Page 48 of Shadow Sabotage
She nodded, still worried.
“I don’t give a shit,” I said, shrugging.
“Really?” She looked shocked.
I shot her a look. “I’m a homicide detective. I don’t care what people do to relax if they aren’t hurting anyone—and I’m sure as hell not going to waste time doing paperwork to write someone up for smoking a joint.”
She threw her head back and laughed.
There was that Mozart concerto again, playing in my head against the soundtrack that was Claire Hawkins.
It was a sound I could get addicted to.
“I guess I underestimated you, too.” She smiled at me, the worry all gone.
“Apparently so.” I returned her smile. “But you’re probably right. He might be spooked by me. I’ll stay in the car. “
“Thanks. For trusting me.”
I could see that it surprised her. But what she didn’t realize was that I trusted her more than she could even know. I wouldn’t have opened up to her if I didn’t.
I winked. “Right back at you.”
I pulled back onto the road and followed her directions to a rural area with small, rundown houses spaced an acre or two apart. Half a mile down the narrow street, Claire told me to pullover. As I did, a makeshift pack of mutts crossed the road ahead of us, then watched us from the ditch.
“Is that his place?” I asked, gesturing to the blue house on our right.
“No. I’ll walk from here so he doesn’t see your vehicle.”
“You sure?” I glanced in the rearview mirror at the pack of dogs. They were all honed in on us, their bodies tense and ready to spring.
“Of course,” she said, giving me a puzzled look. “It’s not far.”
I put my hand on her forearm. “Be careful.”
She looked down at it, then lifted those green eyes to meet mine. Laughter sparkled in them. “What, are you worried about me?”
“A little,” I admitted. “Those dogs don’t look friendly.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, clearly amused. She squeezed my hand and hopped out, tucking her hands into her pockets as she walked away.
The pack of dogs ran into the road and took off toward her.
I threw my door open and put my hand on my pistol. But before I could draw it, Claire squatted, cooing to the dogs. They slowed down and approached her with their tails wagging. She said hi to all of them like she knew them, scratching them behind their ears. The biggest, scariest one of all—an intact male Rottweiler with a spiked collar around his neck—actually licked her face, then threw himself onto the ground and rolled onto his back so she could rub his belly.
She gave the dogs all the attention they wanted. Then she stood and threw me a sassy wink before sauntering down the road.
Forty-five minutes tickedby before I saw Claire emerge from a house down the street and begin walking toward me. I started the engine and drove to meet her.
“Any luck?” I asked as she climbed in.
She shook her head. “Maybe. My brother told me that Tony and Rob used to hang out together when Tony wanted to get high, so I thought I’d talk to him, find out if he’s seen Tony lately. He has, but I’m not sure how helpful any of it is.”
“Fill me in anyway,” I said, turning the SUV around so we could head back toward town.
“He and Tony hung out a few times over the summer. He said when Tony got high the first time, he started talking about Katelyn. But it sounds like Tony was feeling bitter at that point. Was angry that she’d left him for someone else after everything he’d done for her. Called her a few choice words.”
“Interesting,” I mused. “He sure didn’t talk like that when I spoke to him.”
