"I just think it's a little odd that you're having dinner with a guy and you felt the need to bring a weapon. Have you been out with him before?"
The delivery guy from Anthony's showed up with the lasagna. He looked at the scene, and his eyes rounded. "Um, I got a delivery."
The delightful smell wafted through the foyer, but I had lost my appetite.
"This is a crime scene," an officer said.
"I'll just leave this here," the delivery guy said, putting the bag of to-go boxes on the porch. He backed away, taking in the morbid sight.
"What was your relationship with Grayson?" Scarborough asked.
"It's complicated," I said.
He lifted a curious brow. "I'm listening."
"Look, two men rang the doorbell. When Grayson answered, they shot him, stormed in, and I'm pretty sure they would have killed me, or worse, if I hadn’t returned fire. If I'm not mistaken, I'm well within my rights to do that."
"I don't mean to upset you, ma'am. I'm just trying to be thorough."
"Well, as you can see, I'm upset."
"You don't seemthatupset. You seem to be handling this pretty well."
"Would you prefer it if I was a basket case right now?"
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm in IT sales."
"IT sales,” he said in a suspicious voice. “They teach you how to use a weapon at your company?"
What a prick.
"No.” I snarked back, “Self-defense is a personal hobby."
"You made a hell of a shot from the kitchen. Under pressure, fine motor skills degrade. Yet you put two shots, center mass, into that intruder,” he said, pointing to the dead thug. “You know 90% of gunshots miss within 10 feet during police firefights. These are trained professionals, and they can’t hit thebroad side of a barn when it counts. Yet you dropped this guy with precision."
"I stay calm under pressure."
"I see that. Do you have a military background?"
"Why are you focusing on me and not the intruders? One of them got away!"
"So you say."
Rage flushed my cheeks. "Check the video doorbell. You'll see them both approach."
"There's a video doorbell?"
My eyes narrowed at him. "Didn't you notice it on the way in?"
His jaw flexed. "There are a lot of details to take in when approaching a scene like this. My main concern is if the active shooter is still present. Where's your weapon now?"
"On the kitchen table," I said, pointing.
"I'll need to confiscate that, temporarily, of course. The lab will run ballistics, and we’ll determine who shot who." He paused. "How about you come down to the station and make an official statement?"
"I just made an official statement."
