Free Time to Die by John Gilstrap Page B

of the pool room. “I didn’t have anything to do with that shooting.”
    “I heard that you had words with Chas Delphin a couple of days ago,” Darla said.
    Peter’s eyes narrowed as he stewed on that. “Okay. But it was a couple of weeks, not days. He busted my balls for buying some beer without an ID. That’s not exactly murder.”
    “What about the candy you stole?”
    Peter looked at her as if she were crazy. “They were cupcakes. And I didn’t steal them. I tried to steal them. Dudley Do-Right behind the counter wouldn’t let me.”
    “That’s not exactly respectful for the dead, Peter,” Carter offered.
    Peter laughed. “That a crime in New York, Counselor? Chas Delphin was a pansy-assed dickhead. I didn’t respect him in life. Why the hell would I respect him after he’s dead?”
    Carter didn’t know what to make of the aggression, and judging from her scowl, neither did the deputy.
    Peter caught the look. “What, you want me to lie to you? I’m not a violent guy. Why the hell would I go there and shoot him today? That doesn’t make sense.”
    “Because you didn’t go in there to kill him,” Carter said. “Because you didn’t even think the gun was loaded. You just wanted to scare Chas and then you got tackled from behind and the gun went off.”
    Peter recoiled. “Is that what happened in there?”
    “Where were you, exactly, at around two this afternoon?” Darla asked.
    “Right here. I been here all day. Couldn’t buy a break on the table till just before you guys got here.”
    “Will these people testify to that?” Carter asked.
    Peter snorted a laugh. “You kidding? These guys are my friends. They’ll tell you I was in Tahiti if I ask them to.” When he saw that no one else was smiling, he dialed it down. “Yeah, sure. They’ll vouch for me.” He turned to Carter again. “You think the gun was unloaded?”
    “I didn’t say that. I said I think you thought it was unloaded.”
    “I don’t even own a gun.” The magnitude of the problem Peter faced was dawning on him, and there was a new hint of desperation in his voice. “You can’t possibly think I did this,” he said.
    “Do you own a red baseball jersey?” Carter asked.
    “No.”
    “How about a red T-shirt?”
    Peter started to deny, but then opted for honesty. “Yes,” he said. “And I own a blue one, two green ones, and God knows how many white ones.”
    “We’re talking about an Essex High School jersey, probably,” Darla prompted.
    “What, like the ones Hines wears? Hell, no.”
    “Like the ones half this county wears,” Darla corrected. “And why not?”
    Peter’s scowl deepened. “You mean because of all my rah-rah school spirit?” His tone dripped sarcasm. “I wouldn’t let any part of that shithole school touch my body.”
    “Is that a fact?” Darla said. She stood from her chair and pulled a set of handcuffs from the pouch on her belt. “I need you to come along with me.”
    Peter couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re arresting me?” Carter was a little stunned himself.
    “No, I’m taking you into custody as a material witness.”
    “To what ?” Peter protested. “I told you that I had nothing to do with that murder. You’ve got no evidence.”
    “I don’t need evidence to treat you as a witness,” Darla said. “Please put your hands behind your back.”
    Carter found himself surprised that Peter did as he was told. Apparently, the mouth worked independently from his spirit. “Hey, Mr. Lawyer, can she do this?”
    Carter shrugged. “If she considers you to be a material witness, and she believes that you constitute a flight risk, then yeah, she can.”
    The panic didn’t enter the young man’s eyes until the bracelets ratcheted closed, but when it came, it came in a rush. “I didn’t kill anybody,” he protested. It was hard to tell, but he might have been crying. “Honest to God, I wasn’t anywhere near that store today.” He struggled, and Darla pulled