Page 126 of Secrets Along the Shore

“There’s nothing you can say to make me believe you aren’t responsible for the murders of Aria Benner, Hailey Peterson, and Teresa Anders.” I rattle off their full names because anything less seems disrespectful.

Fogerty’s eyebrows rise, his head slowly leaning to the left. “Nothin’? You sure about that? I’d be willin’ to make a bet with you if?—”

Fogerty’s words are drowned out by an ear-splitting alarm originating from somewhere in the hallway. The door swings open, banging into the wall as Officer Dalton strides inside, his huge form bristling with urgency as he heads for Fogerty.

“Up! Now!” Dalton barks, unlocking Fogerty from the bolt on the table and grabbing his upper arm.

“What’s going on?” I rise from my chair and step back as Dalton maneuvers Fogerty toward the door.

“Riot in the common room. Don’t know more,” Dalton says, pushing Fogerty through the doorway. “I need to go help, and I can’tleave him here. You stay and I’ll lock you in until this is under control. Shouldn’t be long.”

The door locks behind him, and for several seconds I stand still, straining to hear what’s going on beyond this room. The window in the door is one-way, so I can’t see anything in it but my own dim reflection. Eventually, I take a seat and stare at the door. The fleeting notion of propping the chair Fogerty vacated beneath the door handle occurs to me, in case one of the rioting prisoners manages to get their hands on the key…but I stop myself. My imagination is a vivid one, and often prone to extremes.

Though, to be fair, I am sitting alone in a jail interview room in the middle of a riot, objectively an extreme situation. So…not sure how far-fetched that possibility actually is.

I reflexively reach for my phone, then remember I had to leave it at the front desk. No cell phones are allowed in the visitation and interview rooms. I’m dying to know if Goat has come up with anything during the forty-five minutes I’ve been in the bowels of the jail.

Maybe I can check it before resuming our discussion.

If Goat has discovered who our victim is, that would definitely give me an advantage when trying to finagle a confession out of Fogerty.

Or maybe I should hold off continuing this until after we’ve had a chance to build a file on our victim. Then?—

The lock clicks and the door flies open. Dalton rushes inside, and though he doesn’t say anything, his pinched expression and the shock traced in the lines of his face speak volumes.

Something out there has gone really,reallywrong.

CHAPTER

EIGHT

“What’s happened?”I ask, my face growing hot.

“It’s Fogerty,” Dalton says. “He got attacked.”

“By who? He was with you.”

He whirls his hand around urgently, motioning for me to exit. “Let’s get you back to the front office and I’ll fill you in there. The walls have ears.”

I follow him out, sticking close to his side. The walk into the heart of the jail set me on edge, but this…this makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Part of me halfway expects a shank-wielding prisoner to jump out at us from every door we pass.

I quietly exhale a relieved breath once we reach the front without incident. The room is abuzz, with the desk clerk on the phone and correctional officers scooting in and out. An interior window along one wall provides a view into the jail administrator’s office. Tommy is standing behind his desk, red-faced and flinging his arms in and out, giving the poor officer standing in front of his desk a dressing-down that looks physically painful.

Dalton directs me to a chair beside a desk in the bullpen. I sit and stare him down. “Okay, what happened?”

“We got rushed by a couple of guys who broke free from the ruckus in the common room,” he says, taking the desk chair. “Didn’t touchme, but had a good go at Fogerty. He’s pretty beat up. I’m betting broken ribs, concussion?—”

“Where is he now?”

“Ambulance. On the way to Huntsville General.”

I sigh and rub my face. “Is he talking?”

“Won’t shut up, though it was just cursing by the time the EMTs took him.”

“I wasn’t done interviewing him. It’s important.”

“Yeah, I figured. We all know about the body they found this morning.”