Page 61 of Forever Dead
Curtis continued, “I’ve been in treatment. I’m taking what they give me. I’m trying to get work. Trying to keep out of trouble.”
“You were discharged six weeks ago,” Connor said.
“Yeah.”
“Why come back here, Curtis?”
Curtis shrugged. “Cheap rent. Familiar place.”
“Family?”
“Not anymore.”
“Friends?”
Curtis thought about that. Several people to get back in touch with, but none who particularly wanted to be in touch with him.
“Some people I know.”
The sheriff studied him for another moment.
Curtis leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Look, Sheriff, I can’t help you. I feel real bad for Miss Marsh. But it wasn’t me.”
Connor said nothing.
Curtis gave a tired shake of his head. “But I guess I’ll be your suspect.”
“You think so?” Connor asked.
“I always am with the law, Sheriff. I don’t get a fair shake of the stick.”
“That your experience?”
“That’s my record,” Curtis said.
The sheriff walked toward the front door.
“Okay,” he said. “Just don’t leave the county.”
Curtis frowned. “Am I legally required to stay?”
“I’m asking you not to leave while I check some things.”
Curtis considered arguing. There was nowhere he needed to go, and arguing with a sheriff had rarely improved his life.
“Fine.”
Connor reached for the door.
Curtis pushed himself out of the armchair.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get blind drunk.”
The sheriff stared back.
Curtis walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and took out a beer.
