I didn’t want Mac to find out about this, but I watched as Milo pulled out his phone and called the police.
My heart had kept up a steady, rapid beat, and my hands shook from the adrenaline. My fight-or-flight response was in overdrive, and I didn’t know which I was going to need to do. I put some more distance between us and hoped that someone, anyone, would drive along the road.
“I’m sure they’ll send someone soon. Thanks for the rescue and all,” I said. I thought my voice sounded thin, but all I could hear clearly was the blood rushing in my ears and my self-defense instructor telling me to go for the eyes.
“You’re welcome. Do you want to wait in my car?”
“No, you must have lots of things to do.” I backed up some more and scanned the area for anything I could use to defend myself. “You don’t have to wait with me.”
Milo narrowed his eyes.
“Are you afraid of me?” He stepped closer.
“No, of course not.” I clutched my phone and stood my ground. “Why would I be afraid?”
“I don’t know. But you’re holding your bag like it’s a weapon, and you jump away when I get within three feet of you.”
“You’re imagining things,” I said, and forced myself to smile.
“You are afraid. Why?”
“Well, the last time I saw you, the whole town suspected you of murder.”
His eyebrows twitched up, as if he hadn’t expected an honest answer. He had nice eyes and couldn’t quite hold the tough-guy glare.
“Is that why you’ve been following me with your sidekick and that pack of dogs?”
“He’s not my sidekick, he’s my nephew, and no one’s been following you.” I adopted my own squinty expression.
He smiled. “Okay. But you aren’t very subtle. And the old lady you have working for you is not great at hiding.”
I sighed. I knew Vi would be terrible at this. “That’s my aunt Vi. She thinks she’s a spy.”
“You’ve probably discovered I’m not that interesting,” he said.
“Why did you come back here? No one’s seen you in sixteen years. Some people still think you killed Julia.” I shifted my bag to my left hand, forgetting about my arm for the moment and wincing.
“I’ve got some unfinished business. Hey, let me take a look at that.” Milo gestured to my arm.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said, glancing at my blood-soaked sleeve.
“I know; you’re a tough police officer and all.”
I looked up and held his gaze.
He shrugged. “You’re not the only one who listens to gossip.”
He stepped closer, gently took my left hand, and turned it to examine my arm. And then I knew. Mac was right. As Milo held my hand, I knew that he hadn’t killed Tish or Sara or Julia.
Sometimes during a police investigation, I would sense innocence from touching a suspect—it felt light and happy, like root beer bubbles popping against my nose. The other feeling was dark and deep in my stomach, like something awful trying to claw its way out. It didn’t happen very often, but I couldn’t misinterpret it. Milo was one of the good guys.
My shoulder ached and my arm burned high up under my sleeve. I felt a tug and heard a rip.
“Sorry. This shirt was a goner anyway.” Milo tossed the ripped fabric into the Jeep. “You must have landed on something sharp. It tore your shirt, and you’ve got a pretty good gash here.”
I looked down to see a three-inch, oozing cut along my upper arm. I started to touch it, and Milo grabbed my hand.
“Your hand is filthy from climbing out of the car. Come sit by my car. I have a first aid kit.”
He led me to his tan Honda sedan, and I leaned against the hood while he got his supplies.
“How’s the strip mall development going?”
“It’s not, so far. I haven’t quite worked out the zoning issues, and I need to buy some more land.” He found some sort of stinging stuff to drip on the cut. My eyes watered.
“I’m sorry your return to Crystal Haven has been unsuccessful,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I haven’t given up hope yet.” He wrapped gauze around my arm and tied it gently.
I was feeling more secure now. Cars zipped past every few minutes. Some slowed and the drivers asked if we needed help. Milo waved them along.
Finally, a squad car pulled onto the shoulder and threw gravel as it skidded to a stop. My pulse pounded in my ears when Mac jumped out of the car.
“Clyde, are you okay?” He’d left his cane in the car in his haste, and he stumbled on the uneven ground. Even with everything else going on, a warm feeling flared in my chest when I saw how worried Mac was.
“I’m fine, I think.” I moved my arm a bit, saw the gauze turn red, and decided to keep it still. Mac saw it, too, and when I looked in his eyes I saw anger and something else. Something like fear, but it was gone in an instant. He nodded at me and turned to Milo.
“Milo, thanks for stopping to help.” Mac shook his hand.