Free Swerve by Michelle McGriff Page B

woman…”
    â€œWhat woman, Romee?” he asked, rubbing a tumbler dry. “You keep saying that.”
    â€œWhat woman? Mike, what…?” Romia sighed and shook her head in disbelief of his comment. “The woman who was screaming bloody murder and accusing me of the same. Surely, your memory can’t be that short,” Romia whispered, leaning in close to his face.
    â€œOh, that woman,” Mike said, chuckling nervously, redrying the same tumbler as if his mind and actions were no longer working as one. “Romia, I’ve never seen her before. I noticed her when she came in. She was new. I watched her for a while, ya know, just making sure she wasn’t a hooker or anything like that. Can’t have that kind of trash in here stirring up trouble. Anyway, I watched her and it was like she was waiting for somebody, okay? Then you came in and all that ruckus with Shoni and Kel and then boom. I look up; everybody is outside and there’s been a shooting.”
    â€œDid you hear a shot? Did the woman come back in?”
    â€œI swear. She didn’t come back in. She never came back in. By the time I got everybody outta here, she was not one of them.”
    â€œWhere did she go?”
    Mike splayed his fingers in the air as if imitating a mist dissipating. “It was like a ghost. She was gone.”
    â€œDamn!” Romia spat. Mike was a little taken aback by her language. Romia wasn’t one to curse.
    â€œHow is Keliegh? He got carted off so fast I figured he was going to jail too.”
    â€œNothing happened to him…I guess.”
    â€œGood. Would hate to see his career all messed up over…” Mike paused. Looking Romia straight in the eyes, he asked, “Did you shoot that guy, Romee? I mean, everybody is saying you did. That IA guy said you did. He called you a swerve.”
    â€œSwerve? What is that?”
    â€œLike a disgruntled postal worker, I guess. You know, a cop who finally snaps. You never heard the term? I never heard the term.”
    â€œNever needed to know the term, and no, I haven’t snapped.” Romia felt her blood beginning to boil. This was the second time she’d heard her mental state being questioned. Tommy had said something about it last night and now Mike was inquiring. Was everyone thinking she was crazy? She sure was starting to feel that way. Crazy.
    â€œRomia, everybody knows your temper. Your jacket got messed up with that little Jack Daniels and you…you got out of control and shot that guy…for nothing. It was your gun that killed him, I heard,” Mike added, looking around. “And now you’re on the lam. And, actually, I think you need to leave here before you bring the heat on me for real. That Maxwell guy said he’d have my license if I even ‘thought out loud’ about last night, let alone talk about it with anybody.”
    â€œMike, come on, you know I didn’t shoot that guy. For what. Bumping me—”
    â€œYeah, just like that. He got booze on that fancy jacket of yours and you lost it.”
    Smacking her lips, she readied her mouth to deny it, but then surrendered without a fight. “Yeah, well. Did you know him?”
    â€œNo. Just like that woman. Had never seen either of them before.”
    â€œDang, Mike, do better than that, gimmie something.”
    â€œI can’t. That guy talked to me, Romia. I can’t talk to anybody about anything. He’ll pull my liquor license and—”
    â€œWhat guy?”
    â€œThe IA guy, Max…”
    â€œMaxwell something. Yeah, been hearing that name a lot. Mike, you know everybody in this precinct and beyond. Who is that guy? Keliegh doesn’t know him. I don’t know him.”
    â€œNever seen him before either, but he’s good—new, I guess. But whatever he is, he got this place cleaned up in record time. Got that body outta here, questioned everybody, and, well…took