Ignition: Day 4

Word Count: 24,035

Summary of Events:

Rebekka was brought breakfast by a visibly upset Keiller — which fit with all the arguing she'd heard before he arrived — who asked her the same questions he had the night before, as well as threatening to hurt her if he had to in order to get the answers. Upset, she threw her spoon at him and he left in a huff, leaving her to worry about just what his threat might look like. Keiller was frustrated by the fact that everyone was mad at him for some reason or another, and felt there was nothing he could do with regard to investigating his predecessor's murder while confined to his office; he did, however get a local teen to deliver the Acting Marshal badge to the mayor's house, only to discover that the money he was certain he'd had on his person was gone when he went to pay the teen for his work.

Excerpt of the Day:

Brisk footsteps sounded overhead, heading toward the kitchen. She wished she could tell more of what was going on. All she’d heard was muffled discussion and footsteps all over the place.

Now they sounded down the stairs and Marshal Bartlett appeared, striding over briskly.

“I seem to have misplaced something about seven dollars,” Marshal Bartlett said. “Do I have any reason to believe you might have an idea where it’s gone, considering you pinched my gun and handcuffs?”

She flushed with indignation and mortification. Part of her was upset at him for having been able to figure out she had it — even if she’d forgotten until now — and part of her was uncomfortable with remembering just where she’d gone and put it all.

“It’s either you or Geoffrey,” Marshal Bartlett said. “And I have someone I’d like to pay for helping me who wouldn’t be allowed to just waltz over to the bank and withdraw the money I promised him from my account.”

He had someone else to suspect, and she hoped he suspected that other suspect more than he suspected her, yet, at the same time, was quite terrified that he’d seen her flush and even knew exactly where she was hiding the money.

“And in your case, lying is only going to leave you locked up longer,” Marshal Bartlett added.

It wasn’t like she could do anything with the money, and if she was in jail longer she’d be able to do even less with it. As if she didn’t dislike him enough.

Raising her hand, she turned it so the palm went from facing him, to her.

He gathered his brows in a sceptically confused expression.

“Turn around,” she snapped.

Marshal Bartlett looked a little bemused, but actually obeyed without question, and she couldn’t deny that she was grateful.

Carefully she retrieved the coins from where she’d hidden them, then rose, crossed the floor to where Marshal Bartlett was standing, reached through the bars, and dropped the coins onto the floor.

Marshal Bartlett startled before immediately crouching to pick up the coins, which he counted in his hand once he’d collected them all.

“That’s about what I thought, except that I’m missing a five-dollar bill,” Marshal Bartlett replied, turning around again.

She pulled out the bill easily, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at him. She’d seen the flush rise on his face as he’d been handling those coins. He knew exactly where she’d been keeping them, and he’d looked almost pleased about it.

With an impressive show of reflexes, Marshal Bartlett reached behind his back and successfully caught the crumpled bill after it made contact with him, and without turning back around or even thanking her for restoring his money to him, he departed.

Scowling after him severely, she chided herself for having kept the money where she had, especially once she’d been locked up here. Now she’d gone and given him incentive to do what he willed with her.