The Witness

don’t want what we had back then.”
    “You didn’t say that a couple weeks back when you were on top of me in my bed.”
    “No, I didn’t, and I’m sorry, Sylbie.” Plenty of sorry to go around, as far as he could see. “The sex was always good with you and me, but we never did have much else going on.”
    “What do you care, as long as you get off?”
    “Honey, you ought to think better of yourself. I do.”
    “Something’s wrong with you.” Anger and embarrassment ran color hot in her face. “You ought to want me when I’m offering.”
    “If that’s all you want, you know there are plenty who’ll be willing.”
    “But not you.”
    “No, not me.” They’d come to the end of that road, he realized, and felt little more than relief. “Not anymore. Maybe we’ll like each other better without the sex. One thing I can promise you, and you better hear me. If you ever pull a stunt like this again, you’re going to see the inside of our cells down at the station.”
    Her color stayed high, but her face went stony and cold. “You’ve changed, Brooks.”
    “God, I hope so. You’d best watch the shop until Grover gets back.” He started out, glanced back. “That’s a nice dress, Sylbie. Keep it on.”
    When he stepped out, he spotted Grover—round-bodied, stoop-shouldered and balding—puffing on a Marlboro as he sat on the bench between his shop and the next.
    “Oh, hey, there, Chief.”
    “Hey, there, Grover. Come with me.”
    “Ah …”
    “There’s a fine for calling in a false report, and you’re paying it.”
    “But I—”
    “Next time a pretty woman asks you to do something stupid, think first.”
    “But she said—”
    “You take what she said up with Sylbie. I’m saying you don’t call for help unless you need help. You don’t waste my time, or the Bickford Police Department’s time. I could put you in jail for what you did.”
    Grover’s face went splotchy, pink blooming over sick white as the man got shakily to his feet. “Jail? Holy God. I just …”
    “Don’t just ever again. Fine’s two thousand dollars.”
    He was prepared to catch Grover, should he faint, and considered it a near thing. “I-I-I—”
    “I’m cutting it down to twenty-five dollars, giving you a stupidity discount. You come in by the end of the day and pay it, or it’s back up to the two thousand. Clear?”
    “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I just thought—”
    “No, you didn’t think. Next time you will.”
    “I’ll pay it, Grover.” Sylbie stepped out. “It’s my fault. I’ll pay the fine.”
    “I don’t care where it comes from, just pay it by five.”
    “You didn’t have to scare him so bad.” Sylbie sat on the bench, drewGrover down beside her and put her arm around his stooped shoulders. “It was my fault.”
    “No argument. Pay the fine, slate’s clean.”
    Though he’d lost his appetite for cookies, he crossed to the bakery, picked up Alma’s order. He left it on her desk, went into his office and filled out the citation.
    He puzzled over the charge, then opted for “crying wolf.” It seemed to fit, and wouldn’t embarrass anyone.
    He took it out, set it beside Alma’s latte. “Either Grover or Sylbie’s coming down to pay this citation. Don’t ask.”
    “Whenever somebody hears ‘Don’t ask,’ they’re duty-bound to.”
    “Not when somebody else just bought them a latte and a chocolate macadamia cookie.”
    Alma tapped her blue-tipped nails on the go-cup. “So this is a bribe.”
    “It could be so construed. Don’t ask, Alma.” He glanced up as Ash walked in.
    “I had to run some skateboarders off the parking lot down at the bank. Again. And I pulled Doyle Parsins over for speeding. Again. Some people never learn. You got cookies?”
    “Cookie,” Alma said. “Singular. Mine.”
    “I swung by the Little League park. Saw that little Draper kid hit a solid three-bagger. And I got me a steamer. A cookie sure would top that off.”
    Alma smiled as she took a deliberate bite, rolled her eyes in pleasure. “Mmm-mmm!”
    “That’s just mean.”
    Leaving them to it, Brooks went back in his office, shut his door. He spent some time poking at Abigail Lowery—who, he discovered, had a master’s degree in computer science, and another in security engineering, both from MIT. Pretty impressive.
    It took him a while, but he learned she worked on a freelance basis for a company called Global Network.
    He switched his focus, poked at the