Page 8 of Badges
“So—” He drops a folder down with a slap. “—what brings you from Texas?” A subtle scent of sandalwood wafts in with him.
I was told if I did get caught to just keep my mouth shut.
So I shrug.
His jaw tics under the copper-colored whiskers as he straddles the heavy steel chair opposite me and flips open the pages.
He glances down, then fixes me in his caramel stare. “No priors besides some shitty driving. That’s a big leap from a little speeding to killing cows.”
“What?” I blurt. “I didn’t—” I bite hard on my tongue, stopping anything further.
He’s gotta be lying.
With two thick fingers, he flips a glossy picture around and slides it towards me.
A black and white cow with blood coming from its mouth.
“Gross. I didn’t do that.” Just the sight of it makes bile rise into the back of my throat.
But when he pushes the next photo over, the burn of acid nearly turns into vomit.
This image is a wider angle showing the bags of feed with small spikes mixed in littering the ground.
I know those sacks.
Fuck.
“That’s not right,” I whisper. I’d have never done that.
“You are one-hundred percent correct. You’re a sick individual for doing that.” His finger pounds on the nose of the dead animal with a resounding thump.
It wasn’t supposed to kill them.
I was told it just had a med in it that would make their milk dry up. Not cut them from the inside out.
“I think I’m gonna puke.” I can’t look at the blood anymore. Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn my head, burying my face against the inside of my elbow.
“How could you not know what you were doing to them?” His voice drops into a gentler tone.
Shaking my head, I don’t even want to meet his piercing gaze.
If the truth gets out, my sister could die…or worse.
“Elena,” he rumbles from deep in his chest. “What aren’t you telling me?”
I don’t know what to do.
Rising away from my arm, I try to find that ribbon of steel my mom always said I carried. Meeting his stare, I try to exude as much confidence as possible.
“I can’t tell you. It isn’t worth the consequences.” I’d die to keep Cynthia safe.
The crow’s feet at his temples tighten as he squints at me. “You know that crap you poured in the troughs? It causes miscarriages. You almost caused the owner of the dairy to lose her baby, not to mention the calves that died prematurely. You’re looking at a series of felonies.”
Ice runs through my veins.
None of that was supposed to happen.
Everything was a lie. All I know was that I had to plant an explosive, and I made damn sure that there wasn’t anyone nearby.
