“I know you didn’t mean to.” She checked the number. Zoey had transposed two of the digits of the area code. Jennie’s fingers hovered over the keypad. “I’m going to give this guy a piece of my mind.”
Zoey gripped Jennie’s wrist, halting her from typing. “No, momma. Wait. Don’t do that.”
“Why on Earth not?” In her opinion, the sooner someone told the man off, the better.
“Because…” Zoey ran to her room and returned with a card. “Let me call the detective.”
“What detective?” How had her daughter gotten her hands on a police officer’s business card?
Petite hands waved the small paper. “Two detectives came to our school today. They told us to call if anything weird ever happened.” Zoey took the phone, punched in the number, and held it to her ear. “Detective? This is Zoey from school. I have a problem.”
Chapter 3
Thursday 7:00 p.m.
Under normal circumstances, David preferred driving. His partner drove like a ninety-nine-year-old grandmother. But after last night’s incident and subsequent stitches and fainting episode, Brandon refused to trust him behind the wheel. David had pointed out that he’d made it home without incident earlier, but Brandon only shook his head and told him to stop complaining. He was currently at the man’s mercy.
David’s mind raced as fast as the trees whizzing by. Only this morning, he’d handed Zoey his number, and the young girl had already called. “I wonder what happened over the past several hours?”
“I have no idea, but at least we know she listened.”
“That’s true. I guess we’ll find out in a few minutes.”
His partner grunted his response.
David exhaled and stared at the passing scenery. His mind drifted to the nurse who’d witnessed his embarrassing fainting spell last night. Her reaction when he tried to help her made his skin crawl. He’d witnessed too much violence in his career not to notice the aftereffects of abuse when he saw it. He debated whether to do some digging on her behalf or let it be. Right. He wasn’t thelet it betype of guy.
“This is it.” Brandon’s comment pulled him from his thoughts.
His partner parked at the curb in front of a bright yellow bungalow with cedar steps leading to a white porch. Planter boxes hung from the rail, red and pink geraniums spilling over the edge. A matching white picket fence enclosed the property.
“Looks like a quaint little cottage.” David swung open the passenger door and stepped onto the sidewalk.
“If I recall, this is Emily Hanover’s place.” Brandon joined him.
He glanced at his partner. “I thought she lived in town.” Pinewood Shores was a small enough town that he knew most folks on sight but big enough he could still keep a few secrets. He didn’t want his failure known all over town.
“She does. She inherited the property years ago and turned it into a rental sometime in the past six or so years.”
No wonder he hadn’t known. He’d only recently moved to Pinewood Shores and hadn’t learned all the details of the town’s residents—yet.
David strode up the steps and knocked on the door.
The wooden door swung open, and Zoey’s face pressed against the screen.
“Detective. You came.” The girl’s face flashed with relief. She called over her shoulder. “Momma, the detectives are here.” The outer door flung open.
He and Brandon entered the comfortable looking cottage.
A beautiful blonde waltzed in, hair in a messy bun, wiping her hands on a towel. “Sorry. I’m in the middle of….” She froze. Her eyes widened. “Detective Whitman?”
Great. Just what he needed. Jennie Nielson, the nurse who’d witnessed his embarrassing emergency room blackout. “Ma’am.”
“What are you doing here?”
“This young lady called.” He gestured to Zoey. “Said she needed help. I’m assuming she’s your daughter.”
Jennie sighed. “Right.” Her gaze landed on his partner. “Sorry for my lack of manners. I don’t think we were formally introduced yesterday at the hospital. I’m Jennie Nielson, and this is my daughter, Zoey.”
