Page 14 of Fatal Witness

The girl rubbed Lizi’s back one more time and then nodded toward the pieces yet to be wrapped in newspaper for transporting. “Can I help you?”

“I’m almost done, but thanks.”

After the student wandered away, Dani finished packing and loaded the boxes on rolling tables the university had provided. It had been a really good workshop, and she liked connecting with the students. She also enjoyed talking about Lizi, but she was glad she didn’t have to talk to anyone until tomorrow, when she’d agreed to have breakfast with the director of the ceramic arts program.

Two hours later she let the jets from the spa bathtub massage her muscles and thought about getting one for home.

Home. The studio. Dani sat straight up. She’d been so busy she’d forgotten to check the shop’s voicemail. Hopefully she hadn’t lost any orders because of it.

As soon as she was dressed, Dani turned her cell phone on. There was a call and message from Keith thirty minutes ago. She quickly called him back. “Sorry,” she said when he answered. “I forgot to turn my phone back on after the workshops.”

“You never keep your phone on,” he complained.

“I forget ... or I forget to charge it. It’s not like anyone is going to call me on it.” Until recently, her cell phone consisted of a cheap flip phone with prepaid minutes that she’d rarely turned on. No one had the number for the smartphone that Keith bought hera month ago. She knew how to turn it on and turn it off and that was about it.

“I thought you needed a better phone.”

“I liked my old phone. It was all I needed.” Dani hated that people thought she should be accessible 24/7. She had a computer and a tablet, so why would she want a smartphone that was expensive with an equally expensive plan when she only used a cell phone for calls and a few texts?

“How are you?” she asked, softening her voice.

“Good, now that you’ll be home by Monday. What time are you leaving in the morning?”

She never told him she’d be home by Monday—he’d assumed she would be. “I’m not sure what my plans are other than I’m having breakfast with Evelyn.”

“Oh.”

She narrowed her eyes at the censure in his voice. Dani had accepted long ago that he’d never liked her teacher and mentor. “I’ll call you before I leave.”

“Good. You sound tired. Get some rest.”

“I am, and I will, and thank you for caring.” And he did care, but sometimes ...

She disconnected and padded to the coffee station in the room and picked up an herbal tea pod. Maybe that would help her sleep.

She suddenly remembered that she still needed to check her business messages. She dialed the number. The first two messages were people wanting to know about pieces featured on her website, mainly the price. The next three were people signing up for classes at her studio in June, and the last four were orders. Her eyes widened as she listened to the next one. A request from a deputy in Tennessee. Probably wanting money. Then she frowned. Scammers didn’t normally leave their badge numbers. The smooth-voiced deputy hadn’t left a landline number, only his cell.

This Mark Lassiter had credited her with having enough sense to be wary if he’d left a number claiming it was for the sheriff’s office. She listened to the message again, writing down his badge and phone number, then googled the Russell County Sheriff’s Office. They had a website, and even a Facebook page. She clicked on the website first.

The only photos on the site were of the sheriff, an older man, and the chief deputy, who was a woman. Both carried the last name of Stone. Interesting. Before she opened her Facebook app, she looked up the county’s location. Just north of Chattanooga. Why did a deputy in East Tennessee want to talk to her?

Dani clicked over to the Russell County Sheriff’s Office Facebook page and scrolled through the photos until she came to a photo gallery of deputies. She recognized the chief deputy’s photo. Alex Stone.

She clicked on each photo, smiling at the one of a beautiful German shepherd, then Dani noticed the man standing beside the dog. The caption read “Mark Lassiter and Gem.”

So the man really existed. And not only existed, but by anyone’s reckoning ought to be a model for one of those calendars of firefighters and law enforcement officers showing off their pecs and biceps. Not that Mark Lassiter was shirtless, but the black T-shirt fit his torso like a glove.

She clicked out of the photo. What was she doing, ogling the man like he was eye candy? Heat crawled up her neck, and Dani clicked out of the Facebook page and back to the website to get the number for the office. She hesitated before dialing. It was after eight. Would they be closed? Then she shook her head. Of course not—law enforcement offices didn’t close.

“Russell County Sheriff’s Office,” a woman’s voice answered.

Dani gave her name, then said, “I had a message from Mark Lassiter, who said he was a deputy there.”

“Yes, ma’am. We have a K-9 officer by that name.”

That fit the Facebook photo. She read off the cell phone and badge number she’d written down. “Can you verify that those belong to the deputy?”

“If you’ll hold, I’ll check and see.” A minute later she came back on the line. “Both numbers are correct.”

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