Safeguarding the Witness
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Laurie Winter
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ONE
Something was very wrong. Hesitating outside the rear door of her father’s house because it was ajar, Kayla Swartz reread his final text—Come over as soon as you get into town. Hurry. I need you to take care of your sister. She wasn’t on good terms with Trevor, her estranged father, and hadn’t been since her childhood. But they’d begun speaking again after her half sister had come to live with their father a year ago. Mostly to ensure the three-year-old child was being cared for. Trevor’s track record as a dad up until then hadn’t been great.
Yesterday, he’d called, begging her to take the little girl because he had gotten into trouble—again. Instead of enjoying spring break, a week off from teaching high school art, she’d hopped into her car and rushed north.
But now worry grew. She pressed her palm against her stomach, fighting a swell of uneasiness. The back door was left open, so either Trevor was still inside, or he’d left in a hurry. Her golden retriever, Sasha, stood patiently behind her, waiting for Kayla’s next move. Sasha was a trained therapy dog, which came in handy when entering the hospital room of a sick child but not so much when walking into a risky situation.
The potential for danger wouldn’t have crossed her mind if not for Trevor’s criminal history. He’d been in and out of jail since she could remember. And if not for her little sister, she wouldn’t have raced to his house first thing since crossing the city limits of Snowberry, Montana, after a long drive from Colorado Springs. Once she had Olive, she planned to head to her mom’s house and celebrate Easter, which was this coming Sunday. If Trevor had gotten himself into a mess, then that mess was his own. Kayla wished to spare an innocent little girl from experiencing the same trauma she had with Trevor Swartz as a father.
She called him again, and it went to voicemail. Maybe she should call the sheriff’s department. After a moment of contemplation, she decided to go inside and assess the situation before involving a deputy who might arrest Trevor simply on the basis of his reputation for trouble.
Kayla checked the view through the doorway and found no movement or activity. She entered, and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the low light. Standing in the kitchen, she froze. The wreckage surrounding her stole the air from her lungs. Every cabinet door was flung open; a few barely hung on their hinges. Food, dishes and cookware covered the vinyl flooring. Something definitely was not right. She inhaled, taking in the familiar scents of cedar and decades of cigarette smoke. Something else lingered in the air—the faint odor of men’s cologne. Definitely not a scent related to Trevor, but it nudged the back of her mind.
Sasha barked and dashed off toward the living room, tail wagging. Her dog had never met a person she didn’t immediately love. Then again, she hadn’t met someone with evil intentions.
Kayla chased the dog, then skidded to a halt at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered, dark haired man staring back. I should have grabbed a knife. Her fear eased, though, as she realized the man looked familiar. A quick inventory of the living room showed it wasn’t in any better condition than the kitchen. “What are you doing here? Where’s Trevor? Did you make this mess?”
“Whoa.” He held up his large hands, palms facing out. His jaw clenched. “Slow down.”
She’d seen those dark brown eyes before. Recognition struck like an electric shock. During high school, Kayla had stared into those same brown depths when she should have been helping him solve algebra equations. “Nicolas Galanis. What are you doing here?”
He was taller and wider than he’d been in high school. Back then, she assumed that he couldn’t gain any more height or muscle, or that his jaw couldn’t become any more chiseled. The years had been kind. Nicolas had been handsome as a teenager. Now he was dangerously gorgeous.
Gaze narrowed, he studied her face, then softened his hard expression. “Kayla. I’m glad it’s you.”
He remembered her. Then again, how could he forget her? His relationship with Kayla was the reason Nicolas lost his football scholarship. Déjà vu played through her mind, and her gut sickened. Their romance had been young, innocent and sweet—and punctuated by a tragic ending. The last time she’d been with Nicolas, they’d been on a date. They’d gotten ice cream at a downtown shop, then walked hand in hand on the sidewalk lost in conversation. Shouting stole their attention, and they made their way to a nearby tavern, where they found Kayla’s father engaged in a brawl. Trevor had been tossed to the ground, losing the fight and calling for help, when Nicolas stepped in. She’d spent every day since regretting his involvement. Which begged the question: Why was he here now?
She crossed her arms over her body. “Trevor asked me to come to Snowberry and stop by his house. He said he was in trouble and needed me to take my sister. Have you seen either one of them?”
