Hostile Witness (Sanctuary, Inc. #1)

Chapter 18

18

T ia turned the radio down once she saw the police lights in her rearview mirror. Surely the lights weren’t meant for her... but the vehicle directly behind turned left, and the cop car stayed on her tail. Turning on her right blinker, she slowed down and pulled as close to the curb as possible. This wasn’t the safest place to pull over on this road. It had no shoulder lane and irrigation ditches on both sides.

Only a minute ago, her speedometer had been reading in the thirty-mile-an-hour range. Maybe she’d been off a little, but she hadn’t been driving fast or stupid.

Tia fumbled for her license as the officer approached her car. She didn’t recognize him. Of all the crappy luck, to end up with an officer she didn’t know. Flynn was dozing in the cushioned back-seat domain she’d coined the boot .

Why had the cop stopped her? Tia let her window halfway down and turned the car off.

“Evening, ma’am. May I see your license and registration please?” The cop aimed his flashlight at her face, effectively blinding her.

“Certainly, Officer.” She shielded her eyes from his invasive flashlight. It wasn’t dusk yet and the sun was still out. “I need to go in the glove box for my registration.”

“Slowly, please.”

The registration and insurance information were in an accessible pouch, and Tia quickly handed them over. She was just about to ask the guy if he would aim his flashlight away from her eyes when there was a low, primitive growl—an unearthly sound, unlike anything she’d heard before.

Flynn suddenly leaped into the front seat and landed with paws on her back and legs, barking and seething like a feral animal.

What on earth?

She was pinned and unable to move. His claws tore at her blouse and the bare flesh on her thighs as he repeatedly snapped at the officer through the half-open driver’s window. He relentlessly crammed his snout and scrabbling right paw through the small opening.

She caught a glimpse of a baton in the air and grabbed the dog’s torso, heaving with all her might to shove him out of the way. Flynn wouldn’t budge, and the baton clipped his front paw. He whimpered only a second, then resumed growling and scratched at the door like his life depended on getting outside.

The officer continued jabbing at the driver’s side window with his baton. Flynn took several hits to the mouth and head, but kept snarling.

“Your fucking dog bit me. Subdue him, or I will.”

“I’m trying,” she shouted, although she doubted he heard her over Flynn’s carrying-on.

The next time the baton came through the opening in the window, Tia grabbed it with both hands and yanked with all her might. It broke free from the officer’s grasp.

Flynn scrambled into the passenger seat, clawing at the windshield. Tia pulled him back by the harness. Why was he doing this? He’d barely finished recovering from his injuries. He’d never disobeyed her before now.

The dog wheeled around and growled at her. She froze. Flynn uttered the most soul-wrenching whine and stared right into her eyes.

What is it, buddy?

He was trying to tell her something, but she had no idea how to interpret his signal. Flynn ripped his gaze from her eyes, clamped down on her leather purse, and shook it violently.

The officer banged on the passenger window of the car. “Subdue your fucking dog, lady.” As the guy walked the perimeter of her car, Flynn leaped from seat to seat, snarling like a wolf that’d picked up the scent of blood. Tia pressed the lock button. If the man opened the door, he didn’t stand a chance. He had no idea Flynn was a trained K9.

The officer slammed his fist down on the hood of her car and held up a bleeding hand. “See this? Get the fuck out of here. If I ever see that dog again, I’ll kill it.”

She didn’t need telling twice. Tia tossed the cop’s baton out the window. Flynn was still growling as the officer climbed into his car and turned off his police lights. Her hands shook while she jammed the key in the ignition. The car lurched forward, throwing gravel, and she sped down the road.

A mile later, Tia pulled into a convenience store and parked in the back lot. She faced Flynn, who still stood in the front passenger seat.

“What in the hell was that about? Get in the back seat!”

Oh my goodness, she shouldn’t be screaming at him. If only she could’ve read his mind back there. That look was a genuine plea for... what? What? Shit. She didn’t know, but something. The dog lowered his haunches onto the passenger seat and set his head on the dashboard.

“No, Flynn! Get in the back seat,” she yelled, pointing. He barked once and stared at her but didn’t move. He looked like he had no intention of sitting in the back ever again.

Ethan got out of his truck at Tia’s house and peered inside her half-open Kia window. Flynn was sitting in the front passenger seat. “Are you all right?”

