Operation Witness Protection
Auteur
Justine Davis
Lezers
16,6K
Hoofdstukken
37
Chapter 1
All I wanted was a cup of coffee.
That refrain went through Case McMillan’s head as he got out of his truck, but his eyes were fastened on the struggle several yards in front of him. There was only one light in the alley behind the convenience store, so as the two figures wrestled they moved in and out of its halo like some kind of angry-dance light show.
A couple of drunk guys? Gang clash? Big bully versus kid?
From here he couldn’t see details, but his gut already knew before they staggered into the light again. Before he saw the shape of the much smaller figure, or the ski-glove-sized hand over her mouth.
He swore under his breath. If it had only been one of his first three guesses, he could have—maybe—walked away. Gone in, gotten his coffee and been out of here before it eventually broke up or someone called the cops.
He managed not to swear again at the last part of that thought. Barely.
But he couldn’t deny what he was seeing. This was a big man grappling with a woman half his size. A woman who, despite the fact she had no chance against the sheer bulk, kept fighting.
Damn.
He broke into a run even as he called himself a fool for doing it.
He had only the four seconds it took him to cover the distance to plan. To take in the surroundings and assess what he had at hand. Then he had to jettison the plan when the faint gleam from that overhead light skittered along metal. The barrel of the weapon in the man’s hand.
A gun was jammed under the woman’s chin.
He grabbed his keys out of his jacket pocket. Threw them as hard as he could. Hit his target, the metal trash can next to the back door of the store. The loud, harsh clang did the job. The man’s head jerked around to see what had suddenly happened behind him. The gun moved with him. Away from the woman. Just enough.
When he turned back Case was on top of him. He caught the hand with the gun. Clamped his fingers down and shoved upward hard and fast. The man yelled in pain and surprise. And even in the dim light he saw the man’s dark eyes widen as he looked upward; the guy might be twice the weight of his victim, but Case had at least four inches on him. And the man’s weight was soft, Case could tell that, too. As he looked up, shifting the position of the thick, long, heavy beard, Case got a glimpse of a ring of tattoos on his neck.
The guy twisted away. Hung on to the gun but shoved the woman aside. She hit the back wall of the store hard. Out of the corner of his eye Case saw her slump down to the ground in the half-circle of light. He stepped between them. The man spun and started to run. That instant felt like an eon to Case, because the instinct to pursue the bad guy kicked in. He quashed it, vehemently, using whatever he had. In this case, what he had was a victim down, because she hadn’t gotten up.
He let the man go, swearing out loud this time.
He crossed the distance to the downed woman in two strides. He knelt, relieved that she was moving now, pushing herself upright. But he was certain she’d hit her head on that solid wall, so he put a hand out to slow her until he knew if she was truly hurt. She jerked away, and he pulled back instantly. At least she was aware enough to react.
“It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “He’s gone.”
She looked up then. He could see her eyes were blue, and that the fear in them was rapidly fading. But more than that, they focused on him with a look he hadn’t expected. Not just gratitude, not even trust, but...as if she knew him.
But he’d never seen her before. He would have remembered. Because she was attractive in that cute sort of way he’d always been a sucker for. Those big blue eyes, the long, wavy hair an almost blond shade of sandy brown he’d bet got streaky in the summer. She was a little thin, though, which along with her stature—if she was over five-two he’d be surprised—had made the attack even more one-sided.
When she didn’t speak, he asked, “Are you all right? Your head hit the wall, didn’t it? I’ll call the paramedics—”
“No!”
She sounded horrified at the thought. He was nearly as horrified by the other call he needed to make, to the police. But it went totally against the grain to force her, the victim, to make the call that needed to be made.
“You need to report this,” he said.
Her voice calmer now, she went on. “No, don’t. I don’t want...anyone else involved. I’m very grateful to you for stopping him, and for staying with me but...no, I just can’t.”
For staying with her? Had she somehow sensed the urge he’d crushed down, the urge to go after her attacker?
It’s not your job anymore.
The phrase that had become a mantra ricocheted through his mind yet again. He shoved it, and the subject, aside. Her condition was more important now.
“You should still get checked out. I can take you to the emergency room, or an urgent care.”
“No, no, I think I’m fine. I saw stars for a second, but only a second.”
