Cop Town: A Novel by Karin Slaughter

Author:Karin Slaughter [Slaughter, Karin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Suspense, General, Mystery & Detective, Police Procedural
ISBN: 0345547497
Google: bzctAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00FO5YFUW
Publisher: Delacorte Press
Published: 2014-06-24T04:00:00+00:00

19

Maggie left by the front door rather than go through the carport. Her hands were loaded down with equipment. The stair treads creaked under the additional weight. She moved fast because she didn’t want Terry to ask them what they were up to. Gail was supposed to be out trapping johns. Maggie and Kate were supposed to be writing speeding tickets. All three of them would be in a world of shit if her uncle found out they were going to Colored Town to talk to a pimp about a girl.

She saw Lee Grant jogging up the sidewalk. He was wearing a gold tracksuit with green stripes down the legs. The plastic box for his hearing aid was tucked into his jacket pocket. He was the Boo Radley of the neighborhood—a little older than everybody else, a little quieter, a little strange. When Maggie was a kid, they’d called him Deaf Lee, which turned into Deathly, which everybody thought was no big deal because it wasn’t like he could hear you making fun of him.

Lee waved, but Maggie pretended not to see him. All she needed was for Terry to get the wrong idea. He was obviously spoiling for a fight.

“Hey, mama.” Gail pushed open the passenger-side door. Her eyes were bruised from the whore yesterday, but she still had a grin on her face. She was dressed in her regular clothes. Her yellow skirt was hiked up so she could hold her flask between her legs. She wore matching gold lamé ankle boots with pointy high heels. A vivid blue fedora was tight on her head. Her dry black hair hung like straw around her shoulders.

Gail said, “Deathly’s givin’ you the eye. Ain’t ya, son?” She turned to Kate in the back seat. “Maggie’s secret boyfriend. Deaf as a doornail.” She raised her voice. “Ain’t that right, Deathly?”

Maggie burned with shame. The only thing to do with Gail was ignore her. She dropped the equipment on the floorboard.

Gail revved the engine several times. “Hold on, chickies!”

Maggie jumped in before she was left on the street. The car burned rubber as it streaked away from the house. Gail roared with delight. She turned up the radio—Rolling Stones—and lit a new cigarette off the old one.

“Here.” Maggie passed back Kate’s utility belt, a pair of Jimmy’s old shoes, and one of his hats. “Sorry about the smell.”

Kate quietly laid the items on the seat beside her. She looked pale and weepy. Terry had obviously pushed her buttons. Or maybe it was the way Bud Deacon stuck his hand down his pants. Or the stench of puke coming off Jett Elliott. Or Cal Vick’s inability to look anywhere above a woman’s chest. Or the way Chip Bixby had leered at Kate like he wanted to drag her into the woods and ravage her.

Maggie couldn’t worry about other people right now. She had her own wounds to nurse. She was embarrassed by her family. Mortified by her house. Terrified that Terry would take the clues she and Kate had scraped together and bust open the Shooter case.

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