Realization rustled through Laurel’s brain. “Oh.” She had missed the inference in his words. “Do you believe the interview will be beneficial?”
“I do,” he said. “Otherwise, I’d be putting my head through a wall right now. We managed to get Abbott’s face on the screen as well as the number for the 24-hour hotline. I’m hopeful somebody will call in a good lead.”
“As am I.” She pressed the phone’s speaker button and began to knit. “My mother seems to think that the baby will inherit the good parts of all of us. What do you think?”
“I’m hoping the kid has my height,” Huck returned easily.
Laurel snorted. “As am I, but you know we have no control over which chromosomes we pass on to offspring.” Or was he trying to ease her mind? He might have been joking, but she really did want the child to have his height.
“I hope he or she has your eyes.”
Laurel sat back, her fingers moving quickly. “I don’t know if I do. People view me as an oddity, and it took me awhile to become accustomed to it. You have pretty eyes, Huck. They’re more than brown, kind of amber. Maybe the baby should have your eyes.”
“I don’t think we get to choose. Remember?” Huck laughed. “It sounds like you and your mother had a nice talk.”
“We did, but I still hold concerns that I lack the appropriate skills to be a good mother.”
Huck scoffed. “As long as you stick around, you’re better than the mother I got.”
Was there pain in his voice? She couldn’t tell. “I don’t know why your mother left, but I imagine she regretted that decision her entire life.”
“I don’t know.” Huck sighed. “Damn it.”
Her fingers slowed. “What?”
“I have a car in front of me weaving all over the place. I think someone’s been drinking.” The sound of a siren echoed over the line as he no doubt flicked his on. “I have to go, Laurel. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
“Have a good night, Huck.”
The sound of the gear shift being locked into Park clunked through the line. “You, too, and we’ll worry about all of this later.”
“I like that plan. Good night.” She continued to knit, trying to banish her erratic concerns. Hopefully Huck would call in backup. Should she have suggested it?
* * *
The Cadillac in front of Huck had swerved over to the side and hit a dirty snowbank. He called in for backup from the county, finishing with, “I’m going to need somebody else to bring the driver in for processing. I have my truck with the dog in the back and am unable to transport.” He clicked off just as a car rolled to a stop behind him. His hand on his weapon, he stretched out of the vehicle, turning.
“Hey, Huck, it’s just me,” Rachel Raprenzi called out, stepping out of her dark blue compact behind him.
“Get back in the vehicle,” he said, using his best cop voice. “Now.”
She faltered and then did as he said. Great, now the reporter was following him? He’d already called in the license number of the vehicle in front of him, and he walked toward the passenger door, angling his head to make sure there wasn’t anybody in the back seat. He had to knock on the front door window. It slowly rolled down.
“What’s wrong, Officer?” a female voice slurred.
He pointed his flashlight inside the vehicle to see the mayor’s wife in the front seat, her eyes bloodshot and the smell of alcohol pouring from her. Just wonderful. This was all he needed. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“I do not.” She hiccupped. “I do know that you’re messing with the wrong person, so I suggest you get back in your truck.” She narrowed her gaze. “I know you, don’t I?”
“Captain Huck Rivers,” he said. “License and registration, please.”
She snorted. “You know who I am. I’m Teri Bearing, the mayor’s wife.”
“Yes, I remember.” Huck had interviewed her for an earlier case. At the time, she had seemed like a nice person. “Mrs. Bearing, have you been drinking tonight?”
“No,” she said.
Right. She smelled as if she’d crashed into a liquor store. “License and registration, please.”
