Hidden Witness

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Manpower?”

  “My friend is a security specialist. He knows how to keep clients safe.”

  “A bodyguard.”

  “I don’t think he would want to be called that, but he knows how to secure locations, and he knows how to keep high-profile clients out of the line of fire. Between the two of us, we shouldn’t have any trouble getting onto the ranch. Once we’re there, we can access the footage and, hopefully, find out who placed that tracking device.”

  “And that will be an end to this nightmare?”

  “It’ll be the beginning of the end. We’ll still need to prove a connection to Moreno, and we’ll still need to be on guard against another attack. Moreno isn’t going to give up if his first plan fails. He’ll find someone else willing to do the job for him.”

  “Money talks,” she murmured, crossing the room and joining him near the door. Sporadic flurries had turned to heavy snow, the flakes drifting listlessly from the cloudy sky. “What are you looking at? The snow?”

  “Lights,” he responded, the words like ice water in her veins.

  “Flashlights?”

  “Headlights. The road is that way.” He gestured straight ahead. “See it?”

  “All I see are trees.”

  “Stand here.” He cupped her shoulders, maneuvering her so that she stood directly in front of him. She couldn’t help remembering the way it had felt to be in his arms. How right and good and comfortable it had seemed. Heat seeped up her throat and into her cheeks, and she was glad the darkness hid the blush on her cheeks and the warmth of her face.

  “See it now?” he asked.

  She blinked, trying to focus on what he was saying and what he was trying to show her. In the distance, tiny lights hovered above the tree line. “It looks like fireflies, but I know it can’t be.”

  “There’s a deep ravine between us and those lights. About a half mile of wooded area and a dirt road that is mostly overgrown. The paved road those cars are on isn’t much to talk about, either. It’s a winding rural road that twists through the hills. Only people who live out here, hunt here or fish in the river use it.”

  “So, those lights shouldn’t be there?”

  “Maybe. It’s possible a local had a flat or that someone’s car broke down.”

  “But, you don’t think that’s the case.”

  “I don’t. I think there’s more than one car. I think it’s probably the sheriff and a couple of his deputies. And I think if we don’t get out of here soon, they’ll be coming through the woods after us.”

  “Then why are we standing here discussing it?”

  “I’ve known River for most of my life. I don’t want to believe he has anything to do with Moreno.”

  “So, you want to wait and see what he has to say?”

  “My plan was to drive to the next town over, buy a burner phone and call someone who can help us get phone records and bank records for anyone who had access to you.”

  “Has that changed?”

  “I can’t risk your well-being to go after answers I might not even get.”

  “There’s risk either way. You said yourself that knowing someone doesn’t make them innocent. It’s possible the sheriff is involved. Even if he’s not, he could have led the hit men to our location. There were deputies driving through town when we left. If a group of law enforcement officers left Briarwood, don’t you think that would be like a red flag waved in front of a bull?”

  “Your safety is my top priority, and there is safety in numbers.”

  “There is also safety in keeping a low profile and slipping under the radar, so let’s go with the first plan,” she urged. The last thing she wanted was to make more people Moreno’s targets. His hired thugs wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone and everyone who stood in the way of her death.

  She shuddered, pacing back to the table and grabbing one of the wool blankets that lay on the floor there. She slid out of Mac’s coat and wrapped herself in the blanket.

  “Let’s go,” she said, handing him the coat. “Unless you think we can’t get out in the SUV without being spotted.”

  “I came in a back way that most people don’t know about. It’s three miles of rough road, but the SUV did fine.” He was still staring at the light as if willing it to disappear or to move.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked quietly, afraid her voice would carry through the quiet winter air.

  “That there may be an army of people moving toward us, and we wouldn’t know it until they were on us.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” she murmured, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.”

  “Hold on.” He opened a small closet that stood near the rustic kitchen, rifled through clothes that hung from hangers and handed her a heavy parka. “Put this on. It’ll be a lot easier than dragging a blanket through the woods.”

  She slid into it, watching as he pulled a lockbox from the back of a closet shelf. “Ammunition?” she whispered.

  “Money. My grandfather believed in being prepared.” He tucked the box under his arm, doused the kerosene lamp. “Let’s go.”

  He walked outside, and she followed, certain there was a gleaming bull’s-eye on her chest, begging for a bullet to be fired at it. Mac had been right. The trees were tall, dark shadows in a white landscape. Anyone could be hiding behind one of them. The sheriff. Deputies. Hit men. A friend who was really an enemy. She didn’t want to believe anyone on the ranch had betrayed her. She didn’t want to believe that her life was worth whatever small amount of money had been offered to give away her location.

  But Mac’s list was in her head. The names of people she had come to care about. People who she had thought cared about her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the betrayal of the past was repeating itself and that she had once again trusted someone she shouldn’t have.

