He knows a lot about the crime

"I got that. If you'll recall, I tried to talk to you yesterday, and you told me to get lost." Robbie took a deep breath as he collected the stares from around the table. "Can he hear you right now?" "No. He's lying in the backseat, rubbing his head, afraid to move. Me, I'm sitting on the hood, dodging 18-wheelers." "Tell us why you believe this guy." "Well, let's see, where do I start? He knows a lot about the crime. He was in Slone when it happened. He's obviously capable of such violence. He's dying. There's no proof against Donte Drumm other than the confession. And Boyette has her senior class ring on a chain around his neck. That's the best I can do, Robbie. And, I'll admit, there's a slight chance this is all a big lie." "But you're helping him jump parole. You're committing a crime." "Don't remind me, okay? I just talked to my wife and she happened to mention that." "How soon can you get here?" "I don't know. Three hours, maybe. We've stopped twice for coffee because I haven't slept in three nights. I bought myself a speeding ticket, one written by the slowest trooper in Oklahoma. Now Boyette is puking his guts out, and I'd rather him do that in a ditch and not in my car. I don't know, Robbie. We're trying." "Hurry up." Chapter 19 With the sun up and the town anxiously coming to life, the Slone police were on high alert, with holsters unfastened, radios squawking, patrol cars darting up and down the streets, and every officer looking for the next hint of trouble. It was expected at the high school, and for good measure the chief sent half a dozen men there early on Thursday morning. When the students arrived for class, they saw police cars parked near the main entrance, an ominous sign.