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Authors: Ellen O'Connell
Tags: Mystery & Crime
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one loosely to a seat belt anchor. Dennis took his belt back and gave the other to its owner, who disappeared into the night. Both Dennis and Karen relaxed visibly with the dogs away from them and restrained.
I left the back door open and sat on the floor of the back of the car. Sophie leaned against me, her solid body a comfort. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m sorry the dogs scared you. They really wouldn’t hurt you.”
“When we first saw them they were charging across here like the hounds of hell,” Dennis said. “Small wonder that son of a bitch let you go and ran.”
Karen rescued my groceries from where they sat abandoned and unloaded them into the passenger’s side of the front seat for me.
“At least he didn’t get your purse,” she said, putting it on the driver’s seat.
In spite of my assurances that I was all right and they didn’t have to stay, the Conradys waited with me and stayed even when the paramedics arrived, closely followed by two police cars.
The paramedics were gentle and sympathetic until they realized my insistence that I was fine and wasn’t going to a hospital was for real. At that point the slim young Hispanic who had been cleaning the wound on my neck disappeared.
His older Anglo partner continued to argue with me until I mentioned just using some Super Glue on my neck myself when I got home. At that point he stomped into the back of the ambulance, came out with a tube of medical glue, and used it to close the cuts with a marked ungentleness.
“Our report’s going to say you refused treatment,” he said.
He ignored my thanks and joined his partner in the cab of the vehicle. They roared off in a cloud of disapproving exhaust.
Their departure left a few members of Parker’s finest as the only barrier between me and home. The Town of Parker has its own police department, but most of the area known as Parker, including my own address, is not in the town limits and is served by the sheriff’s department. One of the small blessings of the evening’s events was that the grocery store was in the town limits, so the officers I faced were strangers, and not Lieutenant Forrester, or, worse, Deputy Carraher.
One of the officers talked to Dennis and Karen Conrady and a few of the other shoppers. When the instinctive human desire not to be involved melted the rest of the watching crowd away, he dragged the pieces of my car window out of sight behind the store.
I gave the officer questioning me a straightforward account of exactly what had happened without mentioning my previous encounter with a man in black and refused to speculate on motive. After promising to sign a sworn statement at the station the next day, I was ready to force my stiffening body to move, when the officer spoke again.
“You need to be careful with those dogs, you know. It could get nasty if they took off after some innocent citizen.”
“Sophie is seven years old,” I said icily, “and she’s never ‘taken off’ after anyone until she met a criminal the police obviously haven’t caught and locked up.”
The only answer to that was another car door slamming as the officer joined his partner in the cruiser and they left the parking lot.
“Well, it looks to me as if you’ve got enough starch left to get yourself home safely,” Dennis Conrady said with a chuckle.
He and Karen watched me move slowly and stiffly into the driver’s seat and insisted I lock the doors on my car in spite of the gaping hole where the driver’s side back window used to be. They waved off my sincere thanks and watched me drive away.
Dennis was right. I made it home, got the perishable groceries put away, fed Bella and the dogs, checked the lock on every window and door twice, and swallowed several Advil. Then I crashed.
Chapter 7
----
Early the next morning, as I soaked away some of my stiffness in bath water aromatic with lavender essential oil and frothy with bubbles, I decided that no matter how much
I left the back door open and sat on the floor of the back of the car. Sophie leaned against me, her solid body a comfort. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m sorry the dogs scared you. They really wouldn’t hurt you.”
“When we first saw them they were charging across here like the hounds of hell,” Dennis said. “Small wonder that son of a bitch let you go and ran.”
Karen rescued my groceries from where they sat abandoned and unloaded them into the passenger’s side of the front seat for me.
“At least he didn’t get your purse,” she said, putting it on the driver’s seat.
In spite of my assurances that I was all right and they didn’t have to stay, the Conradys waited with me and stayed even when the paramedics arrived, closely followed by two police cars.
The paramedics were gentle and sympathetic until they realized my insistence that I was fine and wasn’t going to a hospital was for real. At that point the slim young Hispanic who had been cleaning the wound on my neck disappeared.
His older Anglo partner continued to argue with me until I mentioned just using some Super Glue on my neck myself when I got home. At that point he stomped into the back of the ambulance, came out with a tube of medical glue, and used it to close the cuts with a marked ungentleness.
“Our report’s going to say you refused treatment,” he said.
He ignored my thanks and joined his partner in the cab of the vehicle. They roared off in a cloud of disapproving exhaust.
Their departure left a few members of Parker’s finest as the only barrier between me and home. The Town of Parker has its own police department, but most of the area known as Parker, including my own address, is not in the town limits and is served by the sheriff’s department. One of the small blessings of the evening’s events was that the grocery store was in the town limits, so the officers I faced were strangers, and not Lieutenant Forrester, or, worse, Deputy Carraher.
One of the officers talked to Dennis and Karen Conrady and a few of the other shoppers. When the instinctive human desire not to be involved melted the rest of the watching crowd away, he dragged the pieces of my car window out of sight behind the store.
I gave the officer questioning me a straightforward account of exactly what had happened without mentioning my previous encounter with a man in black and refused to speculate on motive. After promising to sign a sworn statement at the station the next day, I was ready to force my stiffening body to move, when the officer spoke again.
“You need to be careful with those dogs, you know. It could get nasty if they took off after some innocent citizen.”
“Sophie is seven years old,” I said icily, “and she’s never ‘taken off’ after anyone until she met a criminal the police obviously haven’t caught and locked up.”
The only answer to that was another car door slamming as the officer joined his partner in the cruiser and they left the parking lot.
“Well, it looks to me as if you’ve got enough starch left to get yourself home safely,” Dennis Conrady said with a chuckle.
He and Karen watched me move slowly and stiffly into the driver’s seat and insisted I lock the doors on my car in spite of the gaping hole where the driver’s side back window used to be. They waved off my sincere thanks and watched me drive away.
Dennis was right. I made it home, got the perishable groceries put away, fed Bella and the dogs, checked the lock on every window and door twice, and swallowed several Advil. Then I crashed.
Chapter 7
----
Early the next morning, as I soaked away some of my stiffness in bath water aromatic with lavender essential oil and frothy with bubbles, I decided that no matter how much
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