Karen Rose - Count to Ten

Mr. Dougherty peered over the top of her notebook. "Reggie Fagin. Why?"

She smiled at him. "Just asking the questions. May save me some time later."

"You never told us when we can go into our house," Mr. Dougherty said.

"We'll get you back in as quickly as possible," Mia assured them without giving a real answer. They seemed like nice people, but she'd check them out, just the same. "Do you have any valuables you'd like us to hold in the meantime?"

"My wedding alburn," Mis. Dougherty said. "Other thai that, I can't think right now."

Mr. Dougherty's face changed, abruptly. "Um… We have a gun, upstairs in our nightstand drawer. It's registered," he added defensively.

Solliday looked surprised. "I didn't find any guns registered in your name."

Mia looked up at him, surprised herself that he'd checked.

"It's registered in my maiden name," Mrs. Dougherty said. "Lawrence. I bought it before we got married. It's just a.22, but I'd hate for it to fall in the wrong hands."

"Excuse us a minute," Mia said and motioned Solliday with her head.

He followed her, his jaw tight. "No, I didn't find a gun," he muttered before she could ask. "And I looked in that nightstand drawer."

"Shit. He could have brought his own gun and then found theirs."

"Or Caitlin could have found it when she was up there studying and he took it during the struggle. He may have come unarmed. We could be back to Caitlin as an accident. Wrong place, wrong time."

"This muddies everything," she grumbled. As one they turned back to the waiting couple. "We didn't find your gun," Mia said. "We'll report it stolen for you."

The couple looked at each other, then back, dread in their eyes. "Was Caitlin killed with our gun?" Mr. Dougherty asked heavily.

"We don't know," Solliday said. "Was it loaded?"

Numbly Mrs. Dougherty nodded. "I kept it loaded with the safety on. I never fired it except at the firing range, and that's been… years."

"Did you know a woman named Penny Hill?" Mia asked and both shook their heads.

"I'm sorry, that name doesn't ring any bells," Mr. Dougherty said. "Why?"

"Just asking the questions." Mia smiled again to calm them. "Might help me later."

"I'll see if I can find your wedding album. Anything else?" Solliday asked.

"I know this sounds horrible, what with Caitlin…" Mrs. Dougherty's were filled with a combination of anxiety and guilt. "My cat, Percy, was in the house. He's a white Persian. Did…" She drew a breath. "Did you find him?"

Sympathy flickered in Solliday's dark eyes. "No, ma'am, we didn't. If we do, we'll let you know. I'll be right back, Detective."

Mia turned back to the couple. "Where will you be staying?"

"For now, we're at the Beacon Inn." Mr. Dougherty's brief smile was entirely without mirth. "I guess we're not supposed to leave town."

"For now, it would be easier if I or the Lieutenant could contact you when we need you,'" Mia agreed neutrally. "Here's my card. Call me if you think of anything else."

"Detective." Mrs. Dougherty was tentative. "The Bur-nettes… Ellen is a friend of mine. How are they?"

"As well as you can expect under the circumstances."

"I can't even imagine," she murmured.

They were silent then, waiting for Solliday's return. Minutes passed and Mia frowned. He should have been back by now. He'd stressed how dangerous the compromised structure was, but she'd heard nothing to indicate the roof had fallen in on his head. Still… "Excuse me," she said. Halfway up the driveway she stopped, her eyes widening as Solliday appeared from around the back. "What the hell is that?"

Solliday grimaced at the filthy bundle he held at arms' length. "Somewhere under all this dirt is a white Persian. He was curled up against the back door in the mud."

Mia grinned up at him. He seemed so disgusted. "That's so nice of you."

"No. I'm mean. Hateful. Take it. He stinks."

"No way." She laughed. "I'm allergic to dirty cats."

"My shoes are dirty," he complained and she laughed again.

She turned to Mrs. Dougherty. "It appears the prodigal cat has been found. Whoa," she said as Mrs. Dougherty ran up, hope in her eyes. "For now, this cat is evidence."

"Excuse me?" the Doughertys said together.

Solliday just scowled and kept the cat as far away from his trenchcoat as he could.

Mia sobered. "Whoever did this must have let him out or Percy slipped out when he was breaking in or leaving. We'll take him in, give him a bath and check him out. We might be lucky and get some physical evidence. If not, we'll return him to you quickly."

"He's probably hungry," Mrs. Doughtery said, biting her lip.

"We'll feed him." Mia's lips twitched. "Won't we, Lieutenant?"

Solliday's eyes narrowed in a way that promised retribution. "Sure." He held out a padded album that had also once been white. "Your wedding pictures have a good bit of water damage, but a restorer might be able to salvage some of them."

Mrs. Dougherty let out a shuddering breath. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

Solliday's scowl softened. "It's okay. See if you can find a box for Percy. I don't want him making a mess in my truck."

Tuesday, November 28, 9:25 a.m.

Thad Lewin was back. Brooke leaned against her desk as she watched the students take their places. Mike pulled his chair to the back, Jeff lounged and Manny said nothing at all. But it was Thad she watched. The boy was normally shy, but today was different. Today his head was down, his steps shuffling. He lowered himself to his chair, tenderly. Brooke blinked, not liking the picture that was beginning to form in her mind. She glanced at Jeff who lifted one side of his mouth in a cruel amusement that made her blood go cold.

"Mornin", Teacher," he drawled. "Looks like the gang's all here."

She didn't drop her gaze, challenging him silently until his eyes slid down to her breasts. God help us when he gets out .

It was a common phrase uttered by every teacher, male and female. She thought about what Devin said last night, that Jeff would reoffend and be back in jail within a month of leaving this place.

She didn't want to be on the receiving end of that offense. "Open your books," she said. "Today we're going to talk about chapter three."

Tuesday, November 28, 9:45 a.m.

Reed was just happy to get his hands clean. He came out of the men's room at the convenience store still scowling at his shoes. He should have changed them before going into that house. That's why he kept several pairs in the back of his truck. Nasty cat. Covered in mud and a number of other things best left unidentified, it was currently being restrained in the box on Mitchell's lap. From where he stood, Reed could see her in the truck, her elbows propped on the box, face intent as she talked on her cell phone. She'd been on hold with DCFS when he'd come in to wash up, waiting for information on Penny Hill "s next of kin. Now her expression changed, grew softer. Pained. She was informing Hill's son, some three hundred miles away. But her face had looked like that when she'd informed the Burnettes in person.

Hill's family wasn't just an entry in Mia Mitchell's notebook. She'd insisted on using Penny Hill's name, rather than the victim . She cared. He liked that.

A yawn cracked his jaw. It had been a sleepless night and an afternoon of reading the fine print of case files loomed. He carried two cups of coffee to the cash register, then froze as his eyes dropped to the stack of newspapers at his feet.

"Will that be all?" the cashier asked.

Reed glanced up, then back down to the paper. "The coffee and a paper. Thanks."

When he got outside, she'd finished her call and was staring straight ahead. But when he knocked on her window she was quick to respond, rolling it down so she could take the coffee from his hands. "What's that?" she asked, looking at the paper.