by LENA DIAZ,
Before Kathy could say anything, Thornton held his hand out to stop her and confronted his officer.
“I warned you, Chris. You can’t be in here.” His gravelly voice whipped through the room. “What do I have to do, arrest you? Lock you in a cell?”
Twin spots of color darkened Chris’s cheekbones. His heated gaze flashed to Julie, then back to Thornton. “I need answers. And, so far, you’re not getting any. Let me interview her. I’ll make her talk.”
Julie flinched at his harsh tone. She’d retreated to her chair, but even with a table between them, his anger seemed to fill the room, crowding in on her. Where was the gentle, concerned man who’d knelt in front of the couch earlier this evening, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay?
Kathy didn’t move. Her only concession to Chris standing so close was to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “Are you threatening Mrs. Webb, Officer Downing?”
Thornton aimed an aggravated look at Kathy. “It’s Detective, not Officer. And he’s not threatening anyone. Stay out of this.”
The shocked look on Kathy’s face was almost comical. Julie doubted that anyone, except maybe Kathy’s husband, had ever dared to speak to her that way before. She seemed to be at a loss as to how to respond.
“Don’t you be questioning my methods, son.” Thornton jabbed his finger at Chris’s chest. “I was interviewing witnesses when you were knee-high to a mule. Since you’re the one who fired the gun, you can’t be involved in the investigation. Until this is over, you’re a civilian. And civilians have no business questioning witnesses. Now, turn around and—”
“No.” Julie jumped up from her seat.
Everyone stared at her in surprise.
She cleared her throat, just as surprised as they were at her outburst, but she now acknowledged what her subconscious had already known—that this was the right thing to do.
“I want him to stay,” she said.
The expression on Chris’s face turned suspicious.
“What did you say?” Thornton’s question sounded more like he was daring her to repeat her request, a request he had no intention of fulfilling.
“Julie—” Kathy began.
She waved her hand. “Taking a life is a heavy burden that no one should have to bear, even if taking that life was necessary. Letting Detective Downing ask questions about why he was put in that situation is the least that I can do to show my gratitude for his saving my life. So, Chief Thornton, either you allow him to stay, or the interview is over.”
While Thornton stood in indecision, Chris firmly closed the door and then straddled the chair directly across from her. He gave her a crisp nod, as if to grudgingly thank her. She nodded in return, just as stiffly—two adversaries facing off before a fight.
The other two gave up their vigil. Kathy sat down while Thornton stared pointedly at his chair, the one Chris was currently occupying. Chris ignored him. After grumbling something beneath his breath about “seat stealers,” the chief finally sat down. But the table’s small size and Chris’s broad shoulders had forced the chief to the end of the table, which had him grumbling again.
Julie waited expectantly. Rather than attack her with a volley of questions, Chris simply stared at her, as if sizing her up. If he was trying to figure out how to intimidate her, the effort was unnecessary. She’d been intimidated since the moment he’d stood in the open doorway like a fierce warrior looking for a dragon to slay.
And she was the dragon.
She clasped her hands beneath the table so he couldn’t see that they were shaking. It wasn’t just Chris that had her so nervous. Being in an interrogation room again, after all these months, stirred up a host of horrific memories. The past few months had been rough, brutal. But at least she’d survived. Her husband hadn’t. And even though she was relieved she no longer had to fear him, she still grieved that it had come to this. There’d been a time once, long ago, when she’d loved him.
He’d been a good man back then—handsome, kind, sweet, helping her move forward after the tragic loss of her family just a few months before she’d met him. She grieved for that Alan, the one she’d pledged to honor and love until death do they part. The man who had, or so she liked to believe, loved her, too, once upon a time, until the fairy tale had twisted into a tragedy.
“Mrs. Webb?” Chris’s deep voice intruded into her thoughts. “Please answer the question.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”
“I’ll answer your question,” Kathy interrupted. “Mrs. Webb came to Destiny to hide from her abusive husband.”
Julie shot the other woman an irritated look. She made it sound like Julie had stayed with Alan through a long, abusive relationship. In truth, before today, Alan had been abusive only once, five months ago. After that one horrific night, she’d filed for divorce and ended her three-year marriage. She supposed she was lucky. Some women ended up caught in cycles of violence from which they could never escape. But Julie wasn’t feeling particularly fortunate at the moment. Everything was in turmoil. And Alan had lost his life. There was no way to feel good about what had happened.
“Her husband somehow found out that she was here, in Destiny,” Kathy continued. “And he broke into her home and assaulted her. The rest you know. Detective Downing had to use deadly force to protect her.”
“How about we let the witness give her own statement,” Chris said, closely watching Julie. “Mrs. Webb—”
“Julie, please,” she corrected, so tired of the awkwardness and formalities of this never-ending interview. At this point she just wanted it over.
“Julie,” he corrected. “Do you agree with the assistant district attorney’s version of this evening’s events?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
Kathy let out a breath, as if relieved.
