Page 47 of Hostile Witness
“I haven’t forgotten. But I’d prefer to nab an intruder ahead of time.”
“You’re completely ignoring the fact that I know Krav Maga. I asked you to fight me once before, and you wouldn’t.” She glanced at the shoppers eavesdropping on their conversation and lowered her voice. “My house, front lawn, in a half hour. If you win, I’ll keep sharing my location with you. If I win, you back off and stop trying to protect me.”
Stepping away, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. A female shopper swerved around Tia’s cart and muttered, “You tell him, honey.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “Are you freaking kidding me? I’d hurt you.”
She laughed, grabbed a Cornish hen from the case, and lobbed it at him as she clucked like a chicken.
An older man wearing an Orioles ball cap elbowed Ethan in the side. “You can’t let her get away with that, you know.”
Tia lifted her chin and stood her ground. She couldn’t back down now, but the befuddled look on Ethan’s face was victory enough. Besides which, the people gathering between the poultry and beef sections were craning their necks to hear his reply.
“You want to compete . . . against me?”
“I most certainly do. Let’s settle the question of whether I can take care of myself or not.”
He held out his hands. “You’ve got me at a distinct disadvantage here, Miss O’Rourke. If I sound the least bit threatening, these good folks will call the cops. But if I back down, your safety is in jeopardy and you’ll think you’ve won.”
Tia shrugged one shoulder and pointed at him. “You’re chicken.” She peered straight into his eyes, where the green was stormier now.
A frazzled-looking woman forced her cart through the crowd. “For crying out loud, I came here to get away from my bickering teenagers, and there’s drama in the meat aisle. Get it together, people. The grocery store is a hallowed zone for weary parents.” She grabbed several large packages of hot dogs and a family-size tray of pork chops and tossed them into the belly of her cart.
Ethan’s lips flattened into a grim line. “All right. You can show me your moves in a half hour. But I’m not fighting you.”
A pissed-off heat rose through her neck to her scalp.The patronizing ass,as if she were a five-year-old showing off a new karate move. “You’re a chicken.” Without another word, she broke free of the carts in the meat section, zoomed into frozen foods, tossed a few necessaries into the basket, and made a beeline for the cash register.
Ethan was already paying for his tenderloin, so she hurriedly backed up and began checking out at a self-service, but the tofu wouldn’t scan.Dammit.Dammit.
Glancing over, Ethan headed toward the door with a large bag and a bouquet of flowers in one hand.
Tia held up a bag of frozen vegetables and called after him, “I got some frozen peas. You’ll need them later.”
He waved goodbye without turning around.
Yeah, she’d show him her moves, all right.
28
Ethan slow jogged to his truck. The only thing he’d been able to do in that store was own it and apologize. What the hell had she been thinking confronting him like that? There was no way he could argue with her in a public place without repercussions. The humiliation didn’t bother him. Much. As a policeman, he put up with all kinds of verbal abuse. But his ex-wife had been a pro at making him feel small, especially in public. That was probably why he was fuming and furious inside.
But if Tia thought for one minute that he was going to let her function without any security with a murderous madman at large, she had another thing coming. He dropped the tailgate, opened his toolbox, and rummaged. He always kept extra supplies, just in case. He couldn’t let her leave the lot without a layer of protection.
Shit.He’d blown it but good.
There it is.He pulled a small box from the lower shelf and opened it. It was brand-new, a fifty-dollar investment he was damn glad he’d purchased right about now. He inserted fresh batteries while glancing at the store’s exit doors. She was still in there. Good.
Ethan tapped an app on his phone and synced the tracker with the app. A green check mark appeared thirty seconds later. The tracker and app were communicating.Hallelujah.He closed the toolbox and tailgate. Where was her car?
After sliding on a pair of sunglasses, he scanned the lot patiently—one row at a time. There was no margin for error. If she stayed upset, he wouldn’t be able to get near her for a while without it feeling weird.
He never meant to infringe on her personal decisions, but he couldn’t leave her unprotected. And while the tracker was only one level of security, at least it was something.
Ah, that’s it.He casually walked three rows over and five cars up while keeping an eye on the store’s exit. She hadn’t come out.
He sauntered to her car, bent down, and stuck the GPS tracking device on the back underside of the vehicle. His phone pinged.Success.He could just imagine telling her about this.
Maybe he’d let her win their lawn games today.Nah. That would only insult her intelligence.