Sally: Autumn Storms (F&L Story #4)

Sally: Part 33

Part 33

“Jesus Christ, Wil! The shit has hit the fan,” Josh said over the phone that afternoon. “What in God's name have you been doing down there?”

Wilson sighed and stared at the water stain on the motel's ceiling as he listened to his closest friend bitch at him. He wasn't allowed to see Sally while she remained at the hospital, he didn't want to go back to the farm because it was too far away from her, and since he preferred to not go back to jail by trying to sneak in to see Sally, he was stuck here, twiddling his thumbs. Those were his choices, and he didn't like either of them. He had no idea where her brother lived, or he'd go there. A cab ride from the police department and this seedy motel room was all he could afford, and he was fairly sure the guy in the next room was cooking meth or something. The whole damn block smelled funny.

Josh didn't give him a chance to explain. In an angry, heated voice, he said, “You get arrested for disturbing the peace in a hospital and threatening a nurse, and a police officer, and a commissioner of the parole board in Arkansas just called me. Do you know what he said?”

“I can only imagine,” Wil groaned. Honestly, he didn't care if the governor himself called to complain. His only concern at the moment was Sally. He'd heard no word by now, though her brother told him she wasn't going to die, but that didn't mean anything. After enduring the past twelve hours in torment and waiting, no news wasn't exactly good news to him.

“He said that the ch-charges against you will be dropped if you g-get out of the state,” Josh said, his irritation making him stutter a little. Wilson felt a stab guilt about that. His friend worked very hard to overcome that childhood affliction. “You were given special p-privileges, Wil. Normally for a parolee to reside in another state, we'd have to go through m-months of preparations, home visits, and miles of red tape. I stuck my neck out for you to g-get all that sped up, and this is h-how you repay me?”

“I'm sorry, Josh.”

“So, you've got a choice, my friend,” Josh told him, breathing and speaking normally again.

Great, more terrible choices. “Which would be?”

“You've got twenty-four hours to get your ass across the state line, or I'll be forced to send a bounty hunter after you. Or you can go back to prison. Which is it?”

“I'm not leaving without seeing Sally,” Wilson said, booking no leniency in his tone.

“That woman has done nothing but cause you trouble,” Josh said.

Wilson closed his eyes and counted to ten. “Be careful what you say, Josh. I'm gonna marry that woman, and I'd hate for this to come between us one day.”

Josh grunted. “Listen, I understand. You love her. If that were me and Clara, I'd do the same thing, but we're talking about your freedom here. You're supposed to stay straight and narrow for two more years, Wil, and yet, you were arrested after only one month. I've supervised hard-core druggies and kleptomaniacs who stayed clean longer than that. If you really want to marry this woman, you'll convince her to come here to Missouri with you, because unless a miracle happens, you're restricted to this state for the remainder of your parole.”

Again, Wilson didn't care about all of that. “Listen, there's something not right here, I know it,” he said. “This Peter guy who Sally says used to work for the sheriff's department--”

“Peter? Peter Benson?”

“Hell if I know what his last name is. The Peter I'm talking about was Sally's former fiance, the one I told you about. We saw him one night, and she says he's been bothering her ever since. I think he's behind all this.”