The patrol officer frowned. “You sure she wasn’t aiming at you and changed her mind at the last minute?”
“That could have been the case,” Chase said gravely.
Daisy disappeared into the back of the ambulance. Aubrey tore her gaze from the scene and looked back at the officer.
“No. No, not at all. She was going too fast, the car was flying. She just gunned it and went into the yard. She lost control. She had to be going sixty or so when she hit.”
The cop turned to Chase. “Sir, you killed the engine?”
“I did. I was afraid the engine might blow. I could smell gas.”
“Wouldn’t have happened like that, but good thinking regardless.” Aubrey saw the cop’s nameplate and felt a small a spike of fear. B. Parks. God, was he related to that asshole who’d arrested her? It was a small town—he must be. Her wrists started to itch; just the thought of the cuffs on his waist made her jumpy.
He was talking to her again. “You know the woman driving the vehicle, ma’am? Dispatch said she’s your mother-in-law?”
“Ex. My ex-mother-in law. Her name is Daisy Hamilton.”
“And your name is . . . ?”
“Aubrey Hamilton.”
The officer started to write in his reporter’s notebook, then stopped and glanced at her curiously. Aubrey recognized that look. She’d been on its receiving end many a time.
She closed her eyes for a brief second and sighed. “Yes. That Aubrey Hamilton. Do we have a problem?”
“Aubrey,” Chase said, a note of warning in his voice.
The officer shook his head. “No problem at all. I just need to get a couple of people on the horn.”
“Like who?” She heard the edge in her voice. Daisy had run the car into her house, and already people were starting to act like Aubrey had done something to cause it. A ripple of aggravation drove through her system. Something in her expression gave her away because the officer leaned forward with his hand on his weapon.
“Ma’am, relax. I’m just putting word out to my training officer—he’s a few blocks away on another accident scene. It’s my first week on the job. I don’t want to have anything in question, okay?”
“Babe, it’s okay,” Chase said. “He’s just crossing the t’s.”
“Ha,” Aubrey said. “You have no idea what this is like for me. You have no idea.” Her voice ended in a shout, which did nothing to help soothe the fears the new cop was having.
“Ma’am? Ms. Hamilton? Why don’t we step inside for a moment?”
The tone of his voice made her nerves go into overdrive. Chase caught her distress and squeezed her arm, but it was Josh’s voice she heard in her head. Aubrey, calm down. If you don’t act like a normal person, they might think you had something to do with this and arrest you again.
Aubrey shut her eyes again and nodded. She let Chase lead her into the house like she was a lost child. Winston jumped to her side, whining, and bared his teeth at the cop. Chase reached for Winston’s collar and said, “No, boy.” The dog immediately calmed, and Aubrey glanced sharply over at Chase. When she and Josh had been training the puppy, Josh had always grabbed the dog’s collar and said, “No, boy,” with that exact inflection.
Aubrey was just plain living in a surreal netherworld where strangers seemed like friends and everything had gone topsy-turvy.
Chase sat her down at the kitchen table, then started making tea.
The police officer talked into his shoulder for a few minutes, giving and getting instructions. She watched him warily, wondered who he was calling.
He keyed his mike once more, said, “10-4,” then turned to her. He took the seat opposite her at the table, blocking her view out the window into the street, where the ambulance was pulling away.
“Okay, Ms. Hamilton. Let’s go over everything that happened leading up to the accident.”
“Your father is Officer Bob Parks, isn’t he?”
The officer looked surprised. “How’d you know that?”
“He worked my husband’s case, when he went missing. You look just like him.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m his son, Brent. He’s Sergeant Parks now.”
Of course he is. Life moves on, Aubrey. Everyone’s life has moved forward except for yours. Until yesterday. And look where that got you.
Chase brought three cups and a freshly brewed pot of tea. He sat and offered the mugs around, then poured out, like the perfect host. The cop accepted the steaming liquid, took a polite sip, then set the cup down and opened his notebook.
“Thank you, sir. Could you state your name for the record?”
“Of course. Chase Boden. I’m a friend of Ms. Hamilton.”
Had he lingered suggestively on the word friend, or had she just imagined it?
Whatever he said seemed to appease the cop for the moment because he started back in on Aubrey.
She relayed the story again, and a third time, before the doorbell rang.