Hidden Witness

by Shirlee McCoy

  “You live in Texas. I live in Boston.”

  “And?”

  “Long-distance relationships seldom work.”

  “They do if both people want them to,” he responded, the pounding behind his eyes and the deadweight of fatigue on his shoulders frustrating him almost as much as the conversation suddenly was.

  “Who knows how we’ll feel in a week or a month or a year?” she said, the sadness in her eyes and her voice making him think she had given up before they had even tried.

  “Why do we need to know? Why can’t we have dinner together tonight and then in Boston? Have lunch one day in between? Call each other on the phone? Keep up until we can be together again? It’s not like we can’t afford to travel. It isn’t like we can’t make the time if we want to.”

  “I don’t want to be hurt again. I don’t want to put my trust in someone, give all my love to someone, plan a future with someone and have it all blow up in my face,” she replied, and he was too tired to argue. He wasn’t sure he could. How did you fight the past? How did you slay the dragons that lived in someone’s heart?

  “I’d hoped that you would know that I would never hurt you. I would never betray you. I certainly wouldn’t walk away from you if you needed me. We’re friends, Anna. You called us buddies, but I think we could have been more to each other. I think we could have been closer than just two people who like to spend time together. If you’d been willing to give it a chance.” He opened the door, kissed her gently on the forehead and stepped away.

  Now wasn’t the time to fight this battle.

  Maybe there wouldn’t ever be a time for it.

  Right now, he needed to get back to the office and back to the computer. There was security footage missing from the file he’d been sent. He needed to track it down. Maybe somewhere in the thousands of hours of recordings, he would find the answers they needed to stop the bomber before he could strike again.

  “Mac,” Anna said, touching his hand, her finger skimming lightly over his wrist. He wanted to twine his fingers through hers, pull her into his arms, and tell her that he understood.

  But he didn’t understand.

  Not really.

  He had been hurt. He had been betrayed. He was still willing to take a chance with his heart.

  “Get some rest. I’ll see you before you leave in the morning,” he said as gently as he could, and then he walked back down the hall and left her standing alone in front of her room.

  THIRTEEN

  Annalise couldn’t sleep.

  She’d been lying in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, calling herself a coward for not going after Mac. She had wanted to. Everything inside her had screamed that letting him walk away would be a mistake.

  Like a fool, she had done it anyway.

  She had been hiding in her room ever since, watching the light drift across the wall as day turned to evening and dusk turned to night. A couple hours ago, someone had knocked on the door to ask if she wanted dinner. She had pretended to be asleep. She hadn’t wanted to face anyone with red eyes and a blotchy face.

  Because, of course, she had been crying.

  Why wouldn’t she be?

  She had let a man she cared about—a man who had risked his life to save hers, a man who might very well be the answer to all the prayers she had prayed when she had been young enough to think she would fall madly in love, get married and grow old with a person who cherished her—walk out of her life because she had been too much of a coward to risk her heart.

  “Idiot,” she muttered, climbing out of bed and pacing to the window. “If you regret what you did, change it. There’s still time. You’re not leaving for a few hours.”

  The pep talk buoyed her confidence, and she walked to the door, listening to the silence of the house as she opened it. There had been a hushed murmur of voices all day, people entering the house and leaving it. Now the place seemed empty, her footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor as she walked to Mac’s office. Like the main room, it was empty, the computer on.

  “They’re out at the cabin with the sheriff, dusting the cameras for prints,” Lucas said, his voice so surprising, she jumped.

  She swung to face him, smiling shakily as he walked into the room. “You scared a few years off my life.”

  “Sorry about that. I was heading out with them when one of the ranch hands called. He found that lockbox of yours in the burn pile and pulled it out. He’s got it at the bunkhouse. I wanted to let you know.” He smiled, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes.

  “Really? That’s fantastic.”

  “I knew you’d think so. I’m heading that way now, if you want to ride along. The others left a few minutes ago, so we should be able to catch up to them. We’ll head to the bunkhouse first, and you can grab the box.”

  “That would be great,” she said, running to the closet and grabbing the coat Stacey had purchased for her. “I’ll grab my phone, too.”

  “You probably won’t need it. We’re not leaving the ranch,” he said, offering a quick smile and glancing at his watch. “It’s getting late. My wife is expecting me home soon. I need to hurry.”

  “I don’t want to hold you up,” she said, suddenly uneasy and not sure why. This was Lucas—a man Mac trusted to run his property, someone who had always been kind and willing to help. She had no reason for the gut-twisting anxiety she was suddenly feeling, but she couldn’t ignore it. “Why don’t you go on without me? My car didn’t survive the bombing, but I’m sure I can call Stacey and catch a ride with her.”

  “No. Grab your phone. I’ll wait.” His smile had disappeared. She couldn’t see his eyes beneath the rim of his hat, but she didn’t think he was happy.

  Something was wrong.

  Really wrong.

  Lucas was always smiling, always jovial, always happy.

