Free Power of the Raven by Aimée Thurlo Page A

slender woman, with flaming red hair, greeted them as they got out of the car. Her large Labrador-mix dog remained standing by her town house’s open doorway, snarling and barking with excitement.
    “Someone tried to break into Preston’s place just a few minutes ago,” she told Gene. “I ran him off by threatening to let Bitsy have a go at him,” she added, pointing to the large mass of black fur. The dog’s white teeth flashed in the light and drool dripped from its jowls.
    “No wonder he ran,” Lori said.
    The woman smiled. “Most of the time she’s the sweetest dog in the world, but when Bitsy senses a threat and gets riled up she’s a holy terror,” she said. “The two of us were coming back from our evening walk when Bitsy saw the guy lurking around the back window. He was wearing a dark shirt, a sweatshirt, I think, and a baseball cap pulled down low on his forehead. He had something sharp, maybe a knife or chisel, for prying open a window,” she said. “Bitsy went nuts and wanted to take a chunk out of him. The guy heard her growling and took off quick as lightning between the buildings.” She pointed. “That’s the last I saw of him, but the police are on their way.”
    Just as she finished speaking, two patrol cars with flashing red lights turned into the complex and drove up.
    Two officers stepped out of the units and walked toward them. “Who’s Patty McDermott?” the taller of the two asked.
    “I am, and the guy ran that way,” Patty said, pointing. “I figured you’d want to know since one of your officers, Detective Bowman, lives at the apartment he was planning to break into.”
    “Dispatch said you thought the man had a weapon, maybe a knife? Did he threaten you?” the second officer asked.
    Patty shook her head. “No. Bitsy and I startled him and he ran. I guess he didn’t want the kind of trouble my dog could give him. As for the weapon…I’m thinking now it may have been a chisel. Whatever it was, I know it had a yellow handle.”
    The officer turned to look at the dog, who was still growling. “Ma’am, maybe you should close that door,” he said.
    “She won’t move without a specific command—or if she thinks I’m being threatened—but if it’ll make you feel better…”
    “It would,” the officer said instantly.
    As Patty moved away, the other cop, whose name tag identified him as Officer Murray, turned to Gene. “You’re one of Preston’s brothers, right? The rancher?”
    “Yeah,” Gene said with a half smile, then filled him in.
    The officer took some notes, then glanced at Lori. “You should have done as Sergeant Chavez recommended, ma’am. Leaving town, at least until we can identify a suspect, is still your best course of action.”
    “Like you, Officer, I have a job and responsibilities here,” she said in a harsher voice than she’d intended. Having to defend her reasons for staying annoyed her. She wasn’t the criminal; she was the victim.
    As soon as the thought formed, she cringed. To become a bona fide victim, all she’d have to do was start thinking of herself as one. “I’m not the problem here, Officer. The man after me is. That’s who you need to concentrate on.”
    “How sure are you that Detective Bowman wasn’t the intended target? After all, this is his place,” the officer said, glancing at Gene then Lori.
    “Preston’s in Quantico right now,” Gene said, “so his parking space is empty. Anyone seriously looking for him would have known he wasn’t here. I suppose it might have been a burglar randomly targeting apartments where nobody’s home. But considering that there was also an attempted purse snatching earlier where Ms. Baker was the target, I think we’re pushing the bounds of coincidence.”
    “It’s not that unlikely. With the police slowdown, there’s been a rise in property crimes. They know we can’t be everywhere,” the officer said.
    “So what now?” she said.
    “We’ll do what we can, including