?Running With Scissors ?

?c h a p t e r 04?

Before I can question their intruding presence, a young man holds a picture in my face. "Miss, have you seen this man?"

"Uh," I grab the photo and look it over.

The man pictured has a military cropped hair cut and is in a black fitted suit that looks more expensive than my bike and wigs combined. His nose is slightly crooked from a old break that didn't heal properly and his stern face compliments those endless black eyes. I immediately recognize him even though in the photograph he lacks the worry lines on his face because he has been staring back at me half the day; he is my homeless man but probably from several years ago.

What do the police want with him? He must have done something big for this many pigs to show up chasing his tail.

"I gave him a hair cut today." I offer.

"Officer Salazar, she's positively identified the suspect." They young man says into the crowd of blue uniforms that seem to be everywhere.

A middle-aged man with early balding and a pencil mustache pushes through the bodies without so much as a 'excuse me'. He's holding one of those evidence bags you see in movies but this one has a big black gun in it.

When did I get a gun?

It's not yours, Stupid.

"Hello Miss Adley, I'm officer Jason Salazar with the Police department. Please have a seat." He stretches his arm out to my sofa.

"This is my house and that," I point to the furniture, "is my chair so why don't you have a seat."

"Oh-Kay." He slowly lowered himself down, watching as I do the same. I wait for him to be fully sitting on the chair before I sit down.

Power move.

The officer looks me over for a while. I'm sure the discount Doctor Who jammies and funky socks gives him a good impression of me. I don't really care what he thinks. People spend their time judging you instead of helping and cops are the worst about it.

"Miss," he breaks the ice, "the man you brought to your home is a-"

"Warrant." I interrupt him.

"Excuse me?"

So he does have manners. "I want to see the warrant that says you can come into my home and search my things when I've been a model citizen."

Officer Whatshisface calls to another clone who hands him a stapled stack of paper. It definitely looks important and when he hands it to me, I realize what it is. Not only have the clowns that call themselves cops in my small town managed to get a warrant, they've got it signed by the director of the FBI himself. Holy. Crap.

"What is all this about?"

Now smug, the officer continues. "The man you identified is a federally wanted criminal for espionage and two homicides named Luca Rubio. We need to debrief you on everything he said to you."

Luca is a sexy name. . .not that that's relevant.

"Oh, that's easy. He's said nothing at all. Not when I bought him food or when he kicked my door down. Not even when I told him we weren't having sex." I folded my hands in front of me, trying to look innocent.