Hidden Witness

by Shirlee McCoy

  The bolt was still in place but as she watched, the lock popped, the knob turned.

  She dove for the bed, scrambling over it and diving to the floor on the other side, expecting gunshots to shatter the eerie quiet.

  “Anna,” Mac whispered.

  She popped back up, saw him peering out from the crack in the partially open door.

  “What are you doing? You scared ten years off my life,” she hissed, rushing to pull the bolt.

  “Turn off the lights,” he responded, stepping into the room and rushing to the window to unlock and open it. She thought they were going to climb out, but he grabbed her hand, yanking her with him as he closed the bathroom door and hurried back into the room next door.

  He closed the door, using a multitool to lock it from the outside. Then closed the second door, bolting and locking it.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  He pressed a finger to his lips and shook his head, gesturing for her to follow him across the threadbare rug. Like the other room, this one had a door to an adjoining room. It was opened, and he led her through, closing and locking both doors. She planned to ask questions, but his hands were resting on her shoulders, his silvery-blue eyes staring straight into hers.

  He didn’t tell her to stay quiet.

  He didn’t have to.

  They stood like that for several minutes, her breathing calming, her heartbeat slowing. The weight of his hands comforting. She didn’t know how it happened. One minute, she was standing a foot away, staring into his eyes. The next, she was inches from his chest, his hands sliding down her shoulders and resting on her back.

  “Shh,” he whispered, pressing her head to his chest, his fingers combing through her hair.

  She closed her eyes, giving in for a moment, allowing herself to relax against him, to let him offer the support she had been craving. It felt right to be there, comfortable in a way few things in her life had. She had always felt as if she were swimming against the tide, fighting to find her place in the world. She had thought that a good job, a nice home and a network of friends and coworkers would give her the feeling of belonging, but they had only fed her emptiness. Her marriage had done the same. She had yearned for a place where she felt like she was home, and she had searched for it in dozens of different ways—reaching out to church groups, joining book clubs, working extra hours to make herself indispensable.

  Only she hadn’t been.

  Her supervisor hadn’t been distraught when she had announced that she was taking a leave of absence. He had been understanding of the situation she was in, and he had assured her that she could return to her job after the trial, but he hadn’t seemed worried about the case load she had been carrying. By the time she’d left the hospital and met with him, he had another attorney lined up to take over.

  The FBI was doing just fine without her.

  Her friends were doing just fine.

  Her church groups and book clubs were doing fine.

  She wanted just one person in her life who wouldn’t be fine if she were gone.

  Voices carried in from the hall. Men. Maybe a woman, too. She could hear them talking but not what was being said. She pulled back, looking into Mac’s face.

  “Police,” he mouthed.

  She nodded, tense again, ready for someone to knock on the door and barrel in. Boots thudded on the floor outside their room, the soft squeak of leather shoes reminding her of the courthouse the night of the shooting and the soft creak of leather holsters and polished shoes as the police escorted their prisoner outside.

  She was trembling, her teeth chattering with the force of her fear and the memories.

  Mac’s arms curved around her, his hands sliding under her coat and smoothing circles along her spine. She tried to focus on that and not allow herself to drift into the past. She’d had flashbacks before. She had dealt with the panic by running. Now she was trapped, unable to do anything but stand where she was and pray she wasn’t pulled so far into past terror that she forgot where she was and what was at stake.

  * * *

  Anna was panicking, her hands fisted at her sides, her breathing shallow. He could feel the terror rolling off her in waves of useless energy that he thought had more to do with her past and less to do with their current situation. He didn’t want to be caught by the police, but if they were, it wasn’t the end of the road for either of them. They weren’t criminals. They had done nothing wrong. If River had called in APBs on them, it would have been because they were in possible danger. Not because they were wanted.

  Unless he was in Moreno’s pocket.

  Then, he had called in for help locating them because he needed to finish the job he had been paid to do.

  He frowned, smoothing a hand down Anna’s spine and pressing her head to his chest. She was wound up tight, her body so taut she was trembling. He could hear the police knocking on a door, the soft clink of keys as they unlocked it. They weren’t going in with guns drawn. They weren’t expecting trouble. They were going to find an empty room and an open window. Let them think what they wanted about that. He had been back to the car and removed the remainder of the cash from the lockbox. He didn’t think he would need it. His plan was to return to Sweet Valley as soon as Seamus arrived. They weren’t going to find answers cowering in a motel room, and he wasn’t going to leave Anna behind so he could search himself.

  The voices grew closer and then receded. No stress in them. No real sense of urgency. They were looking for possible victims of a crime. Possible witnesses to it. That wasn’t a surprise to Mac. He had been expecting and prepping for it from the moment he had left Anna in the room.

  She was still shaking, still tense, her muscles taut with the effort to keep her terror under control.

