Alex Harris 00 - Armed

sly grin, eating a sandwich while that damned shovel leaned against his desk, and me sitting in a cell watching him.
    My shoulders sagged in defeat but I managed a small smile. “Yes. I can come tomorrow.” I gathered up my things and left.

CHAPTER TWELVE

    Light snow coated my windshield. Wipers on, I pulled out of the parking lot and pointed my car in the direction of the town center. I didn’t want to go back to my office and a barrage of questions. I needed a walk and I knew just where I wanted to go.
    The roads had been cleared, making driving easy, but I took my time, which irritated an impatient driver behind me. A mile past the mannequin factory, the road opened up to two lanes. The driver sped up and passed me, but not before making his disapproval of my driving skills known.
    I grew up in Indian Cove. I loved the surrounding towns that all seemed to melt into one. Sometimes I thought about moving, but deep down I knew I would stay the rest of my life. Connecticut’s size made it easy to reach any destination in no time at all. And if I felt like going somewhere more than a few hours away, I could just pack a bag and head for the airport. But right now it was Christmas and I liked nothing better than looking at all the decorations in our little town center.
    After several more miles and a couple of turns, I found myself in the center of Indian Cove. The surrounding area had been built up with a shopping mall, supermarkets, and business centers, but the downtown section had remained much the same. The shopkeepers took pride in their little bit of heaven and during the holidays all the windows got decorated to the fullest.
    The festivities started at Halloween when the local schools held contests to see who would paint the various shop windows. I had won one such contest in eighth grade. My design of a witch flying across the moon on her broom high above a graveyard, complete with ghosts poking out from behind the headstones, had been painted on the window at the drug store. But more importantly, it had beaten out Carla Bruggestrat’s entry. Carla always won everything but not that year.
    ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas, a particular favorite, had won out this year. The city center consisted of only two blocks with shops on either side. A pharmacy, expanded into a vacant shop, came first followed by several boutiques, a men’s shop, a bakery, and a small newsstand selling papers from all over the country and a few journals from Europe. A few other businesses filled the main street with the library at the corner and from there you could either turn right and go out toward some new apartment buildings and a small medical center or turn left and head for the Sound.
    A pond at the top of the main street across from the high school served as the city’s skating rink. Several children whirled around on skates. It stayed cold I would have to dig out my own on Sunday.
    I found a parking space and took a leisurely walk, passing the travel agent. I stopped to admire brochures advertising far away tropical islands, mentally berating myself for not traveling more. The only islands I had been to bore the names of Ellis, Staten, Liberty, and Manhattan. Not very exotic. I continued down the sidewalk to Kruger’s Grocery.
    I bought a few necessities and went next door to the bakery for fresh croissants. On my way back to my car, I spied a red sweater that would look lovely on my gray-haired mother, and entered the boutique.
    Two women stood by the counter and talked about the murder. A murder in Indian Cove caused a lot of concern. I edged a bit closer hoping to hear some gossip.
    “Never in all my years, and heavens knows that’s a lot of years, has something like this happened,” an elderly customer said to the clerk. “I locked my back door last night. First time. Forgot all about my husband coming home. He always comes in through the back after putting the car in the garage. About scared me half to death when he tried to get in.” The woman clutched her ample chest and gave a hearty laugh.
    The clerk nodded in agreement. “I’m a little nervous about letting my girls play outside. They wanted to go skating tonight, but the pond is too far for me to keep a good eye on them. I’ll have to bring them over myself this weekend.”
    I wandered slowly to the display of sweaters and had picked one up when a voice startled me.
    “Alex? What are you doing here?”
    I turned to see Sandy Knap, the order desk