Tia lifted her head from the steering wheel and ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I think so. I’m not sure if I’ve lost control of him, and I wanted you here in case he tries to bolt when I open the door.” Tossing a hand in the air, she gave a bitter laugh. “You’re his dog father. Maybe you can make some sense of his behavior today.”

“What happened?”

“We were stopped by a patrolman out on Holly Knoll Road. I still don’t understand why the guy stopped me. I know I wasn’t speeding.” She jerked her head in the dog’s direction. “But Flynn decided he didn’t like the cop and totally lost his cool. He bit the man’s hand and then the cop hit Flynn with his baton.” She hugged her chest. “Flynn whimpered when the baton hit. I have no idea how bad he’s hurt. Would you help me get him out of the car? For all I know, he’ll run. He hasn’t been obeying me since the traffic stop.”

Ethan shoved his car keys into a pocket. “Where’s his leash?”

She leaned over and reached toward the passenger floor. The back of her light-blue blouse had blood spots all over it. Good God, what the hell had happened to her back? “Here it is.” She held it up.

“Clip it onto his harness, and feed it to me through the passenger-side window. That way, I’ll have control of him and you can get out.”

She nodded, let the passenger window down a few inches, and tossed the thick leash in Ethan’s direction.

He caught it. “Okay, I’ve got him. Take your time and get out. Maybe you could open the front door for us?”

Tia gathered her things and made a beeline for the door. Within seconds, she was inside.

Ethan braced himself, opened the door, and whistled for Flynn. The dog stepped onto the blacktop, limped to his favorite tree, and relieved himself. Then the sniffing began. Ethan walked the perimeter of Tia’s house, allowing Flynn to lead the way with his nose to the ground. Every direction the dog tugged, Ethan followed. Flynn widened his search the second time, sniffing back by the fence line and in the pine trees framing the property. Seemingly satisfied, the dog headed for the front door.

Ethan sat down on the front stoop and examined Flynn’s paws. He had three broken claws, which explained the pronounced limp that had persisted throughout the sniffing tour of the yard. While Ethan ruffled his coat and praised him, Flynn recoiled at a stroke to his snout. A trip to the vet would be a good idea.

He looked the K9 in the eye. “I don’t know what freaked you out, but whatever it was, you were working, huh? Let’s go see how your girl’s doing.”

He found Tia in the kitchen with one bare leg propped up on a kitchen chair. Ethan stood back and enjoyed the view. The woman had gorgeous legs, long and shapely, supple and strong. Their kiss in the garden had been hot, but then she’d tried to fix him up with one of her teacher friends. He could only conclude that she wasn’t interested in him. Ethan turned away. This weak moment would pass even though his resolve to resist her was slipping, bit by tempting bit. Nice legs. Now move on. His dick protested, but such was life.

Tia hissed through her teeth as she dabbed peroxide on the gashes above her knee. “Son of a gun, that hurts.”

Ethan took a quick look at her leg. “Some of those cuts are deep. You might need stitches.”

She waved him off. “Don’t say that to me. I do not need stitches.”

“Can I get you a warm towel or something?”

Tia glanced at him. “No, thanks. It’s enough that I interrupted your day because I can’t control my dog. Thanks for coming over. I didn’t want him getting loose and hurting someone or himself. I’ve never had an animal lose their crap like that.”

“Exactly what happened, and how did you get those cuts?”

She threw her hands in the air. “How? I’ll tell you how. You know those movies that are set in a big city, and the cabbie is sitting in the car just minding their own business in front of a building and then wham, a body falls through the windshield? Well, that’s how I got these cuts. The officer approached my window, I handed him my license and registration, and out of nowhere Flynn growled like a seething werewolf and leaped over the seat landing half on my back and his other half in my lap. I’ve never heard an animal sound that threatening in my life. I definitely picked the wrong day to wear a skirt and blouse to school.”

She snatched a clean towel from a drawer and murmured, “But it was such a pretty day, you know? There was that hint of a warm spring in the air, and I woke up to the faint scent of my lilac bush in the backyard. I don’t want to be mad at Flynn, so it’s the lilac bush’s fault I have cuts all over my legs.”

“How could you possibly smell the lilac bushes from inside?” He already knew he wasn’t going to like her answer.

“Because I sleep with the bedroom window open a few inches.”

Ethan shook his head. “Tia, there’s a murderer out there. Have you no sense of self-preservation?”