  Now he was moving toward her, his body tense, his hands fisted.

  “Really, Lucas. It’s fine. Go home to your wife. I’ll just...”

  He grabbed her arm, yanking her forward so quickly, she didn’t have time to react. “I’m not going to have a wife if we don’t get out of here,” he muttered, dragging her toward the French doors rather than the front door. She didn’t want to know the reason for that. She didn’t want to think the dark thought that was rushing through her mind, either, but it was there. Lucas had access to Mac’s office. He had access to the security cameras. He could have easily accessed her cabin. He had lived in it.

  Was he the leak?

  The bomber?

  The man who had been hunting her in the woods?

  The voice she had recognized when she was in the shed?

  “I’m sure she’s not going to leave you because you’re running late,” she said, tugging away and rushing toward Mac’s office. She planned to dart inside, lock the door and stay there until Mac and Seamus returned, but Lucas grabbed her from behind, his arms wrapping her in a bear hug that nearly crushed the air from her lungs.

  “I don’t want to do this, Anna. I hope you know that. I like you. You’re a nice lady, and I would never hurt you if I didn’t have to.” He whispered the words, his voice harsh and panicky. A voice she recognized from the woods. One she should have recognized before now.

  She tried to elbow him, but his arms were locked around hers, holding them to her sides. She wanted to kick backward and connect with his shin or his knee, but he had her off balance, her weight leaning into his, her feet sliding across the floor as dragged her to the French door and outside onto the patio. His car was parked there, edged up near an old pine tree a hundred yards away.

  A hundred yards to free herself.

  A hundred yards before she was tossed into his vehicle and driven to wherever he planned to dump her body.

  Please, God, she prayed. Give me the strength to escape. Please.


  “Lucas,” she panted, trying to push his arms away, fighting with everything she had and still not able to budge him. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “If I don’t, they’re going to kill my wife.”

  “Not if they go to jail,” she argued, digging her heels into the ground, trying to slow their progress. Hadn’t anyone realized that Lucas had disappeared? Wasn’t anyone wondering why he wasn’t around?

  Probably not.

  He was like the snake in the garden, spouting beautiful words to hide the darkness in his heart.

  “Go to jail? Do you know how many people have died trying to put Moreno there?”

  “What do you have to do with him? How do you even know him?”

  “I don’t. I know his associates. They loan money, and they like to be paid back on time. With interest,” he growled.

  “So pay them back. If you don’t have the money, I’ll lend it to you.”

  “It’s not that easy. Not anymore. Moreno heard you were hiding near Abilene. Someone in the Justice Department is in his pocket. The people I owe money? They want the reward he’s offering to...take care of his problem. They’ve been showing your picture to everyone who owes them. I said I’d seen you. I thought that would be enough. It wasn’t.” They’d reached the car. He had to loosen his grip to open the door.

  She slammed her elbow into his gut, and ran, screaming loudly, all the terror she’d been feeling since the night of the shooting bubbling out. She rounded the corner of the house, knowing he was right behind her. She could hear his panting breath and pounding feet.

  She was nearly to the front yard, still screaming when he tackled her, knocking her off her feet and sending her skidding across the grass. Breath knocked from her lungs, she tried to scramble up again.

  He slammed her back down, yanked a gun from beneath his coat. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of it,” he said.

  “Then, change it,” she replied.

  “Too late.” He slammed the butt of the gun against her temple. She saw stars, felt herself drifting into unconsciousness. She fought it, refusing to give in as he dragged her to the car and tossed her into the back seat.

  She lay where she landed, limp. Still. Hoping he wouldn’t shoot her there. If he drove to another location, she might have a chance to escape.

  He slammed the door and jumped into the driver’s seat, muttering under his breath as he started the engine and pulled away. Slowly. No rush. No hurry. Pretending, as he always had, that he was doing nothing wrong.

  * * *

  Something was bothering him.

  Still.

  Mac had been rolling thoughts around in his head, trying to make sense of his unease. It had something to do with the camera on the fence behind the cabins.

  He stared at it as the sheriff’s deputies dusted for prints, his mind clicking along at a sluggish pace that left him frustrated. He wanted to go back to the house and check on Anna. She hadn’t responded to his knocks at her door. She hadn’t answered when Stacey had asked her if she wanted to eat. She was sound asleep, or she was hiding. Either way, he wanted to make sure she was okay.

  He hadn’t meant to pressure her.

  He wanted a relationship. One that went far beyond buddy status, but he would be content to be friends. He had realized that as he’d watched looped security footage of the explosion and its aftermath. Every time the plant exploded, his heart raced. Every time, he found himself wanting to do even more to protect Anna.

  He had watched as she’d crawled out from under him. Watched as she’d dragged him away from the shooting flames. He’d had no memory of any of it, but now he knew what she had done. The way she had removed her coat to stop his bleeding and followed his gurney to the ambulance as her arm dripped blood.

  She was the kind of person he wanted in his life.

  The kind of person he didn’t want to lose.

