Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8)(80)

“Is she pregnant?” Tom asked quietly.

“I think she had some disturbing news.” Jake gave Tom a quelling look as the police officer followed them into the lounge, talking to someone on his phone. Jake didn’t want any of this to become common knowledge until they could sort out the details.

“Yeah, she’s at the bank, just like Suzie said she was. But she’s fainted again,” the police officer said.

Jake lay Alicia down on the couch as she stirred and opened her eyes, her lips parting in surprise. Not only were Jake and his brother and Peter watching her as Jake crouched next to her, pushing her hair from her face, but three clerks, the police officer, and a couple of suited men also were hovering nearby.

Jake squeezed her hand. “Let’s get you home.”

Forget the over-the-counter pregnancy test. As soon as they returned to Silver Town, he was having Doc Weber examine her in the event she was pregnant and that could be what had affected her. He wanted to make sure she was truly all right.

The police chief strode into the room, brows raised to see Alicia sitting up on the sofa, despite Jake wanting her to lie still longer. “I’m fine. Really,” she said, her eyes growing big as she looked beyond him at the police chief and police officer in attendance.

But she didn’t look like she was fine at all. Her face was still deathly pale.

“The Denver police want to speak with you, Miss Greiston,” the police chief said, as he drew closer and peered down at her through silver-rimmed glasses. He looked similar to his son, Detective Hanover, who had questioned her the day before at her apartment, but he was about sixty, with graying hair, and had an aged appearance that made him appear like a kindly grandfather type. At least toward Alicia.

Jake suspected the chief’s demeanor had to do with his worry that Alicia was pregnant and was sick because of it. Chief Hanover looked like he could be as tough as granite if he wanted to be.

“The police,” she parroted wearily.

At this rate, she was going to be talking to police all over the state of Colorado.

“Yes, Miss Greiston. My son told me you were at the scene of Ferdinand Massaro’s murder. The Denver police will want the details. But I have a couple of questions for you also. Since you’re looking a little peaked, if you don’t mind, I’ll just ask you here. If everyone will clear out.” He directed the comment to the bank staff.

The men and women agreeably and quickly filed out of the staff lounge.

The chief glanced at Tom and Peter, but Alicia said, “I’d prefer to have Jake and his brother, Tom, and Peter, our sheriff at Silver Town, stay, if it’s all right with you.”

“Certainly.” The chief sat down in a chair and said, “My son tells me he talked to you about the shooting at Spruce Creek Trail. Can you tell me what happened exactly?”

“I really don’t have anything else to say. I left a wreath of flowers for my mother like I do once a week. I assumed the two men who approached me were Mario’s men, and they asked me to go with them. I refused. Then they left.”

“They left,” the chief said, “after you shot one of the men.”

She said nothing, her jaw and fingers clenching, but waited for him to speak further.

He cleared his throat and continued. “Witnesses said they heard gunfire and saw one of the men with a bloody leg limping back to his car, cursing up a storm.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute, and Jake was glad she didn’t offer any other explanation for what might have occurred. Finally she said, “Did the man seek medical attention?”

“No, not that we could learn of. But if they were who we think they were, they would have seen someone who would doctor him without reporting the shooting incident to the police.”

She didn’t say anything further, but her unspoken expression said volumes as she lifted her eyebrows slightly in a way that meant the chief could prove nothing.

“We’re on your side in this,” the chief finally said, sounding resigned. “If I could put Mario away for life, I’d do it. But I don’t want you getting yourself killed in the process, young lady. Nor do I want you to get into trouble for doing something illegal.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the floor as if he were trying to decide whether to say anything further, but he hesitated.

He finally let out his breath, fixed her with his gaze, and said, “I shouldn’t be saying this, but the police in Denver have evidence you were in Massaro’s apartment. Just a heads-up, when you speak with them.”

Her lower lip dropped, then she quickly clamped her mouth shut and swallowed hard.

Hell.

“What evidence?” she finally asked, sounding more timid than Jake liked to hear.

“Your driver’s license was found inside Massaro’s apartment.”

Her lips parted.

Jake stifled a curse. He was dying to know where they had found her driver’s license. He wondered if Detective Hanover, the chief’s son, had known this when he had asked her for her driver’s license, testing her to see if she knew it was missing. If so, what had he concluded? She wasn’t guilty of a crime? Massaro had stolen it from her? Or she’d left it there by accident when she was fleeing the crime scene?

But then Jake was certain the detective would have been asking himself why Massaro would have taken her driver’s license and nothing else. However, just because her driver’s license was found in the condo, that didn’t confirm she’d been there. He could have stolen it. Although why that and nothing else?