He looked at her for a long, silent moment before repeating in a flat voice, “A video.”
“Yes.” Relieved to have an excuse for avoiding his penetrating stare, she pulled out her cell and found the video footage. Holding her phone so the sheriff could see the screen, Daisy hit play. While he watched, she eyed his face nervously, looking for his reaction, but his expression was impassive.
As the clip ended, Daisy dropped the hand holding her phone to her side. “I know it’s dark, but maybe it could be enhanced and lightened with video-editing software?”
“Ms. Little.” Once again, he was focused on her, and it was an effort to hold his gaze. “How long has it been since you’ve left this house?”
Although she’d suspected that the questions would eventually come around to that, it still took her by surprise. Daisy took a step back, feeling as though he’d punched her in the chest. “Um…almost eight years.”
The assurance in his nod told her that he’d already known, which meant he’d just asked to make a point. A flame of annoyance flickered to life inside her.
“What does that have to do with anything?” She was proud of her strong, steady voice.
He didn’t answer her question but glanced toward the stack of books on her nightstand instead. “Do you read a lot of mysteries, Ms. Little?”
“Not especially.” Her self-assurance was fading, and the words came out weaker than she’d hoped. “I read lots of different types of books.”
“True crime?”
“They aren’t my favorite. What does this have to do with anything?”
Once again, he didn’t respond. “Do you watch your neighbors often?”
The earlier questions were just annoying, but that was a direct blow. Even as she tried to stop the blush, she felt her cheeks getting warm. “Yes.”
His chin tipped down. “Have you ever witnessed anything else…unusual?”
Daisy couldn’t stop her arms from crossing over her chest as she shook her head. The sheriff’s questions made her feel naked. “Just the stuff with Corbin Storvick.”
“Stuff?” he repeated, eyebrows raised.
“When he and his girlfriend have a fight, I let Chris know.” She’d never seen the harm in watching the world outside her window, but admitting that to the sheriff made it sound so…slimy. Daisy dropped her eyes to the window-seat cushion. “Just so he can keep an eye out for Corbin’s possible retaliation.”
Coughlin made a sound between a hum and a grunt that Daisy couldn’t translate. It might’ve been commendation or condemnation, and he made her too nervous for her to meet his eyes and try to read his expression to figure out which one it was.
“Do you receive any type of therapy for your”—he waved his hand at her room—“condition?”
Nibbling on her thumbnail, Daisy debated whether to refuse to answer him. Her emotional health didn’t seem to be any of the sheriff’s business. Although, she mentally conceded, if she’d witnessed a crime, her stability probably was an issue, especially if there was a trial. Would she be required to attend it?
At the thought, her throat closed, and her breath snagged in her throat. Logic loosened her lungs, though. There were so many other ways she could attend a trial—video conferencing, telephone, even a taped statement. They—whoever the mysterious “they” might be—wouldn’t force her to leave her home. Besides, Daisy didn’t think it was possible for her to exit without strong sedatives.
“Ms. Little?”
Despite her mental mutiny, Daisy folded under the heavy authority in his voice. “No. I used to have a therapist come to the house, but not anymore.”
“Why not?”
That was definitely none of his business, so she gave him the short answer. “She came from Connor Springs and had a hard time getting here during the winter. Since winter makes up about eleven months of the year…” She shrugged, her words trailing away when the sheriff didn’t look amused at her lame joke. “We tried phone sessions, but they didn’t seem to be helping.”
“I see.”
Daisy doubted it. “Did you have any other questions for me? About what I saw this morning, I mean.”
After eyeing her steadily for an unnerving length of time, the sheriff shook his head. “I’ll call if I need anything else. Have you told anyone besides Deputy Jennings about this?”
“No.” After the denial had escaped, she remembered that she’d shared the whole tale with Lou, who’d probably passed everything along to Callum. Daisy really didn’t want to once again be the focus of the sheriff’s reproving gaze, so she didn’t correct her unintentional lie. Instead, she silently led the way back downstairs. Having the sheriff at her back was not any easier the second time.