Page 51 of Sworn to Silence
“Did Amanda fuck with you?”
“No.”
“Did your boss at Agri-Flo fuck with you?”
His face darkens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You threatened to cut her throat. Ring a bell?”
“I didn’t do that, man.”
“I told you not to call me that.”
His grimace is more like a snarl. The baby face is breaking down, giving way to the real deal. He’s getting agitated. That’s exactly where I want him. “What do you want with me?” he asks.
“What time did you leave the Brass Rail Saturday night?”
“I don’t know. Midnight. Maybe oneA.M.”
“Do you own a knife?”
He looks around, a fox about to be mauled by hounds. “I think so.”
“What do you mean you think so? You don’t know? You don’t remember? How can you not be sure if you own a knife?”
Glock passes close behind him. “You might try some of that gingko shit, buddy. I hear it’s good for the memory.”
Brower sneers. “Look, I just...ain’t seen it in a while.”
“Did you lose it? Maybe you disposed of it.”
“Look, it’s probably layin’ around my house somewhere.”
I glance Glock’s way. “Sounds like we might need a warrant.”
“I think so,” he responds.
Brower looks from me to Glock and back to me. “Why are you guys fuckin’ with me like this?”
“Because I can. Because you smell bad. Because I think you’re a lying piece of shit. All of the above.”
He stares at me, his face turning a deep shade of red. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
I glance over my shoulder at Glock. “Did you hear me say anything inappropriate?”
“Maybe he’s sensitive, Chief.”
“Fuck you,” Brower spits in Glock’s direction. “Goddamn nigger cop.”
Glock laughs outright.
My temper ignites. There’s nothing I hate more than a bigot. Even if this man is innocent of murdering Amanda Horner, he’s a rude pig. I’m going to ruin his day. His week. His entire month if I can manage. “You got any weapons on you, Scotty?”
“No.” He shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
He doesn’t obey. Instead, he takes a step back, putting space between us. I set my hand on the expandable baton at my belt. I’d like to taze him, but they weren’t part of the Painters Mill budget. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
