“I don’t have to confirm or deny anything with you. And nobody gave you permission to be in here asking questions in the first place. Move along.”
There was more jostling of the crowd and Brooks appeared by the chief’s side. He looked physically sick to see me there.
“True, you don’t have to. But with all due respect, sir,” I said to the chief. “Free speech allows me to ask questions.”
“And trespassing allows you to get arrested.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd. A couple of giggles. Paulie looked smug. His girlfriend held up a phone, recording everything. Daisy stuck out her tongue at the camera. The girl curled one lip and zoomed in.
I swallowed, gathering my courage. It wasn’t often that asking questions was this uncomfortable, but if I believed in getting answers—and I did—I had to do it. “I’m sorry, but the public deserves to know the truth about what happened.” I flicked a look pointedly at the cheerleader’s phone, then turned to Paulie. “You made a threat on Coach Farley’s life during halftime. Can you tell us what that was about?”
“It was about you going to jail, you nosy trout!” Paulie snarled.
“Did he just call you a trout?” Daisy asked. “Trouts don’t even have noses, do they?”
The chief’s eyes narrowed to slits. I could feel the anger radiating off of him. I might have been better off in jail, actually.
But, no. I wasn’t going to jail. Not for trying to do my job. Even if, technically, my job was to write a six-hundred-word piece on a bank grand opening right now. Okay, fine, I was trying to do my hobby. No, wait, seeking truth and justice wasn’t a job or a hobby—it was a calling. A calling that I, and a great many journalists before me, couldn’t ignore.
“Paulie, were you alone in the locker room, or were your teammates with y—”
“Okay!” Chief Henderson said. “I warned you.”
But before he could follow that thought, Brooks lunged between us.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brooks said, spreading out his arms to protect me. “If you arrest her, you could have a problem on your hands.” The chief seemed to be thinking, suspicious. “This whole thing got recorded,” Brooks whispered, indicating with his head Paulie’s girlfriend’s phone. “Hollis isn’t Mary Jean. Her podcast has potential worldwide reach, and you know what the media does with stuff like that. She can spin it however she wants, and if just one news outlet picks it up, that video could end up everywhere by the end of the day. She could make it look very bad for Parkwood PD.”
“Put that thing away!” the chief snapped. The girl squeaked and whisked her phone behind her back.
“Just—let me take care of it,” Brooks said. “You and Paulie let it go. You don’t want to give her any ammunition. Just go your separate ways and I’ll get her out of here.”
While I was appreciative of Brooks diffusing the situation, this was starting to feel like a damsel in distress situation—exactly what I’d told him I didn’t need from him. And right when I seemed to have Paulie on the verge of talking. “Excuse me? That’s very nice of you, Officer Hopkins, but do I have any say about when and how I’ll leave?”
“No,” Chief Henderson, Paulie, and Brooks said at the same time.
The chief thought about it for another maddening minute, burning holes through me with his stare. Then slowly, he turned toward the crowd.
“Get out of here, son,” he growled. “Everybody get going, now. Go on! Shower and go home.”
The crowd dispersed into the locker rooms. I could hear their voices through the door, going over the excitement of my near-arrest.
The chief turned to face me again. He pointed a finger at my nose. “If I catch you near my son again, you’ll wish for jail. You understand me?”
After the chief left, all three of us let out a sigh of relief. Well, mine was part-relief, part-frustration, because I still hadn’t gotten any information.
“Thanks, Brooks,” I said. “I don’t want to sound unappreciative, but next time could you not do that? I had him. He was so close to answering.”
He gave me an irritated look. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave it alone.”
“I’m not going to leave it alone, Brooks,” I said. “I literally can’t. You have to understand. You have a calling, too, right?” I touched my finger to his badge. He softened immediately.
“Well, I can’t be saving your behind every time you get it in your head that you need to go poking the chief and his son.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
“And you owe me one.”
I held out my hand to shake, this time feeling a little less weird and awkward than the last time. “I’ll pay for both of our dinners tomorrow, then. Deal?”
He tried to maintain his exasperation, but a grin prevailed. “Deal,” he said and shook. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“It’s a date,” I said.
“I told you so!” Daisy cried, hopping on her toes. “It’s a date! I knew it!”
Chapter 18
Daisy sat on my bed amidst what was basically every scrap of clothing I owned. Willow happily dove in and out of the pile, while her boys entertained themselves with the gaming system Trace had bought during his “techno-hip” phase—a phase that ended the minute he got bored. I didn’t even realize I’d inherited the system until I was unpacking a box in my new house in Parkwood, only to find it tossed in with the bath sheets and washcloths. I’d sat on the hallway floor right in front of the open closet door, hugging the console to my chest and crying over the complete U-turn my life had taken. I was hardly a gamer, but I couldn’t bring myself to part with it. Now it was a dust-collector and I never even thought about it until I needed something to entertain Daisy’s kids.
“I think I’ve gained weight,” I