  * * *

  Snow blanketed the ground in a thin layer of white that would make tracking them easy. Mac tried to stay close to the thicker evergreens where the tree canopy prevented all but a few flakes from drifting into the woods. That made the trek back to the SUV more difficult. He watched every step, measured every movement, weighed it all in his mind before deciding whether to proceed. He had hoped to stay at the cabin until dawn. Anna was exhausted, and even he needed to sleep. But someone knew they were in the area. He didn’t believe that the lights he’d seen were from random travelers who had run out of gas or gotten a flat tire. Either River had decided to check out the cabin they had stayed in when they were teens wanting to get away from town for a while, or someone who knew about the cabin had told Moreno’s men that it might be a good place to check.

  Either way, he and Anna couldn’t stay.

  Neither of them spoke. The reality of the situation and the danger they were in were obvious. They didn’t need to talk about it. They didn’t need to discuss plans. They needed to move as quickly and quietly as they could.

  He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the winter-gray world for signs they were being followed. The trees stood dark against the light landscape, their branches reaching toward the slate sky. Snow was still falling, the late winter storm not unusual for the area. The roads would be slippery with slush, and he would have to take his time. The last thing he wanted was to slide the SUV into a ditch. They’d be trapped. Sitting ducks waiting to be picked off by the first predator to arrive.

  He did have his gun.

  He also had whatever money his grandfather had left in the cabin. It had been a decade since he had seen what was in the lockbox. It was possible it was empty, but he hoped not. He had his wallet but using a credit or debit card was out of the question. He didn’t want to be found because of a credit card transaction.

  He didn’t want to be found at all.

  Not until he knew who the leak was.

  He didn’t want to believe he’d been bet
rayed by someone close, but the more he thought about the tracking device in Anna’s shoe, the more concerned he became that someone who worked for him was also working for Moreno. The employee schedule was posted in the kitchen every Sunday. Even if it hadn’t been, Anna was a creature of habit. She rose at the same time every day. She swept the front porch of her cabin every morning and evening. She walked out to the kitchen and mess hall a half hour before she was scheduled to work and always had a cup of coffee with Stacey Hamlin. After work, no matter the weather, she returned to her cabin, put on her running clothes and ran. Sometimes for an hour. Sometimes longer.

  Anyone who worked on the ranch would know that.

  Anyone who had spent even a few days watching Anna would know when she was going to be in the cabin and when she wasn’t.

  They reached the SUV, and he opened the passenger door, scanning the silent forest as Anna slid in. It was too quiet. Even on wintery nights, the woods were alive with nocturnal animals. Raccoons. Foxes. Coyotes. Deer. They roamed the hills, scavenging for food. Wild boars and large cats were also known to wander the woods at night. He had seen cougars, panthers and bobcats. He’d hunted with his grandfather and father when the population of wild boars had threatened the cattle that grazed just below the shadowed forest. Even on snowy nights, it shouldn’t be this quiet and still.

  The hair on his nape stood on end as he climbed in and started the engine. The road was just behind them, twin divots cut into a nearly impassable trail. The SUV bounced over ruts as he backed onto overgrown gravel and dirt.

  “You’re quiet,” Anna said as he maneuvered through the darkness. He didn’t dare turn on the headlights. The engine was enough of a beacon, calling anyone in the forest to investigate.

  “Thinking.”

  “About?”

  “The fact that someone planted a tracking device on your shoe.”

  “And?”

  “It had to be someone who works for me. That doesn’t make me happy.”

  “It could have been a visitor. It’s not like you don’t have dozens of strangers on your ranch every week,” she pointed out.

  “How many of them would know your routine? Only someone who knew your schedule would have the guts to go in your cabin and plant that device.”

  “Some of the guests stay a week. That would be long enough to figure out when I work. Or to see me working and sneak to my cabin.”

  “Your cabin is on the opposite side of the ranch from the guest quarters.”

  “Still, if someone really wanted to, they could figure out where I was staying. It’s not like I tried to hide it. I was behaving the way someone who had nothing to hide would. I wasn’t trying to stay hidden or be surreptitious about my activities.”

  “I’d like to think you’re right, but I have a feeling the traitor is a little closer to home.”

  “We need to get the security footage.”

  “First, we need to contact my friend in Dallas. If he can make the trip out here, we’ll have another set of eyes and ears on the ground. Another protective shield between you and the people who are after you. Once that happens, we’re heading back to the ranch.”

  “Are you going to let the sheriff know our plans?” she asked, shifting in her seat and staring out the back window. They were nearing the old paved road he’d driven down while she slept.

  “I’ll call him from the burner phone. After I call my friend.”

  “Do you think he’s involved?”

