Page 20 of No Offense

“It’s fine,” Meschelle said, giving Molly a dirty look. “It’sjust the local paper, not theNew York Times. I’ll tie it in to the story I interviewed you for, Molly—which, by the way, I’m going to need photos for.”

Molly froze. “Photos?”

“Yes. You know, of you by the bathroom stall where you found the baby, and all of that.”

Molly thought, fleetingly, of both how unflattering the florescent light in the girls’ bathroom was and how disapproving the sheriff was going to be when he found out about the story.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make you look good,” Meschelle said, only partly reading her mind. “I’ll send one of the staff photographers over to the library this afternoon. Okay?”

Molly knew she’d dug her own grave. There was nothing for her to do now but lie in it.

Chapter Eight

John

The day was turning into a debacle. It had started out badly enough, with the discovery of the girl and the vandalism in the library, and it had gone downhill from there. His deputies weren’t too happy with his request that they canvass the entire neighborhood around the old high school for possible CCTV footage of the Sunshine Kids, since they’d “done that already” during previous break-ins and found nothing.

His tech crew was even less happy with his order that they swab and fingerprint everything they’d found in the media room where the librarian had discovered the unconscious girl.

“Everything?”Murray had balked.

“Yes, everything. And don’t forget to match them against that box from yesterday, the one they found the baby in.”

Murray had looked around at the mess in dismay. “Sheriff, most of this stuff is garbage. You want us to fingerprintgarbage?”

“Yes, I do.” John didn’t see why he had to explain himself to his own tech crew, most of whom, it was true, had been hired by Rich Wagner, the previous sheriff, and were still loyal to him, even though he’d turned out to be a douche of the first order.

If John wanted garbage swabbed for DNA and also fingerprinted, it was his right to ask for it to be swabbed for DNA and fingerprinted. That’s what these guys got paid for.

Things didn’t improve when John returned to his office to find a five-foot-long plush dolphin sitting in his desk chair.

“Marguerite,” he yelled when he saw it.

Marguerite sauntered slowly down the hall from her office, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“It’s for Baby Aphrodite,” she said, when she saw what he was upset about. “On account of her rising from the ocean waves.”

John thought his head might explode. “I don’t care who it’s for. Get it out of my office.”

“There’s nowhere else to put it. There’re baby toys and boxes of diapers and formula all up and down the—”

“I don’t care. Just get it out.”

Marguerite sighed. “Sure, Chief. What do you want me to do about the bachelor party riding a goat down Truman Avenue?”

“Thewhat?”

“A bunch of guys down here to celebrate their pal gettingmarried found a goat somewhere—unless they brought it themselves—and are now taking turns riding it around downtown.”

“For Christ’s sake.” Was the entire country going insane? “Send Martinez down there to arrest them for drunk and disorderly.”

“Can’t, Chief. He’s over at the bus station checking a suspicious passenger. Could be Dakota. You sent a Be On The Lookout for him, remember?”

“Well, send Reynolds, then. And tell him to get that goat over to the petting zoo, and have the vet come over to check it out for injuries.”

“Got it, Chief.”

“And stop calling me Chief. I’m the sheriff, not the chief of police.”