Page 143 of The Witness


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The way he took a breath told her he was trying to cool his temper.

“I’m telling you because he’ll only be more intimidatingand bullying if he comes back. I’m telling you because I want him to understand action will be taken if he tries to harass you, or anyone else. I asked the same of Russ, his wife, his parents, told my deputies to tell their families.”

She nodded, felt less annoyed. “I see.”

“He’s in a rage, Abigail. His money and his position, as he sees it, aren’t making this one go away. His son’s behind bars, and very likely to be behind them for a very long time.”

“He loves his son.”

“I don’t know about that, either, honest to God. But I know his ego’s bound up in it. Nobody’s going to put his boy in jail. Nobody’s going to sully the Blake name. He’s going to put everything he’s got into fighting this, and if that means pushing at you, he’ll push.”

“I’m not afraid of him. It also matters to me I’m not afraid of him.”

“I can see that. I don’t want you to be afraid, but I want you to call me if he comes here again, if he tries to talk to you on the street, if he or anybody associated with him contacts you in any way. You’re a witness, and you’re damn well under my protection.”

“Don’t say that.” Her heart literally skipped. “I don’t want to be under anyone’s protection.”

“It is what it is.”

“No. No, no.” Now panic spurted, fast and hot. “I’ll contact you if he comes here again, because it’s unethical for him to try to influence me to lie and it’s illegal for him to bribe me to lie. But I don’t want or need protection.”

“Calm down, now.”

“I’m responsible for myself. I can’t be with you if you don’t understand and agree I’m responsible for myself.”

She’d taken several steps back, and the dog had ranged himself in front of her.

“Abigail, you may be—you are, as far as I can tell—capable of handling most anything that comes at you. But I’m duty bound to protect everybody within my jurisdiction. That includes you. And I don’t like you using my feelings for you as a weapon to get your own way.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“You damn well are.”

“I’m not—” She broke off, searched for calm, for sense. “It’s not what I meant to do. I apologize.”

“Screw apologize. Don’t ever use what I feel as a hammer.”

“You’re so angry with me. I didn’t mean to use your feelings. I didn’t. I’m clumsy in this kind of situation. I’ve neverbeen in this kind of situation. I don’t know what to do, what to say or how to say it. I just don’t want you to feel particular responsibility for me. I don’t know how to explain how uneasy it would make me if you did.”

“Why don’t you try?”

“You’re angry and tired, and your dinner’s gone cold.” It appalled her to feel tears running down her cheeks. “I never meant for any of this to happen. I never thought you’d be so upset about Blake. I’m not doing the right thing, but I don’t know what is. I don’t mean to cry. I know tears are another weapon, and I don’t mean them as one.”

“I know you don’t.”

“I’ll—warm up the food.”

“It’s fine.” He rose, got a fork from the drawer, then sat again. “Fine,” he repeated after he’d scooped some up, sampled.

“You should use the chopsticks.”

“Never got the hang of them.”

“I could teach you.”

“I’ll take you up on that some other time. Sit down and eat.”

“I— You’re still angry. You’re pushing it down because I cried. So the tears are a weapon.”