Page 5 of Housesitter

That made Patrol Officer Annie Warwick—she’d also dated Kel’s cousin (the same one) and it hadn’t ended well either—give him a dirty look.

“No one said you did,” she pointed out. “It’s interesting your mind went there, though.”

Kel snorted as he crossed his arms and shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“Let’s not play that game,” he said. “I’ve had bad blood with Madden. I know it, and so do you. If something’s happened to him—”

“He’s dead,” Warwick pointed out tartly. “Most people think that’s a lot of something.”

Kel ignored that as he went on. “…happened to him, then my name is going to come up. So, for the record, it wasn’t me.”

“Sounds like what someone guilty would say.”

“Or someone innocent,” Kel countered.

The association of Kel and ‘innocent’ made Warwick snort. That was…OK, it was understandable. Still rude, though. She apparently didn’t care about his opinion because she pressed on.

“You know what innocent people do?” she said. “They don’t keep shifting their weight like they’re about to book it for the exit.”

She said that just as Kel shifted again. It didn’t make her right, but it did feel like it did. Kel glared at her.

“I guess innocent people don’t have two bum knees,” he said.

She gave him a customer-service smile with teeth and absolutely no warmth in it. “Not bum knees they got fleeing arrest after they vandalised a rival high school, anyway.”

The fact that statement was entirely accurate was what stung. One drunk, stupid impulse after another, and not only had his future gone up in flames, so had his bike and his ability to squat.

“...it wasn’t like that…”

Except it was. It had been. Everyone in town knew that.

“That’s enough.” Doncaster’s interruption kept Kel from embarrassing himself anymore. The Chief gave Warwick a quelling look as he added, “There’s no reason to assume that whatever happened to Dio Madden involved foul play.”

Warwick looked stubborn. “There’s no reason to assume it wasn’t either.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Doncaster corrected her. “Misadventure is cheaper than murder, Deputy. It costs the town a lot less. Take my advice, always hope for a pratfall. The politicians will love you for it.”

Warwick rolled her eyes and looked annoyed at the advice, but she grudgingly held her tongue. Once Doncaster was sure she was done, he turned back to Kel with his patented, easy-going smile.

“Either way, we aren’t here to accuse you of anything,” he said.

“Today,” Warwick muttered.

Doncaster’s smile tightened at the corners. His eyelid fluttered slightly.

“So why are you here?” Kel asked.

That got them back on track. Doncaster cleared his throat and hooked his thumb into the thick leather of his belt. He got his ‘good ol’ boy’ smile hitched back into place.

“We’re here to ask if we can store Madden’s car in your garage until the forensics guys from Meriden can get out here to examine it.”

That was reasonable enough. Not what Kel had expected, but reasonable. He rubbed his thumb along the stubble-rough line of his jaw as he considered the request.

“I mean, I’d have to charge you,” he said, as if it was a given instead of a question. “For loss of income, the use of a commercial space.”

Doncaster looked amused. “I assumed as much,” he said. “There’s a stipend. It’s not negotiable.”

Kel negotiated anyhow. Like his gran always said, if you don’t ask, then you don’t get.