Free Goody Goody Gunshots by SAMMI CARTER Page A

me back to the bench to count towels.”
    “And why were you there so late?”
    A couple of people slowed to look into the shop’s windows. I waited until they’d walked on again to answer. It was the first time in a long time that I’d actively willed customers away from the store, and that made me even angrier.
    “I was there,” I snarled, “because I saw someone messing around with his truck. At first I thought it was Hendrix, but when I got closer, I realized the guy was too short, and it couldn’t have been him. I shouted at him, and he ran away. That’s when I realized that it was the same man I almost hit the other night—the man with the limp.”
    Both of Jawarski’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You’re sure it was the same man?”
    I nodded, torn between feeling contrite and being pissed as hell. “I probably should have called and told you—and if I’d had any idea I’d need to prove my innocence, I would have—but how was I supposed to know that jerk would accuse me of vandalizing his truck?”
    “Let me get this straight. You saw the guy with the limp at the rec center last night. The one you thought you hit. The one you thought had been shot.”
    “Unless there are suddenly two men with the same limp skulking around Paradise in the middle of the night.”
    “And you’re saying he’s the one who vandalized the truck?”
    “I don’t know for sure,” I admitted, “but he was doing something, and when he ran away he dropped a long piece of metal.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “Because I heard it hit the pavement. I don’t know what it was, but he could have been using it on Kerry’s truck.”
    Scowling, Jawarski pulled out the notebook he always kept in his shirt pocket. “Hendrix doesn’t say anything about seeing a man with a limp.”
    “That’s because he was long gone before Kerry ever came outside.”
    “So nobody saw him but you?”
    I smiled and shook my head. “Brody and Caleb were with me. They not only saw the man with the limp, they also saw me pick up the metal piece he dropped.”
    Jawarski looked surprised at that. “You have it?”
    “Of course I have it. After I saw what Kerry’s truck looked like, I thought it might be some kind of evidence. It’s in the back of the Jetta.”
    He gave me an atta-girl smile that pleased me a whole lot more than I wanted it to. “Did you happen to see where the guy ran off to?”
    “I saw him get into a dark-colored SUV, but I couldn’t get close enough to get the license number. I have no idea who was driving, and I didn’t see where they went.”
    “Did the boys see the car, too?”
    “Brody did. I’m not sure about Caleb.”
    Jawarski nodded, made a note, and slipped the notebook into his pocket again.
    “You’re not going to talk to them, are you?” I asked.
    “Why not? If they corroborate what you’ve told me, Hendrix will have to back off.”
    “Yeah, and Elizabeth will pull the boys off the team. You know how protective she is. She’s already talking about keeping them home, but the boys will be devastated if she does. Please don’t drag them into this.”
    Jawarski looked at me for a moment, then shook his head. “If you say so, but I doubt Hendrix is going to believe that you’re innocent just because you say so.”
    “I’ll take my chances.”
    “Fine,” he said with an exasperated shake of his head. “You want to show me that metal strip?”
    He didn’t agree with my decision, but I didn’t care. With Brody working his way toward the starting lineup and Caleb trying to prove he wasn’t a sissy, getting yanked off the team by a concerned mother was the last thing either of them needed.
    The door opened, admitting two women into the shop, and I seized the opportunity to cut our conversation short. “Love to,” I said, “but it looks like I’m going to have to work.” I ducked into the kitchen, grabbed my keys, and tossed them to Jawarski. “I didn’t have anything to pick it up with, but