“You a Foxworth?” the officer asked Spencer, who nodded eagerly. I snickered. I knew more than anyone in this god forsaken town how important the Foxworths were here. “He had a knife,” I explained to the officer lamely. I knew I was fucked. “I don’t see a knife anywhere.” The officer pretended to look around, but he wasn’t concerned. “Now, why don’t we scatter this little tussle before someone has to be cuffed and taken in?” He gave me a pointed look. “Someone?” I laughed, but the officer didn’t. To him, I was the criminal and not Spencer Foxworth.
