Shirlee McCoy - Safe by the Marshal's Side

“What would you call me?” he asked, more curious than he should be. She was a witness, and her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. Right at that moment, though, it did.

“Efficient.”

“Not hard-nosed or cold, huh?” He’d been called both on a number of occasions. He’d thought the descriptions apt and had taken them as compliments. They wouldn’t be compliments coming from someone like Annie.

“No.”

“That’s your problem, then, Annie. You’re too nice. Instead of getting mad at people who treat you badly—”

“You’ve never treated me badly,” she cut in, and for some reason her continued kindness annoyed him. He’d rather she be like everyone else he’d protected. Convinced that he was as cold as he pretended to be.

“I’ve never treated you kindly, either,” he pointed out. “I’ve done my job. That’s what I get paid for, but you continue to act like I’m doing you a huge favor.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” She stood, and she didn’t look vulnerable or young anymore. She looked angry. “Acting?”

“That wasn’t what I was saying.”

“Then what were you saying, Hunter? That I’m too foolish to know that you’re just here doing what you’ve been paid for? That I’m too stupid to realize that the only reason you’re talking to me right now is because you want answers about the doll and you’re afraid I’m going to have some kind of mental breakdown before I give them to you?” Her voice was soft, her tone light, but there was heat in her gaze.

“That’s not why—”

“You want to know the truth? A year ago, I might have been a fool and I might have been stupid. I trusted people because I wanted to think the best of everyone. After what I learned about Joe, I’m not that naive. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be kind.” She grabbed the folder and thrust it at him. “Yes, it’s Sophia’s doll. That’s the dress I made for it. Check the stitching. I didn’t have any pink thread so I used robin’s-egg blue.”

She spun on her heels and ran from the room.

She didn’t slam the bedroom door, but he heard the quiet snap of the lock.

He could have followed her. It would have been easy enough to unlock the door.

But he had the answer he needed. There was no need for further conversation.

He looked down at the photo of the headless doll. The dress was intricate and well made with puffy sleeves and some sort of gathers on the front. He’d call Joshua, ask him if the thread used on the dress was blue. Just to be sure.

If it was, then the doll had been taken the night of Joe Delacorte’s murder. Once they found the guy who’d tossed it into the safe-house yard, they should be able to connect him to Saunders and Fiske. Neither man would have a chance of escaping justice.

That should have excited Hunter. It was what he lived for. Seeing justice done, knowing he had done his part to make it happen.

It had always been enough before.

Right then, though, it felt empty. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the chase, victory in sight—none of it seemed nearly as important as making sure that Annie was okay. He hesitated, tempted to unlock Annie’s door and make sure she was. He wouldn’t, though. That would be crossing a line and walking into dangerous territory.

Cold detachment. It had served him well before. It would serve him well again.

He pulled out his cell phone and called Josh again.

FOUR

Annie knew she shouldn’t have gotten so upset, but Hunter’s attitude infuriated her. She was a grown woman with a child. Not some naive little girl. She knew he was doing his job. She didn’t have to be reminded of the fact over and over again.

She was doing her job, too. Staying inside, meeting with the prosecuting attorney, sticking by her agreement to testify against Saunders and Fiske even though she couldn’t help wondering if it was the right thing to do. After all, what did she really owe Joe?

In the years they’d been married, he’d apparently lied to her and stolen. He’d taken money that should have gone to their family and spent it on gambling.

She did owe Sophia, though.

A good life free of the shadows of her father’s mistakes.

She touched Sophia’s soft curls. Hunter had been right about one thing: Annie did need a friend. If she could have, she’d have picked up the phone and called her college roommate. Tabitha had always known the right thing to say and the right way to say it. She’d even tried to tell Annie that Joe wasn’t good enough for her.

Love was blind. Annie hadn’t seen anything but the good in Joe. She didn’t want to call that a mistake. They’d had plenty of good times together, and they’d gotten Sophia from their relationship. Annie would do it all again to have her daughter.

She just wished she’d known. She wished she hadn’t been so blind. Maybe then Joe would still be alive.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and paced across the room. She felt antsy and trapped. No jogs in the park like she’d been able to do in Milwaukee. No trips to playgrounds. No playdates. Nothing to take her mind off the looming trial or the danger that she was in.

It was no wonder she felt irritable and unhappy.

“Annie,” Hunter called, his voice soft.

Go away, she wanted to say, but she’d been raised with better manners than that. Besides, she wanted to prove that she wasn’t the immature little girl he seemed to think she was.

She opened the door and stepped into the hall. “What?”

“I called Joshua. He confirmed that the thread on the doll’s dress was blue.”

“Okay,” she said, because she’d known it would be. She had spent hours making that little dress. She’d wanted Sophia’s first doll to be something prettier than the dollar-store find Joe had brought home.

She felt guilty for thinking that.

He’d tried, and he really had loved Sophia. No matter how much Annie doubted everything else about her husband, she didn’t doubt that.

“The crime lab is going to process the doll,” Hunter continued. “Maybe we’ll get some evidence that will help us find the guy who tossed it into the yard. Once we find him, we should be able to connect him to Fiske and Saunders. There’s no other way he could have gotten the doll aside from one of them.”

“You think that will help at trial?”

“It will be one more mark against them, and when it comes to trial, more is better.”

“I hope you’re right, Hunter. If they aren’t convicted—”

“They will be,” he assured her.

“One thing I’ve learned the past year, Hunter, is that there aren’t any guarantees. So, I’m not going to celebrate until both men are locked away.”

He nodded and leaned his shoulder against the wall. It looked as though he had more to say, but he just watched her silently.

“If that’s all you wanted to say, I’m going back to bed.” She put her hand on the door, not really ready to go pace the room again, but not willing to stand in the hall having a stare-down with Hunter, either.

“I owe you an apology,” he said before she could close the door. “There’s nothing wrong with being kind. As a matter of fact, I could use a little more practice at it.”

“You’ve been perfectly kind,” she conceded, oddly touched by his apology. For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed absolutely sincere and absolutely himself.

“For the sake of my work, sure. But I need to spend a little more time being kind for the sake of kindness.” He flashed a quick smile, reached around her to push the door open. “If you’re going to try to get some more sleep, you’d better do it now. Sophia is usually up at the crack of dawn.”

He walked down the hall and disappeared into the kitchen.