Free Before The Killing Starts (Dixie Killer Blues Book 1) by Harper James Page B

and see your stupid face looking up at
me. Probably with that stupid grin still on your face.'
    Evan knew he meant it
too. Knew he honestly believed it was going to happen some day. 'You don't need
to worry about me.'
    Guillory knew there was
no point wasting any more breath on that subject. 'Anyway, would these guys
happen to own the car we're talking about?'
    'Uh huh. No flies on
you.'
    There was an
exasperated, why do I even bother? sigh. 'Why do you want to find them?
You like being pistol whipped?'
    Evan thought about
telling Guillory the real, underlying reason that was driving him. Guillory
knew his history after all, knew all about Sarah. He just didn't want to get
into it over the phone. He also didn't want him to tell him not to be so
gullible.
    'I'll let you know right
after you finish telling me why you're not at work.'
    'Like you taxpayers pay
me to be, you mean?'
    'Well, I wasn't going to
mention it . . .'
    They carried on the
inane banter for a while longer before Guillory ended the call, promising to
get back to him as soon as possible.

 
     
    Chapter 17
     
    Jackson sat in the warden's office and
stared at a dirty stain on the wall while the warden droned on. Blah, blah,
blah, pom tiddly pom . He cocked his head and tried to work out what it was.
And why hadn't it been cleaned off? Another five minutes of this and he'd be
out. After two years he could wait a few more minutes. Behind the warden, a
clock ticked noisily, its hands jerking erratically like a cockroach that some
small boy had pulled most of the legs off. Then it clicked. That's what it was—the
warden had squashed a cockroach or a water beetle against the wall. Next to
that there was a rectangular outline where something had been tacked to the
wall. Jackson just knew it was one of those cheesy, motivational posters with a
bear or an eagle (never a cockroach) that said something like Believe in
Yourself: Because the rest of us think you're an idiot or perhaps Ambition:
The journey of a thousand miles sometimes ends very, very badly . He
stretched his neck out and glanced at the clock again. He didn't think he'd be
able to wear a wristwatch or hang a clock on the wall ever again.
    All the usual platitudes
washed over his head in the warden's soft, reassuring voice, the calm, measured
tones designed for talking at people of subpar intellect. The warden suddenly
stopped talking and leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his desk, palms
pressed together, like he was about to pray but his arthritic knees wouldn't
let him kneel. Jackson, aware of the sudden silence in the room and not sure if
he'd been asked a question, looked up into his earnest face. It was the sort of
face you wanted to punch, see if you could get rid of that patronizing smugness
that said I get to go home every night . Yeah, right, but having seen a
photo of the warden and his wife at a charity ball, Jackson thought he'd take
his chances in the shower block. Besides, today he was the one who got to go
home. Wherever that was.
    'Look LaBarre, I'm not
stupid,' the warden said. 'I realize you're not the usual, run of the mill
prisoner we get in here.'
    Jackson acknowledged the statement with a
small shrug. Did the guy really think he was about to explain everything now,
five minutes before he walked out the door forever?
    'The other prisoners
knew it too,' the warden said. Jackson sure as hell couldn't deny that. 'What
you went through in here . . .' The warden trailed off and shook his head
sadly. 'I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.'
    Jackson nodded in agreement but didn't
really see what he could add. Maybe something like what doesn't kill you
makes you stronger seeing as platitudes seemed to be the order of the day,
or maybe something a little more pithy, but he couldn't think what.
    'I don't know what
really went on here—obviously access to that information is above my pay
grade.' He gave Jackson a conspiratorial smile. A we're all running around
in the dark together sort of