Page 81 of Ruthless Creatures
I recognize her well.
Her name’s Brown. Detective Doretta Brown, to be precise.
The woman who led the investigation into David’s disappearance and never let me forget for a second that she wasn’t ruling anyone out as a suspect.
Including me.
“Detective Brown. It’s been a while. Do you have news about David?”
Her eyes narrow slightly as she examines my face.
I bet she can smell the fear on me. The woman’s intelligence is frightening.
“We’re not here about that, Ms. Peterson.”
“No?”
She waits for me to say more, but my tongue is pinched firmly between my teeth. Kage’s warning about talking to the police is too fresh for me to start blabbering.
When I don’t break under her laser beam stare, she adds, “We’re here about the shooting at La Cantina last night.”
I don’t make a peep. I do, however, notice that there’s more than one law enforcement car parked at the curb out on the street.
Chris leans against his sheriff’s cruiser with his arms folded over his chest, staring hard at me over the tops of his mirrored sunglasses.
Shit.
Realizing that Detective Brown and I could stand there in silence forever, the paunchy officer makes a friendly suggestion. “Why don’t we go inside and talk?”
“No.”
He looks surprised by the forcefulness of my answer. Detective Brown, however, doesn’t.
“Is there something you’d like to tell us, Ms. Peterson?”
I bet those sharp ears of hers can hear the faint screams of my bowels, but I manage to keep a straight face when I answer. “Is there something you’d like to tellme?”
She shares a knowing glance with her colleague. He crosses his arms over his barrel chest and gives me a new look. One that says he didn’t take me seriously before, but he does now.
Obviously, Detective Brown has been telling him stories.
In her book, I might look innocent, but I’m not.
I wonder if she thinks I chopped David into tiny pieces and fed him into a wood chipper.
She says, “There was a shooting last night at La Cantina. Four people were killed.”
Pause. A daring stare. I say nothing. She continues.
“What can you tell us about it?”
“Am I under arrest?”
She seems taken aback by that, but quickly recovers her composure. “No.”
“Then perhaps you could direct your attention to the open investigation of my missing fiancé, and come back when you have something.”
I start to shut the door, but the other officer says, “We know you were at the restaurant last night.”