  If keeping her around meant staying in the friendship zone, that was what he would do.

  “What’s bugging you?” Seamus asked, his question right to the point. No doubt at all that something was bothering Mac. They knew each other too well for that.

  “I don’t know. Something about the camera, but I can’t figure out what.”

  “That one in particular?” he asked, gesturing to the fence and the sheriff’s deputies.

  “Yes.”

  “Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that your foreman didn’t download the security footage?” he said.

  “Lucas? He said he did.”

  “He was mistaken, or he lied. I checked with the sheriff’s office. Had them send the file they received. It was the same as the one we have here.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. He would have...” Mac stopped, everything suddenly clicking into place, his mind and his thoughts sharply focused. “Where is he?”

  “Lucas? He left ten minutes ago. Said he was heading home. Why?”

  “He didn’t know I’d turned the camera. I’ve always had it facing the pasture. I turned it before Anna arrived, but I didn’t tell anyone, because no one was supposed to know she was in Witness Protection or that I wanted to keep a careful eye on her.”

  “If he thought the camera was turned toward the pasture, why would he download footage from it?” Seamus frowned. “He didn’t download the footage, because he thought the camera was turned away from the cabins. So, he lied. Why?”

  “Because, he didn’t cover the camera lens like he did the one on the tree, and he was trying to buy time so he could access the footage himself and delete it,” Mac responded grimly.

  “He set the bomb, then.” It wasn’t a question. They both knew the truth.

  “Let’s go. If he headed back to the house, he already has a ten-minute head start on us.” He sprinted to the road, adrenaline shooting through him and stealing away the pain and fatigue.

  Lucas, a man he had known and trusted for nearly twenty years, had placed the bomb. He was the traitor, and Anna was alone at the house, completely unaware that he couldn’t be trusted.

  “What’s going on?” Daniel rolled up beside him in his SUV, shoving open the door so Mac could scramble in. Seamus shoved him into the console and climbed in beside him.

  “It’s Lucas. He’s the one who’s been after Anna. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before,” he growled, slamming his hand onto the dashboard. “He had access to everything. He has free run of the ranch, including my office. He could have easily planted the tracking device.”

  “Think about what you’re saying,” Daniel responded. “He could have killed her a dozen times over. No one suspected him. He had easy access to her. Maybe—”

  “He wouldn’t kill her here. He wanted it to look like an accident. Or like she walked into the wilderness and disappeared. Think about that. You know Moreno’s MO better than I do, but all a person has to do is read a few newspaper articles and it’s clear that people who cross him aren’t usually found. They’re gone. Dropped off the face of the earth so there’s no way to connect him to their deaths. That’s how he has stayed out of prison for so long.”

  “Right,” Daniel muttered. “That’s his MO. Make them disappear. Or they commit suicide. Every once in a while, there’s an accident, but people who cross him aren’t usually murdered. Until the courthouse shooting. His big mistake.”

  “It’s only a mistake if Anna survives to testify against him,” Mac said, leaning forward as they approached the house. It looked normal. Almost. He could see scuff marks in the rocky path near the side of the house and tire tracks in the grass.

  “He’s been here, and he’s gone,” he said, knowing without going inside that Anna was gone, too.

  “We need to check on Anna,” Daniel said.

  “He had her. Look at the marks in the grass and on the path. There was a struggle, and he drove off.”<
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  “Has he made it to the gate yet?” Seamus asked. “Is there any way to send deputies to cut him off before he hits the road?”

  “I can lock down the gate and freeze the code so it can’t be opened. If he hasn’t left. Wait here.” Mac jumped out and ran into the house, punching numbers into the security panel on the wall and locking down the gate.

  When he returned to the SUV, Seamus was on the phone, calling in for a roadblock. Mac scrambled into the back seat, praying that Lucas was still inside the gate as Daniel accelerated down the driveway.

  They were halfway to the gate when he saw the car, parked in front of the gate, the driver’s door open. A backdoor was open, too. The SUV screeched to a halt behind the vehicle, and Mac jumped out.

  “They can’t have gone far,” Seamus said, glancing inside the car. “No blood on the seats. No sign that anyone was injured.”

  “There are plenty of injuries that don’t bleed,” Mac responded grimly, scanning the fields beside the driveway.

  He saw nothing. Just fences. Fields. Trees.

  “We need to split up,” he said. “Look for tracks. There is no way they walked through the wet field without leaving some. If you find something, holler. We’ll follow on foot. If Anna is conscious, she’s fighting to slow him down.”

  If.

  He hated saying that.

  He hated knowing that she could be unconscious, helpless, injured.

  Worse.

  Please, God, help us find her, he prayed as he crouched near the car and looked for the first set of prints.

  FOURTEEN

  Anna couldn’t breathe.

  She couldn’t move.

  She could barely think.

  But she could hear voices.

  She knew help was close.

  If she could just push Lucas’s huge body away, get his hand off her mouth, she could scream. She hadn’t escaped the car to die in a field. She could do this. She had no choice.