Page 17
Story: Blood and Buttercups
The second officer peers down at his clipboard. “You are Piper Edwards, correct?”
I almost tell him we’ve already covered that, but then I decide it’s not in my best interest to sass the cop.
“Yes.”
“What do you do for a living, Piper?”
“I’m a flower farmer.”
Both officers look up, giving me twin incredulous looks.
“I grow flowers. I sell them. It’s a thing.”
Mr. Clipboard shakes his head like it’s the most ridiculousthinghe’s ever heard.
“How long did you and Mr. Nelson date?”
“Just a little over two years.”
“How did you feel when you found out he was cheating on you?”
That seems like a trick question. If I say I was mad, they’ll think I killed him. If I say I wasn’t, they’ll know I’m lying.
“I was upset.”
He nods. “What did you do Friday evening? Be specific.”
“I always have a stand at the Friday Night Farmer’s Market,” I tell him. “I was there from four-thirty until just after nine.”
“Did anyone see you?”
Relief washes over me. “My friend, my brother, dozens of my customers. A bunch of the other vendors, too. Sal, the lady who organizes the whole thing, was there. I talked to her for a few minutes before I left. And after the market, I went to my friend’s house.”
He scratches something else on his clipboard.
“Do you know anyone who might have held a grudge against your boyfriend?”
I wish he’d stop calling Kevin that.
“Not off the top of my head.”
“What about the woman he was with?”
“I never found out who she was. He outed himself with an accidental text message, and I broke up with him right afterward.”
The first cop frowns. “Isn’t that a little hasty?”
Is he seriously judging me right now?
“He’d been acting weird for months,” I say. “I had a good idea that something was going on, but he was careful to cover his tracks.”
“And did you know Mr. Nelson was selling drugs?”
I nearly choke. “I’m sorry, he waswhat?”
“We found one hundred twenty-nine grams of cocaine in his residence, along with evidence he’d been dealing.”
“That’s impossible,” I argue. “There’s no way Kevin is a drug dealer!”
I almost tell him we’ve already covered that, but then I decide it’s not in my best interest to sass the cop.
“Yes.”
“What do you do for a living, Piper?”
“I’m a flower farmer.”
Both officers look up, giving me twin incredulous looks.
“I grow flowers. I sell them. It’s a thing.”
Mr. Clipboard shakes his head like it’s the most ridiculousthinghe’s ever heard.
“How long did you and Mr. Nelson date?”
“Just a little over two years.”
“How did you feel when you found out he was cheating on you?”
That seems like a trick question. If I say I was mad, they’ll think I killed him. If I say I wasn’t, they’ll know I’m lying.
“I was upset.”
He nods. “What did you do Friday evening? Be specific.”
“I always have a stand at the Friday Night Farmer’s Market,” I tell him. “I was there from four-thirty until just after nine.”
“Did anyone see you?”
Relief washes over me. “My friend, my brother, dozens of my customers. A bunch of the other vendors, too. Sal, the lady who organizes the whole thing, was there. I talked to her for a few minutes before I left. And after the market, I went to my friend’s house.”
He scratches something else on his clipboard.
“Do you know anyone who might have held a grudge against your boyfriend?”
I wish he’d stop calling Kevin that.
“Not off the top of my head.”
“What about the woman he was with?”
“I never found out who she was. He outed himself with an accidental text message, and I broke up with him right afterward.”
The first cop frowns. “Isn’t that a little hasty?”
Is he seriously judging me right now?
“He’d been acting weird for months,” I say. “I had a good idea that something was going on, but he was careful to cover his tracks.”
“And did you know Mr. Nelson was selling drugs?”
I nearly choke. “I’m sorry, he waswhat?”
“We found one hundred twenty-nine grams of cocaine in his residence, along with evidence he’d been dealing.”
“That’s impossible,” I argue. “There’s no way Kevin is a drug dealer!”
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