Page 10 of Mistletoe and Malice
“You’re right. I’m so thankful you’re still here with us.” Avery’s attention moved to the archway from the entry hall, and her eyes widened as a man wearing a suit and tie with a badge clipped to his belt entered behind Riley’s mother.
“Riley, honey, the detective is here.” Her mother turned to the officer. “Can I get you something, Detective? Coffee? Water?”
“No, but thank you,” he answered. “I’ve had about four cups too many already today.”
“I’ll leave you be, then.” She smiled over at Riley. “Let me know if you girls need anything.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Riley stood and extended her hand to the officer. “I’m Riley Hudson.”
He shook her hand and released it. “Good evening. Detective John Stapleton. Houston PD. I apologize for the late hour, but I was on another call and couldn’t get away.”
Not a new story. In her line of work, she was well aware the Houston police were overworked and understaffed. A large part of what she would be asserting in Shane’s appeal. The police considered the scene, the man standing over the body of his dead girlfriend with her blood soaking his shirt and covering his hands, and made a snap decision. Open and shut.
And wrong.
Riley gestured to the others. “These are my friends, Frances, Barbara, and Avery. Avery saw the guy as he got away.”
Her friend finally recovered from her stupor. “Y-yes, Detective. I got a pretty good look at him.”
The detective stared at her stunning friend, clearly enthralled, as many before him had been. “And you’re Avery …?”
“Avery Sanders.”
“Miss Sanders.” His dark eyes lingered before he cleared his throat, his pen poised over a small notebook. “You saw what happened?”
“Only after Riley did whatever she did that had him limping away like a dog with his tail between his legs.”
Detective Stapleton’s eyebrow rose as he regarded Riley. “And that was?”
Riley’s face warmed. “Kicked him in the knee with the heel of my boot. An elbow to the nose. Then another kick to his arm so he’d let go of the gun. Oh, and he should have some decent welts on his hand. I think I scratched him up pretty good.”
He consulted his notes again. “Right. I see the officers at the scene took scrapings of your nails.”
“A little more than that.” She held up her hands with their now much shorter, pink-painted nails.
“Yeah, sorry about that.”
She folded her arms. “Not worried about it. Hopefully, they’ll find something there that will help.”
He grimaced. “You should be aware, it can take several weeks to get DNA results back. It’s not like it is on TV. And then it’s only good if this guy’s in the system.”
“Oh, trust me, Detective. I’m well aware.” Meaning her attacker was free to terrorize other young women for who knew how long. Her empty stomach roiled.
“So, let’s start at the beginning. Tell me what you were doing, what time, where you were, and what he did.”
Her legs turned once again to spaghetti, so she sat in the chair Fran had vacated to recount the events she hoped wouldn’t haunt her dreams tonight. Twisting, twisting, twisting the ring that had belonged to her paternal grandmother. A nervous habit. When she got to the part about Logan running to her rescue, he consulted his notes.
“Logan … Devers. Yes, I have the statement he gave to the officer at the scene this afternoon and plan to interview him tomorrow afternoon.”
“After church?” Avery asked.
His gaze went back to her friend. “Pardon?”
“I see you wear a cross lapel pin. May I ask if you’re a man of faith, Detective?”
“I am.” A furrow creased his forehead. “Why?”
“It means so much more to us to have a praying man working on this for Riley. You will pray about it, right?”
