The Outkast Read Free Page B

But he held his peace, letting her pour her mind out.
    “ So, they say my little Rob has murdered a man—he’s done a terrible harm. And what will be his penalty?” Holly shoved to the edge of her seat, stretching her hand towards the Sheriff, as if requesting a response in form of a handout. Then, she retracted it. “Oh, don’t even bother telling me,” she said. “I know exactly what his penalty will be. He’ll be taken away from me and locked up in a teen penitentiary, waiting till the time is ripe for him to feel the vicious stings of the law.”
    Brian watched her vent.
    “ Isn’t that so, Sheriff?”
    “ There’s not a thing as teen penitentiary, Mrs. Smallwood,” he said at last. “And I want you to know that this—”
    “ There isn’t such a thing?” Holly said with wide eyes.
    “ Well, there’re juvenile detention centers all across the country, if that’s what you’re—”
    “ Teen penitentiary, juvenile detention—where does the difference lie? In the names?” She chuckled briefly, and then collapsed on the table, her head literally bobbing up and down as she wept.
    Brian said, “Holly, are you okay?” and realized immediately how dumb he sounded.
    “ No, I’m not okay,” Holly said in a muffled voice, sniffling. “How on earth can I be when the whole world has chosen to come crashing on me?”
    Grabbing a sheaf of tissue (he was doing a good job distributing tissue today), Brian walked around the desk and handed it to her. He squeezed her shoulder gently, feeling the bones, hoping he could sooth her, that he could give her an unspoken assurance that, the situation—not he—was responsible for her being shoved into this unpleasant corner.
    He walked back to his seat.
    When Brian had ascertained her eyes were clear enough to focus on him, he said, “I want you to know that this has nothing to do with what anybody’s saying.”
    “ You stated when all is said and done, didn’t you?”
    “ Yes, I did. What’s your point?”
    “ To me, it’s already done. Decisions have been made. We’re just footling around here, killing time.”
    “ Not the way you look at it. I called you in to ask you a few questions that might help both of us as this case progresses.”
    “ Sheriff Stack, I think I have my own question,” Holly said, wiping off the residual snot from her nose. “What actually made you believe Rob killed Mr. Carter?”
    Brian shook his head. “It’s not about what made me believe Rob did anything. The question is more like, what could make anyone believe that Rob didn’t do it? What could convince the Coroner’s Office, the townspeople, the Sheriff’s Department that he didn’t do it? In fact, what could convince you —besides being your son—that he didn’t commit the crime he’s been suspected of?”
    Holly’s jaw dropped as she listened to the Sheriff.
    “ And I can see what’s going through your mind right now. Yeah, you’re sitting down there and thinking, Oh, I was right about him, after all. He’s made up his mind together with the people. They’re coming to get my son.
    “ But you know what? I didn’t call you in to tell you how badly I want your son to be arrested. I called you in to let you know that the odds are stacked against him regardless of my own sentiment. Really stacked against him. The fact that he was the only one in the office at the time of Mr. Carter’s death, the bloody knife found in his hand, the hair. You see, all of these things—and even more—point in the direction of accusation.”
    “ They got his hair at the scene, too?”
    “ There were blood-soaked strands of hair—red hair—found at one corner of the toilet where he was sitting, as well as on the desk and the office floor. The Office of the Coroner made an educated guess the strands came from his hair.”
    “ Because he’s a redhead.” Holly chuckled. “They could have been from anyone’s hair. And you know that, Sheriff, don’t you?”
    “