Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
A small window, opened just a crack, sat high up in the wall and the large garbage dumpster sat beneath it. If only I had gotten my brothers’ height, it wouldn’t be a problem to climb up on it to hear what they were saying. However, my five feet four height needed a boost to get into hearing distance.
I looked around for anything that could boost me once on top of the dumpster. I found a cinder block that was perfect to help elevate me enough to climb up on the dumpster and struck gold when I found some wood and a plastic crate. I worked as quietly as possible, placing the items on the dumpster before climbing up on it. Then with quick precision, if I do say so myself, I used the pieces of wood to rig a contraption that would be sturdy enough—at least I hoped so—to place the crate on.
I hefted myself up on it with support of the wall and grabbed the metal track of the open window just as I felt the dumpster shift a bit. I couldn’t see anything, the window not open wide enough, but when I turned my ear to the crack, the voices drifted up at me.
I recognized Mayor Barrett’s voice immediately. He was loud and angry, whereas Marsh’s voice remained even and calm.
“You’re not going to tell anyone,” the mayor warned.
So, it had been Marsh he’d been talking to.
“How can I stay quiet now with Travis’s body found? The truth might help in solving Rita’s murder,” Marsh said.
“It has nothing to do with the murders,” Barrett insisted.
“You don’t know that. It’s for the sheriff to decide,” Marsh argued.
“He’s already got it in for me. I don’t need any more fuel thrown on the fire,” Barrett snapped, his anger mounting.
“You lit the match yourself,” Marsh accused.
“How could I have known that nosy daughter of his was listening to us talk? If she minded her own business there wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Yes, there would,” Marsh said. “You made sure to get yourself involved in this case so that certain facts were not discovered.”
“Facts that have no bearing on the case,” Barrett continued to argue.
“You can’t be sure about that. You need to confess to the sheriff,” Marsh said.
“You forget who helped you get your business started,” Barrett warned.
“I paid you in full and then some. Travis was a good guy. I should have spoken up years ago,” Marsh said.
“And if you speak up now after all these years, what do you think will happen, Marsh? I tell you what, you could lose everything.”
“It’s still not right,” Marsh insisted.
“And it’s not right that one stupid mistake years ago could have ruined our lives forever,” the mayor argued.
“It was your mistake,” Marsh accused.
“And you were there to witness it, so you’re not free of guilt.”
“That guilt has haunted me for years,” Marsh said.
“Let it go and forget it. It’s the best thing for you to do,” the mayor ordered.
“Sheriff Madison isn’t going to let it go.”
“I’ll deal with the sheriff and by next election I’ll have my own man in there,” the mayor boasted.
A cell phone rang, and the mayor’s voice grew muffled as he walked away to talk.
I kept alert listening but heard nothing until a few minutes later.
“I’ve got to go. Do what I say and there’ll be no trouble,” the mayor said. “Screw me on this, Marsh, and I’ll see you in a world of hurt.”
I heard the mayor’s footsteps fade and after that the quiet was broken by the ring of a phone.
“Tell me where you are and I’ll be right there to tow you,” Marsh said, his words fading as he left the garage bay.
I waited until I heard him start up the tow truck. I was eager to tell my dad. If the mayor wouldn’t talk, maybe Marsh would. He sounded like the guilt had taken its toll on him. I heard the truck pull away. With them both gone now, it was safe to get down. I pushed myself away from the window, a bit too eagerly. The dumpster started rolling. I latched onto the window track with both hands the metal digging into my palm from my tight grip. It was a bit late to think I should have left my gloves on. Then I felt the crate beneath my feet tumble away.
“It’s okay, Pepper,” I assured myself. “All you have to do is drop down on the dumpster.”
I looked down… the dumpster wasn’t there. It had moved just out of my reach.
13
I tried to stay calm but dangling from a window where the fall would probably break a bone or two made it difficult. If I could reach my phone, I cringed. I left it in the SUV worried it would ring and I’d be caught spying yet again.