“Except for the part where she made it sound like my husband had a history of violence,” she said. “Alan and I never had a perfect marriage. But until...recently...he never lifted a hand against me. Something...happened to make him snap.” She finished in a near whisper, her defense of Alan sounding weak when she said it out loud. Still, she hated to paint him as a bad person when, for most of the time that she’d known him, he was kind and good to her.
Kathy put a hand on top of Julie’s and gave her a sympathetic look. “You’re being far too kind to a man who tried to kill you.”
Julie swallowed and looked away.
Kathy sighed and turned in her seat to face Julie. “For the record, are you stating that your husband wasn’t dangerous? That you weren’t afraid of him?”
“No, of course not. He was definitely dangerous. You know what he did in Nashville.”
Kathy groaned and closed her eyes.
“I was wondering why you hadn’t brought that up yet.” Thornton jumped on her statement. “I ran your husband’s name through the computer before the interview. Why don’t you tell us your version of the first attack?”
Chris shot a surprised look at his boss. Julie figured he must not have been told what Thornton had found.
Kathy checked her watch, probably calculating how late—or early in the morning now—it would be by the time this was over and she could start the long drive back.
“You might as well tell them,” she said. “Now that you’ve brought it up. Then I’ll take you back to Nashville and—”
“I’m not going back.”
Kathy frowned. “Why not?”
“I just got here. I don’t want to move again. Not this soon.”
“You were here to hide out from Alan. Obviously, that’s not necessary anymore.”
“We don’t know if he was the one flattening my tires, salting my yard, and everything else. What if it was his family? I wouldn’t put it past them.”
“I don’t th
ink they’re dangerous,” Kathy said.
“We both know what they can be like,” she said. “I’d much rather stay here until everything is settled. Then maybe they’ll finally leave me alone and I can return home and live in peace.”
Kathy shrugged. “Maybe it does make sense to stay here, at least until the civil case is over.”
“Civil case?” Thornton’s voice had risen again and he looked like he was ready to explode with frustration. “This is supposed to be an interview, a police interview. You two need to start talking to us, instead of to each other. You need to answer our questions.”
“Chief—” Kathy began.
“What did he do to you?” Chris’s deep voice cut through the conversation, silencing everyone in the room. His brow was furrowed with concern, his tone gentle, almost a whisper, just like back at the house. “How did he hurt you?”
Her stomach did a little flip. Part of her was tempted to throw herself in his arms and beg him to take her away from the nightmare that her life had become. She must be more exhausted than she thought. Chris had shown his true colors when he’d barged into the room, looking like a bull ready to charge after a red flag. He wasn’t really interested in helping her. She’d do well to remember that, and not let her exhaustion and longing for someone to lean on after all these months of being alone influence her decisions.
She straightened her spine and focused on Thornton as she answered. If she looked at the supposed concern on Chris’s face one more time she just might shatter.
“The reason I moved to Destiny was to hide from my husband, as Kathy said. He disappeared after posting bail. And there have been some...incidents, annoyances really, that made me wonder if he was stalking me. While it’s true that he doesn’t have a...long history of being abusive, he did attack me about five months ago, which you obviously already know. We were separated. He’d moved out and left the house to me. And then he broke into our home in the middle of the night. He was dressed all in black and wore a mask. And that night, like earlier today, he had a knife. Today, Detective Downing saved my life when he shot Alan. And I deeply appreciate his sacrifice. But there wasn’t anyone else around months ago to protect me. So I saved myself. I grabbed my husband’s gun, the one he’d left in the nightstand before moving out, and I shot him.”
Chris blinked in surprise. “You shot your husband?”
“I did.”
Thornton and Chris exchanged a glance. But Julie had no clue what they were silently communicating to each other.
Kathy said, “Mr. Webb was charged with breaking and entering and attempted murder. He had duct tape, a knife and gloves. He attacked Mrs. Webb, pulled her out of the bed and onto the floor. She was able to get away and grab the gun or she wouldn’t be sitting here today. She’d be buried six feet under. However, in spite of the overwhelming evidence in the case, the judge went against our recommendations and set bail at one million dollars, which Mr. Webb immediately paid. Then he—”
“He paid a million-dollar bail?” Thornton asked. He and Chris both looked at Julie with renewed interest. “Just how much money did he have? And who’s the beneficiary?”
She closed her eyes and squeezed her hands together in her lap. This was what she’d wanted to avoid. Now they would look at her the way Alan’s family did. They’d never believed her side of what had happened and had accused her of trying to kill him for his money.
Kathy said something to Thornton but Julie tuned it out. She just wanted the interview to be over. How had it come to this? As she often did when thinking about the past year of her life, when her marriage had started to fail, she tried to pinpoint that one decision, that one pivotal event that had led to her entire life being turned upside down. But she still didn’t know what had happened. One day she was happy, they were happy, her and Alan. The next, everything had changed. Alan had become moody, angry, and it continued to go downhill from there. A tear ran down her cheek. Then another. She drew a shaky breath and wiped them away.