“Really?” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “So I shouldn’t sleep with my second-story bedroom window open? Do you think the murderer has climbing abilities, too? Let me tell you something. I allowed another person to control my life once upon a time. Never again. If the sick creep who killed Margie Plante wants to scale the side of my house to get to my open bedroom window, then he or she will eat the barrel of my shotgun.”

“Shotguns are slow when the seconds count.”

“Then I’d use the handgun under my spare pillow.”

Whoa. Touché. His resolve to stay single slipped and fell on a banana peel. How hot would it be to remove a gun from her bed? Scorching. Whew! Good to know in case he ever stayed overnight. A guy could dream. He would be prudent to disarm the bed first.

Ethan shook off the mental picture. There was no way they’d ever sleep together.

He changed the subject. “How’s your back?”

“It hurts. Flynn and I were a tangled mess after he leaped into the front seat. Why?”

“There are bloodstains on your blouse. Maybe take it off so I can see how bad you’re hurt, and I’ll clean you up.”

She arched her eyebrows. “I’m not taking my blouse off.”

He dipped his head and silently counted to three. “Not like take it all off . You can cover up with something, but if you aren’t willing to go to a clinic, someone has to disinfect your back.”

Her mouth rounded to a perfect O. “Gotcha. Right.” She went upstairs and returned wearing a high-neck backless beach cover-up.

Come to think of it, he’d never seen her with a button undone or showing a hint of cleavage. It was unusual behavior for a woman as attractive as her. He hadn’t thought much of it until now, but she almost always wore a turtleneck, a button-down, or a zip up that completely covered every inch of her front. Why? And the last thing he needed to be thinking about was her chest, so he chucked the thoughts into the recycle bin with the previous leg thoughts and hoped he could forget about the freaking gun in the bed, because last night he’d relived every sexy detail of the yard kiss and hadn’t been able to sleep.

Sliding onto a counter stool, she held out a pair of latex gloves and the peroxide. “Go easy. I looked in the mirror. There are a lot of them, and they hurt.”

He grabbed a wad of cotton balls and counted the dime-size cuts on her back. There were twenty-three of them to be exact. After soaking the cotton in peroxide, he dabbed at the dried blood. “Flynn didn’t mean to hurt you. He was working and even investigated your yard before he came in tonight.”

She gasped when the peroxide bubbled. “ What do you mean... working?”

“He was protecting you and didn’t have enough room in the front seat. A dog like him will lay his body across yours to shield you.”

“It was just a traffic stop. Why on earth would Flynn feel the need to protect me from a police officer?”

“I’m not sure, but I have a working theory.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “What kind of theory?”

“It was on the late news last night. Someone impersonating a policeman has stopped a number of our citizens. He’s roughed up a few people, threatened and taken money from others. Dispatch has no record of these stops. Every officer lets dispatch know their location when they initiate a traffic stop. It’s for their safety in case they need backup or someone needs medical care. I called dispatch, and there haven’t been any recorded traffic stops on Holly Knoll Road in the past eight hours. ”

Her body went rigid. “What?”

“For a couple of weeks, we’ve known we have a murderer and an imposter cop out there. We’ve been treating the cases as separate incidents because until now, there wasn’t a point of intersection to tie them together.” He reached for a fresh clump of cotton balls. “Flynn is the only one who knows who killed Margie Plante, and let’s not forget that the killer also beat him within an inch of his life. A smart dog like him won’t ever forget the scent or the voice of that killer.”

“Stop.” Tia spun her counter stool around. “So Margie’s killer and the guy who stopped me are the same person?”

The shock on her face was obvious. He’d go easy. “It’s possible. Let’s just say I’m thinking it through at the moment. Why else would Flynn go berserk over something as benign as a traffic stop? My theory makes sense.”

Tia shook her head slowly. “I may have been stopped by Margie’s killer. I’m glad I didn’t know then what I know now.”

Ethan cocked his head. “Why was Flynn with you? Didn’t you have school today?”

“Yes, I had school, but I ran home afterward, picked up Flynn, and took him to Harlan Brinker’s farm to run with his hounds. Flynn loves those dogs, and the socialization and exercise do him good.” She shook her head. “All this happened because I wanted to be a good dog mom.”

His fingers had stilled. “You know Harlan?”

She laughed. “Duh—I’m a local. Everyone knows Harlan. I baked an apple cake for him last night and dropped it off while the dogs had their run. Harlan loves my apple cake.”

