Page 22 of One Cry Too Loud
“That’s about the size of it, handsome,” she said. “Seems like an easy choice to me.”
“You just killed someone, Michelle,” I said sternly. “Just now.”
“He was trying to kill you. He wasgoingto kill you,” she shot back. “Isn’t that like you said before? Isn’t that self defense?” She swallowed hard. “What am I doing? You’re a boyscout. You’re never going to help me, but your friend might.” Michelle trained the gun on my head. “Once she sees what I do to you.”
The breath caught in my throat, and I heard a shot. I braced, expecting to breathe my last at any moment. Instead, I watched Michelle stumbled backward, holding her shoulder.
“Woohoo!” A voice shouted. I turned to find Miller standing in front of his store, a gun in his hand. “That’ll teach you to mess with the second line of defense!”
I turned back only to find that Michelle was gone. She had run to, and disappeared into, the swamp.
CHAPTER 15
“Idon’t know why you’re just standing there. You need to move. All of you!” Tag said for what felt like the fifteenth time in the last twenty minutes. It had been only twice that long since Michelle disappeared into the woods after killing her archer boyfriend and very nearly killing me. We sat in the destruction the archer had made in Miller’s Coffee and Whiskey Sling and waited for the police to arrive. “Why is no one listening to me?”
“Is that not something you’re used to?” Holly asked, swishing a bit of whiskey in a glass and looking down at the dark liquid. “I can’t imagine anyone anywhere, New Orleans or otherwise, would profit too much from listening to you.”
I had known Holly for a while now. Still, I’m not sure I had seen her drink more than once or twice, and never in the daytime. Still, I understood it. This was a difficult situation for all of us, but it was especially difficult for her. Her daughter was missing, a person she once loved seemed responsible, and the darkest moments of her life were laid bare and on display for the people she respected the most to inspect. It would have made anyone feel uncomfortable, and that was before she had arrows flying at her head.
For his part, Miller came around and filled the glass back up. You would have thought the old man would have been upset with us. After all, we’d come in and caused untold amounts of damage to his place of business. We’d put his life in danger and almost certainly forced him to close what was very likely his only source of income for an extended period of time. He wasn’t upset though. He practically danced around us as he filled his drinks and waited for the police to show up.
“What in the British hell is that supposed to mean?” Tag asked, glaring at Holly with arms folded over his chest. He might have been old enough to drink now, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was tapping his foot loudly against the wooden floor as a coffee sat untouched beside him.
“It means your carelessness almost killed us all,” Holly said. Like the previous statements, she didn’t sound upset. That would have taken too much vigor. Instead, her tone was low, almost defeated. Her phrase came out nearly absentminded, as though the fact that Tag should feel bad and responsible was something of an afterthought.
For Tag, that was not the case.
“I didn’t do that,” he shot back in a decidedly more vigorous tone. “The phone isn’t the reason they found us.”
“Then what is?” Holly scoffed, still low, still quiet.
“I don’t know, but it’s not that,” Tag replied.
“I don’t know much about computers or even phones for that matter,” Miller said as he moved around the table, checking to make sure we had everything we needed. “Heck, the only phone I’ve got still plugs up into the wall. I do know one thing. I know that it’s quite a bit harder to grow from our mistakes if we don’t admit we made them.”
“I didn’t make a mistake, Grandpa,” Tag groaned. “This isn’t my fault. So, since you already admitted to not understanding what we’re talking about, why don’t you stay out of it?”
“You will not speak to him like that,” I said without missing a beat. “This man saved my life. He saved your lives too. Beyond that, he opened his door to us and continues to allow that door to be open after we’ve cost him what appears to be a lot in damages. You owe him, and even if you didn’t, he’s a war vet and someone who is decades your senior. Youwillshow him the respect he’s earned.”
Tag didn’t answer. He just glared at me in silence.
“That’s not going to be enough,” I warned. “Apologize.”
“I don’t work for you,” Tag said.
“Decency isn’t a job. Apologize,” I repeated.
A moment of silence passed. Then, with his eyes sliding over to MIller, Tag muttered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“It’s alright,” Miller said, shaking his head and waving it off. “I’ve got a couple of grandkids who would make what you said look like a Christmas card.” He looked over at me. “And don’t worry about the damage. Your boss has more than made up for it.”
“I can be generous when I want to be,” Nate said, walking out of the restroom and into earshot. “And after what you did, Mr. Miller, you deserve that generosity."
“I don’t know about deserving it, but I certainly do appreciate it,” the old man said. “Now I can fix this place up and make it what it ought to be, what my grandfather wanted it to be when he put it up.” He chuckled. “Or I could just say to heck with it, retire, buy an rv and take my wife anywhere she wants to go.”
“Those are good choices to have, sir,” I said, nodding at the man as he turned and walked into the back room.
“I’m not wrong, though. You need to leave,” Tag said. His arms were still folded and his face was still sour. “The woman who shot at you, Michelle, she could be in those woods. She could come back at any moment.”