  “It’s okay,” he said quietly, his hands stroking the length of her back. His goal was to ground her in the moment, hold her there instead of letting her mind jump to the past. He’d had flashbacks. He knew how real the danger could feel. If she started screaming, they’d be discovered. Not the end of the world, but not in his plans. He wanted freedom to return to the ranch as quickly as possible. The sooner he pulled the security footage and saw who had entered Anna’s cabin, the happier he would be. He had a ranch to run. He had people depending on him. He also had Anna’s life in his hands. His choices, decisions he made could mean the difference between her survival and her death.

  She pulled back, her hands shaking as she dragged her hair from the ponytail holder and scraped it into a messy bun at the back of her neck. A few strands lay against her neck and slid across her shoulders, and she pulled the coat tight and tried to button it. She was still breathing unevenly, her pulse pounding rapidly in the hollow of her throat, her hands shaking violently.

  He brushed them away, buttoning the coat quickly even though he had no intention of leaving the hotel until Seamus arrived. If being buttoned into heavy wool calmed her, he was all for it.

  She didn’t meet his eyes as she pulled the collar of the coat around her ears and then smoothed it down again.

  “Well, that was fun,” she murmured, offering a tired smile as she glanced toward the window. The curtains were wide open, the parking lot clearly visible. “I should close those.”

  “Not yet.” He snagged the back of the coat to hold her in place. “The police might notice and come back.”

  “I guess the old guy at the desk doesn’t really mind his own business.”

  “Did you think he would?”

  “Every once in a while, I have hope that a person is really what he says,” she replied, her body still trembling but her voice clear.

  He wanted to pull her back into his arms, absorb the tremors that were wracking her body and tell her again that everything would be okay.

  “Every once in a while, a person is,” he replied, edging her closer to the wall, afraid the police would
walk past the window and see them there.

  “Maybe.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand shaking. He should have left it alone, gone on with the morning and pretended he didn’t see that she was still struggling.

  That was probably what she wanted.

  It was probably what he should want.

  He didn’t need to complicate the situation by letting emotions come into play. Not his or hers. But he had known her for seven months. He’d watched her adjust to life on the ranch, he’d seen how she’d fit herself into the community there, and he had been intrigued by that. Most of the guests who visited Sweet Valley Dude Ranch were there to escape hectic urban and suburban lives. They weren’t there to get their hands dirty. They wanted the experience of ranch life minus all the hard stuff. The witnesses he’d allowed to stay and work on the ranch had been the same. Some were low-level criminals who had decided to come clean and make a fresh start. Others were family members of criminals. A few had been victims. None had been like Anna—eager to get involved, energetic and enthusiastic about the assigned work.

  He had admired her work ethic and positive outlook from the day she had arrived on the ranch. He hadn’t taken the time to tell her that. His life was busy. The ranch demanded all his time and attention, but people were important too. Their well-being also needed to be a priority.

  He wrapped his hand around hers, stilling the tremors and offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Everything is fine. Even if the police had found us, we wouldn’t have been in immediate danger.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. He didn’t hear fear in her voice. He heard defeat.

  “It gets better,” he said, speaking into the silence, filling it with words he knew were useless. This was a road she had to walk at her own pace. All the platitudes and encouragement in the world couldn’t change that.

  “Does it?” she moved back, her hands dropping away as she paced to the bathroom door and opened it. She stood staring into the dark interior, her back to Mac. Maybe she didn’t want him to see the fear that was still in her eyes.

  “It takes time, but yes.”

  “How much time?” she asked, turning to face him again.

  “For me? It’s been nearly a decade. I still have nightmares. Once in a while, I have a panic attack or a flashback.”

  “From your time in the military?”

  “I lost friends in the military. I held one of my best friends as he lay dying after the IED explosion that ended my career.” He said it casually, but it still hurt. Even after all this time. The fact that he had let months pass without touching base with Seamus bothered him a lot. Their bond had been tight, but it had been forged in steel the day they had watched Scott Handler die.

  “I’m sorry, Mac. I know that doesn’t help, but I am.”

  “And I’m sorry your life got turned upside down by Moreno and his hired hit man. I’m sure you’d rather have spent the past six months in Boston.”

  “I don’t know. I was working too hard in Boston. One of those hamsters on a wheel, running fast and getting nowhere.”

  “Becoming a defense attorney for the FBI isn’t getting nowhere.”

  She shrugged, the loose strands of her hair sliding across her nape. “It isn’t necessarily getting where I wanted to be, either.”

  “Where did you want to be?” he asked.

  “I wanted a family. Kids. The house in the suburbs. All the things that I thought would come along once I had the job.” She smiled. “I have a one-bedroom apartment in a nice area of Boston and a potted fern that I gave to my neighbor before I left town, so life isn’t bad. It’s just not exactly what I planned.”

  “You still have plenty of time to work on those plans.”

  “Not if I die.”

  “I won’t let you die.”

