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Brain crept to the window, pressed his back against the wall and craned his neck around the sill. A moment later, he said, “All clear. It’s safe to get up.” He strode back over to her and offered his hand.
But she couldn’t take it, actually more afraid of what might happen, of how she might feel if she touched him again, than of the shooter coming back.
She got up on her own. “Thanks. You’re quick on your feet.”
“Any idea who was shooting at you? Or why?”
“No.” The only thing she could think was that it was somehow related to whatever had happened to Haley. “Maybe it was Seth.”
A frown tugged between his dark brows. “Why would a cop drive by your house and shoot at you?” he asked, sounding as though it was outside the realm of possibility.
“Cops commit crimes, too. Premeditated. Out of passion. Desperation. Don’t look at me as if I’m delusional.”
Jaw hardening, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right. Some cops are bad. But not most. I would know.”
“Maybe you don’t see too clearly with the rose-colored glasses you wear.”
“I’ve been through the carnage of war, endured physical nightmares that would traumatize most and seen how ugly humanity can be. Trust and believe, I see clearly.” He took a deep breath. The corners of his mouth lifted in a soft smile. He raised his palms, like a white flag, suggesting peace. “Let’s not get sidetracked. I get you’ve made being mean your hobby, but it’s not going to get you answers or help Haley. How about a truce since we’re on the same side. What do you say?”
She took a step back. Something inside her deflated, all the anger and annoyance fizzling away at that one little benign act. Perhaps what made it so powerful was that it seemed sincere.
This man kept throwing her off-kilter, softening her despite her efforts to maintain her hardened edge. Part of her regretted giving him a hard time. The other part remembered he was a cop.
Snap out of it.He was probably just trying to get her to lower her guard. No one was ever that nice. At least not to her.
Being mean wasn’t a hobby. It was a defense mechanism. The best one she had, but she couldn’t ignore that working together was the only way to get answers. “Okay, truce.”
“What motive would Seth have for coming here? Why would he shoot at you?”
“Because I know what he did. I saw the blood in the house. Then someone set a fire and the whole place went up. Someone set it on fire deliberately. He’d shoot at me because I’m a witness.”
“You fled a crime scene?”
“Don’t say it like that, as if I’m the one who committed the crime. I’m not. I was only trying to help a friend. Then I panicked.”
“First, I’m going to call in this shooting,” he said, and she opened her mouth to protest. “A report has to be filed about this. It’s nonnegotiable. Then you’re going to walk me through exactly what happened after you spoke to Haley tonight.”
Gritting her teeth, she relented with a nod. “But I don’t want the report filed with the Laramie PD. If you’ve got to call this in, do it with the sheriff’s office. Deal?”
One LPD officer in her home and another possibly shooting at her was more than enough. She didn’t want to involve any more.
“I can live with that.”
CHARLIERELIVEDTHEdetails of the evening for Brian, enduring his relentless barrage of questions as he tried to pick apart her story.
“Then the cabin exploded. I was knocked out for a minute or two from the blast. When I came to, I left.” There had been fiery debris everywhere. Strewn across the yard. Covering Haley’s car. She was lucky to be alive.
“You didn’t actually witness anything other than arson,” he finally said, standing beside her in the kitchen.
“What about all of the blood in the house?” She took another sip of scotch from her freshly poured glass. This was heronly drink in case of emergency or celebrationbottle of Glenfiddich. The night called for two more fingers worth. “I’m telling you it’s from a dead body. Haley’s.”
“But you didn’t see a body, did you?” he asked.
“No, but Haley’s missing. She’s not answering her phone and her car was at the house. It was blown up in the explosion.”
“Maybe she got the drop on her husband. Did something to him. Used his car to transport the body. Then set the fire.”
“Seth Olsen is no featherweight. Haley is a hundred and twenty soaking wet. Seth’s got to weigh at least as much as you.” She estimated two hundred pounds of muscle easy. “She couldn’t have disposed of a body on her own. Why would she even try, knowing that I was on the way?”
