Page 5 of Hostile Witness

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Page 5 of Hostile Witness

She rubbed a finger on the white quartz countertop. “I didn’t get to apologize yesterday considering the circumstances, but I’m really sorry for contaminating you and the crime scene.” Of course, the fact that she wasn’t handling trauma very well these days played a major role in yesterday’s outcome, but she wouldn’t overshare that tidbit with him.

He tossed a glance over his shoulder as he tested the lock on her back door. “No worries, it happens sometimes. I’m kind of used to it. Walking in on a scene like that is a lot to take in. You ought to see the recruits during smelly-cadaver day at the police academy. It flattens some of the toughest people I’ve ever met.”

Tia leaned against the counter, trying to depict an ease she didn’t feel. “That’s kind of you to give me a pass. I meant to ask yesterday: Do you guys still visit classrooms and talk to kids about jobs in law enforcement? Age-appropriate info for third to fifth grade?”

Ethan nodded with a smile. “Sure. We have plenty of swag for that kind of community-outreach event. I’ll usually cover the basic Officer Friendly topics like stranger danger and bike safety. Just call the precinct, and they’ll set it up.”

Her hand holding the coffee cup froze midair. There was no way she’d be calling the station anytime soon. For goodness’ sake, she’d barely gotten through going into the precinct yesterday. And anyway, she’d been thinking about asking Odessa Wright and not Detective Kelley. “Do you know what happened to the dog from Glen Cove Road?”

“Bayside Animal Hospital picked him up, and he’s recovering from surgery. You may have seen on the news that the poor dog sustained a lot of injuries because somebody kicked and beat him. He’s a K9 and desperately tried to help the victim. Bayside will take good care of him though, and he’ll be placed in a new home once he recuperates.”

“Was he the woman’s service dog?”

“Yes. They were both retired. K9s deserve the gold-standard treatment. A lot of folks don’t want to take them in as pets because they’re not sure if the dog will blend well with their family. What if they’re aggressive? Retired dogs are usually older, and the medical expenses increase as they age. But there are pictures all over that house of the lieutenant and the dog. She loved him. It’s no wonder he hurt himself trying to protect her.”

The detective’s profile softened as he talked. He wasn’t the impersonal prick she’d originally thought, even though the boy she’d made out with on a beach one clear spring night was long gone. He’d grown and toughened, and his muscles were impressive. He’d picked her up and carried her outside yesterday as if she weighed twenty pounds.

“Right now, they have him sedated,” he continued. “The vet said whenever the dog woke up last night, he whined as though his heart were breaking. Bayside has been taking care of that dog’s medical needs for a couple of years. But he doesn’t like getting clipped, so the owner had attached him to a homemade grooming station she’d bolted into the floor to clip and brushhim. If she would’ve unhooked him before answering the door, he’d have protected her with his life.”

Omigod.“So she’s dead and he’s injured, all because he doesn’t like to be groomed?” A cold knot formed in her stomach.

Kelley pierced her with eyes the green of an Irish meadow in summer and shrugged. “We’ve all got our vulnerable spots. His is grooming.” Without taking his eyes off her, he grabbed his coffee and sipped.

Uncomfortable under his gaze, Tia looked away, rubbing the goose bumps from her arms.

He pointed toward the family room. “I see you’ve got a doggie door. Where’s the dog?”

Ah, that.“The dog door was there when I bought the place. There’s no puppy.”

Running his hands over the frame, Ethan examined the wood like a doctor would a patient. “Probably just as well. It’s the original door and has rotted over the decades.” He glanced at her. “You need a new one. This is a security risk. I bet if I gave it a good shove from the outside, it would give way and take the dead bolt with it because the molding’s soft. If you’d like, I know a guy over on Eighty-Seventh Street... ”

There he went again, offering to help her out. The steel door she’d picked out had been on back order for months. Tia cleared her throat. “Thank you, Detective. I’ll get to it as soon as I can.”

Kelley gave a quick nod. “Suit yourself.” He strode into the kitchen and began checking her windows.

Good lord, he was way too much man in her little kitchen.

“Would you consider letting me nail a few of these old windows shut to tighten up security?”

What?“And close off the ocean breeze? Absolutely not!” A tense silence enveloped the room.

Tia crossed her arms. “Thank you for checking on me and for the wake-me-up coffee. I am now in the proceed-with-cautionportion of my day because of this.” She held up her coffee. “Is there anything else you need, Detective?”

Placing both hands on his hips, he faced her with frustration rolling off him in waves. “I hope you’ve got a gun on the premises, because this place has the security of a sieve. If you do own a firearm, keep it loaded—safety on—and close by until we find the person who killed Margie Plante.” He looked at her expectantly. “Tell me you at least own a gun.”

The bloodstained white love seat flashed through her mind.That poor woman.Tia had a love-hate relationship with guns, loving the protection and hating the thought of hurting anyone. Her uncle had insisted on a gun-safety course and had taught her to shoot when she’d turned twenty-one. Target practice was scheduled every two months, just in case.

“I do own a firearm. I practice regularly and clean it after every use. I’m also proficient in Krav Maga, thanks to my uncle. Every now and then, the police academy will invite me to hone my skills on the recruits during training.” She gave him an appraising look. “You look to be about six foot four, maybe two forty? Take off your shoes. I’ll prove it to you now.” She kicked her bunny slippers to the side and crooked a finger in his direction. “C’mon, attack me.”

Amusement tugged at his lips. “No, I value my nuts.”

She winced and laughed. “As you should, Detective.”

“Then why did your uncle send me over here to check on you?”

“Because he remembers when I was six and he’d buy me cotton candy on the boardwalk and take me for rides on the Ferris wheel. He also fancies himself the head of our family since my father passed away eight years ago.”

Ethan held his hands up. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell the chief you’re fine and have the situation under control.”




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