Fortified by anger, she slowly, insolently, crossed her arms. It gave her some pleasure that, despite this paramilitary creep’s bulk, their eyes were level. He might have more muscle than her, but he wasn’t any taller. She strove to sound confused. “I know some good cops, but I haven’t gotten any of them in trouble.”
He bared his teeth and leaned in. “You know who I’m talking about, bitch. What, were you spreading your legs for that chico?”
She rolled her eyes. Really? Was that the best he could come up with as a slur, calling Antonio a little boy? Or was he being considerate in deference to her feminine sensibilities? Yeah, probably not.
“Am I meant to be insulted? If so, it didn’t work. Antonio seemed like a pleasant man. Obviously, Andrew Hayes’s girlfriend agreed with me.” She stuck out her chin, matching the creep’s body language. “I’m hoping she didn’t realize her boyfriend was so crazy, he’d kill a man just because he dared talk to her.”
“Well, here’s something to think about.” He stepped back. “Watch yourself when you’re out on county roads. You end up in a head-on collision? We’re going to be real slow bringing the jaws of life to pull you out.” He shook his head. “Got to give a little to get a little, Ms. Granath.”
He turned and walked away. The bell attached to the top of the door rang and he was gone.
Her anger swirled and disappeared down the drain, taking all her starch with it. Tess discovered her knees were knocking and her legs felt like Jell-O. With a whimper, she sank onto a heap of carpet samples, where she did nothing but tremble for several minutes.
Not until her hand had quit shaking did she reach for her phone.
* * *
“WHAT DO YOU mean you didn’t see a name?” Zach scowled at her over the dinner table. “It should have been right here.” He tapped his T-shirt right where the nameplate would presumably have been pinned on a uniform shirt.
“I looked. He must have taken it off.”
“Describe him again.”
He was mad that she’d called Detective Easley instead of him. And, since Easley apparently didn’t work on Mondays, all she’d done was leave a voice mail. As she had repeatedly pointed out to Zach, the man today hadn’t committed a crime. He hadn’t even threatened to come after her. All he’d said was that she wouldn’t get very good service from the sheriff’s department. Knowing it would make him even more furious, she hadn’t repeated the jaws-of-life reference, only saying that they wouldn’t hurry to help if she were to be in an accident, and Zach himself had once said the same.
Now she patiently did her best to describe the deputy again. The lack of distinguishing features clearly annoyed Zach all over again.
“That could be anyone,” he grumbled when she was done.
“The shaved head isn’t that common, is it?”
“Half the younger guys go for that look.”
“You won’t, will you?” Tess wrinkled her nose. “It’s kind of creepy.”
He ran his hand through his hair as if for reassurance. “No.”
She tried a tentative smile. “You wouldn’t be able to pull it when you’re frustrated.”
His look said he was not amused. “Brown eyes. You’re sure?”
“Or a brownish hazel.”
He grunted. “Call me next time, okay?”
Tess refrained from rolling her eyes. “I will, but what could you have done?”
“Hung around until Greg got back.”
She managed to coax him into telling her about his day. He was expecting three bids on the job of replumbing his house, and had stripped and sanded the molding in two of the bedrooms. He’d pretty well ruled Sam Doyle out as his sister’s killer, although he seemed embarrassed when he admitted that he had offered him the chance to bid on the job.
“He actually seemed like an okay guy,” he finally admitted.
When she rose to start clearing the table, Zach took the dirty dishes from her hands. “You worked today, I didn’t.”
“But you cooked,” she protested. Hamburgers, potato salad and green beans.
“You deserve to relax.”