The Witness

enough to try, so he’s charged with assault on a police officer. I guess you and Boyd can take the pair of them in. I’ll be along shortly.”
    “All right, Chief. Sorry for the trouble, Ms. Lowery.”
    “You didn’t cause it, Deputy Hyderman.”
    Brooks stepped over to her. “Why don’t you take Bert and go on inside? I’ll be in in just a couple minutes.”
    “Yes.” She signaled to the dog and went back the way she’d come.
    In the kitchen, she rewarded Bert with one of his favorite cookies, then put on coffee. She considered a moment, then opened a container to put human cookies on a plate.
    Somehow it seemed like the right thing to do. She sat at the table and watched Brooks and the others on the monitor. The boy he’d called Doyle cried a little, but she found she couldn’t feel any sympathy. Justin remained sullen, snarling like a bad dog, in her opinion, sneering out of eyes she expected would be swollen and bruised from the broken nose shortly.
    Once the prisoners were secured in the back of the first deputy’s cruiser, Brooks spoke to his men for another moment, then said something that made them laugh.
    Breaking the tension, she deduced. Yes, that would be a sign of a good leader. She started to rise and go unlock the front door, but saw Brooks head toward the back as she had. Instead she walked over and poured his coffee, adding the sugar as he liked it.
    He stepped in, saw the plate. “Cookies?”
    “I thought you might want something.”
    “I might. I’ve got to go in and deal with this.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    He picked up his coffee, took a cookie. “I don’t have to ask if you’re all right. Steady as a rock, right on through it.”
    “He’s a stupid, violent boy, but we were never in any real danger. You might have been cut, which would’ve been upsetting. Was he right?”
    “Who, and about what?”
    “Justin Blake, when he said you wouldn’t shoot him.”
    Biting into the cookie, Brooks leaned back in that easy way he had. “Mostly. If I’d had to, yeah, but I didn’t have to. Better all around. Would you have shot him?”
    “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. “I’d wondered if I could or would, as he’s young and stupid, but yes. If he’d cut you, I would have. But you have excellent reflexes, and he telegraphed his move, and was slow due, I suspect, to drugs or alcohol. You weren’t afraid.”
    “You gave me a moment, initially. I told you to stay inside.”
    “And I told you I didn’t need or want to be protected. It’s my property, and I was armed.”
    “As always.” He took another bite of the cookie.
    “Added to that, though nothing registered on the monitor, I wanted to be sure there wasn’t a third who might have flanked you.”
    “I appreciate it.”
    “You should soak that shirt before the stain sets.”
    “I’ve got a spare at the station. Abigail, I’m going to need for you to give a statement. You can come in, or I can send one of my men to take it here.”
    “Oh. Yes, of course. I couldn’t give you the statement under the circumstances.”
    “No.”
    “I think I’d prefer to go in. I could do it now.”
    “Morning’s fine.”
    “If I came in now, it would be done. I’d rather it be done. I’ll change and drive in now.”
    “I can wait for you.”
    “That’s all right. You should go now, do what you need to do.”
    “Yeah. The way you handled this makes me think you’ve handled trouble before. I’m hoping you’ll trust me enough to tell me about that someday soon.”
    Wanting the link, she curled her fingers around his wrists for a moment. “If I could tell anyone, it would be you.”
    “Okay, then.” He set the coffee down, took her face in his hands and kissed her. “Thanks for the backup. And the cookie.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    T HIRTY MINUTES BEHIND B ROOKS , Abigail walked into the station. The older deputy—Boyd Fitzwater, she remembered—immediately got up from his desk and came around to meet her.
    “Ms. Lowery, we sure appreciate you coming in like this. The chief’s in his office, talking to the prosecutor and all. I’m going to take your statement.”
    “Yes.”
    “You want some coffee, something cold?”
    “No, thank you.”
    “We can sit down right here. Should be quiet. Ash is back with the paramedic we called in to treat the Blake boy’s nose.” He smiled when he said it. “It’s busted good.”
    “I’m sure a broken nose is preferable to a bullet. I believe Chief Gleason would