Chương 2
“He said she complained about him.”
The parking lot seemed to tilt by half a degree.
Mercer looked at me.
“Complained about who?”
I did not answer immediately.
Derek did.
“She’s lying.”
Nobody had accused him of anything yet.
Mercer noticed.
So did Collins.
Three nights earlier, I had reported Derek Vance to an assistant manager after seeing him corner nineteen-year-old Kayla Morris near the loading dock.
Derek worked for a beverage distributor that made deliveries twice a week.
He had been touching Kayla’s waist while she tried to get around him.
When she told him to stop, he laughed and asked why she was pretending to be shy.
I had stepped between them.
Derek had called me Grandma.
I had called security.
The store had barred him from making deliveries pending a complaint review.
Apparently he had taken that personally.
“You followed me after my shift,” I said.
Derek shook his head.
“Coincidence.”
“At two sixteen in the morning?”
“We were getting food.”
“Walmart isn’t a restaurant.”
The tall man snorted before catching himself.
Derek stared at him.
Even Mercer looked briefly tired.
Collins asked Teresa to bring out the overnight manager.
She hurried inside.
Mercer turned back toward me.
“You still carrying?”
“No.”
Something crossed his face.
Not relief.
Surprise.
“I don’t own one anymore.”
That answer bothered him more.
He glanced at the tattoo hidden beneath my sleeve.
Derek saw the glance.
“What is she, some kind of cop?”
“No,” I said.
Mercer said nothing.
That silence drew everybody’s attention.
Derek laughed once, uncertainly.
“What, military?”
I picked up my bag.
My hands had begun trembling.
They always waited until afterward.
During danger, they belonged to the woman I used to be.
Afterward, they belonged to me.
Mercer noticed the shaking.
He moved closer but did not touch me.
“Sit down.”
“I want to go home.”
“You’re going to need to give a statement.”
“Collins can take it.”
His expression hardened.
“Morgan.”
“Sheriff.”
That stopped him.
We were no longer two people in a damaged building overseas.
He was an elected county official standing at an active crime scene, and I was a witness who had just put two men on the ground.
The distinction mattered.
Mercer nodded once.
“Deputy Collins will take your statement.”
Teresa came back with Calvin Price, our overnight manager, who looked as if somebody had awakened him despite the fact that he had been working for seven hours.
His tie was crooked.
He stared at the handcuffed men.
Then he stared at me.
“Morgan, what happened?”
“Derek happened.”
Calvin’s face lost color.
He knew the name.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The second was that he looked toward the store before answering.
“Maybe we should discuss this inside.”
“No,” Mercer said.
Calvin blinked.
Mercer showed him his identification anyway.
“I need access to any exterior surveillance covering this section of the lot.”
Calvin rubbed the back of his neck.
“There might be a problem with that.”
I looked toward the camera above the garden center.
The indicator light was still dark.
“What problem?”
Calvin swallowed.
“That camera hasn’t been working.”
“For how long?” Collins asked.
Calvin hesitated.
“Couple days.”
“Try again,” I said.
His eyes met mine and slid away.
Teresa folded her arms.
“Calvin.”
He sighed.
“Maybe two weeks.”
My stomach tightened.
I had reported the dead camera eleven days earlier after Kayla mentioned that Derek sometimes waited near the employee exit.
Calvin had told me maintenance already had a ticket open.
Mercer looked at me.
This time, I could see the question before he asked it.
“You knew the camera was out?”
“I reported it.”
“When?”
“Eleven days ago.”
Calvin shifted his weight.
“I’d have to check.”
“You told me the repair ticket was already submitted.”
“I said I thought it was.”
“No, Calvin.”
Teresa’s voice had gone flat.
“You told both of us it was submitted.”
Calvin looked irritated now, which was easier for him than looking frightened.
“We have procedures.”
“Apparently not very good ones,” Teresa said.
Derek began laughing from the curb.
It was quieter than before, but worse.
Calvin turned toward him.
Derek smiled.
“You should probably call your district manager.”
Nobody spoke.
Mercer’s attention moved from Derek to Calvin.
Calvin’s face answered before his mouth did.
“What does he mean?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
Derek leaned back against the concrete curb.
“Tell her, Calvin.”
“Be quiet.”
“You were real talkative yesterday.”
Calvin took one step toward him.
Collins blocked the path with an arm.
“Sir, stay over there.”
I had known Calvin for four years.
He complained about inventory numbers, drank terrible hazelnut coffee, and kept photographs of his twin daughters taped inside his office cabinet.
He had once driven Teresa home during an ice storm because her husband’s truck would not start.
I had trusted him in the casual way people trust coworkers who become part of the furniture of their lives.
Now he could not look at me.
Mercer watched him with the patience of a man waiting for a door to open.
“What did you and Mr. Vance discuss yesterday?”
Calvin rubbed his forehead.
“It wasn’t like that.”
My trembling stopped.
I almost wished it had not.
“What wasn’t like what?”
Calvin finally looked at me.
“Morgan, I was trying to keep this from becoming a bigger problem.”
Behind him, the automatic doors opened and closed for nobody.
Cold fluorescent light spilled across the pavement.
Derek smiled again.
And for the first time that night, the four men beside my car were no longer the thing that frightened me most.
Calvin opened his mouth, closed it, then looked past me toward the rows of parked cars as if a better answer might be waiting beneath one of them.
“I told Derek the complaint was still being reviewed,” he said.
Teresa stared at him.
“You told him?”
“I didn’t give him paperwork.”
“That isn’t what she asked.”
May you like
Calvin rubbed both hands down the front of his shirt.
“He kept calling the store.”