Nicolas crept forward, stepping around sofa cushions, side table drawers, and miscellaneous junk strewn over the carpet. “No one was here when I came by. I came home to spend some time with my family for the holiday. It’s a long story, but Trevor reached out last year and we’ve stayed in touch. He texted me a little while ago, asking if I could come over to check on his house and you. The back door was left open, so I stepped inside. I was here for only a minute before you arrived.”
Staring at him, she blinked while attempting to make sense of his words. Nicolas and Trevor were in contact? That made no sense. If anyone had as much reason to hate Trevor as Kayla did, it was Nicolas. After his dashed dreams of playing football in college and beyond, Nicolas enlisted in the army. Her young heart had broken when he left without a word of farewell. Then again, she never should have hoped for more. A popular athlete and a nerdy art student didn’t have much in common outside of the library study room. She’d been lucky Nicolas had asked her out in the first place. Her fantasy of a future with him had crashed down around her that horrible night almost fifteen years ago. If Nicolas had made amends with Trevor, perhaps he’d forgive her as well.
“Did Trevor mention what’s going on?” she asked, still processing the news that Trevor had gone to Nicolas for help too.
“Wish I knew.” He bent over to rub Sasha on the head. “When was the last you heard from Trevor?”
“About two hours ago.” Kayla checked the time. She’d been driving through the mountains when her phone picked up a cell signal. It had taken her a little while longer to locate a pull-off spot to check her text messages. What she read chilled her more than the cold Montana wind. “He asked me to hurry. Now he and my sister are gone and the house is trashed.” And her high school crush was standing in the living room. Painful memories stirred.
“Do you know where he may have gone?” His question hung in the air.
She had little notion of Trevor’s life these days. Their relationship had been severed after a childhood of trauma and humiliation. Being known around town as Trevor Swartz’s kid had been a heavy weight to carry around as a girl, and she’d moved away at the first opportunity. “No.” She shook her head. “We’re not close. You remember what he was like. The man was—probably still is—a criminal.” As a child, she’d had no choice but to attend the court-mandated visits. Finally, those visits were stopped. All Trevor added to her life was constant disappointment. Thankfully, she had a wonderful mom who balanced out her father’s shortcomings.
Which led her thoughts back to Olive—the reason she’d reconnected with her father and the reason she was here. Her half sister’s mom had signed away her parental rights a year ago, leaving Trevor with sole custody. The child deserved better than what she’d gotten from life so far.
“People change.” Nicolas approached the picture window and pulled back the curtain to gaze outside. A dusting of snow still covered the front yard. “He’s not the same person.”
People like Trevor don’t change.
A doll with a head full of yellow yarn hair lay on the carpet. Kayla rescued the poor thing and set it upright on a chair. “You can go. You should go. I’ll call the sheriff’s department to report a break-in. Someone was here looking for something.”
“Wait.” He surveyed the room. “Let me keep trying to get a hold of Trevor. I don’t want to get him in trouble if there’s a simple explanation for what’s going on.”
A simple explanation? Doubtful. “Try calling him then.” Protecting Trevor was low on her list of priorities, but locating Olive remained her top concern. Nicolas was right; they should at least try once more. The buzzing of nerves inside her disagreed. “I’ll look over the rest of the house.” Her gaze rested on Sasha. “Stay here.” Her dog could keep an eye on Nicolas. Judging by the grin on Sasha’s face, she’d fallen in love with him already. Beat you to it, girl.
Nicolas took out his cell phone and dialed. He didn’t move to follow her, which suited her fine. Given their history, it was best to keep a comfortable distance. She’d feel better if he’d never become involved in the first place. What had Trevor been thinking, asking Nicolas for help after everything Nicolas had lost the last time he’d intervened in a Trevor Swartz created catastrophe? Like a hurricane, her dad brought destruction to anyone in his path.
The ranch house had a long hallway leading off the main living area. Kayla approached the first bedroom. The door already was open, so she peeked inside. It was empty of human presence. Whoever had trashed the house hadn’t skipped this room. A purple duffle bag with Olive’s name stitched on the front lay askew on the ground near the twin bed. Toys and fluffy stuffed animals filled the space. This was Olive’s bedroom.
When Trevor had taken full custody of Olive, he’d gone on a shopping spree. Perhaps to make up for the neglect and abandonment of her mom. Poor child. So much upheaval in Olive’s short life heightened Kayla’s urgency to find her.
