Page 22 of Shadowed Witness

“No.” As far as she knew, all her customers were satisfied. No need to tell him she hadn’t dated in years. That sounded so ... pitiful. Not that she hadn’t had a few offers—okay, one plus a few matchmaking attempts by her mom—but after her last boyfriend had broken off their serious relationship and promptly announced an engagement to someone else ... well, she’d needed a break. She just hadn’t expected it to turn into three years andcounting. But dating was out of the question right now. Even if she wanted to—which she didn’t—she barely had the energy to keep up with normal life.

Eric stood. “Okay. I just had to ask. I know you’re exhausted. Let’s get the walk-through taken care of.”

She set her knitting aside and scooted to the edge of her seat. Why was it so hard to muster enough energy to stand right now?Just get up. Move!Instead, she just sat there. Eric moved closer and offered his hand. She could—should—do it herself. But she was so tired. After only a short hesitation, she grasped his hand and let him help her to her feet.

Once she felt steady—which took a few seconds longer than it should have—she withdrew her hand. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Steeling herself against the embarrassment of her messy house, she led him through the rooms, retracing the path she’d walked with her attacker, then checking into the other areas as well. The search turned up nothing of note. And Eric either didn’t notice or chose not to comment on her untidiness.

“Mind if I check your locks?” he asked when they were finished.

“Be my guest.”

She propped herself against a wall while he examined the front door, then followed him into the kitchen. He unlocked the back door, opened it, bent to peer at the latch, then turned the lock and stepped outside. He pulled the door shut, locking himself out. But within seconds, he was letting himself back inside.

“How did you . . . ?”

He held up a credit card. “That lock is easy to disengage. A child could pop it with one of these.”

“So that was how he got in?”

Eric shrugged. “Can’t say for sure, but it would have been an easy point of entry.”

“Lovely.”

“You should install a dead bolt. Do you need help with that?”

“I’m sure Bryce will do it for me.”

He gave her a quick nod. “Good. I recommend having it done sooner rather than later.”

“Definitely.” She’d ask him to come by as soon as she got permission from her landlord.

“I’ll be going, then.” But instead of moving toward the front door, he studied her. “Are you sure you’re all right? If you want to call someone so you’re not here alone, I can wait.”

“No. I don’t want to bother anyone else tonight. Thank you though. And—” She moistened her lips. “Thank you for not blowing me off—even though I know I sound crazy. But also for not placating me with empty promises.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” He held her gaze, and for the briefest moment, she wished she could tell him about everything she had going on—not as a victim to a detective, but friend to friend. He would listen, maybe offer advice or comfort. She could use some comfort.

No. She put a hard stop on that line of thought. He didn’t need her to dump all that on him. She’d be all right.

She lifted what felt like a shaky smile. “Well, goodnight, then.”

“Get some rest, Allye.”

11

Allye dragged herselfout of her recliner at nine thirty Sunday morning after snoozing her alarm three times. Church started at ten, which meant she had twenty-five minutes to shower, dress, and eat if she wanted to be on time. Maybe she should skip the shower.

She headed for the kitchen and flipped the switch on the hot water kettle. The hint of a headache lurked behind her eyes—though it was nothing like the raging migraine that had knocked her flat and stolen nearly all memory of yesterday—and her hips and lower back protested a third night spent in the recliner instead of her bed. There was no way she could have even attempted to go back to sleep in her room Friday night, and she’d apparently fallen asleep in the chair again last night too.

She turned toward the table and let out a little groan. She just needed to stretch her muscles ... and maybe pop an ibuprofen.

Once the pain reliever kicked in and she had her tea, maybe she’d feel more human and less like the grizzly Bryce and Corina teasingly called her morning persona. She sank into a chair and rested her forehead on her crossed arms while she waited for the water to boil. She didn’t feel like a grizzly this morning. More likea half-drowned mouse. Her limbs felt numb and achy all at the same time. How was that even possible?

The water began to rumble in the kettle. She ought to choose her tea and portion it into the infuser basket, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The clock ticked behind her as if to prompt her to step things up.

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