Dustin was dazed, but not too dazed to know that he had not broken the law just yet.
He stepped out quietly, calmly.
He thought he could talk his way out.
First, he told the lady cop that he’d come to Carrollton to borrow some money from his uncle.
A few seconds later, he said that he’d been looking for his stepfather.
A few seconds after that, he volunteered the information that his stepfather was in jail.
The lady cop didn’t look fazed at all. But Dustin felt that his words were all coming out wrong, in a tangle that didn’t convey how innocent his actions, up to that point, had been.
“Tell me again who you’re visiting here,” the cop instructed. “’Cause now I’m confused. First you said ‘uncle’ and then you said—”
“His name’s John,” Dustin interrupted. “Okay? We always called him ‘John.’ That was it.”
This was much better. So close to the truth, Dustin reasoned, it didn’t even sound much like a lie.
It was just like Billie had told him: “Always stick close to the truth when you lie. So close that you believe everything you’re saying.”
Now Dustin was doing just that, and it didn’t surprise him at all to see the cop smiling, or to feel himself smiling as well.
“Okay,” she said. “So, John’s…a friend of the family?”
“Yes. Basically.”
“And what is your business with John?”
This was a curveball. But so far, the truth had seemed like a good strategy, and Dustin decided that he’d go all in.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m not trying to cause no problems, ma’am. But the thing is I am a hit man. Like, a contract killer? I’m a hit man, and I’m up here in Carrollton—”
Even before he’d gotten the words out, it dawned on Dustin he’d made a mistake. A weird mistake, and it was weird, too, that although he’d commanded his mouth to stop talking, it kept on talking on its own accord.
“I’m up here to commit a hit,” the mouth said. “A hit on a woman in Carrollton.”