Cop Town Read Free Page A

the radio.
    “Don’t,” Delia stopped her. “The news can’t tell us anything except what we already know.”
    “What do we know?”
    “Drop it, Margaret.” Delia tapped ash into her cupped hand. “Jimmy’s safe. That’s all that matters. And you be nice to him when he gets here.”
    “Of course I—”
    A car door slammed in the driveway. The windowpanes shook from the sound. Maggie held her breath because it was easier than breathing. Part of her hoped it was their neighbor coming home from work. But then shoes scuffed across the carport, up the back stairs. The kitchen door opened, but didn’t close.
    She knew it was her uncle Terry before she saw him. He never shut the back door. The kitchen was a non-room to him, one of those things women needed that men didn’t want to know about, like sanitary napkins and romance novels.
    Though the day had barely started, Terry Lawson reeked of alcohol. Maggie could smell it from across the room. He swayed as he stood in the dining room doorway. He was wearing his police sergeant’s uniform, but the shirt was unbuttoned, showing his white undershirt. Tufts of hair stuck up from the collar. He looked like he’d slept in his car with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s trapped between his knees. Which was probably where he was when he heard about Don Wesley on his radio.
    Delia said, “Sit down. You look dead on your feet.”
    Terry rubbed his jaw as he looked at his niece and sister-in-law. “Jimmy’s on his way. Mack and Bud are looking after him.”
    “Is he all right?” Maggie asked.
    “Of course he’s all right. Don’t get hysterical.”
    Suddenly, Maggie felt the urge to get hysterical. “You should’ve called me.”
    “For what?”
    Maggie was astounded. Never mind that Jimmy was her brother and Don Wesley was his friend. She was a cop, too. You went to the hospital when another cop was there. You gave blood. You waited for news. You comforted the family. All of this was part of the job. “I should’ve been there.”
    “For what?” he repeated. “The nurses fetched us coffee. All you’d do is get in the way.” He nodded at Delia. “I could use a cup, by the way.”
    She walked back into the kitchen.
    Maggie sat down. She was still reeling from the news. She hated that Terry was the only way she was going to get answers. “How did it happen?”
    “Same way it always happens.” Terry dropped into the chair at the head of the table. “Some nigger shot him.”
    “Was it the Shooter?”
    “Shooter.” He grunted. “Stop talking out of your ass.”
    “Uncle Terry!” Lilly ran into the room. She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. She always acted a few years younger with Terry.
    Maggie told her, “Jimmy’s fine, but Don Wesley was killed this morning.”
    Terry patted Lilly’s arm. He gave Maggie a sharp look. “Me and the boys’ll string up the bastard. Don’t you worry.”
    “Nobody’s worried.” Delia came back with Terry’s coffee. She put the mug on the table and handed him the newspaper. “Cal and the others are all right?”
    “Sure they are. Everybody’s fine.” Terry snapped open the newspaper. The Atlanta Constitution had obviously been put to bed before Don Wesley’s murder. The main story was about structural changes the new black mayor was making at city hall.
    Maggie said, “Don makes five victims so far.”
    “Maggie.” Delia headed toward the kitchen again. “Don’t bother your uncle.”
    She pretended not to hear the warning. “It’s the Shooter.”
    Terry shook his head.
    “They were obviously ambushed. It has to be—”
    “Eat your breakfast,” he said. “You want a ride to work, you need to be ready to go when I am.”
    Lilly still had one arm draped around Terry’s shoulders. Her voice sounded impossibly small when she asked, “Is everybody gonna be all right, Uncle Terry?”
    “This is still a cop town, sweetheart. The monkeys ain’t runnin’ the zoo.” He patted her bottom. “Come