  “I hope not,” he said. He didn’t believe River could be bought for any price. From the time he was young, he’d had a high sense of justice. He’d skirted the law and gotten into trouble as a teen, but he’d never done anything to hurt another human being. His reputation for compassion and fairness had gotten him elected as the youngest sheriff in the Briarwood’s history. He’d held that position for ten years without any real competition. Mac had considered him a good friend and a great guy. He still did.

  But, anything was possible.

  Experience had taught him that, and he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  “Look, Mac, I know you were paid to do a job. I get that you want to follow through and do what you agreed to, but there isn’t enough money in the world worth your life. I was thinking that when I woke up in the SUV, and you weren’t there. If something happened you because of me, I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “If something happens to me, it won’t be because of you. It will be because of Moreno and his hired thugs.”

  “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

  “I understand perfectly. You think that because there is a threat against me, I should toss you to the wolves and hope they’re so busy tearing you apart they forget about me.” The SUV bounced onto the paved road, a long empty stretch of ice, slush and snow unmarked by tire tracks.

  “That isn’t what I’m saying.”

  “Then, what are you saying?”

  “You have an entire community of people relying on you to keep the ranch going. How many people work for you? Thirty? Forty?”

  “Twenty-five full-time employees. Eighteen part-time.”

  “Right. And most of the full-time employees live on the ranch. Free of charge. Take Stacey for example.”

  “How about we don’t?” he muttered. He knew what she was going to say. He understood her point. Most of the people who worked for him would have trouble finding a job somewhere else. They had been ranch hands or cooks or housekeepers for most of their lives, and there weren’t many opportunities for that kind of work in Briarwood. They’d have to leave the community they loved and head to another town where housing wouldn’t be free and meals weren’t paid for.

  He did right by his employees.

  The same way his grandfather and great-grandfather had.

  They were family, and if something happened to the ranch, if it went under, if he weren’t around to run it, their lives would be irrevocably changed.

  “She’s saving for a house in town. There’s a little ranch for sale, and she’s been eyeing it. Her daughter just got divorced and is talking about moving back here, and Stacey would love to have a place for her and her granddaughter. If something happened to you, and her job was gone, that dream would never come true.”

  “She never mentioned that to me.”

  “Probably because you’ve never spent three hours peeling potatoes with her,” Anna said absently, her gaze on the white-coated road and the distant lights of farmhouses that dotted the area. “If you let me out here, I can walk to one of those houses. You can go back to the ranch and call River and tell him that I ran off, and you don’t know where I went.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “Exactly what I said. No. I’m not letting you out. You aren’t walking to a farmhouse. I’m not calling River.”

  “I don’t see why not. I’m an adult, and I’m perfectly capable of getting myself out of this situation.”

  “First, River would never believe that I let you escape. Second, I’m not here because you’re not capable. You are obviously an intelligent, strong, capable human being. I’m here because Moreno isn’t going to stop until his crime family is shut down or until you’re dead. I’m not willing to allow the second thing to happen.”

  “Mac—”

  “The day you arrived at Sweet Valley Ranch, we became partners in our effort to put him away. Just because you didn’t know it, didn’t mean it wasn’t true. I had all the facts going into this. I made the decision. I’m sticking to my end of the bargain. The partnership doesn’t end until the trial is over and he is convicted and sentenced to a life behind bars. That’s the way I’ve seen it from the beginning. It’s the way I still see it.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I already have enough guilt. I can’t live with more,” she said so quietly he
almost didn’t hear.

  He had done his research. He’d read newspaper accounts of what had happened in Boston. He’d watched news footage of the aftermath of the shooting that had left a prosecuting attorney and a federal witness dead, two police officers and a FBI defense attorney wounded. Annalise Rivers had been caught in the cross fire of a battle she had no part in. The two police officers had also survived, but neither had seen the shooter. Anna had.

  She’d fisted her hands and was staring straight ahead, maybe still looking at the lights. Or, maybe, looking into the past, reliving the shooting.

  He understood. He knew how quickly the past could rise up and take over. He had spent years working through symptoms of PTSD. He had spent countless hours in therapy learning to live with the guilt he’d had for surviving when people he had loved like brothers had not. He lifted one of her hands, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. “What happened wasn’t your fault,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “And you couldn’t have prevented it.”

  She shrugged.

  “You couldn’t have.”

  “I saw the car. If I’d realized what was going to happen, I could have warned the police. They could have stopped the shooter before he fired the first shot.”

  “You know that isn’t true.”

  “No. I don’t,” she said so wearily, he wondered how many hours she had spent reliving those moments, imagining a different outcome, believing she could have changed things.

  “Have you talked to anyone about this?”

  “Who would I talk to? I gave up my friends, my job, my colleagues and my church family when I entered Witness Protection. I can’t discuss it with anyone here, because no one is supposed to know about it.”

  “Did you tell Daniel you were struggling?”

  “Marshal Avery? I don’t have contact information for him. Even if I did, what would I say? It isn’t like I’m not handling things.”