Crossroads by Jeanne C. Stein Read Free Book Online Page A

Tracey still has the temporary restraining order in her pocket, which adds credence.
    By the time our hands are freed, Miriam has gone into shock. Tracey is told she can take her home. I’m told I can accompany a detective downtown to give yet another statement.
    The wheels of bureaucracy creak round and round.
    Tracey stops to thank me, but I wave it aside.
    “Take care of your sister. Stay with her for as long as she needs you. David and I can handle everything at the office.”
    She smiles. “Maybe we should consider adding process server to our curriculum vitae.”
    “Might liven things up.”
    She glances down at the corpse of her ex-brother-in-law. I think if no one was watching, she’d kick the bastard. Instead she walks stiffly away and moves off to join her sister.
    At the same time she’s leaving, another familiar face is approaching through the throng of cops gathered around the door. He heads straight for me.
    Shit. Detective Harris. I was hoping to avoid having to repeat the story yet again. I release a breath, huff, “What took you so long?”
    Harris looks at me with raised eyebrows. “I heard what happened. Knew there couldn’t possibly be more than one Anna Strong.” He walks over to the body. The medical examiner is off to one side making notes. He and Harris nod to each other. Then Harris kneels down for a closer look. “Nice shot.”
    “Couldn’t miss. We were nose to nose.”
    “Heard that, too. How’d you pull that off?” He stands again and aims his squint-eyed Dirty Harry cop stare right at me. “A guy with an AK-47 and you manage to close the distance between a counter fifty feet away and the shooter without drawing fire. What are you, faster than a speeding bullet?”
    It’s grown quiet around us. The two women who were hiding behind the counter look away when they see me turning in their direction. What did they tell the police?
    The truth, most likely. I am faster than a speeding bullet.
    What can I tell the police? The same thing I’ve said three times before.
    I raise my shoulders. “You know how it is when the adrenaline is pumping. People do things they couldn’t do in normal circumstances.”
    Harris lets a beat go by. “You give a statement?”
    “To every fucking cop you see. I’m still invited to headquarters. Anything you can do about that?”
    Harris motions to one of the other detectives. “You need anything else from Ms. Strong?”
    The detective looks at his notes. “Nah. Nothing now. She can go.”
    Harris turns back to me; a half smile touches his mouth. “And I know where to find you if we need anything else, don’t I?”
    I’m tempted to crack wise and suggest that he remember the donuts the next time he drops by. But he’s helping me get out of here. Best not to press my luck. I nod my thanks and turn to go.
    He stops me with a hand on my arm. “Are you all right? Do you need a ride home?”
    Those are the questions he’s asking. He wants to know something else. A normal human being who just killed someone would be showing some emotion. He wants to know why I’m not.
    I could fake it. Probably should. Instead, I tell him the truth. “He killed an innocent man. He would have killed Tracey’s sister. What would you have done in my place?”
    Harris allows a rare, real, honest-to-God smile. His only answer. Then, “I’ll see you get your gun back as soon as forensics is finished with it.”
    “I appreciate it.” I start for the door. Harris stops me again and jerks a thumb toward the back.
    “Better go out that way. There’s a shitload of reporters waiting out front.”
    He saved me again. That’s three times now. If this keeps out, I might start to like the man.
    Suddenly I’m glad Stephen is out of town. He’s one reporter I would have a hard time shaking.

CHAPTER 7
     
    T HIS IS NOT THE WAY I INTENDED TO SPEND THE day. I keep seeing Harris’ expression when he asked me if I was all right. It haunts me all the way back to the cottage.