Page 9 of Kiss Marry Kill
When Deputy Sam and I arrived at the Pancake Palace, the place was in shambles. There were overturned tables and broken dishes on the floor. I was semi-relieved to see that of the five guys from Dallas, only one of them was actually causing a problem. A blond guy stood in the center of the mayhem, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. He held a steak knife, and he was yelling at the waitress.
His buddies looked bewildered and embarrassed.
“Todd,” one of them said, “what are youdoing?”
“She put poison in my drink!” he rasped. “I saw her do it.”
The waitress was young and obviously terrified. She shook her head, clutching her order pad to her chest. “I didn’t do anything to your drink. I… I’m not even the one who served you.”
I moved forward and gestured to her. “Katrina, come here. It’s okay.”
She bolted toward me and Sam, eyes bugged in terror. “I swear, I didn’t do anything, Sheriff.”
“I know.” I patted her bony shoulder, pushing her behind me. I didn’t really have time to comfort her because Todd was now focused on me.
“Hey,” snapped Todd. “Who are you?”
“I’m Sheriff Callum.” I spoke evenly, hoping I could get him to calm down without things escalating.
Todd waved the steak knife toward me. “Are you with them?”
“Them, who?”
He glanced around wildly, sweat beading on his forehead. “The people who’ve been following me. Are you one of them?”
“Dude,” wailed one of his friends, “no one is following you. We told you that like ten times.”
Todd licked his lips. “You could be one of them. How would I know?”
Another of his friends yelled, “You’re drunk, Todd. You always get paranoid when you’re drunk. I told you this would happen, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“Shut up,” yelled Todd, shaking his head. “I’m… I’m the only one who can save us.”
“Save us from what?” that same friend asked. “You’re the only one who’s threatening people.”
“What’s he on?” I asked his friends.
One of them responded, “He’s been taking lithium for depression. He always gets like this when he gets wasted. He thinks the CIA is chasing him, man. He just loses his shit when he drinks too much.”
“Then why did you let him drink too much?” Deputy Sam asked.
Shrugging, the guy said, “We were having fun.”
“Uh, right.” Deputy Sam shook his head in disgust.
My main concern was getting the knife away from Todd. He wasn’t a big guy, so I knew I could probably handle him in a fight. But the knife was a problem. “Todd, how about you put the knife down and we just talk?” I said quietly. “I’m sure you don’t want to hurt anyone, right?”
“I do if they’re trying to hurt me,” he mumbled.
“No one is going to hurt you.” I took a step toward him. “I promise you.”
“Do you? But see, for all I know, you’re a fake cop.”
“I’m not fake.” I smiled reassuringly. “You can see my badge, right?”
“You could have got that on eBay.”
“No. I’m the real deal. Put the knife down, kid.”
