conditions. It’s ice under the snow that’s tricky, but this blizzard came so fast there hasn’t been much ice buildup since the roads were cleared.”
Dixie nodded, and they rode in silence for a while. For the first time all day, she felt her shoulders and neck relax.
“Guess you know what a legend you are around the jail-house,” Dann said.
“Legend?”
“You know, someone prisoners swap stories about.”
She knew what he was getting at, having fabricated a good number of the stories herself. Her reputation as a badass bitch made skips think twice about resisting.
“Did you really follow a guy into the men’s room, cuff him at the urinal before he could zip his pecker back in his pants?”
More than once. “Catch a man with his pants down, he’stoo surprised to fight back.” But she’d never transported a skip in the trunk of her car; those nasty rumors were useful but false.
“Another guy said you started a bonfire outside his bedroom window while he and his girl were getting it on. When they smelled smoke and came crashing out, you were waiting for him.”
“Wouldn’t call it a bonfire. A few sticks, some newspapers.”
Dann laughed. “Hell, you’ve got a cold heart.”
“Only kind to have in my business.”
His smile faded. “That’s a hint, right? Guess it’s not smart to listen to a prisoner’s story.”
When she didn’t answer, he turned his attention to the road. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat, and Dixie knew he was about to lay it on her.
“Truth is, I’d give anything to know for sure I didn’t kill that little girl. I honestly don’t know.”
“It’s hard to know anything when you’re falling-down drunk.”
“I was feeling no pain, for sure. Celebrating my first three-million-dollar sale—to a demolition company out of New Orleans.”
Three million? “What the hell did you sell, explosives?”
“Heavy equipment. Dozers, tractors, backhoes.”
Tuning him out as he droned on about making the sale, Dixie considered how to handle it if they managed to find a motel room. She’d have to leave him hitched to the steering wheel while she booked a room, then cuff him to the bed.
Her eyes felt sandblasted. She closed them against the strain of the swirling landscape, gray now more than white, with the sun setting. When she snapped her eyes open, twenty minutes had passed.
“Good timing,” Dann said. “Looks like a roadblock ahead.”
The faint glow of yellow lights dotted the road, one of them blinking.
“Keep that cuff out of sight, or I’ll have to turn you over tothe sheriff.” She knew he’d rather take his chances with her than end up in a small-town jail.
As Dann coasted to a stop, she slid the .45 under her seat. A man in a heavy parka jogged up to the driver’s side. Dann lowered the window. When the man hunched over to look in, Dixie saw a highway department emblem on his coat and wondered if he might know McGrue. Doubtful, this far north. The parka’s hood was drawn close around the man’s face. Snow coated his mustache and brows, turning them white.
“You folks took a big chance coming through without chains.”
“Didn’t realize we were in for such a storm,” Dann said cheerfully. “Found out the hard way.”
“Not nearly as hard as it could’ve been. There’s sixty miles more of this and it’s still coming. Afraid we’ll have to stop you here.” He pointed. “Turn right and go about four miles to Sisseton. You’ll see the Sparks Motel. Emma Sparks has a room waiting for you.”
Dann raised one of his bushy eyebrows.
“Waiting for us? Like she knew we were coming?”
The officer knocked snow off his lashes with a padded-gloved hand. “Margie, from the Grandin Diner, said to watch for you guys. Otherwise, I’d be home now, with a warm fire and a hot meal.”
“Appreciate your waiting,” Dann said.
“You can follow me into Sisseton, get a good night’s sleep.” The trooper slapped a farewell on the
Dixie nodded, and they rode in silence for a while. For the first time all day, she felt her shoulders and neck relax.
“Guess you know what a legend you are around the jail-house,” Dann said.
“Legend?”
“You know, someone prisoners swap stories about.”
She knew what he was getting at, having fabricated a good number of the stories herself. Her reputation as a badass bitch made skips think twice about resisting.
“Did you really follow a guy into the men’s room, cuff him at the urinal before he could zip his pecker back in his pants?”
More than once. “Catch a man with his pants down, he’stoo surprised to fight back.” But she’d never transported a skip in the trunk of her car; those nasty rumors were useful but false.
“Another guy said you started a bonfire outside his bedroom window while he and his girl were getting it on. When they smelled smoke and came crashing out, you were waiting for him.”
“Wouldn’t call it a bonfire. A few sticks, some newspapers.”
Dann laughed. “Hell, you’ve got a cold heart.”
“Only kind to have in my business.”
His smile faded. “That’s a hint, right? Guess it’s not smart to listen to a prisoner’s story.”
When she didn’t answer, he turned his attention to the road. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat, and Dixie knew he was about to lay it on her.
“Truth is, I’d give anything to know for sure I didn’t kill that little girl. I honestly don’t know.”
“It’s hard to know anything when you’re falling-down drunk.”
“I was feeling no pain, for sure. Celebrating my first three-million-dollar sale—to a demolition company out of New Orleans.”
Three million? “What the hell did you sell, explosives?”
“Heavy equipment. Dozers, tractors, backhoes.”
Tuning him out as he droned on about making the sale, Dixie considered how to handle it if they managed to find a motel room. She’d have to leave him hitched to the steering wheel while she booked a room, then cuff him to the bed.
Her eyes felt sandblasted. She closed them against the strain of the swirling landscape, gray now more than white, with the sun setting. When she snapped her eyes open, twenty minutes had passed.
“Good timing,” Dann said. “Looks like a roadblock ahead.”
The faint glow of yellow lights dotted the road, one of them blinking.
“Keep that cuff out of sight, or I’ll have to turn you over tothe sheriff.” She knew he’d rather take his chances with her than end up in a small-town jail.
As Dann coasted to a stop, she slid the .45 under her seat. A man in a heavy parka jogged up to the driver’s side. Dann lowered the window. When the man hunched over to look in, Dixie saw a highway department emblem on his coat and wondered if he might know McGrue. Doubtful, this far north. The parka’s hood was drawn close around the man’s face. Snow coated his mustache and brows, turning them white.
“You folks took a big chance coming through without chains.”
“Didn’t realize we were in for such a storm,” Dann said cheerfully. “Found out the hard way.”
“Not nearly as hard as it could’ve been. There’s sixty miles more of this and it’s still coming. Afraid we’ll have to stop you here.” He pointed. “Turn right and go about four miles to Sisseton. You’ll see the Sparks Motel. Emma Sparks has a room waiting for you.”
Dann raised one of his bushy eyebrows.
“Waiting for us? Like she knew we were coming?”
The officer knocked snow off his lashes with a padded-gloved hand. “Margie, from the Grandin Diner, said to watch for you guys. Otherwise, I’d be home now, with a warm fire and a hot meal.”
“Appreciate your waiting,” Dann said.
“You can follow me into Sisseton, get a good night’s sleep.” The trooper slapped a farewell on the
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