She checked the rest of the bedrooms, careful not to touch anything in order to preserve evidence, before entering the bathroom. The drawers in the cabinet hadn’t been disturbed. A large mirror hung over the sink, and Kayla paused to check her reflection. Dark circles hung underneath her eyes. Her body ached after driving hundreds of miles straight through. Once she resolved the issue with her father, she’d head to her mom’s house and enjoy some time there before heading home.
A flash of movement behind her in the mirror’s reflection caught her attention. The shower curtain slid to the side and someone hurdled out. Kayla’s scream was cut off by an arm looping around her throat and squeezing tight. In a panic, she reached behind her to fight back. All she caught was a section of her assailants face mask. She didn’t have the leverage to lift it and reveal the person’s face. Her oxygen level dropped, and her vision blurred. I’m not dying in this bathroom. Using all her strength, she struck out and connected with the person’s nose. Her gift of pain offered a small break in Kayla’s suffocation. The hold loosened long enough to get out a squeaky cry.
Within a second, the arm constricted again. The feeling of cold metal pressed against her cheek—a knife.
“Give me the necklace and diamonds, or your whole family will die.” Her attacker spoke in a gravelly voice.
What necklace? What diamonds? And how was Kayla supposed to tell this person anything when she couldn’t breathe?
A bark announced Sasha’s arrival. Thank you, God. The dog bounced into the bathroom wearing the golden retriever smile and looking as happy as always. For the first time, Kayla wished Sasha had even a slight killer instinct.
Sasha charged at Kayla and jumped up, setting her front paws on Kayla’s chest. The sudden weight pushed Kayla backward, which caught her attacker by surprise and forced them both off balance. The break was all she needed to free herself from the death grip.
She remembered Nicolas, who she hoped was still in the house, and screamed as loud as her damaged throat could manage.
The person who’d assaulted her jumped away, then bounded through the doorway leading to the main bedroom. Nicolas appeared in the other doorway, which opened to the hall. “Are you okay?”
When she attempted to speak, only a hacking cough sounded. She pointed to the doorway where the intruder had escaped then made a choking gesture. She had never been good at charades.
He stared at her, blinking for several seconds, before darting off toward the bedroom. His shouts soon followed.
Relief flooded her body, and shock turned her muscles into jelly. Kayla lowered herself onto the ground like an abandoned marionette. Trembling like a leaf caught in the wind, she rested her head on the bathroom wall. Whoever had ransacked the house and attacked her had been looking for jewelry and diamonds. What did that have to do with Trevor? How could he be so selfish as to put Olive in danger for jewels? She firmed her resolve to find and protect her sister. First though, she had to catch her breath.
Nicolas chased the home invader until he lost sight of him. The houses in this neighborhood were packed together, providing his target with ample opportunities to dart through backyards and sneak in between houses. Once he realized the chase was fruitless, he paused to catch his breath. Returning, he entered through the sliding glass doors in the main bedroom, then went straight to check on Kayla.
She sat on the floor of the bathroom. Sasha’s head rested on her lap. Eyes closed, Kayla inhaled and exhaled in a slow rhythmic beat.
With her guard lowered, he used the moment to catch a good look at her. Her long hair, a beautiful shade of deep brown almost like mahogany, tumbled over her shoulder like water in a mountain stream. She’d added bangs since their high school days, which nicely framed her pretty face. She wore faded jeans and a blue flannel shirt that brought out the color of her eyes. Her hair and casual clothing style suited her.
In high school, his breath had been stolen the moment she introduced herself as his new tutor. Trying to concentrate on homework while Kayla Swartz sat across the table was difficult. He’d done his best though. Nicolas’s path in life had been paved with ambitions that didn’t include Snowberry, Montana. Since the discovery of his talent for throwing a football, his dad had drilled into him the importance of setting his sights on opportunities not found in his hometown. The world offered fame and fortune for those strong and determined enough to chase it down. He never found fame on the football field but crafted his own success in business. An accomplishment that eventually earned his dad’s pride.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch him.” He waited for a sign she’d heard him.
With a sharp intake of breath, she opened her eyes. Those beautiful blue orbs stared up at him. “Help me up,” she spoke in a scratchy voice.
He took the extended hand and pulled her to her feet. “Are you okay?” His assessing gaze roamed over her body, halting at the streak of red skin around her throat and mouth. Anger swelled.
She nodded. “I’m shaken up but fine. My heart rate is through the roof.”
Taking hold of her shaking hand, he brushed a thumb over the smooth surface of her skin. He should have caught the person who attacked her. “Let’s get you something to drink, then you can tell me what happened.”