“Dizziness?”
She considered that for a moment, then shook her head. Then smiled, as if that in itself had been a test and she’d passed. “No, no dizziness. Just that first moment of stars.” She lifted a hand to touch the back of her head. A delicate chain with a couple charms on it—a bird that looked like an eagle, and a second he couldn’t tell—slide down her arm as she raised it. “It’s only a tiny bit sore.”
She moved as if to get up, but he put a hand out to stop her. This time she didn’t recoil.
“Let’s just be sure. What’s your name?”
She hesitated, then said only, “Terri.” He didn’t hold the hesitancy or lack of last name against her; it was only wise.
“Do you know where you are?”
She grimaced. “Behind the store I stopped into, to get warm.” He’d noticed she had on only a sweater, not enough for this unseasonably chilly night. “Stupid me. Or lousy timing.”
His brow furrowed. “Are you saying this started inside?”
Her brow furrowed in turn. “You didn’t see?”
“I was just pulling in when I saw you here in the alley.”
She started to shudder, then her jaw tightened as she suppressed it. That she still had the strength to do even that amazed him.
“He robbed the store. And beat up the clerk.”
He went still. This time a string of oaths rammed through his mind, although he didn’t voice any of them even under his breath. “You saw it?”
She nodded, a bit shakily, as if that shudder she’d suppressed was still trying to grip her. “Please,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “let me get up. I have to get out of here. The clerk will call the cops, and I don’t want to be here when they arrive.”
Suspicion bit deep. Had she been involved? Was what he’d witnessed not an attack on an innocent bystander but a falling out among crime partners?
It’s not your job anymore.
Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Were you his diversion? To keep the clerk distracted?”
She looked at him blankly. “What?”
“Did you disagree on the split of the take? Is that what happened back here?”
“What?” she repeated, still blankly.
“He had a mask, pulled down around his neck.”
“Yes. I saw him like that outside, through the window, before. But when he came in, he had the mask over his face.”
“But he’d pulled it down again when he met up with you out here. Because it didn’t matter anymore?”
“I don’t understand what—”
She broke off as comprehension dawned on her face. Her eyes widened with obvious shock. And maybe he was a fool—okay, probably—but he believed it was genuine. She’d had no idea what he was talking about.
She scrambled to her feet. He straightened up himself. She’d had no trouble standing, but she wobbled slightly once she got upright. Instinctively he reached out to steady her. Felt her shakiness as if a connection had been established at the touch.
She sounded utterly broken when she said, “You think I was part of what happened in there?”
“Not anymore.” And against every self-protective instinct he had, he put his arms around her. Just to keep steadying her, he told himself. She was still trembling. Aftermath could be hell. “I just wonder why you’re so desperate to avoid the police.”
“Nothing to do with that robbery,” she said. She looked up at him. “Please, you have to believe—”
“I said I did.” He did, even if he wasn’t quite sure why he was so certain, beyond a gut feeling. It might not be his job anymore, but his gut was still well trained.
“Then I can go?”
It sounded like she was asking his permission. As if he still wore the uniform. He again shook off the odd sensation that she somehow knew.
She felt unsteady enough that he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of letting her walk off alone. Hell, he felt a little unsteady himself, at the simple idea of letting the witness to a robbery and assault leave the scene. And that irritated him. This time he stopped the mantra before it fully formed, and focused on the more urgent matter at hand.
“Is there someone at home, who’ll be there? In case that bump on the head turns into something worse later?”
Her brow furrowed. “No, I don’t live here. I used to, but I’m just visiting, staying in a motel—” She caught herself, as if she regretted saying even that much. “No,” she repeated.
“You shouldn’t be alone. Not with a possible head injury.”
“I’m fine.”
“Now. Sometimes it takes time for problems to show up. You need to be with someone who will watch, wake you up every hour or two and make sure you’re still okay.”
“I...” She shivered again in his arms. Then, her voice low and shaky, she said, “I don’t have anyone like that.” She paused, lowered her gaze. And barely audibly, she murmured, “I don’t have anyone.”
The protector inside kicked him hard and fast. Apparently not even betrayal could kill it completely. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a compressed breath. Even knowing he was going to regret this, he said it. “Yeah, you do.”
“Who?”
He sighed. “Me.”
