He brought his hand up to wipe his forehead and knew then he had to do something. Anything to avoid the fate that certainly awaited him. His mind began to click faster, hobbled and broken, but faster nonetheless. His only hope, the only thing that could help him, was to turn back the clock somehow and undo the arrest from the night before.
How the hell, though, was he going to do that?
You have information,a little voice answered.
Miles had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the phone ringing. Earlier, he’d made Jonah breakfast and seen him off to school, but instead of picking up around the house, he’d crawled back into bed, hoping to get another couple of hours of sleep. Though he hadn’t gotten much, he’d been able to doze for a little while. He would work from noon to eight, and he was looking forward to a relaxing evening after that. Jonah would be gone-he was going to the movies with Mark-and Sarah had offered to come by so they could spend some time together.
The phone call would change all that.
Miles grabbed a towel and fastened it around his waist, answering the phone just before the recorder picked up. Charlie was on the other end. After exchanging pleasantries, Charlie got right to the point.
“You better head on in now,” he said.
“Why? What’s up?”
“You brought Sims Addison in last night, didn’t you?”
“Yea, I did.”
“I can’t find the report.”
“Oh… about that. Another call came in and I had to rush back out again. I was coming in early anyway to finish it up. Is there a problem?” “I’m not sure yet. How soon can you be here?”
Miles wasn’t sure what to make of that, nor did he really understand the tone Charlie was using.
“I just got out of the shower. Half an hour, maybe?”
“When you get in, make sure you come and talk to me. I’ll be waiting.”
“Can’t you at least tell me what the rush is all about?”
There was a long pause on the other end.
“Just get here as quick as you can. We’ll talk then.”
“So what’s all this about?” Miles asked. As soon as he’d arrived, Charlie had pulled him into the office and closed the door behind him. “Tell me about last night.”
“With Sims Addison, you mean?”
“Start from the beginning.”
“Um… it was a little after midnight, and I was parked down the road from Beckers-you know, the bar out near Vanceboro?”
Charlie nodded, crossing his arms.
“Just waiting around. It had been quiet, and I knew that the place was closing. A little after two in the morning, I saw someone leave the bar and I followed the car on a hunch, and it was a good thing I did. The car was weaving all over the road, so I pulled him over to give him a sobriety test. That’s when I found out it was Sims Addison. I could smell the booze on his breath as soon as I got close to the window. When I asked him to get out of the car, he fell. He passed out, so I put him in the back of the car and brought him here. By then, he’d revived enough so that I didn’t have to carry him to the cell, but I had to support him. I was going to do the paperwork, but I got another call and had to go out immediately. I didn’t get back until after my shift was over, and since I’m filling in for Tommie today, I figured I’d do the paperwork before my shift started.”
Charlie said nothing, but his eyes never left Miles. “Anything else?” “No. Is this about him being hurt or something? Like I said, I didn’t touch him-he fell. He was blasted, Charlie. Absolutely hammered-” “No, it’s not about that.”
“Then what is it?”
“Let me make certain first-he didn’t say anything to you at all last night.” Miles thought for a moment. “Not really. He knew who I was, so he called me by name…” He trailed off, trying to recall if there was anything else. “Was he acting strange?”
“It didn’t seem like it… just sort of out of it, you know?”
“Huh…,” Charlie mumbled, and he seemed lost in thought again.
“C’mon, Charlie, tell me what’s going on.”
Charlie sighed. “He says he wants to talk to you.”
Miles waited, knowing there was more coming.
“Only to you. He says he has information.”
Miles knew Sims’s history as well. “And?”
“He won’t talk to me. But he says that it’s a matter of life and death.”
Miles stared at Sims through the bars, thinking the man looked almost on the verge of death. Like other chronic alcoholics, his skin was a sickly yellow. His hands were shaking, and sweat poured from his forehead. Sitting on the cot, he’d been absently scratching at his arms for hours, and Miles could see the red trails, tinged with blood, like streaks of lipstick applied by a child. Miles pulled up a chair and sat forward, his elbows propped on his knees.
“You wanted to talk to me?”
Sims turned at the sound of his voice. He hadn’t noticed that Miles had arrived, and it seemed to take a moment for him to focus. He wiped his upper lip and nodded.
“Deputy.”
Miles leaned forward. “What do you have to say, Sims? You’ve got my boss pretty nervous upstairs. He said you told him that you have information for me.” “Why’d you bring me in last night?” Sims asked. “I didn’t hurt nobody.”
“You were drunk, Sims. And you were driving. That’s a crime.”
“Then why haven’t you charged me yet?”
Miles debated his answer, trying to figure out where Sims was going with all this.
“I didn’t have the time,” he said honestly. “But according to the laws of this state, it doesn’t matter if I did it last night or not. And if that’s what you wanted to talk to me about, then I’ve things to do.”
Miles made a show of standing from his chair and took a step down the corridor.
“Wait,” Sims said.
Miles stopped and turned. “Yes?”
“I’ve got something important to tell you.”
“You told Charlie it was a matter of life and death.”
Sims wiped his lips again. “I can’t go back to jail. If you charge me, that’s where I’ll go. I’m on probation.”
“That’s the way it goes. You break the law, you go to jail. Didn’t you ever learn that?”
“I can’t go back,” he repeated.
“You should have thought of that last night.”
Miles turned again and Sims rose from the cot, a panicked look on his face.
“Don’t do this.”
Miles hesitated. “I’m sorry, Sims. I can’t help you.”
“You could let me go. I didn’t hurt nobody. And if I go back to jail, I’ll die for sure. I know that as sure as I know the sky is blue.” “I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. You can say you was mistaken, say I fell asleep at the wheel and that’s why I was swerving…”
Miles couldn’t help but feel a little pity for the man, but his duty was clear. “I’m sorry,” he said again, and he started down the corridor. Sims moved to the bars, grasping them.
“I got information…”
“Tell me later, once I get you upstairs to do the paperwork.”
“Wait!”
There was something in his tone that made Miles stop once more.
“Yes?”
Sims cleared his throat. The other three men who’d been in the adjoining cells had been brought upstairs, but he looked around to make absolutely certain he hadn’t overlooked anyone else. He motioned with his finger for Miles to come closer, but Miles stayed where he was and crossed his arms. “If I got important information, would you drop the charges?”
Miles suppressed a smile.Now we’re talking.
“That’s not up to just me, you know that. I’d have to talk to the district attorney.”
“No. Not that kind. You know how I work. I don’t testify, and I remain anonymous.”
Miles said nothing.