Part 15 (2/2)
”I think it's a snarling wolf.”
”Weird, considering.”
”Mmm,” I agreed. What wasn't?
She straightened. ”How did that happen?”
For a minute I thought she could tell that the ring hadn't actually fallen where it now rested. But that didn't mean she knew it had gotten there thanks to the powers of Henry, the telekinetic ghost.
I was losing my mind.
”I mean, how could his ring fall off if he was wearing gloves?”
”You think I lied about his wearing gloves?”
Her eyebrows flew up. ”Did you?”
”Why would I?”
”Why would you lie about anything?” she asked. ”Don't you want this guy caught before he tries it again?”
”Again?” I echoed.
”You're not dead. As he apparently wanted you that way badly enough to try it in broad daylight in the middle of town, he seems pretty motivated.”
”He didn't just try to rob me, see me here, and-”
”Decide to kill you? No.”
”How can you be so certain?”
”Thieves and murderers are two different types of criminals. If a thief had been inside when you got here, he would have run out instead of engaging you, especially since you were asleep. If he came in after you got here, he would have left as soon as he saw you.”
She indicated the sight line from the door; my bed lay dead ahead. He couldn't have missed me. Still ...
”You don't know that.”
”You're right. I don't. So, what did you lie about?”
”Nothing.” Everything I'd said was the truth. It was what I hadn't said that was the problem.
A chill wind seemed to ruffle my hair. I should probably shut the door, but I'd just have to open it again when Ross arrived. I hugged myself.
Chief Deb's gaze fell, narrowed. I glanced down. My fingernails were b.l.o.o.d.y.
”I scratched him!” I held out my hands as if admiring my new manicure. ”You'll be able to find him now.”
She reached into her pocket. ”Maybe.”
”You can check people's forearms.”
”Because a guy who attempted murder is going to hang around in the cafe wearing a T-s.h.i.+rt and no coat? I can't just go up to people and demand they bare their forearms for my examination.”
”You can't?”
She shook her head. Then she pulled two evidence bags from her pocket. ”Hold 'em out.”
I did, and she put the bags over my hands then secured them at my wrists with rubber bands. ”What I can do is have Ross sc.r.a.pe your fingernails for DNA, and if this nut is in the system...” She clapped her hands together so loudly I started, and my plastic bags rattled. ”We got 'im.”
”What system?”
”The Combined DNA Index System, CODEX for short.”
”FBI?”
”What was your first clue?”
”The acronym?”
Her lips twitched. ”It's a federal thing.”
My surprise that she knew what an acronym was must have shown on my face.
”I'm good with letters,” she said. ”R-E-B-O-U-N-D!”
Now my lips twitched. ”I'm sure you're good with more than that.”
The amus.e.m.e.nt in her iris-blue eyes faded. ”Is that a 'cheerleaders are s.l.u.ts' dig?”
”I didn't mean it to be.”
I hadn't known that was a thing. Cheerleaders were pretty far out of my social circle in high school. I hadn't cared; I'd had Owen. I'd gone to a college with over forty thousand students. Add over twenty thousand in faculty and staff, and that was one huge campus. Cheerleaders? I'd seen a few, but I certainly didn't know them.
”I meant that I doubt you'd be the police chief just because you can spell to a beat.”
”Oh. Thanks.”
I suppose someone like Deb had a tough time being taken seriously as a cop. That she was the police chief at all said she wasn't as blond as she looked.
Silence descended. I tried to figure out how to suggest she send the ring to the FBI without sounding like I was telling her her business, or insinuating she was stupid.
Or explaining that the wolf had told me to.
”That ring-” I began.
”I should probably show that to the feds too.”
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