“You bake?” He couldn’t believe it. Where the hell did she keep the milk and eggs? The refrigerator was always empty.

Her voice lowered to a scold. “Yes, I bake. I’ve even been known to mix pasta salad in a bowl and use a cast-iron skillet on occasion. But it’s more fun to bake for somebody else. When I bake for myself, I eat the whole thing and worry about getting fat.”

Fat she was not, but he understood the sentiment. “Well, anytime you feel like baking, just let me know, and I’ll pick up the ingredients and eat the finished product with you. Then we’ll only get half as fat together.” The word together stopped him from teasing her more. What was happening to him? He hadn’t wanted together with anyone since his divorce. He thought back to what they’d been talking about before Harlan and the apple cake.

“Did you get a good look at the guy?”

“Not really. He approached me from behind—came up alongside my window and blinded me with his flashlight even though it was daytime.” She closed her eyes and paused a moment. “I guess I did get a brief look. It was when he walked around the car screaming how Flynn had bitten him and I needed to subdue my dog. At one point, he smashed his hand down on the hood of the car.” She turned around, set her elbows on the counter, and rubbed her forehead. “All I can remember about his looks is that he’s tall and has a sharp nose. His hat covered most of his features, and he wore sunglasses. The mirrored kind.”

That was something. “Did you notice if he was overweight, had a paunchy gut?”

“No, he wasn’t heavyset. He was kind of like you but not as built.”

A surprise jolt of lust coursed through his abs. “You think I’m built?”

She laughed. “He didn’t have a broad chest and big arms like you do. He definitely wasn’t as muscular as you.”

“You’ve noticed my muscles?” He couldn’t resist pushing the issue a little.

Tia rolled her eyes. “Stop fishing for compliments. You know you have muscles. It’s obvious you work out.”

“I stay in shape for my job, but I had no idea you were looking.”

“I’m not blind, just keeping my distance.”

Ethan soaked a few more cotton balls and kept dabbing. “And why is that?” Ooh, he was playing with fire now.

She sighed deep and long. “A year ago, I was in a very dark place, and I’m not going back there. Besides, you’ve probably heard all about it at the precinct since you’ve been there a year.”

“Haven’t heard a peep.”

“Well, that’s unusual for gossip central, but encouraging. Maybe it’s all behind me.” She shivered. “Are you almost done? I’m freezing, and I should check Flynn.”

He disinfected the final two cuts. “All done. Flynn’s got three broken claws and flinched when I touched his snout.”

She slid off the kitchen stool. “Poor thing. I tried so hard to keep him from the window, but the baton clipped him a couple of times in spite of my efforts.”

“Now that we know you’re okay, we should get him to the vet.”

“Yeah. I’ll go change and call Bayside to see if we can come in.” She wheeled around. “I can go myself. You probably need to get back to work anyway.”

After a weird incident like this, she wasn’t getting rid of him easily. “I’m the dog daddy, remember? I’ll go with you. We’ll use my truck. I’ll arrange for forensics to dust the hood of your car for fingerprints. You said the cop placed his hand on it.”

“Yes, that’s right.” She got halfway up the stairs and leaned over the banister. “Do I need to go to the precinct and give a statement?”

He whistled for Flynn and thought a second. “No. I’ll take your statement here.” Her relief was damn near palpable as she continued up the stairs. One of these days he would find out what had happened to her and why the precinct and interviews were such touchy subjects.

The house was quiet when she returned downstairs. “Ethan, when they come to dust the car, please, no police lights. My neighbors will be full of questions tomorrow if there’s a big scene.”

Yeah, well, she only had two neighbors this time of year, but he’d keep that info to himself for the time being. “You wouldn’t happen to have a floodlight to illuminate your driveway?”

She nodded. “It’s got an automatic sensor. I’ll set it on the constant mode.” Tia grabbed her purse and locked the door on their way out.

Flynn limped in discomfort, and Ethan picked him up and carried him to the back seat of the truck. As they pulled away, he turned to Tia. “You said you gave the cop your license and registration. We should dust them for prints as well. Maybe later I’ll run them to the station.”

Tia gave him a deer-in-headlights kind of look. “Would you mind turning on the inside light?” Methodically rummaging through her purse, she murmured, “I never got them back. Oh no... that cop guy still has them.”

Ethan nodded slowly and turned onto Route 90. “No problem.” But hey, it was a huge complication because now, the guy had her address.