CHAPTER THIRTY

Haddie sat in the veterinarian’s waiting room; tears rained down her cheeks in hot rivulets. She hated the smell, odd antiseptic and remnants of animal urine.

A duplicate row of blue plastic seats lined the wall across from her by the door. Scratched and polished yellowish tiles made up the floor. Only the lights over the counter were on, leaving darkness and the light under the exam door to shine in a thin line in the shadows. Rock lay somewhere behind that line.

Very little noise from the back could be heard over the rain pouring off the roof. The grass and plant beds outside had flooded so that waterfalls splashed off the top of the building. She’d seen the lights of a car arriving, a door closing, and voices in the back. The veterinarian, hopefully. Haddie wanted to go in the back and make sure they were taking care of Rock. He shouldn’t have to be here, not like this.

A second set of lights cut through the gloom outside. Another veterinarian, an assistant, or had the first car not been the doctor? The thought of Rock lying in the back dying, without them trying to help, wrenched her heart apart. She stood and walked to the glass door.

A dark sedan parked beside her RAV4. The interior lights of the new arrival turned on and she pressed against cold glass to make out a face. The veterinarian would likely park in the back, where the other car had gone.

The light flickered out as the car door opened and a shadow stood up. Face down and hands thrust into the pockets of a long black raincoat, the figure strode toward her.

Haddie backed up, swallowing and finding her pulse quickening. Was she going to be scared of everyone now?

Detective Cooper looked up as he reached for the door handle. Brown hair matted wet over his scowl; his eyes picked her out before he stepped inside. “Ms. Dawson.”

He didn’t belong here. The officers had already talked with her; they’d taken her report. “What are you doing here?” Anger tinged her voice.

He didn’t answer immediately. after wiping rain from his hair and face, he smoothed his eyebrows and mustache. “I’ve found this an interesting night. Your ability to be in the middle of so much commotion has me curious.”

The merest hint that he might be involved with Rock’s shooters made her want to kick him, to smash him right through the glass door he’d just come in. Her arm ached under the bandage. She had not filled the prescription they’d given her, just so she wouldn’t be tempted. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m beginning to think you’ve annoyed some people,” he said. “Didn’t give up after they warned you, perhaps.”

Haddie tensed, shifting a foot absently so that her body squared. Had that been a threat?

Detective Cooper continued, “Your little foray into the dogfighting world, that certainly would have caused some enemies, if they knew you were involved. I’ve considered that somehow they might be responsible.” He took a deep breath, and shifted his eyes to the door leading into the clinic. “There is also the possibility that your investigation of Mark Coleman has disturbed someone. What have you learned that might cause someone concern?”

He didn’t mention apprehending her attackers. What if he warned the muggers that she’d identified them? Then why make these statements? Why ask his question? It didn’t line up, unless he was purposefully misleading her. Haddie froze. For a moment, she’d considered her misgivings unfounded. Did someone send him to find out how close she was? Or, had she finally gotten him to consider that there could be more to the case than Mel?

“I haven’t —” She started to dismiss the little she’d learned. Perhaps though, it would be better if she kept them guessing, whether the detective was directly involved or not. She couldn’t decide at this point. “You’d best bring that inquiry up to my employer.”

If he was clean, she wanted to persuade him about all the minor inconsistencies, but they were just that — minor. The detective did not seem to do well with the possible or improbable. He seemed, at some moments, as driven as she to find the truth. Or, he played that part, all the while covering his own agenda. With no sleep, groggy from the drugs, and stressed over Rock, she couldn’t think clearly.

“Ms. Dawson, I don’t have time —.”

A familiar rumble cut through the splashing water from outside, and the headlight of her dad’s Shovelhead shone through the door. It lit the back of the detective. Her body relaxed in relief as Dad cut the engine just outside the clinic. Still, how had he found her? Sam?

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Even the detective recognized Dad’s bike without turning, his eyebrows dropped, darkening his eyes. Rain soaked hair clung as he turned to look out the door. “I had expected — he would already be here when I arrived.” He took a step backward, standing just in front of Haddie, but didn’t turn to face her. “If you believed these conspiracies, why did you go home last night?”

Because I’m stupid? Why had she not listened to Liz? Rock would be somewhere else, safe and sleeping. “I assumed you would have taken the assailants in by now.” Not exactly the truth, but he angered her.

She glanced from the back of the detective’s head to Dad unstrapping his helmet, leather jacket slick and black from the rain.

“Hmph.” Detective Cooper seemed amused.

Dad kept his riding goggles on and wore a black neck gaiter up over his mouth. He opened the door, sucking air out of the room. Ignoring the detective, he strode two steps to face her and inspect her. She wore the bright yellow sweatshirt and red jeans, a combo that surely made a statement.