  “Keeping me alive goes above and beyond the buddy code of conduct,” she said with a wry smile. “As a matter of fact, I’d understand if you headed back to the ranch and left me here to fend for myself.”

  “I’m pretty sure keeping you alive is in the code,” he replied, smiling in return.

  “Is this our first argument, Mac?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, all the terror and anxiety gone from her face and her eyes.

  “How about we discuss that at a later date?” He pulled out the phone he’d used to call Seamus. He needed to let him know what room they were in and warn him that the police were prowling the area.

  “That’s what every man says when he plans to never discuss something again,” she quipped.

  “I’m not every man, so how about we discuss it over dinner after this is over?”

  “Dinner that I cook in the ranch kitchen and serve to you and a dozen guests and a couple dozen ranch hands?” She laughed, her eyes glowing with amusement.

  “That I cook,” he replied.

  “You cook?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is there anything you don’t do?”

  “Plenty. We can discuss that over dinner, too.” He had been trying to lighten her mood and get her mind off her fear, but he liked the idea of having dinner with Anna.

  “Sounds too good to pass up,” she murmured, the amusement fading from her eyes.

  “Then don’t.”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Pass it up.”

  “Did I say I was going to?”

  “You were thinking about it.”

  “I mentioned that I was married before, right?”

  “What does that have to do with dinner?”

  “You’re not the kind of guy many women would want to walk away from.”

  “I have an ex who proves otherwise.”

  “You were married?”

  “Engaged.”

  “That’s not the same.”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand what it’s like to love someone and then watch them walk away.” He didn’t offer more information. The relationship had ended years ago. It wasn’t something he spent much time thinking about, and he certainly didn’t waste time talking about it.

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. I thought I’d have the family and kids, too.”

  “I guess we both still have time for those things.”

  “I guess we do,” he replied, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, he wondered if there was room in his life for those old dreams to spring to life.

  It was something he wanted to think about. Something he was open to. If the right woman came along.

  As he dialed Seamus’s number and waited for his friend to pick up, he couldn’t help wondering if she already had.

  TEN

  Seamus Murphy arrived silently, slipping into the room through the side door rather than the hallway. A few inches shorter than Mac with black hair and vivid green eyes, he had a lean runner’s build and a hard-edged gaze that would have made Anna fidget if she hadn’t spent most of her adult life working in the court system and dealing with law enforcement officers.

  “Thanks for coming, brother,” Mac said, giving him a side hug and a hard pat on the back.

  “You’d have done the same for me. If I ever needed help, but we both know that rarely happens.” He smiled, offering Anna a firm handshake. “Ma’am, I’m Seamus Murphy. Shay to my friends.”

  “Annalise Rivers. Anna to everyone in Texas.” His smile broadened.

  “Anna, then. I wasn’t expecting Mac to have a friend with him, but it’s pleasure to meet you.”

  “I wish it were under better circumstances,” she responded.

  “Yes. The circumstances are a little less than idea.” He glanced around the room. “You two ready to get out of here? My Jeep is parked out front. You can fill me in on what’s going on once we’re on the road.”

 
“Heading back to the ranch?” Mac asked, tossing the phone he had used on the bedside table and leaving it there.

  “Is that the plan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Shay didn’t ask questions as they stepped into the hall. The two men flanked Annalise, shoulders brushing hers as they all marched past the check-in desk and out into the parking lot. There was no trying to hide, no darting behind cars or sprinting away. They were leaving in plain sight of anyone who cared to look, and Mac seemed fine with that.

  She felt exposed, anxious and worried.

  She’d agreed that going back to the ranch made sense. They needed to get the security footage from the cameras near her cabin if they were going to figure out who had placed the tracking device in her pedometer. Whoever it was had probably been paid a hefty sum of money to do it.

  Desperation made people do desperate things.

  It was possible her betrayer would become a murderer with the right motivation. She hated to think that. She didn’t want to believe that any of the people she had met on the ranch would hurt her.

  Shay’s Jeep was parked near the curb, the engine still running. He opened the back door, and she climbed in, her pulse racing uncomfortably. This might be just another day for Mac and Shay, but it wasn’t for Annalise. She worked with FBI agents. Not hardened criminals. She defended them from false accusations. She spent hours in her office doing research and prepping for trial. She never knowingly walked into dangerous situations. She wasn’t excited about doing it now.

  But if that was what it was going to take to plug the leak and stop Moreno, that’s what she would have to do.

  “What about the SUV?” she asked as Mac climbed in the front passenger seat.

  “I’ll send a ranch hand to get it and return it to Linda. For now, we’re safer staying together.”

  She was safer.

  They were not.

  The closer they got to her, the more danger they were putting themselves in. That was something she couldn’t forget as she settled into the leather seat. It weighed on her mind, caused her to wonder if she were making a terrible mistake. If something happened to Mac or Shay because of her, she didn’t think she could ever forgive herself.