Time to Steal by John Gilstrap Page B

noticed that the female cop from inside the Quik Mart was watching him through the front window. “But you are with a murderer.”
    â€œSays you.”
    â€œSays a jury of his peers.”
    â€œWho convicted him on a technicality. He didn’t shoot, Daddy, he drove . The law might see it as the same, but you know as well as me that it’s different.”
    â€œWhat about the prison murder?” Carter asked. “How does he explain that?”
    â€œWhat?”
    He could tell just from the sound of her voice that he’d blindsided her. “So, he didn’t tell you about that one?” he baited. “Maybe he’s not being as forthright as you give him credit for.”
    â€œI don’t believe you,” Nicki said.
    â€œHe killed a fellow inmate,” Carter said, recalling the brief details sent on to him by both Chris Tu and Warren Michaels. “He was about to be arrested for that when he bolted from the prison.”
    She was stunned. He could tell from the depth of her silence. “So, he hasn’t been tried on that, then,” she said. She was fishing for anything that looked like hope.
    â€œNicki—”
    â€œNo, he must have had a good reason. He’s not a violent man. He couldn’t hurt anyone. He just couldn’t .”
    The circularity of her logic made his head swim. “Look, Nicki, I know it’s important for you to believe—”
    â€œI’m not leaving him,” she said. “I’m not .”
    â€œThen why are you calling me?”
    Again, she was flustered. “I, uh, I just thought . . . I wanted . . .”
    â€œYou wanted me to come and get you.” He said this gently. He had to be careful. If he pushed her too hard, she’d hang up on him. “Just tell me where you are, sweetie. Give me the address, and I can be there in just a few minutes. Or, I can send the police.” The instant that word—the p word—left his lips, he knew he’d blown it.
    â€œDammit, Daddy, it’s always the same with you. You don’t understand anything.”
    He cursed himself. In the heat of the moment, he’d said exactly what was on his mind. He knew better than to do that. Dammit! “Okay, then, no police,” he said. “I won’t call anyone. I promise.” He spoke quickly, fearful that she’d hang up on him. “Just let me come and get you. Let me pick you up.”
    â€œAnd then what?” she asked.
    The question caught him unprepared. “What do you mean?”
    â€œYou pick me up and then what? You said that they want to arrest me for that killing. If they really believe that I did it, then what happens after you pick me up?”
    A sense of dread invaded Carter’s soul. He hadn’t thought it through this far yet. “Then we’ll get it straightened out. Somehow.”
    * * *
    Nicki sneaked a glance around the corner to look at Brad. The food had arrived, and he was eating. She ducked her head back before he could see her.
    â€œNicki, are you there? Pay attention to me.”
    â€œI’m here, Daddy. You haven’t answered my question. I ran away in the first place because I didn’t want to spend my last months in a hospital. I sure as heck don’t want to spend them in jail.” Past the rain-spattered glass on this end of the restaurant, the fishing pier extended out a hundred yards over the churning sea. She envied the few remaining holdouts whose lives allowed them the luxury of fishing in the rain.
    Her father’s tone lost some of its edge. “We’ll show that you’re innocent. We’ll show that he’s the one with the record of killing, and that you’re deserving of mercy, under the circumstances.”
    â€œThere are no circumstances!” It came out as a whispered shout, but a shout nonetheless, too loud for the tight surroundings. “He didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t and he