Crown's Law by Wolf Wootan Read Free Book Online

guess .
    Sam made a decision. Temporarily, he would
not turn Becky in. He would talk to his mother and father before he
did anything—get their advice. He was probably breaking a bunch of
laws, but he was once again invoking Crown’s Law.
    “OK, Becky. For now, I’ll not turn you in.
We’ll try and figure something out. Your 7 o’clock appointment will
have to be canceled,” said Sam, having no idea how much this
decision would impact his life later.
    “But I could use the $20,” complained Becky.
“And the shower.”
    “You can reschedule the tutoring after I
absorb all of this. I’ll see that you get a shower. Hungry?”
    “Famished! I haven’t eaten all damned day.
That’s why I need the $20!” shrugged Becky.
    Sam thought, What a package! Foul street mouth at times, college grad at
others! Tough kid!
    “OK, let’s go get something to eat and talk
some more. If I’m going to help you, I need to know everything
about your situation. My van’s right over there.”
    “Oh, sure! How do I know you’re not just
another dirty old man like my stepfather? I hear perverts always
drive vans like that,” said Becky with a dead pan face.
    “If you thought that, why did you tell me all
that you did? I thought you trusted me!” replied Sam.
    “I do. That was supposed to be humor. I guess
I need some work in that area. Let’s go, I’m hungry!”
    Sam took her to a nearby cafe and she had a
chocolate shake, two cheeseburgers, and a large platter of fries.
He had never seen such a small person eat so much before. He had a
chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes, all covered with country
gravy—something he liked but never cooked for himself.
    Becky wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and
said, “That’s better! Thanks! Now, we have a couple of
problems.”
    “Oh? What would they be?” smiled Sam.
    “One, my sister. How does she get a decent
burial? Two, all my stuff’s in Rachel’s car,” explained the scrawny
girl. “And three, I would love a shower. I’m filthy!”
    Sam replied, “One thing at a time. Your
sister’s . . . er, body will be at the morgue for awhile. I’ll try
and think of something. Now, let’s go to your car and get your
things, then I’ll take you to my parents’ house where you can get
cleaned up. Then we’ll plan our next step. Sound like a plan?”
    “Thank you, sir!”
    “But first, we have to swing by police
headquarters so I can give them a statement about those guys who
killed Rachel. You can stay in the van out of sight. It shouldn’t
take long.”
    ***
    It was 7:35 P.M.—nearly dark—when Sam
drove back to the crime scene area and parked behind the beat-up
Toyota. Becky stared at the entry to the alley where she had last
seen her sister alive. Yellow crime tape was strung across the
alley mouth. No one was watching as Sam and Becky got out of his
van and approached the car. Becky reached in the driver’s window
and popped the trunk open. She went to the trunk and retrieved a
shabby suitcase and a Von’s plastic shopping bag with some books in it. Another plastic
bag held some dirty clothes. There was similar suitcase there,
presumably Rachel’s.
    “Do you want any of your sister’s stuff?”
asked Sam, a pressure tightening around his heart.
    “I don’t think so. I have a picture of her in
my suitcase—so I can remember her. Maybe, if you have room, we can
bring her suitcase. She might have hidden some money in there, or
something. Her clothes don’t fit me, though.”
    “Where are the car keys?”
    “They were in Rachel’s purse. She never left
them in the car,” explained Becky.
    They loaded the suitcases and the plastic
bags into Sam’s van. Becky climbed up into the passenger’s seat and
put on her seat belt. Sam debated on whether to tell the cops about
the Toyota, but decided not to. It added nothing to their
investigation, which was cut-and-dried, and they would wonder how
he knew about it. It could not be sold for much. He decided to