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glance in Gemma’s direction. How far could he go to draw their attention away from her without making her situation even worse? She stood her ground, her face white and tense, and then she squared her shoulders. At that quiet gesture of courage, something warm began to break open in his gut. She didn’t deserve what was coming.
    Before he could say anything, the dog came to life and placed herself four-square between the police and Gemma, ears forward, tail erect.
    “Nikki, it’s okay,” Gemma said. The malamute, openly unimpressed with Gemma’s judgment of character, lifted her lip and growled deep in her throat at the intruders and began to stomp her front feet in warning.
    “Please sit down.” Gemma waved the detectives to the couch and took a white-knuckled grip on Nikki’s collar.
    Brady took a seat off to one side and tried to look harmless.
    The three police officers remained standing. Abernathy looked toward his partner, then turned back to Gemma. “May we have your full name, please, Ms. Cavanagh?”
    “Grace Elizabeth Maire Cavanagh.” She spelled it for them. “I go by Gemma.”
    “Do you mind telling us where you were yesterday morning, Ms. Cavanagh?”
    Enough was enough . Gemma’s nostrils flared. “I’d like to call my brother, now. He’s also my attorney.”
    She jerked her phone from her shirt pocket, but before she could thumb the phone on, it rang. She saw the two detectives exchange a look as she turned to take the call. Her brother’s voice came at a distance. She heard the hiss of traffic in the background. He must be on his car phone , she thought.
    “Gemma. What’s wrong?”
    “Mike, there are two detectives and a uniform here from Pierce County. They said Ned has been murdered. They want to ask some questions.”
    Mike’s voice took on a deeper timbre. “I’m westbound on the 520 bridge right now. As soon as I find a place to hang a U-ie without getting caught, I’ll head back your direction.”
    “Nikki is upset about them, Mike. I don’t know if it’s their guns or their attitude.” At the edge of her vision, she saw Abernathy shift his weight.
    “All the more reason to keep them on the porch until I get there.”
    “Too late.”
    “You let them in? Geez, Gemma. Didn’t Dad teach you anything? Okay. Since they’re already inside, you may as well have them take a seat. I’m looking at about twelve to fifteen minutes. Brady still there?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good. Don’t let him leave. Keep him close, Gemma, okay?”
    “Okay,” she said, glad she could look away from Brady as she felt the heat spread up her throat and into her face. Again.
    “He’ll be here in twenty minutes,” she said as she ended the call.
    “Ms. Cavanagh,” Abernathy began with a shy smile, “do you think I could have a glass of water before we get started?”
    That had to be the oldest ploy in their manual. Did they think she was a complete idiot? “Sure. You may as well go ahead and look around, Detective. You’re already inside.”
    He had the grace to look embarrassed. “You read a lot of mystery novels?”
    “My dad was a Navy cop.”
    “Huh. Your dad was a fed?”
    “Twenty-three years.”
    “That must have been different.”
    “I guess. He went down in the line while I was in college. I miss him.” Where had that come from? Stop babbling, Gemma. It’s not going to help . “What happened? To Ned?”
    “We’re not sure, just yet. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.
    Gemma felt sure it was going to be a really long twenty minutes. She stared at a square of sunlight on the floor, and wondered why she couldn’t cry.
    She’d cried for months when her dad was killed in a drug bust gone bad. And when her fiancé died in Bosnia, she thought her tears would leave permanent runnels from her eyes to her chin. She had finally managed to stuff her grief for them deep into hallowed chambers of her heart, just by sheer imposition of will. Otherwise, she could never have