Chapter Twenty-NineMudge didn’t answer his cell phone. Shouldn’t they have let him go by now? Lydia hung up and paced across the living room. Ed Roberts had jumped him shortly before closing, so the cops must have come around two o’clock. An hour and a half . . . how long did it take to interrogate somebody? Would they pull up his juvenile records? Wait for his father? Go back to Leo’s and search his truck? She wished she’d asked Dave more questions about police procedure.
Well, Mudge would get her message when he turned his phone on. Meanwhile, with the wake looming, better grab a shower and a nap.
She was dreaming about the Fix-It Chix when her phone rang.
“Are you OK?” she blurted.
Not the first thing she’d meant to say. “Yeah.” Mudge didn’t sound OK. “I’m at the Back End. They’re g
