Page 29 of Bitter Truth
“What?” I ask.
His voice cracks as he tries to speak. Pressing his lips tight together, he lifts a finger to his face, to the spot where a bruise mars the skin under my eye, visible despite my best efforts to conceal it with makeup. This time, it’s his eyes that water. He looks away as his face turns red.
Clearing his throat, he whispers, “Did my boy do that? Is that why you’re here?”
“No.”
“No, he didn’t do it? Or no, that’s not why you’re here?”
“No to both,” I say.
“Thank God.” He releases a weary sigh, his eyes rising to the ceiling before his gaze returns to mine. “He get in trouble for dealing out some justice to whoever did do it, then?”
I shake my head.
“That’s a shame.”
“I got in the way of some meth head who decided to rob the pharmacy,” I explain, feeling the need to defend Jake’s lack of violence. “I doubt Sheriff Kingston’s going to track him down. I’ll just have to hope that life deals out some justice for me.”
“Is that what has you so upset? Knowing that guy’s still out there?”
Though it strikes me as kind of ridiculous that someone would think I’d be so upset because a man who merely hit me was still out on the streets, I suppose that would be enough for most people. People who weren’tme. People who didn’t have a sniper try to take them out on their own doorstep, or serial killers hold them hostage.
But as far as I’m aware, Jake’s dad doesn’t know that I’m a federal agent. Most of Gator Glade doesn’t, and I have no plans to fill them in. But I also can’t let Dylan think that’s what’s affecting me, no matter how much I might like to.
“No.”
Dylan’s frown deepens. “Darlin’, I want to help, but you’re gonna have to tell me what’s wrong.”
“I need to know what Jake said when he came to visit you.”
“What do you mean? He didn’t tell you?”
“He didn’t even tell me about the visit.”
“How’d you find out then?”
I don’t want to betray Jake’s trust, but I don’t think I have a choice. If he’s not going to tell me what’s going on, I have to find someone who will, even if my stomach feels like I’m riding a roller coaster after winning an oyster-eating contest at the thought of what I’m about to do. Trying to distract myself, I start rubbing at the edge of the whiskey bottle’s label with my thumb.
“One of his coworkers mentioned it to me. When he was telling me about some uncharacteristic behavior Jake’s been exhibiting.”
“And you think that’s because he came to see me?”
“No.”
A bit of the tension in his expression eases.
“He was acting fine until this week.”
“Until Janine’s hearing?”
“It’s hard to say, exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
“The night before, a sniper took a shot at me.”
Dylan covers his mouth with his hand as he curses. He looks ill as he stares at me. “I told him.”
