let him go through this alone. Plus, it was my fault that we were on that property. And you’ll need a ride home.”
Stanton spun around and stared at her.
She smiled and gave a casual hitch to one shoulder. “I’m taking a course to be a private investigator. One day I plan to have my own business. I didn’t cross police caution tape. I’d never do that. I just wanted to get a feel for the place.”
Zeke blinked hard. A P.I.? She was a good actress, missed her calling that’s for sure.
“Save it. He’ll be questioned,” Stanton said.
“And by the way,” Dena said. “Nobody from your department has come out to take a report from me. You know I was shot at today.”
Stanton stared at her again.
Zeke felt more pressure behind his knee.
“There’s strange stuff going on around here,” Dena said.
Stanton sneered. “It might be a good idea if you come along. I’ll take that statement from you. It could take a while to break this guy. You might have to wait for hours.”
Zeke stiffened at Stanton’s words. So, he really did think he was guilty of rape and murder. He kept his eyes straight ahead, wouldn’t give his old buddy the satisfaction of a response. They’d had their childhood rivalries, fights on the football field, but as adults they’d seemed to get along. How could he think this of him?
“I can wait,” Dena said. “Zeke’s situation is of greater importance. Mine could have been kids shooting rabbits.”
Yeah, like she believed that. Zeke shook his head. But he was relieved to know she was back to giving him support.
“Oh, and sweetie, you should take a jacket,” Dena said. “Now where did you put it?”
Rocky moved to the closet in the hallway.
“Here,” Rocky said and shoved the leather jacket forward.
Zeke almost laughed. Stanton wasn’t about to carry a jacket for the suspect.
“I’ll take it.” Dena grabbed it. “Zeke, you hung it up. Wow! I wondered where you’d left it. Geez, Rocky. Zeke and I’ve only been together for two months and look at the improvements. I’ll have him housebroken before you know it.”
Rocky looked confused, but nodded.
Zeke pressed his lips tight, impressed that Dena had worked into her conversation how long they’d known each other. Why she’d said that she was his girlfriend he had no idea, but somehow it was an odd comfort.
“Don’t look like his type,” Stanton said, with a sliver of sarcasm. He stepped around Zeke and opened the front door.
“Oh, and what is his type?” Dena asked.
“He goes for them fiery redheads, small country-type gals, not city slickers. Always has, haven’t ya boy?”
Zeke continued to walk through the courtyard, not about to succumb to Stanton’s jibes. Outside the courtyard gate, Detective Quimby and another officer leaned up against the Sheriff’s vehicle, deep in conversation. Several officers lingered in the driveway. Deep down he wanted to fight back, to lash out verbally and physically. He had to play the game. Go through the hoops. Listen to Dena’s advice from yesterday.
“Hey Zeke, want me to drive you to Indio, save Deputy Stanton’s time?” Dena asked.
She acted natural, and her heels clicked on the Spanish pavers. Zeke realized he liked the sound. It had been way too long since a woman had worn heels in his house.
“Nah,” he said. “I’ll go in with Dave.”
Dena smoothed her skirt. “I’d planned to go back to Los Angeles, to the office today, Deputy Stanton. But now I’ll stay over, of course.”
Zeke watched her. She must be desperate to find Carli’s murderer. He admired her spunk, and she got under Stanton’s skin and that felt good. It satisfied him on some deep inner level. She shot a grin his way. He couldn’t smile back, much as he wanted to, his face had frozen.
“See you downtown, babe,” she said, hurried over and pressed a soft warm kiss to his lips. Then she spun on her heel and waved a hand toward her car door. “See that hole in my car, Deputy Stanton? That’s from a gunshot.”
Stanton’s eyes widened.
Zeke tried to hide his surprise at her kiss. He touched the tips of his fingers to his lips. She really liked goading Dave. Huh, how about that? Now he could smile. Then Stanton shoved a hand on his head and pushed him down and into the back seat of the cop car, erasing all smiles. Imagine that…being transported in the back…in the freakin’ cage.
“No need to unpack my stuff, Irma,” he heard Dena call out as the door