Once in the kitchen, he poured a large glass of water and handed it to her, which she downed in under a minute.
Kayla sank into the only remaining upright kitchen chair. “Someone was hiding in the bathtub and tried to strangle me.” She coughed, then cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure it was a woman, judging by the voice. She asked where a necklace and diamonds were. Do you know what she’s talking about?”
Nicolas had only recently arrived in Snowberry to spend time with his family over the Easter holiday. He had planned to have coffee with Trevor at some point during his stay, but Trevor canceled their meeting and asked Nicolas come to the house. Fortunately, he was here to help her after the attack. “I wasn’t able to get ahold of Trevor. He never mentioned anything about valuable jewels.”
“To me neither.” Kayla’s body slumped. “I’ll try calling him one last time. If he’s still not answering, then I’ll contact the sheriff’s department and report the break-in and attack.”
The flash of pain in her eyes struck his heart. Everyone in their hometown knew about Trevor’s criminal record and all the misdeeds he hadn’t been charged with formally. He didn’t blame Kayla for holding on to hurt feelings. A year ago, an envelope had arrived at Nicolas’s Malibu home. The four-page handwritten letter was from Trevor Swartz, filled with an apology and his commitment to living a better life. After a lifetime of addiction and bad decisions, Trevor had cleaned up. Part of the recovery process was to make amends. Nicolas’s injury—an injury he’d sustained while intervening during a bar fight in which Trevor was being beaten senseless—had ended his hopes for a football scholarship. He’d also earned a disorderly conduct charge, adding the one and only mark on his record. Any bad feelings he had about the incident were long passed, and he’d forgiven Trevor, along with providing encouragement on his new path.
Sasha appeared by his leg, peering up with large brown eyes. Weren’t humans lucky to have dogs, animals that never seemed to hang on to resentment? He coveted their adaptability.
Kayla removed her cell phone from her coat pocket and checked the screen. “Oh no. I missed a call from Trevor. He called a few minutes ago. I didn’t hear it ring.” She played the voicemail message on speaker phone.
“Hey, honey, it’s me again. I had to leave with Olive before you came. Sorry about that. Look... I can’t tell you what’s going on over the phone, but please trust me. I need you to come to the Moonlight Motel on Highway 17 to get Olive. I have a few other things that you’ll need to take to law enforcement, but just keep them away from our local department.” Static sounded. “Honey, whatever you hear about me, don’t believe it. You’re so smart, and I don’t trust anyone else. I’m innocent and I will prove it.”
The message ended, and a knot formed in Nicolas’s gut. “I called him twice before you yelled for help, and he didn’t answer.”
She rubbed her temples before placing her phone back into her pocket. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, providing balance for her to stand. “Looks like my road trip isn’t over. Come on, Sasha. Let’s get back into the car.” On the way out of the house, she grabbed the doll that she’d picked up off the living room floor earlier. “Olive’s been through a lot. Having a doll to hold on to will provide some comfort.”
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive? You still seem pretty unsteady.” He followed her outside, waging an internal debate. Interfering with other people’s troubles did not usually end well for him. Besides his broken throwing arm in high school, while in the army he’d attempted to resolve a fight that resulted in a bullet to his leg and a broken femur. He’d made a rule to mind his own business. As a bodyguard, he fulfilled his professional obligation to the highest level but kept a strict line between personal and business matters. But a little girl might be in danger, and Kayla needed help. Or at least someone watching her back. “I’ll go with you.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
“Thank you, but I feel better now. Or I will feel better once I find Trevor and have Olive safe with me.” She held open the door while Sasha hopped into the back seat. “Give me your phone number. I’ll call if I need help.”
He took her cell phone and saved his number under her contacts. He’d head home now and spend time with his family, which was why he’d returned to Montana in the first place. Running into Kayla, even under these dangerous circumstances, made his trip a lot more interesting. “Promise to call if you need anything. Don’t hesitate.”
“I will.” With a push of a button, she started the engine. “It was nice seeing you again, Nicolas.”
As he watched her drive out of sight, his conscience pounded inside his chest. Don’t let her do this alone. Nicolas glanced at his watch, then back at the street. He should color Easter eggs with his nieces, like he’d planned. That would be the sensible decision.
The memory of Kayla clutching her injured throat in the bathroom jolted him back into reality. He raced to his SUV parked on the street. No one had ever accused him of being sensible.
