Protector - Laurel Dewey [95]
Jane felt cold and vacant as she looked into Chris’ eyes. It was so clear to her at that very moment why they could never again be partners on or off the force. “A mistake?” Jane said softly. “That’s how you describe all of this?”
“Well, it was.”
“Take your fucking cold hand off my leg and get out of my sight.”
Chris pulled back. “Jane, I just—”
“Are you fucking deaf?” Jane yelled as she looked to her right and saw evidence technician Ron Dickson standing in the sterile hallway. She immediately felt embarrassed by her expletive, realizing that Ron heard her. “Ron,” she said haltingly.
“Good evening, Detective Perry. Detective Crawley,” Ron said.
Chris stood up and acknowledged Ron.
“What are you doing here?” Jane asked Ron. “I didn’t know that evidence techs got paged for stuff like this.”
Ron moved closer to Jane. She noticed that he seemed troubled. “Oh, it’s actually an unfortunate coincidence.”
Chris observed Ron. “You’re shaking there, pal. You okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve just had a rocky last few hours.”
“What do you mean?” Chris said, closely watching Ron’s every move.
“I was helping my wife cut up beeswax for her famous herbal salve and the knife slipped. I darn near cut off the tip of my left finger.” Ron held up his bandaged hand.
“You okay?” Jane asked.
“Oh, it’ll be just fine,” Ron said, dismissing the question. “When I heard about your little girl in there—”
“My little girl?” Jane said quickly.
“Well, I mean to say you were looking after her and all.” Ron quickly sniffed a ball of snot up his nose. “I’m sorry. I’m a little discombobulated. I just got word from one of the patrol cops about Martha. I’m in shock,” Ron said, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” Jane replied.
“I’ll let you and Detective Crawley go about your business,” Ron said as he stole a look in Emily’s direction. “God bless you both.”
Ron started off when Chris quickly spoke up. “Hey, Ron! You need a ride home? I could take you. It’s no problem.”
“No, thank you. My wife will take me home.”
“Really?” Chris said, his voice becoming slightly intense. “Where is your wife?” Chris suddenly became an inquisitor.
Ron rubbed his hand in obvious pain. “Oh, she’s gone out to get the car. She had to park pretty far away after she dropped me off. I’m sorry, I need to go. I’m not feeling very well. My wife and I will keep you in our prayers. Both of you.” Ron turned and walked down the hallway.
Chris moved several steps into the hallway, watching Ron’s every last move. “Yeah, bud, I’ll bet you’ll be praying real hard,” Chris said under his breath.
“Chris, what’s wrong with you?” Jane asked.
“Jane! Have you lost your touch? I thought you were a student of observation. Body language and the whole nine yards.”
“What about it?”
“He’s shaking like a fucking perp. And he’s sniffing like a fucking coke fiend.”
Jane stood up, disgusted. “You have got to be kidding!” “There are no coincidences, Jane.”
“You’re not seriously trying to say that Ron could—”
“Jane, think about it! He cut his finger chopping beeswax for an herbal salve? What kind bullshit is that?”
“His wife makes the stuff! He offered me the salve for my burn. Ron is—”
“Shhh! Let’s just keep this to ourselves until I can investigate further,” Chris said in a hushed, confidential tone.
“My God!” Jane said, completely bewildered. “I’ve said it before, Chris, and I’ll say it again. You have got to do something about that paranoia.”
“No, Jane. I’ve got to do something about solving this case. You may not be able to see what’s standing right in front of you. But I’m not going to make that mistake again.” Chris turned to walk down the hallway, then stopped and looked back at Jane. “I’ve got some questions I want you to ask that kid. It can wait for a few days until she’s back on her feet. Until then, I’m gonna do a little private investigation of Mr. Dickson.”
“Chris, you’re crazy.”
“Crazy like a fox, kid. Wake up, Jane!” Chris said with a smirk. “I’m gonna solve this crime and I’m gonna put DH back in good favor. And I will get