Mercy Kill_ A Mystery - Lori Armstrong [29]
“Downhill?” he repeated. “Tell me everything that happened after I left.”
I laid it out exactly as I remembered it.
A lull filled the air. John-John’s fingers tapped out the passing seconds on the steering wheel. When he finally looked at me, he was far calmer than I’d expected. “Let’s go in and get this over with.”
“You’re coming with me?”
“Of course.” His gaze dropped to my chest, and he rolled his eyes. “Really, Mercy? A FOLSOM PRISON BLUES T-shirt?”
I smiled. “Just be happy I didn’t wear my I SHOT THE SHERIFF T-shirt.”
Inside the reception area, a young chickie, who’d look more comfortable in a cheerleading uniform than in a county uniform, manned the receptionist’s desk. Blue eyes appraised us coolly. “The entrance to the jail is around back and down the stairs. But visiting hours don’t start until three o’clock.”
This blond bimbo saw an Indian guy and automatically referred him to the jail? I braced my hands on her desk blotter and got right in her face. “I’m here to see Sheriff Dawson.”
“And you are?”
“Mercy Gunderson. He’s expecting me.”
Her smooth brow wrinkled as if she should recognize the name. “Have a seat. I’ll buzz the sheriff.”
But I was feeling ornery and stayed put during her brief phone call. Poor little twig. Made her nervous to have me looming over her.
“Like I said, if you’ll take a seat—”
“I’m fine right here.”
Her berry-colored lips pursed, and she buzzed the sheriff again.
Worked like a charm. She shooed us down the hallway to Dawson’s office. I wouldn’t have put it past her to spray the reception area with Lysol after we left.
As acting sheriff, Dawson had taken over my father’s office. I’d been in here before; heck, I’d been arrested in here before. But it was still disquieting not to see the mounted antlers for the nine-point buck my dad had shot. Or the row of family pictures. Or the expert marksmanship award certificates adorning the south wall. Certificates that’d all been mine.
Dawson stood and held his hand across the desk to John-John. “Thanks for coming, John-John.”
“No problem, Sheriff.”
He didn’t offer me his hand, just a curt, “Miz Gunderson.”
I managed not to roll my eyes at his formality. But he wasn’t aware John-John knew about our playing slap and tickle; I felt a little smug in the secret.
We settled in the chairs opposite the desk. John-John spoke first. “I know it’s been less than twelve hours since Mercy discovered the body, but do you have any new information?”
“Just our suspicions from last night, which haven’t changed.”
“What suspicions?” I asked.
“We suspect it was a robbery gone wrong.”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you fucking serious?”
John-John kicked my foot to shush me.
“Yes. His wallet was gone, and preliminary tests indicate the fatal injuries were consistent with a robbery.”
“A robbery. Out in the middle of nowhere? Jesus. Why didn’t the would-be robbers try to rob Clementine’s? There’s a helluva lot more cash inside the bar than trying to roll customers in the parking lot for a few bucks. And I usually close up by myself, which isn’t exactly a secret either. I can’t believe—”
“Mercy,” John-John cautioned. “Listen.”
Dawson looked at me. “The point is, a list of who was in the bar last night, from all Clementine’s employees, would help us narrow down the possible suspects.”
I started to speak, but John-John beat me to the punch. “Absolutely, Sheriff. I was there for a good portion of the night, so I’ll compile a list. Winona’s and Mercy’s lists will be more complete since they both worked a full shift.”
Again Dawson’s gaze pinned me. “Are you willing to cooperate, Miz Gunderson?”
I flashed my teeth at him. “Absolutely, Sheriff.”
That shocked him; he’d expected me to resist. My only reason for insubordination last night? It was John-John’s call whether we violated our customers’ privacy, not mine. I, probably more than anyone, wanted to see that whoever killed J-Hawk was caught.
“Good to hear.” He unearthed a small notebook and flipped to a clean page. “Can you tell me what happened last night? From the start of your shift up until