Witness (Otter Creek Book 1)

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Witness (Otter Creek Book 1) Page 24

by Rebecca Deel


  #

  Ethan opened the conference room door. “What did you find, Rod?”

  “Harrington is clean so far. He graduated from Baylor with a journalism degree, got his master’s at Yale, and hit the writing trail. He worked for a few small town newspapers, then moved up to the Chicago Tribune, the Boston Globe, and the Washington Post.”

  Rod flipped to the next page of his printout. “He won the Pulitzer prize in 2008 for his Post series on organized crime in the U.S.”

  “Why is he in Otter Creek working for the Gazette?” Ethan asked, puzzled.

  Rod shrugged. “Harrington told Megan he suffered from burnout and writer’s block. Says he’s trying to write a book on organized crime.”

  “Get any pictures of him?”

  “Not even a DMV hit.”

  Ethan frowned. “Must be driving on another state’s license. If nothing else pops, check Baylor’s or Yale’s yearbooks. Should be a picture of the man in one of those newspapers he worked for. Try the Washington Post first since he won the Pulitzer prize while on their payroll.”

  “I’ll see what I can dig up,” Rod said. “What about the rotation for tonight? You still on night watch?”

  “Yes.” Ethan stood. “Go home and get some rest, Rod. I have a feeling tomorrow will be interesting.”

  #

  Rod unlocked his back door, steeled himself, and stepped into the kitchen. The sterile room stared back at him. So different from the one in which he’d spent most of the morning. The corner of his lip curled. No cookies in this one. No dinner simmering on the stove. Empty. Like his life.

  Exhaustion dragged at him. He trudged down the hall to his bedroom, then unhooked his badge and holster and laid them on the dresser. Rod tugged on a pair of jeans torn at the knees and a t-shirt washed so often the color resembled more a dirty gray than white. Erin hated the bum look. But she wasn’t there to see what he wore.

  Back in the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator. Two eggs. Sour milk. Moldy bread. He should ask Serena about cooking for him. Most nights, if he made it home at all, he was too tired to nuke a frozen dinner. Why bother? They tasted like packing peanuts with sauce.

  His gaze fell on the bottom shelf. Two six packs of beer. Appetizer? Grinning at his own joke, he freed two silver cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. He popped the tab and guzzled half the first can before taking a breath. The cold liquid rejuvenated his parched tongue and throat. He doused Erin’s voice and Kayla’s laughter with the remaining beer in the can.

  He squeezed until the can crumpled in his hand, then tossed it across the kitchen to the garbage can. He grinned. Nothing but net. Hmm. That might come in handy.

  With the rest of the six pack on the coffee table, Rod settled into his recliner and flipped on the television. He surfed stations until the Atlanta Braves filled his screen. The roar of the crowd made him feel less alone in the barren house. He toasted the runner sliding across home plate, crushed the can and made another net shot.

  At the top of the third, his empty can banked off the wall, but still earned him another point. At the next station break, a commercial aired featuring a strawberry-blonde girl. Rod caught his breath. Kayla’s hair color. He stumbled to the refrigerator for the second six pack.

  #

  Ethan stood in the doorway to his office and watched Serena sleep. The long hair spilling onto his desktop made his heart stutter. She was so beautiful. And so vulnerable. What if he messed up again? He knew how The Fox worked now, but dreaded the coming confrontation with the assassin even more. Ethan had so much more to lose.

  He walked with noiseless steps to her side, brushed her hair away from her neck and placed a light kiss on her soft skin.

  Serena opened her eyes, smiled. “Hey, handsome. Ready to roll?”

  “When is Madison supposed to arrive at your house?”

  Serena glanced at her watch. “Not for another hour, at least. Depends on whether a late afternoon knitter with an emergency raced in at closing time. Besides, she has a key. So do Meg and my folks.”

  “How about dinner before we drive to your place, then?”

  Serena tilted her head and stared at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re not trying to weasel out of our date tomorrow morning are you?”

  “No, ma’am. This is only a half-date.”

  She sat a moment, silent. “I’m too tired to untangle that one. What’s a half-date?”

  “Spur-of-the-moment date at a fast-food joint.”

