Page 23 of The Woman Who Couldn't Scream
She eyed him.
He went into the kitchen and came back with canned soup in a mug and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was thebestcanned soup and thebestPB & J Kateri had ever eaten. He gave Kateri her meds, took away the dishes, then came back and stripped down to his shorts—Kateri noted his chest was in the same condition as his butt—and climbed in on the other side of the bed.
Lacey stood up, leaped over, snuggled against his shoulder, then looked back at Kateri smugly as if to say,Look who has him now.
“You little traitor,” Kateri told her.
Lacey playfully flipped her ears and put her head against his throat.
Stag chuckled deep in his chest. “She knows who the alpha male is and she knows his place at the top of the pack.”
Kateri’s eyes were already closing. “At the top of the pack… right under the alpha female.”
“Exactly where I want to be.”
She went to sleep smiling.
CHAPTER TEN
The next morning, Kateri woke to find herself alone except for one small blond cocker spaniel who now draped herself over Kateri’s outflung arm. “Traitor,” Kateri again told her sleepy-eyed girl dog, and scratched her between the ears. While Lacey lolled on the comforter, Kateri discovered her walking stick carefully propped up against the wall by the bed, and with that and the support of the end table, got to her feet.
She felt better. Still bruised, still achy, but with the sleep she needed she was ready to catch her some bad guys. In the kitchen she found coffee ready to brew, bread in the toaster, dog food and water in bowls on the floor and a note:Bed is short. I am long (but you knew that). Went in early to work. Take it easy today, sweetheart, or suffer my wrath.
“I am afraid,” she said out loud.
While Lacey feasted, Kateri buttered her toast and considered how to tackle the day. Head on, as always.
She walked outside, over to the patrol car parked at the curb, leaned down and asked, “Anything happen I should know about?”
Officer Norm Knowles sighed deeply. “Tourists using a hibachi on a picnic table and setting it on fire. Fender bender on Main leading to a fistfight and a night in jail. Speeders. Public intoxication.”
“So… the usual.”
“Yep. No sign of John Terrance. That sick bastard.” Norm had one adult son, the apple of his eye, and the idea of using his body as a defense made Norm’s lip curl.
“Thanks. I’m going to drop Lacey off at Mrs. Golobovitch’s, then head downtown for breakfast. Why don’t you go home and put your feet up?”
“I’ll do that.” He tilted his hat back. “You look better, Sheriff. Keep it that way.”
She slapped the top of the car. “I will.” She walked the two blocks to the Oceanview Café, braced herself, pushed open the door and walked into an atmosphere smelling of bacon, coffee and avid speculation.
Conversation stopped. In unison, all eyes turned to her.
She waited for the accusations of incompetence in the matter of the capture of John Terrance.
From the corner geezer table, Mr. Caldwell asked, “How you doing, Sheriff?”
Which on the surface sounded like a perfectly friendly inquiry. Except that Mr. Caldwell was an old sonofabitch who hated uppity women in principle and her in particular.
Kateri replied cautiously, “Pretty good.”
“You look like shit.”
Therewas the Mr. Caldwell she knew and despised.
He continued, “This your first time in here since the shooting?”
Her throat unexpectedly closed. She nodded.
