| |
COMBS STARED AT APRIL’S phone. September had disconnected before he could convince her to come in.
Doty shrugged. “At least the stupid woman’s still alive.”
Combs flinched, but covered it with a cough. Typical Doty, going for shock value. “She’s gone to ground, but she’s not stupid. She’ll come up for air when she’s ready.”
Gonzalez and Doty stared at him, clearly doubting his grasp on reality, but he didn’t care, and knew he was right. She had something planned. He just hoped she could stay alive long enough to make it work. “Let’s find out what the witnesses have to say.”
The herky-jerky ride back down the elevator made Combs’s stomach leapfrog. He breathed with relief when the doors opened. The burn in his gut was an old friend, an ulcer born during the last months of his marriage. It faded once the divorce was final, but the gnawing flames announced its resurrection.
At the desk, the manager straightened when they approached. “They’re still in my office. They wanted to leave, and I told them they couldn’t until you said it was okay.” His aggrieved tone implied great effort on his part.
“You did good.” Combs tossed the fellow an atta-boy before following Gonzales and Doty to the employee entrance. He hesitated. Something smelled wonderful. His mouth watered and he swallowed hard.
The manager reached beneath the counter to the hidden oven. “Warm chocolate chip cookies. Specialty of the hotel. Guests get a couple when they check in, but I suppose we could spare some for Heartland’s finest.” He held out a small paper bag. Slow steam rose from the open end.
What the hell. Combs stuffed one in his mouth, chewed and swallowed before biting into a second and pocketing a third as he rushed after the two detectives.
“It’s about time.” The male witness wore a threadbare robe, and his sharp knees could cut fabric.
Doty waved the man to a chair. “We appreciate your patience, Mr. and Mrs.—” she checked her notes. “Pete and Julie Green. Can we get you some coffee? Cookies?” She smirked at Combs and pantomimed a napkin.
He flicked crumbs away.
“Don’t have much of an appetite.” Pete was oblivious. “Honey, you want something?” He leaned down and brushed a kiss against his wife’s temple.
Julie ducked her head and refused to look at anyone, keeping her bare feet pulled under her overlarge Dallas Cowboy’s sleep shirt. Her long, straight hair fell in pigtails past her collar. She chewed on one, her expression unfocussed.
Trauma witnesses suffered shock, too. She’d tracked through the gore and the CSIs collected her socks. Pete’s CPR attempts left him stained with blood. Hence, the borrowed robe.
“We’ve been here forever. I want to get my wife back to the room to rest.” He stood behind his doll-size wife and gripped her shoulders. “We can’t go home until the storm quits. And now this happens.” His eyes scoured the room like a trapped animal seeking a bolt hole. “The management won’t give us a new room, either. Tried to be a good guy, and what d’ya get? This sucks.”
“Mr. Green, Mrs. Green, Heartland PD appreciates your cooperation.” Doty’s conciliatory tone didn’t hide the sarcasm. “A woman nearly died. That trumps your inconvenience. I ask the questions, you answer them. We’ll get you out of here when we’re through. Are we clear?”
Julie patted her husband’s hand. She sniffed, and glared at Doty with distrust, but offered a quick smile to Combs. “She told us what happened.”
“Good. That’s real good, Mrs. Green.” Gonzales scribbled on his note pad. “Did she describe her attacker?”
She shivered. “I’ve never liked them. Told Pete over and over they are dangerous. Was a dark one with pointed ears gave me this when I was only three.” She pointed to her lower lip, and Combs saw a faint scar stitched on the flesh.
“Ma’am, I think you’re confused—” Gonzales tried to interrupt, but she pushed on, growing more and more animated.
“Pete wanted us to get a baby and raise it up.” Her gaze darted about the room. “But they turn into killers. You just can’t trust them. I put my foot down. And I saw folks sneak the dirty things into the hotel. I did.” Her husband started to speak, but she shrilled over top of him. “No more arguments Pete, we’re never ever getting one. Look what happened to that poor lady. And to her kid, too. She had to climb into the ice to get away.”
“I don’t think that’s what happened, honey.” Pete’s calm countered her strident tone.
Doty’s brow creased with puzzlement, but she encouraged the woman to continue. “She mentioned a kid? What’d she say?”
“She did. She wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t mean it. You didn’t hear.” The tiny woman turned from haranguing Pete to confront Combs. “She grabbed my hand, pulled me down to whisper in my ear. I even got blood on my face when she . . .” She gulped, calmed herself with several deep breaths. “That poor lady was clear as glass, even if she was all tore up and hurt awful.”
“So what happened?” Combs tried to soothe. “What did she say?”
“She said the dogs did it.” Julie hugged herself.
“What?” Doty rocked back on her heels. Her exasperation startled both witnesses.
Combs couldn’t hide his incredulity. Mrs. Green had, after all, experienced a shock. “What exactly—and I mean exactly—did she say? Not what you think she meant, but the actual words. It’s important.” He held out a hand in a placating gesture. “It’s easy to misunderstand in moments of stress, but even if it makes no sense, we want to know the exact words she used. Okay?”
Julie stared up at him before squeezing her eyes shut, maybe to clarify the memory or to shut it out. “She said the dog did it. That it was the dog’s fault.” Her chin jutted at their collective expression of disbelief. “I swear that’s what she said.”
