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I followed her to a room that was tiny but serviceable, and I noted the broad desk crammed with files. “Coffee? The one in the front room is sludge.”
“Thank you, milk and two sugars, please,” I replied as she made a to-go cup. When she rested the cup before me, I added. “I don’t want to take much of your time, but a day ago, someone tried to collide with my car. I didn’t know who it was until I was at the supermarket, and I saw Miss Hernandez, Mister West's girlfriend or secretary, I don’t know, get into the same vehicle.
“You know I was there when they discovered the dead calves,” I paused. “I spoke to John about it, and he went to get answers from Mr. West with his friend Ben; he didn’t allow John to speak with her, and John feels that it could be a planned thing.”
“Hmm,” Detective Juliann replied, her sharp eyes meeting mine. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Mister Maxwell intimate?”
“Yes,” I replied, unwilling to hide anything from her lest it would come back to bite me—and John—in our asses. “But it’s not something we need to be known because I’m working with his children. You know, conflict of interest and all that.”
“I see,” Detective Juliann nodded. “I know these things all too well, but your relationship might not be as important as Miss Hernandez almost assaulting you. Are you making a formal complaint? Because if you are, we are obligated to verbally warn them.”
“If it would help to make them think twice about any more attacks,” I replied. “Yes.”
She moved around her desk, took up a clip, slotted a sheet on it, and then handed me a pen. “Please, give your statement, and I will personally deliver the warning.”
It didn’t take me long to write down my statement; with all the things I remembered about the jeep, both from the almost-hit and the supermarket, I even jotted down the license plate for good measure.
“Done,” I said, then handed the clipboard.
“You know, rarely do I see a professional grudge turn into a personal one,” Detective Juliann said while taking the sheet. “And while I don’t want to scare you, I must warn you, they almost always get deadly.”
The pit in my stomach sank another inch. “How deadly?”
“Morgue deadly,” Detective Juliann replied.
I bit my lip. “John was worried that he might draw his kids into this, and I would hate for it to get this drastic. You don’t think so, do you, that they would harm a child to further this feud—” but the look on Detective Juliann’s face made me feel sick, “—would they?”
“I hate to tell you, but there have been cases,” she replied. “If Mr. Maxwell does change his mind, we’ll be happy to put plainclothes police officers at the school to watch them.”
“I’ll tell him,” I replied, reaching for my bag. “I just hope it never comes to that.”
“None of us do,” Detective Juliann replied, her mouth tilted in a pained smile.
I headed to my home, unsure if it was best to go right back to John. Perhaps he needed some time to himself to consider what his next steps with West would be. I’ve never had enemies as badly as John, and frankly, I’d hate to have anyone willing to harm me and be ready to drag children into the fight.
“Knock on wood; it never happens,” I murmured as I took a detour to the local bakery.
I wanted to grab some sweet treats, and I had the baker fill a box with soft baked cookies, brownies, bear claws, and sweet rolls, then strolled through the shelves to pick up a box of coffee K-cups pods, then went to cash out my goods—and jerked to a stop.
Miss Hernandez was there, looking at the sweets, and when the server went to the back room, I couldn’t help but feel this was too much of a coincidence.
“What are you doing here?” I asked bluntly.
She turned. “This is a public bakery, is it not?”
“Are you following me?”
Her dark eyes traced over me from the tip of my head to my shoes, and her lips lifted in scorn, wordlessly telling me that I wasn’t worthy of her attention. “Now, why would I do that?”
“Because when you are suddenly here with me, someone you almost ran into and might havekilled, anyone would want to know,” I replied.
“Killed?” Her brows shot up, and her slight smirk unsettled me. “According to who?”
“Me and half a dozen witnesses,” I replied.
She laughed, her dark eyes spitting with animosity. “Malparido, I dare you to call anyone whothoughtthey saw such a thing and get them to testify in court. Nothing will come from it, and do you really think you’re special to that man, Maxwell?Estúpida, you’re only the flavor of the month for him. By next month, he will have moved on to a new plaything.Thatis your reality.”
I refused to let her nasty words pierce my skin. “That might be the case, but your employer is still miles behind John, and chances are he will never catch up. That isyourreality, isn’t it?”