“Sam said you weren’t hurt,” he said.

Tears welled up. “They shot Rock, Dad.”

He pulled her into him and she sobbed. She dreaded the door opening from the back of the veterinarian clinic — imagined a sad tech bringing her dreadful news. Losing Rock would crush her. Too much loss in one night. How would she ever go home without him? The apartment would never be the same.

Detective Cooper had turned and coughed. “Where were you tonight, Mr. Dawson?”

Dad tensed, pulled back putting his hands on her shoulders, and spoke through the wet gaiter. “Southeast Eugene, playing cards with some friends.” He had a tiny dark bruise on the side of his misshapen nose.

Haddie blinked and raised her eyebrows. That didn’t make sense. Dad remained facing her, eyes dark behind the tinted glass. On the smooth surface, water droplets joined together and raced down to the rims.

“An alibi. Very convenient. I imagine these ‘friends’ will vouch for you, right after you left your daughter at the hospital.” The detective obviously alluded to something.

Dad turned, facing away from her, and confronted the detective. “It took a few minutes to ride there. Haddie had a ride home, with her friend Liz.”

He wouldn’t have known about the ride until much later, when she texted him. She felt a chill and folded her right arm across her chest. What had he done?

“So, you would not know anything about the gunshot at Louis Mattes’ last known address? The disturbance there?” The detective glanced over to her, as if trying to read her reaction.

“No. Did someone shoot this Louis? Why would you think I’m involved?” Dad asked.

Haddie turned from them, looking at the slit of light coming from under the door to the back and wiped her eyes. Had Dad gone after Louis Mattes? Had he seen the information from the mugshot? She wouldn’t have been surprised. It would explain the card playing story. He wouldn’t have just abandoned her. Lie to the detective — likely — but he wouldn’t leave her.

“They reported a motorcycle arriving at the house just prior to the gunshot. And leaving soon after.” Detective Cooper sighed, his lips turned at the corners in what seemed frustration.

Dad smoothed the top of his head. “A Shovelhead? Those are rare up here.”

Detective Cooper wiped his mustache and chin. “The witnesses did not see the motorcycle or rider.”

Haddie took a step to the side and sat back down. Her body weak, her thighs trembled. Dad had gone looking for her muggers. Had he found them? If so, then who shot Rock? Maybe he hadn’t found them. She spoke to the discolored tiles. “Did you find my assailants, Detective Cooper?”

“Not at this time, Ms. Dawson. I did have a patrol meet me at their residence. However, there was no one there. It seems someone had just left — after a brief disturbance.” He took in a deep breath. “I must warn you both to stay out of the investigation into Ms. Dawson’s attack at the park, and now, the incident at your residence.”

Anger boiled in Haddie. At her dad, for risking himself and possibly harming the attackers. At Detective Cooper for being pompous and righteous while doing nothing but warning her off. At herself, for not listening to Liz and keeping Rock safe.

“If you just did your job —,” she said, biting off her tirade.

His voice remained calm. “If you’d let me.”

“Look how well that has worked for Mel Schaffer.” Haddie snapped. She would have stomped out, if there wasn’t a downpour outside and if her legs didn’t wobble.

“Despite your presumptions, stay out of my way. I won’t hesitate to bring obstruction charges — on either of you. Stay inside the lines.” His calm voice turned to a growl.

“The attorney of record has rights to investigate where they believe the police failed.” It wasn’t exactly the stated code, but close enough. The anger sharpened her mind, but it still felt thick.

“In regard to the Coleman’s case, to a certain extent.” Detective Cooper’s black shoes shuffled slightly. “In your own case, please do not attempt to apprehend or approach any suspects.”

Haddie closed her eyes, head hung down, resisting the urge to lie on the row of chairs. She didn’t have the strength to argue. Just be okay, Rock. “Whatever. Why are you even here, Detective Cooper?”

“First to see if you have anything to add to the report on the shooting at your house. Thus, my previous question about your investigation. Have you uncovered anything that might concern someone?”

Haddie took a deep breath and looked up. “And your second reason for being here?” She still could not decide whether to trust him or not. Dislike and trust were not the same. And she certainly didn’t like him.

Detective Cooper looked to her dad. “I think we’ve already established that.” He pursed his lips and shrugged. “Please leave the detective work to the police department.” Turning he headed out the door.

The storm blew in wet, brown leaves and wrestled with the door as it tried to close. Dad stood there, still in his riding glasses and gaiter. Odd.

“Did you really?” she asked.

Dad shrugged. “Best you remember that I was playing cards.”

The door to the clinic opened and light streamed from the back. She could make out a silhouetted figure. “Ms. Dawson?”