Friction

“I wouldn’t be asking,” Neal said smoothly, “except that it’s germane to this investigation.”

 

 

His abuse of authority angered Crawford as nothing else could have. “Germane my ass, Neal. You’re trying to humiliate me, that’s all. What I think, you’re still pissed off because I felt up your sister.”

 

Nugent gulped with astonishment.

 

Neal said nothing, but his eyes shot daggers.

 

Instantly regretful, Crawford sighed as he pushed his fingers through his hair. “That was a cheap shot. You’re a prick, Neal, and you deserved it. But your sister didn’t.”

 

To his surprise, Neal actually smiled, but nastily. “I would expect no less from you. Besides, you’re sitting there, and I’m sitting here. I’ve been placed in charge of investigating this fatal shooting incident, and it’s up to you to convince me.”

 

His tone set Crawford’s teeth on edge. “Convince you of what?”

 

“That you were in a sound and stable state of mind when you confronted Jorge Rodriguez on the roof of the courthouse, and that your actions in no way contributed to his getting killed.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

 

The front door was opened before Crawford could ring the bell. “Mrs. Amberson?”

 

“Hello, Mr. Hunt. Joe called. I was watching for you. Come in.”

 

“Thanks for this. I’m sorry to bother you so late.”

 

“No bother, and please call me Susan.”

 

The Gilroys’ neighbor looked younger than the title grandmother implied. Susan Amberson was trim, attractive, and smiled cordially as she stood aside and motioned him into the cheery entryway of her home.

 

She said, “After what happened today, I can understand why you’d want to see Georgia.”

 

“Experiencing something like that…”

 

When he trailed off, she finished for him. “Makes you want to touch base with people you love.” She smiled at him with complete understanding. “I’ve watched the news stories about it. Tragic. I don’t know if Grace will ever recover.”

 

“I haven’t seen her yet. I came straight here after Joe said you’d agreed to let me stop by. I apologize for keeping you up.”

 

“Frank’s already in bed, but I’m a night owl. No problem at all.”

 

Crawford assumed the referred-to Frank was her husband. He was glad he wouldn’t be required to make small talk with anyone else and was grateful to Susan Amberson for not pressing him for details about the events of the day as she led him down a center hallway toward the back of the one-story house.

 

“Thank you for watching Georgia all day,” he said. “I hope she wasn’t any trouble.”

 

“None at all. She’s a darling girl. Uses her manners.”

 

“Good to hear. What’s your granddaughter’s name?”

 

“Amy. I tuckered the two of them out.”

 

He followed her into a bedroom illuminated by a small lamp on the nightstand between twin beds. His heart constricted when he saw Georgia’s mop of blond curls and her sweet face. Her lips were bowed. She was breathing through them.

 

“She snores,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

 

Sensing his embarrassment, she touched his arm briefly. “Take all the time you like.”

 

She withdrew and Crawford moved to the bed where Georgia slept. In the other was a little girl of similar age and size, but his attention belonged entirely to his daughter as he gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. Mr. Bunny, the stuffed toy she wouldn’t sleep without, lay in the crook of her elbow.

 

For several moments, he simply stared into her face; then he reached for a lock of hair and rubbed the curl between his fingers. Her lips made a sucking motion, then she swiped her cheek with the back of her hand and opened her eyes.

 

Sleepily she blinked him into focus. “Daddy!”

 

“Shh, don’t wake up your friend.”

 

She sat up to receive his hug and return it. “Have you come to get me? Is it tomorrow yet?”

 

“Not yet. I just wanted to stop in and see how you were doing.”

 

“Good.” Yawning broadly, she lay back down and nestled the back of her head into the pillow.

 

“You like your new playmate? Amy.”

 

“Um-huh. She’s nice. We had a tea party and got to dress up in Miss Susan’s hats. I wore beads, too.”

 

“Yeah? How’d the cookies turn out?”

 

“We sprinkled sugar on top. Mine were pink.” She yawned again. “Do you want to sleep with me?”

 

“I don’t think we would fit on this bed.”

 

“You’re too big.”

 

“Me? You and Mr. Bunny are taking up all the space.” He poked her lightly in the belly, and she giggled. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Go back to sleep, but give me a kiss first.” He leaned down. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

 

“Good night, Daddy. I love you.”

 

“’Night, sweetheart. I love you, too.”

 

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. He waited until she was softly snoring again before reluctantly tiptoeing from the room.

 

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