  “Hmm. Makes tomorrow morning’s date sound even more appealing.”

  #

  Serena’s gaze glided over the half-filled parking lot of Burger Heaven until a familiar black SUV caught her attention. Her stomach knotted. “Maybe we shouldn’t eat here, Ethan.”

  “Would you prefer something else?” he asked, surprised.

  “No,” she said. “I’m craving one of Burger Heaven’s Mushroom and Swiss melts, but I don’t think all the patrons will be glad to see us.”

  Ethan scanned the parking lot. “Harrington.” He turned in his seat to face her. “Otter Creek’s too small to avoid him, Serena.”

  “Ethan, if we go in together, there’s no going back. People gossip. By tomorrow night, Maddie’s knitting ladies will have us eloping one day next week.”

  Ethan laughed and walked around the truck to help her down. “Makes it easier for me to clear off the playing field, doesn’t it?”

  Serena smiled and placed her hand in his outstretched one. What playing field? The only batter at the plate, Ethan had already scored a home run with her heart.

  The aroma of grilled burgers and onions rings made Serena’s mouth water and her stomach ache from emptiness. When did she eat last? She reviewed her day, surprised when she realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  “Why don’t you find us a booth while I order?” Ethan nodded to the back of the restaurant. “I think there’s one open behind the Kendalls.”

  Serena wove her way through tables and chairs, chatting with a few friends, and avoiding the far table Mitch occupied with Grace Martin. She stopped beside the Kendall’s booth. “Hey, munchkin. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Serena bent down and hugged the grinning child. “I thought you’d be too full of chocolate chip cookies to eat dinner tonight.”

  Julia giggled, smiling at her father. “Daddy said if I ate half a hamburger, he’d buy me a milkshake.”

  “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

  “Tell Rod to send us the cleaning bill for his suit,” Karen said. “He was such a good sport to help Julia with the cookies.”

  Alan Kendall laughed and hugged his daughter. “So that’s what happened to Rod’s suit. I should have recognized your handiwork.”

  “Evening, Kendall. Good to see you again, Karen.” Ethan placed their tray in the booth behind the family. He shook hands with the officer and his wife. “Who’s the gorgeous young princess you brought with you?”

  “I’m Julia.” She burrowed closer to her father.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Julia. My name’s Ethan. Your dad works with me. You should be proud of him. He’s a very good policeman.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Alan looked pleased. He held out his hand to Julia. “Time for your shake, sweetheart.”

  Serena grinned as her young friend dragged her father to the ordering counter. She noticed Mitch staring in her direction, Grace tugging on his arm. He gave Serena a mocking salute, turned on his heel and left.

  Ethan watched them leave, speculation in his gaze.

  “What is it, Ethan?”

  “Nothing I can discuss right now.” He slid into the booth across from her.

  Studying his features, Serena decided pressing for more information would be pointless. “Tell me about some of Ruth’s adventures.”

  During dinner, Ethan shared several tight scrapes his aunt managed to get herself into. Serena laughed. “I remember Olivia Tutweiler getting into some of those same tight spots. I would never have guessed your aunt tossed s
o much of herself into her books.”

  “You have to be sharp around her or you might see yourself in print. Anything is fair game for her writing.” Ethan grinned. “While she wrote her last book, Aunt Ruth questioned me about tracking techniques. When she gave me a copy of the final draft, I discovered myself in chapter eight with a new name.”

  Serena’s cell phone rang. Startled, she reached into her purse. “This is Serena.”

  “Why is Jewel exploring Otter Creek without you?”

  She frowned. It couldn’t be her dog. “Must be another Westie, Maddie. Jewel’s in my bedroom at the house.”

  Madison laughed. “Serena, Jewel is entertaining customers and exploring every skein of yarn in my stock as we speak.”

  Did the officer watching the house check inside and let Jewel out by accident? Puzzled, Serena said, “Can you keep her for a while? We need to find out what happened.” Ethan’s hand curled around hers.

  “We?” Mischief rang in Madison’s voice. “Did I interrupt something good?”

  “Dinner with Ethan.”

  “Sorry I had to rain on your romantic evening.”

