, Officer.”
After a long, awkward moment of silence, Kevin said, “Right. I guess we’ll go now. See you guys later. Take care.”
The three of us walked out to Kevin’s pickup, leaving the two officers to file their reports and head back to Duck later. Once we were in the pickup and driving down the road, Kevin kept up a conversation with Danny, asking
