“When I work late, yeah.”
I recognized that, from his perspective, it wasn’t the wisest course of action. He merely clamped his jaw a little tighter. “You were damned lucky the guy had a bad ticker.”
He hadn’t, until I got a hold of him. I pushed that aside and asked a significant question of my own.
“Has he attacked anyone else?”
His lips pursed together before he nodded. “We think this is the same guy who assaulted a woman in Thunder Bay two nights ago. And a week before, Guelph.”
I swallowed. “Are they okay?”
“He tore one apart. It looked like an animal attack. The other is still in hospital.” His gaze hardened. “You were very lucky.”
I’d like to say luck had something to do with it, but it hadn’t, not really. Did the fact he’d killed another justify that I’d killed him? He’d been more than willing to hurt me, and Trix. But shouldn’t the death bother me more than it did?
Maybe I was just in shock.
The officer’s eyes had dropped again to my sleeves. “Are you sure you’re okay? I should take you to the hospital.”
Not the first time he’d suggested it, but I shook my head. “I’m fine. I just want to get my dog and go home.”
We sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, and then Dr. Droolworthy appeared with Trix on her leash.
“She was a good girl.” The vet flashed me another heart-stopping smile, but his dark brows remained at low mast. “I x-rayed that leg. There was a recent fracture site, but it is fully healed. Have you noticed any pain or lameness over the last few months?”
My heart skipped a beat and then resumed at a rapid pace. I schooled my features into a concerned expression. “I run with her every day. I think I would have noticed if she’d broken her leg.”
The vet shrugged. “Sometimes hairline fractures can deceive if the bone is not displaced. She might not have been that sore on it.” Still, I saw that his opinion of me as a responsible and attentive dog owner had slipped substantially.
I sighed. Considering the night’s events, it was a small thing. The officer watched as I pulled my debit card from my pocket to pay for the vet’s hard work.Yikes.The total was well above my touch tap limit.
“Someone might come to talk with you about this,” he told me as I punched numbers. “He’s working with us on this case. Name is Jason. Not sure he’ll make the trip to Kenora, or if he’ll send one of his guys.”
“Another police officer?”
He shook his head. “Not one of ours. He consults with the RCMP. This case and the perpetrator have generated a lot of interest.”
I rubbed my temple. “Okay. Not sure what else I can add.” Other than glowing eyes. Claws. The fact I’d killed him and then apparently healed my dog.
Any one of which would guarantee I would never be permitted to enroll in the Canadian Armed Forces.
The officer moved to the door. “Sometimes, shock makes you forget things. You might remember them after you’ve rested.”
That innocent remark hit me like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. But I managed a smile that likely looked rather sickly. “You never know, I guess.”
He opened the door for me. “Best if I take you straight home for now.” His jaw had that official set to it, so I followed him out to the patrol car. Trix bounced along as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
Of course, she’d just had strong, capable hands run all over her body...
Oh, to be a dog.
* * *
My home seemed different, somehow. Although I was relieved when the officer left after doing a careful patrol of my yard and house—did naked-ish attackers come in gangs?—I found myself jumpy as hell. It was a warm night, but I shut and locked every window.
Despite soaking in a hot shower and wrapping my body in flannel, I lay in bed and shook.
I got up and added two more blankets, even though the little voice in my head prattled on about shock and reaction and it having nothing whatsoever to do with temperature.
