Haunted Fixer-Upper, The by Rose Pressey

I hated being the one to deliver the bad news.
    “ What’s wrong?” The color drained from his face. “Is Reed okay?”
    I guess ed my appearance didn’t help his anxiety since I was now covered in mud.
    “ The police took him to the station,” I said breathlessly.
    “ What in God’s name for?” he asked with wide eyes.
    “ They want to ask him questions about Gordon Millerton’s murder.” I searched his face for a reaction.
    “ What a bunch of idiots. I can’t believe this. Let me make a quick phone call and then I’ll take us to the police station.”
    “I’ll go change,” I said as I hurried out the door and back toward the cottage.
    I prayed that Reed’s uncle was calling a lawyer. They couldn’t question Reed like that without a lawyer. What did they think they had on him anyway? He’d told them everything he knew right after the murder.
    After quickly washing off the mud, I jumped into a pair of jeans and threw a T-shirt over my head, then slipped into my sneakers. Thank goodness I had Reed’s uncle to help me. What would I do without him?
    When I stepped out of the c abin, Reed’s uncle was just pulling up in his new shiny red truck. I splashed through a couple puddles and climbed into the truck. My shoes would probably leave his new truck filthy. At least when the other one had broken down he finally gave up the ghost and bought a new one.
    I buckled my seatbelt and glanced over , but he didn’t speak. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes as we sped down the road. What did I say to a man whose son was being questioned for murder? Other than I knew his son was innocent. There was no way Reed could have done something like this. Soon the police would realize that and let him go. This nightmare would be over and I never wanted to think of it again.
    Raindrops patted against the windshield and the wipers swooshed in a steady rhythm. As we hurried down the road toward the police station, I had to admit I felt a little hopeless. What could I do to help Reed? Anxiety gnawed at my insides. I shifted on the seat, unable to find a comfortable spot. We passed only a couple of cars. The streets were abandoned at that time of night. Lou tapped his fingers rapidly against the steering wheel.
    Lou finally broke the silence. “Reed talked to the police right after he found Gordon’s body, right?” He glanced over at me.
    I pushed a stray stand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, he told them everything he knew. From what I hear, there are plenty of people in town who would have wanted Gordon dead. Reed isn’t one of them though.”
    “W ell, he is the easy target because he found the body. They are a bunch of jackasses.”
    “If you don’ t mind me asking, who did you call?”
    “I called my friend. He’s a lawyer. I should’ ve called him earlier today when I first found out about this.”
    The police station was on the edge of town, the opposite direction from Lou’s house and the plantation. Lou slowed down as he pulled into the parking lot. Thank goodness because the last thing I needed was for him to be arrested. The stone building was small, but seemed cold and gloomy. I supposed that had a little something to do with the bars on the windows and the barbed wire around the fenced-in areas.
    The visitor parking lot was virtually empty, so Lou pulled into a spot right up in front of the station. The lot to our left held a sea of blue-and-white marked police cars. The rain had begun to slack off and was now just a drizzle. I didn’t waste time hopping out, beating Lou to the entrance. I pushed the button and waited for someone to buzz us in.
    Lou and I entered through the heavy steel doors and stopped in the lobby to ask for Reed.
    “Someone will be with you in a minute,” the female officer said, pointing toward the metal chairs in the corner of the space.
    A few men on the bad side of the law stood behind a glass window staring at us. Talk about awkward. I didn’t want Reed to end up