The Witness

out.”
    “You know, you’re making me wonder why you’re so hell-bent on keeping me out of the house. You running a meth lab, a bordello, running guns, making explosives?”
    “I’m doing nothing of the sort.” Her hair, a blunt, shoulder-skimming drape of golden brown, swung out as she turned. “I don’t
know
you.”
    “Brooks Gleason, chief of police.”
    Yes, she decided, anyone who could deliver sarcasm with such a pleasant drawl, such an easygoing smile, had skills.
    “Your name and occupation don’t change the fact I don’t know you.”
    “Point taken. But you’ve got a big-ass dog there who’s giving me the stink eye because he knows you’re upset and I’m the reason. He must go a hundred and twenty pounds.”
    “One thirty-three.”
    Brooks gave Bert a long study. “I’ve got about thirty pounds on him, but he’s got sharper teeth and you’ve got a sidearm.”
    “So do you.” She shoved the door open, and when Brooks stepped inside, she held up a hand. “I want you to wait here. I’m going to puthim on guard. He’ll restrain you if you don’t stay here. You have no right to wander around my house.”
    “All right.”
    “Bert. Hold.” She turned to the stairs, started up.
    “Define ‘restrain.’”
    Nearly out of patience—the police chief appeared to have more than his share—she paused, snapped, “Stay where you are and you won’t have to find out.”
    “Okay, then.” He let out a breath as she disappeared up the stairs. He and the dog eyed each other. “So, Bert, what do you do around here for fun? Not talking, huh? Nice place.” Cautious, Brooks stood very still, turned only his head. “No muss, no fuss.”
    And triple locks, a riot bar, secured windows, top-grade alarm system.
    Who the hell was Abigail Lowery, and what—or whom—was she afraid of?
    She came back down, a document in hand, gave it to him.
    “A Glock 19? That’s a serious gun.”
    “All guns are serious.”
    “You’re not wrong.” He handed the license back to her, looked into her eyes. “And you’re not wrong that you don’t know me. I can give you the name of my former captain in Little Rock. I was on the police force there for ten years before I moved back home. I’m a good cop, Abigail. If you tell me what kind of trouble you’re in, I’ll try to help you.”
    Chief Gleason wasn’t the only one with skills, she reminded herself. Her gaze and her voice remained absolutely steady and level. “I’m not in trouble. I’m just living my life. I have work to do, and I’m sure you have work to do. I’d like you to leave now.”
    “All right. If you change your mind.” He took out a card, set it on a table by the front door. “My cell number’s on it, too. If you want help, you just call.”
    “I don’t need help.”
    “You’ve got a riot bar and three top-grade locks on your front door, security bars on your windows, and a better alarm system than my bank. I don’t think all that’s to keep the dog from getting out.”
    He opened the front door, turned back to look at her. “Do you like puzzles?”
    “Yes, but I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
    “I like them, too. See you around, Bert.” He shut the door.
    Abigail stepped over, locked it, then, closing her eyes, knelt on the floor and pressed her face to the dog’s strong neck.

8
     
    B OYD F ITZWATER, GRIZZLE-HAIRED AND PAUNCHY, MANNED the desk. He stopped chicken-pecking at the computer keyboard when Brooks walked by.
    “Missy Crew came around. Like you’d expect, last night’s black eye was an accident. She got creative this time. Said she tripped on the rug and Ty tried to catch her.”
    “She fell into his fist?”
    “That’s just what she said. And him being a little drunk, he miscalculated when he tried to catch her.”
    “And the neighbor calling us in because she ran out of the house half-naked and screaming?”
    “That?” With a tight smile, Boyd shook his head. “She saw a mouse, and not the one on her eye. Overreacted, and the neighbor shouldn’t have bothered us. And before you ask, the reason she said Ty socked her last night is she was all confused. Because technically he did, but only trying to save her from a fall.”
    “You let him go?”
    “Couldn’t much do otherwise.”
    “No, but this crap is going to stop. The next call we get on them, I want whoever’s on duty to call me. I want to handle it.”
    “You’re welcome to it. I tried, Brooks. Even had Alma talk to her,