“Here.” Chris was crouching beside her chair, holding a box of tissues. And in his other hand was a bottle of water, which he held out to her. “They’re so busy arguing with each other over there that they didn’t even notice I’d left the room to get you the water and tissues.”
He jerked his head toward the corner by the window where Thornton and Kathy were standing, having a heated argument. Apparently, Julie had been so lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t noticed anything that had happened over the past few minutes, either.
She wiped her cheeks with a tissue, then took the bottle. He’d already opened it and had set the cap on the table.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.” He gestured toward the corner again. “I think they’re going to be at this for a while. Want to get out of here?”
She blinked. “I thought you wanted to interview me? Or is that your plan, to take me somewhere else and ask me questions without Kathy present?”
He cocked his head, looking every bit the handsome, sexy neighbor again instead of the angry, hardened cop. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Score one for honesty.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Never apologize for telling the truth.” He glanced at the chief and Kathy, completely consumed in their argument, before looking at Julie again. “I’d like to remind you that I’m a police officer, sworn to protect and serve. And if that doesn’t make you trust me, I’ll resort to blackmail.”
“Blackmail?”
His grin faded, and he was once again staring at her with an intensity that was unnerving. “Like you said before, I deserve answers. So how about we ditch this place and I take you somewhere safe, where no one will bother you? We’ll both get a good night’s sleep. No questions. No talking unless you want to. Then tomorrow, we take a fresh look at the situation and figure out where to go from there. Sound good?”
“Sounds too good, actually. Why are you offering?”
“Because somewhere along the way this interview turned into an inquisition. The chief and I both want answers, so I don’t want Nelson convincing you to leave and never come back. But it’s late, we’re all tired and you aren’t a criminal being interrogated. You’re a witness, a victim. You deserve to be treated better than you have been. I’m offering a truce. What do you say? Will you let me get you out of here?” He stood and held out his hand.
This time it was her turn to glance at Thornton and Kathy. Both their faces were red. Whatever they were arguing about, it didn’t look like they’d stop anytime soon.
She put her hand in Chris’s. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
Chris glanced at his passenger as he turned his pickup off the highway onto a gravel road. Thanks to his SWAT team, he’d managed to get the witness out of the station without Henson or Bolton being able to give chase. It was hard to follow someone when the only exit door was blocked by three cops with guns. But he was already having buyer’s remorse.
The chief was going to kill him for this.
Julie sat stiffly, clutching the armrest as if it were a lifeline, staring through the windshield. Was she also regretting the decision to flee? Wondering if she’d gotten herself into worse trouble than she was already in?
“This isn’t the way I go to my house.” She leaned forward to peer at the narrow gravel road and trees crowding in that were revealed in the headlights. “I assumed you were taking me home. Is this a back way?”
“Your home is still taped off as a crime scene. You can’t go there until it’s released.”
Her shoulders slumped, but she nodded. “This seems awfully far from town to be leading to a hotel.”
“It’s called Harmony Haven. You’ll see the place over that next rise. See how the sky is lighter up ahead? That’s from the secu
rity and landscape lights.”
“A bed-and-breakfast then?”
He steered around a pothole, surprised the road was in such poor condition. Then again, there’d been a lot of rain this past month, and he hadn’t been down this way in quite a while.
“Chris?”
He shook his head. “It’s not a B and B. It’s a private home on a horse-rescue farm. It belongs to my friends Dillon and Ashley. They’re not here right now and I figured they wouldn’t mind us crashing for the night.”
Any argument she might have been about to give was forgotten as they topped the rise and Dillon’s property came into view. Julie stared in wonder at the beautiful vista laid out before them. It pleased him that she seemed so awestruck. He felt that way every time he came here, especially at night because of the way the lights cast an ethereal glow on the place.
With the sweat equity he’d invested to help Dillon get this place up and running over the years, he couldn’t help feeling proprietary about it. But with Dillon married now, Chris’s visits had become less frequent. Newlyweds needed their privacy, even more so now with a baby on the way. His jaw tightened. If it weren’t so late, he’d call the hospital for an update on Ashley. He’d have to remember to call first thing in the morning and check on her.
He pulled the truck to a stop beside the two-story white farmhouse and took a moment to enjoy the view himself. Soft floodlights that Ashley had insisted upon, which were more for ambience than security, dotted a long, pristine, white three-rail fence and acres and acres of lush green pastures that went on forever.
The enormous stable was partially visible behind the house. He parked at the end of the home’s enormous wraparound front porch that boasted white rockers and an old-fashioned swing hanging from chains.
“It’s beautiful,” Julie whispered, seemingly mesmerized as the light breeze teased the swing back and forth, the chains creaking in rhythm with the sound of cicadas.
“I reckon it is.” He cut the engine, admiring her profile. The lights from the yard sparkled on the honey-blond highlights in her brown hair. She had a small, pert nose and pale skin with a smattering of freckles across both cheeks. A lock of her hair hung forward and he barely resisted the urge to brush it back.