Don't Look (Pike, Wisconsin #1) - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,89

directly toward Parker Bowen, who was opening the back door of the van.

“Has there been another murder?” Lynne bluntly demanded.

Parker shook his head, looking almost disappointed. “Not this time.”

“What do you mean?”

Parker shrugged, removing his expensive trench coat and replacing it with a heavy parka. “Looks like a hit-and-run.” He headed toward the driver’s door and pulled it open.

“Are you leaving?”

“This is second-team stuff,” Parker told her, pointing toward the aged sedan that had just pulled into the parking lot.

A young woman with long blond hair and an eager expression jumped out and headed toward the deputy, who was draping crime-scene tape across the alley between the café and an empty building. Parker got in the van and drove away.

Kir shook his head in disgust. “He’s a real winner.”

Lynne turned her attention toward the EMTs who were leaving the alley and heading toward the waiting ambulance. She sucked in a shocked breath as they got near enough to see the patient strapped to the gurney they were pushing.

“Oh my God, is that Rita?”

Kir’s breath hissed between his teeth as he caught sight of the woman’s ashen face heavily flecked with blood. He felt as if he’d just been punched in the gut. “I’ll be back,” he muttered, shoving his way through the gathering crowd.

By the time he reached the ambulance they had loaded Rita inside and closed the doors. Damn. He had to discover which hospital they were taking her to. Jogging toward the front of the vehicle, he was abruptly halted as the sheriff stepped directly in his path.

“Get out of my crime scene,” Kathy snapped.

Kir cursed as the ambulance drove away. “Is Rita going to the hospital in Grange?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

Kir whirled back to face her, deliberately towering over her. He was done pandering to this woman’s petty need to push people around. If she didn’t feel competent to do her job, she should quit. She was putting the entire town in danger.

“Dammit, she was a friend of my father,” he snarled. “Maybe his only friend at the end. If she’s been hurt, I’m going to make sure she gets the medical care she needs.”

Kathy flushed at his fierce tone. “She doesn’t need a doctor, she needs an undertaker,” she snapped. Kir jerked in shock and the woman released a harsh sigh. “I’m sorry,” she forced herself to mutter before turning and walking toward the alley.

Kir stood still, trying to absorb the unexpected pain. Poor, sad Rita. She’d spent years being punished for marrying the wrong man. She should have had a chance to redeem her future. To find peace.

Instead she’d been run down in an alley. Where was the justice in that?

Justice. The word echoed through the back of his mind. Yes. That’s what she deserved.

Turning on his heel, Kir scanned the group standing next to the crime-scene tape. He focused in on the clutch of elderly men who were watching the scurry of officials with obvious impatience. He was betting they were waiting to return to the café and finish their lunch. Or maybe they’d been in the middle of a card game.

They seemed the most likely to know something.

He strolled to stand next to the group, trying to look casual. “Did anyone witness the accident?”

A man who Kir was guessing to be in his sixties with a ruddy face and watery blue eyes shook his head.

“Nope. Chester was taking out the trash from the lunch crowd when he saw Rita lying behind the dumpster.”

Kir was about to ask where he could find Chester when he was struck by something the man had said. “Behind the dumpster? You’re sure?”

The man frowned, as if he assumed Kir was one of those morbid people who took joy in tragedy. “Yeah,” he reluctantly answered. “Chester said she was jammed against the wall. He nearly didn’t see her. He just caught a peek of her boots sticking out. Terrible tragedy.” With a shake of his head the man turned away, closing ranks with his friends, who eyed Kir with suspicion.

Kir sighed before making his way back to Lynne, who reached out to grab his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Rita’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.” She squeezed his fingers. “A hit-and-run?”

Kir glanced toward the alley where the sheriff and her deputy were already clearing away the crime-scene tape.

“That seems to be the general assumption,” he muttered.

Lynne stared at him in confusion. “Is there a reason you don’t believe it?”

His jaw tightened as the crowd hurried back into the café and the officials crawled into