Page 49 of Over the Edge

“Who’s Pop?”

Chad didn’t answer her question—but the detective did.

“He’s a street person, Ms. Allen. A Vietnam vet whose real name is Henry Finn. Your husband met him at Al’s Diner this morning.”

Dara looked at her husband. “Is that true?”

“Yes.” He responded to her, then refocused on the detective. “But I never gave him any jewelry.”

“I have the bracelet he tried to pawn.” Detective Tucker maintained a conversational tone. “It belonged to the victim’s wife. He said it came from you.”

“I didn’t steal it—and I didn’t give it to Pop.”

“What’s your relationship with him?” Their uninvited visitor pulled out a notebook.

Chad’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “You mind if we sit?”

“Not at all.” The detective reclaimed his chair.

“Dara, do you ... do you want to join us?” Chad twisted toward her.

She looked at the man she’d married, felt the almost-palpable fear radiating from him, and heard the real questions he was asking.

Did she believe in him? Trust him? Was she willing to stand beside him through whatever ordeal lay ahead? Or was she going to assume the worst and turn her back on him when he needed her most, as so many other people in his life had?

Dara drew a shaky breath.

Maybe she was being foolish. Her father would think so. But she’d lived with this man for nine months. Loved him with her whole heart. Learned about the demons that had plagued him, about all he’d overcome to start a new life. Knew him better than she’d known many people who’d been part of her world far longer. And her intuition said that whatever trouble he was in wasn’t of his making.

Slowly she walked over to him and placed her hand in his.

He clung to her fingers, the gratitude in his eyes tightening her throat as he tugged her down beside him and drew her close.

The detective positioned his pen over the notebook. “Tell me about Pop.”

Chad let out a slow exhale. “He saved my life on the street.Literally. It’s a rough place, and early on I was out of my element. He stepped into an altercation that could have left me dead. Everyone on the street knew and respected him, and the other guy backed off. After that, Pop sort of adopted me. Taught me the ropes. Helped me survive. I owe him a debt I can never repay.”

“Except with stolen jewelry.”

“No!” Chad’s posture stiffened. “Like I said, I don’t know anything about that.”

“He said it came from you.”

“He told me that this morning.” Chad’s grip on her fingers tightened, and Dara squeezed his in return. “I assume you had a tail on him. That’s how you found me.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know who passed that jewelry on to him. All I can tell you is it wasn’t me.”

“Why would someone pretend it was?”

“Maybe the real murderer wants to throw suspicion on Chad.” Dara leaned forward. No one had asked her to participate in this conversation, but she couldn’t remain mute while someone insinuated that her husband had committed a vile crime.

Chad nodded. “That’s my take too. Who better to pin a murder rap on, right? A former homeless person who was on the premises the day of the crime.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, dejection radiating from him. “The perfect fall guy.”

The detective didn’t weigh in on that comment. “How often do you visit Pop?”

“Every couple of weeks.”

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