Free Truth and Consequences by Linda Winfree Page B

“on scene” call to dispatch came just four seconds before Tick reported seeing both units.
    “Well, that was really helpful.” Altee snapped off the tape player.
    “He was telling the truth about when he arrived.”
    Eyes narrowed and lips thinned, Altee looked at her. “You really want to believe this guy, don’t you?”
    Kathleen rose and paced to the window. She leaned against the sill, her fingers clutching it until her knuckles ached. “If he’s telling the truth about that, he could be telling the truth about what he saw.”
    Altee’s hands fluttered like angry birds. “Do you hear yourself? These guys left a dead snake in your storm door. That’s a threat, Kath! And you’re giving him the benefit of the doubt.”
    Everything her partner said made sense and Kathleen could imagine herself saying the same things if their positions were reversed. In her mind, though, she kept hearing Jason swearing he wasn’t involved in the snake incident, that he hadn’t seen anything the day the boys died. She remembered his enthusiasm as he talked about his time in the army, his quick grin, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.
    Altee was right.
    She wanted to believe in him.
    He was a Haynes County boy and she wanted to believe him so badly she was looking for ways to back up his story.
    Hell, she was using a case to get close to him.
    What did that say about her?
    “Kathleen?”
    She closed her eyes briefly, then looked at the woman who’d been closer than any sister ever could be. A frown carved a deep furrow between Altee’s brows. Kathleen blew out a long, shaky breath.
    Tears pushed up in her throat and she blinked. “This conversation stays between us.”
    “Of course.”
    “Girl talk, Altee, not cop talk.”
    “Just spit it out.”
    “I don’t want him to be involved in this. I want to believe him. God, Altee, I don’t know what to do.”
    “You’ve got to stay away from him. I don’t want to see this blow up in your face, and the whole situation is one of those nasty little things that tend to do that. He’s a potential suspect and you’re a lead agent.”
    Kathleen turned away, staring out the window. In the parking lot, a handful of tiny birds fluttered along the ground. In her gut, she knew Altee was right. Jason Harding was trouble waiting to happen. The best thing to do was avoid brewing trouble and cancel her dinner invitation. The right thing to do.
    Then why did her chest ache at the mere thought of not seeing him again?
    * * *
    Whistling an off-tune version of “Ring of Fire”, Jason jogged up the steps of the sheriff’s department. Thanks to a last-minute call, his shift had run an hour over, but he found himself grateful. Only an hour until he was supposed to be at Kathleen’s—time to clock out, run home to shower and hotfoot it over to her place.
    He felt like a seventeen-year-old with a hot date and no matter how many times he told himself this was business, part of his job and not a real date, it did nothing to kill his excitement.
    For once, quiet lay over the squad room. Even the television was turned off. Jason moved through his end-of-shift routine with rapid efficiency. He remembered the wild tangle of his mother’s tiny rose garden at the trailer. A couple of the overgrown plants bloomed, spilling creamy pink and vibrant red buds on the too-high grass. Maybe he’d cut some of those, stick them in one of the cheap milk-glass vases under the sink. Something to keep him from showing up at Kathleen’s door empty-handed.
    As he walked to the dispatch area to clock out, pink message slips fluttered on the window separating the small office from the squad room.
    Berta, the second-shift dispatcher, waved toward the glass. “You got messages, Harding.”
    “Yeah?”
    Her smirk set the nerves off in his gut. These were not good messages.
    The first bore Jim Ed’s distinctive scrawl. Meet me at the rec center ball field.
    The second heaved his stomach straight to his