Page 61 of What She Saw
“Everyone was rocking out and having a great time. Crazy success, wasn’t it?”
Police reports would start rolling in today. He almost didn’t want to return to the office. Colton had better have a good attorney. “And your cleanup crews?”
“On the way, Sheriff. They radioed me about fifteen minutes ago.” Behind him, a truck pulled a white trailer toward the fire road that snaked up the back side of the property.
“Do you have any reported injuries?” Taggart asked.
“Just the usual at the first aid tent. That’s all been shut down, and those people have been shuttled off the mountain. Relax, Sheriff, the festival went off without a hitch.”
Taggart shook his head. “You’ve destroyed the field.”
“The rain was heavier than I expected. Christ, the mud was incredible, wasn’t it?”
Taggart glanced at his own coated boots. His uniform was wet and splashed with muck. “Make sure you answer your phone if I call. It’ll be a miracle if there are no police reports.”
“Hey, I’m easy to find.”
If Taggart found a reason to arrest the man, he’d do it. Festival complaints would be snowballing soon. And given Colton’s background, he was a flight risk.
“Sheriff?”
He turned. An exhausted Deputy Paxton strode toward him. Dark stubble covered his chin.
“We have a problem,” Paxton said.
“What?”
“A girl. In the tent city. She’s beat up pretty good. I’ve cuffed her boyfriend to a tree and called the medics.”
Taggart’s jaw tightened. He glared at Colton. “Like I said, don’t go far.”
“I’m at your disposal.”
Taggart followed Paxton through the sloppy, sucking mire. Most of the tent city was gone. The remaining abandoned shelters reminded him of deflated, crumpled balloons.
They arrived at a blue tent at the edge of the woods. The boyfriend was handcuffed to a tree. He wore no shirt, and a scruffy beard dustedhis chin. His jeans were coated with dried, cracked mud. His feet were bare.
“Would you tell Barney Fife to unlock these cuffs!” the man shouted.
Taggart opened the tent flap and peered in. A young woman lay on her side. She wore a Depot T-shirt that looked a lot like the one Patty had worn. Underwear but no pants. “Ma’am?”
Her legs were covered with bruises. Some looked fresh and others older. “What is your name?” Taggart asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just need a minute.”
She wasn’t okay. And she’d need more than sixty seconds. Taggart softened his tone. “Did your boyfriend hurt you?”
She sniffed as she shook her head. “No. I fell.”
Taggart bet she’d told that story to the cops before. “We’re sending in medics.”
Her eyes widened with panic. “No. I’m fine. I don’t need help.” She attempted to sit up but winced and lay back down.
“Okay.” He didn’t know what she’d taken, but she was high. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. What’s your name?”
She relaxed. “Amy.”
“Where did you get that T-shirt, Amy?” he asked.