  Burger Heaven didn’t fit her idea of romantic dining. “Thanks for watching Jewel.”

  “No problem. She draws business like a magnet. Call me when you find out what happened.”

  Ethan rose and picked up the trash-laden tray. “Let’s find out what’s going on.”

  #

  Ethan cranked his truck and grabbed his police radio. “Edwards, this is Blackhawk.” He waited for the static to clear. “Edwards, this is Blackhawk. Come in.”

  Silence. Ethan turned onto Main Street. “Unit Four, this is Unit One. Do you copy?” More silence. Ethan’s facial expression hardened. “Dispatch, this is Blackhawk. Unit Four is not responding. Call Detective Kelter and have him meet me at 2249 Marigold Lane. Send another unit to the same address, code three.”

  Ethan pressed on the accelerator and maneuvered his truck through Otter Creek’s twilight traffic. Even if Edwards stepped away from his cruiser, he should have answered with the radio he carried. Unless he wasn’t able to answer. Ethan’s instincts warned him he probably had an officer down.

  He turned right onto Marigold Lane and, slowing the truck, scanned the street. Nothing out of place, yet his senses remained heightened. He pulled up behind Edwards’ empty vehicle. Ethan drew his weapon from his side holster. “Serena . . .”

  “I know,” she interrupted with a weak smile. “Stay in the truck.”

  “Keep the doors locked, baby. If you see anything or someone approaches the truck, hit the horn. I won’t be long.”

  Ethan waited until he heard the lock mechanism engage, then moved toward the front of Serena’s house, pistol in hand. A quick glance in the window confirmed his hunch. The Fox had broken in, looking for Pam’s flash drive.

  The approaching siren of another unit sounded as he walked to the back yard. Serena’s gate creaked in the breeze. He flattened himself against the wall and peeked around the corner into the yard.

  Edwards lay face down on Serena’s deck, blood oozing from the back of his head. Still scanning the area, Ethan drew near the officer and checked him for a pulse. He felt a strong heartbeat.

  Ethan clicked on his radio. “This is Blackhawk. I need an ambulance at 2249 Marigold Lane. Officer down.”

  Edwards moaned and tried to turn over. “Stay still, Edwards. You’ve been injured, but you’re going to be fine.”

  “What happened?”

  “Looks like he caught you from behind with the butt of his gun. You probably need a few stitches.”

  “Hate hospitals.” Edwards’ hand twitched.

  Ethan chuckled. “Me, too. Ambulance should be here in another minute. You remember what happened before you were knocked out?”

  Officer Edwards closed his eyes. “Heard glass breaking. Came to investigate. Then nothing.” He opened one eye to look at Ethan. “Should have waited for backup. Rookie mistake.”

  “You’ve been a good cop, Edwards. Now you’ll be a better one.” Ethan swiveled and motioned to Officer Sanchez. “Send the EMTs back here.”

  Ethan waited until the EMTs lifted Edwards onto the stretcher before he returned to his truck. Serena unlocked the passenger door and stared as the EMTs loaded the injured officer into the ambulance. “Will he be all right?”

  “Yes.” He swung her to the ground. “The Fox was here looking for the disk.”

  “Well, I’m sure he was disappointed.” She gave him a smug smile.

  Ethan stared at her. “Why? You have a computer.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “But I don’t have flash drives in the house. A lot of clients ask for recipes. I print them off on their computer the day they ask so I don’t forget about the request. A flash drive is simple to carry on my key chain so I don’t worry about leaving them behind.”

  He checked his watch. “Rod should be here by now.” A twinge of unease fluttered in his stomach. What delayed him? Tires squealed at the end of the street. He looked up. Rod’s car took the turn too wide, then straddled Marigold Lane. Missing Serena’s driveway, he braked to a stop in the middle of her flowerbed.

  “Stay here,” he murmured to Serena. He grabbed his flashlight and approached the driver’s side of Rod’s car. “What’s going on? You sick?”

  “Sorry I’m late, sir,” Rod said, his words deliberate, slow. “I got delayed.”

  A strong smell of alcohol drifted past his face. Ethan clenched his jaw tight and held his flashlight at an angle so he could see Rod’s eyes. He sighed. Way over the legal limit. “Give me your keys, Rod.”

  Rod shook his head. “I’m all right, Chief.”

  “You’re drunk, Kelter,” Ethan snapped. “Give me your keys.”

  Rod grumbled under his breath and fumbled for the keys before he managed to hand them to Ethan.

  Ethan unbuckled the detective. “Move over.” He motioned to a young patrolman.

  Officer Sanchez trotted over. “Yes, sir?” He glanced at Rod, then focused on Ethan.

  “Detective Kelter isn’t feeling well. I’m taking him home. You and Gage secure the scene until I return.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ethan strode to his truck. He pulled his own keys from his pocket and handed them to Serena. “Follow me.”

  #

  Ethan closed the door and cranked the truck’s engine. Concern gnawed at him. Rod needed help or he would ruin an outstanding work record.

  “What’s wrong with Rod?” Serena asked.

  “Nothing that can be fixed tonight. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.” When he’s sober.

  He backed his truck out of Rod’s driveway. “I’m taking you to my aunt’s tonight, Serena. You can’t stay at your house until we’ve finished with it.” One corner of his mouth curled. “I’m running short of available manpower right now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Serena woke to bright sunlight streaming through ruffle-curtained windows. Ruffled curtains? Where was she? She threw off the covers. Where was Jewel? Then she remembered the runaway train of events the night before. She glanced at the clock. When did Ethan get in? Maybe a more appropriate question was did he come home at all? She and Ruth waited until 1:00 before giving up and going to bed.

  She gathered the change of clothes Meg dropped off for her the night before, showered, and went in search of a cup of tea.

  “Good morning, my dear.”

  Serena smiled at the older woman sitting at the kitchen table. “You look cheery for such a late night.”

  Ruth laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “I know someone who will be happy to see you are awake.” Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “Ethan should be back any minute. He said something about owing you one spectacular breakfast.”

  “When did he get in?”

  “About 3:00.” She stopped. “Ah. There he is now.” She grinned at Serena. “I wonder if he remembered to pick up breakfast for me. He seems rather distracted with you here.”
<
br />   His key rattled in the lock at the back door, sending her heart rate into hyper speed. He nudged open the door, a smile on his lips. Her eyes widened at the huge picnic basket he carried.

  “Good morning, ladies.” He set the basket on the floor.

  “Something in that basket better be for me.” Ruth looked as curious as Serena felt.

  “Please tell me there’s more than just food in there,” Serena said. It looked big enough to hold rations for a Boy Scout troop.

  His eyes sparkled. “To be honest, there’s no food in here at all. I’m delivering a special package this morning.”

  From inside the basket came a whine and scratching noises. Serena’s mouth gaped.

  “Go ahead.” Ethan laughed. “Open it before she digs a hole in the side.”

  Serena hurried to the basket, unlatched it and lifted the lid. A four-legged livewire with white fur leaped from the basket into Serena’s arms. “Jewel!” Serena hugged the wriggling, yapping animal, and laughed.

  “Oh, good.” Ruth smiled, watching Jewel. “Someone to play with while you two go on your date.”

  “You might find her a good writing buddy, Ruth.” Serena rose. “Whenever I’m on the computer at home, Jewel lays on top of my feet.”

  “Is that right? How interesting.” Ruth watched the exploring dog, a faraway look in her eyes.

  Ethan grinned. “I think Jewel is about to make an appearance in one of Ruth’s books.”

  “What? Oh, yes, run along, dear ones. Have a good time.” Ruth’s attention stayed glued to the dog.

  Ethan laughed and escorted Serena to his truck. He waved to the officer parked at the front curb.

  “Where are we going?” Serena asked, curiosity getting the best of her intentions to wait on her surprise.

  “You asked for a date at the lake,” he said. “Breakfast is in the back seat.”

  Serena turned around and smiled. Mouth-watering aromas drifted from her picnic basket.

  “I can give you two of the three things you asked for. I brought the truck and I chose a place not frequented by people this time of morning.” He glanced at her, determination on his face. “But I won’t risk your life by not carrying a gun.”

 

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