The Eyewitness

by Nancy C. Weeks

  For some reason, that answer bothered her, even though it made perfect sense.

  Oliver eyed the open drawer. “Is it stuck?” he asked, stepping farther into the room.

  Emersyn lifted a black plastic pen cap. “This was in the track.”

  For the second time in two days, a lie came too easily to her lips. Nasty habit. But the urge to keep the flash drive secret overruled the truth. An awkward silence consumed the room.

  “Are you checking up on me, Captain?”

  A grin crossed his face. “Not exactly. You’re not going to like this, but I gave Angela a call.”

  “Why did you do that? It makes it look like—”

  “Go easy, Emersyn. Joe would expect me to look after you. Whatever happened in that lab yesterday came from grief. You’ve been through enough. I simply reminded her.”

  Heat rolled up Emersyn’s neck and into her cheeks. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful.”

  “But you wish I’d kept my nose out of your business.”

  “Just a little. I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” She pinned her arms to her sides and gulped down the irritation. It seemed to be her normal state these days. “Maybe I need to take a step back and do something else until . . . ”

  “Until we find Joe’s killer,” Oliver said.

  “No, that’s not happening. You’re not quitting.” Alec stood in the doorway, his fists on his hips, thick tension rolling off him in waves. He stormed past Oliver and slammed his palms flat on the desk. “You’ve worked like crazy to get to this point. You don’t get to throw it all away.”

  “Good morning to you, too, Alec,” Emersyn said. “You look like hell.”

  Dark circles accented his deep-brown irises. Had he spent the entire night at the crime scene? His dress shirt and black-denim jeans looked clean, but he wore the same thing every day—black with black. It was the stubble that covered his jaw and neck that made him look dangerous and damn sexy. Emersyn gathered her messenger bag and draped it over her shoulder. “I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

  “Why are you here, Em?” He peered around the office, and a deep sadness edged into his features. It was a side of Alec she didn’t see often.

  “The office is now yours.”

  “I don’t want the damn thing.” He glanced inside a box, lifted out the frog paper-clip holder, and held it close to his chest. “You didn’t need to pack up your dad’s stuff. I would have gotten around to it.”

  “You can have that.” She took the holder from him and placed it back on the desk. With her keys in her hand, she reached for a box and turned toward the door.

  Alec blocked her. “Give me your keys.”

  The tremor in his voice was stern, harsh even. But it was an act. There was something else so familiar to Emersyn—a raw ache, as if someone had drilled a hole the size of Texas in his heart, and it could never be filled. She had the same hole.

  For once, she didn’t argue and dropped her keys into his palm. “I’m parked in the second row.”

  “I saw your car.” He stacked two boxes and walked out of the office.

  “Well, that went well,” Emersyn whispered.

  “Pearce stayed at the scene long after he needed to be there,” Oliver told her, “and he’s been sitting on Angela’s team all morning.”

  A slight grin touched Emersyn’s lips. “You don’t have to make excuses for his behavior. I’m quite used to his temper.” She lifted the last box. “Thanks for this. It helped some.”

  That wasn’t a lie. The flash drive had to mean something.

  “Angela will give you a call in a couple days. I agree with Alec. Think hard before throwing in the rag. You have never been a quitter. Besides, we all mess up the first few days on the job.”

  I didn’t mess up. The unspoken words almost choked her. Oliver claimed to have her back but was so quick to judge her. He’d never even asked what happened.

  What had caused the sprinkler system to deluge the lab? And why didn’t the power automatically shut off at the same time? Those were the questions Oliver should’ve been demanding answers to.

  She took one more look around the office and fought back tears. This was the place that had taken her father away from his family time and again. She’d never held that against him. Being a detective wasn’t what he did. It was a part of who he was as much as he was a husband and a father.

  As she moved through the door, the men and women who’d worked so closely with her father stood. Their stares were filled with the same grief that lived with her.

  “They’re just Dad’s things.” When tears filled her eyes, she didn’t fight them. “He’s not gone, you know.” She couldn’t help glancing back at the office. “He’s part of all of us.”

  She said a quick good-bye and headed toward the stairwell. Once out on the sidewalk, she filled her lungs with cold air. Alec leaned against the hood of her sedan, his arms tight around his waist. She had no idea what to say to him, so she kept quiet. He took the box and placed it in the trunk with the others.

  Emersyn opened the driver’s door then faced him. He moved in close, the back of his finger brushing away the moisture on her cheeks. She didn’t pull away when his hand rested on her waist. “I’m sorry, Alec. I thought clearing my father’s office would help.”

  “You don’t owe me an apology. I get why you came here, and it is me who should apologize. I took my mood out on you.”

  He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Emersyn ached to press her hand over his and feel his heat on her face. But at the same time, a new sense of self-preservation prickled across her skin. Who could she trust? Her own mother had warned her that she really didn’t know the man in front of her.

  Fear had a way of distorting reality. Her world had become so damn confusing she couldn’t find balance. She slipped her hand into her pocket and fingered the flash drive. The small piece of plastic could be nothing—or it could be everything.

  “Em, where did you go?”

  She faked a smile. “Just thinking about work. I keep expecting an email from security requesting my badge.”

  He drew her close, wrapping his arms around her, his warmth calming her immediately. She couldn’t pull away. She needed this—something else she couldn’t understand.

  He finally dropped his arms and took a step back. “I know Angela McCain well. Regardless of how she feels about you right now, she will get to the bottom of what happened yesterday.”

  “I keep running the events through my head. The fire had to come from inside the walls, but there was no burning smell.”

  “The fire marshal and CI team are on scene. This wasn’t a lab accident, and they aren’t treating it as one.”

  “Why haven’t they questioned me?”

  “I’m sure they will at some point.” He lifted her chin. “Something else is wrong. I see it in your eyes. What else happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You are a terrible liar.” He let her go, resting his arm on the roof of her car. If he was trying to make her feel trapped, it worked.

  “From my house to here, what could have possibly happened?”

  “What do I have to do to get you to trust me, Em?”

  The annoyance in his voice set her back up. “I’m not getting into this with you in the parking lot.”

  “Answer my damn question.”

  And they were right back where they always seemed to fall, at each other’s throats. She tossed her shoulder bag into the front seat. Hell, if it was a fight he wanted, then maybe a good bitch-slap was what she needed to clear her head. “For starters, you can stop pissing me off with things like this.” Emersyn knocked his arm off her car so she could drop into the seat. He blocked the door when she tried to close it.

  “How, Em? I walk into a room, and your blood starts to boil.”

  She couldn’t get the shields up fast enough. “You could at least pretend you don’t despise me, maybe treat me occasionally like you treat Tessa.”

&n
bsp; He knelt and reached for her hand. “I don’t despise you.”

  “Now who is lying?”

  His expression turned hard, cold. “And I have never lied to you.” He stood and nudged her with his thigh. “Move over.”

  She shoved back. “Ask nicely.”

  His eyebrows rose to his hairline, but a hint of amusement crept into his eyes. “You’re right. We can’t do this here. Will you please move over?”

  “No, but you’re welcome to the passenger seat.”

  This time when she shoved, he stumbled far enough for her to shut the door. As she flipped the locks, a rough growl came from deep in his throat. If she was going to be stuck in such close quarters with him, it was going to be on her terms.

  He stalked around the car and dropped into the passenger seat. Once the door closed, Emersyn’s bravo evaporated. It wasn’t his size or even his height that made her pulse quicken. Energy radiated off him in waves. His essence crackled like the air right before a fierce storm. Now that she had kissed him, almost completely losing herself, there was a sensual undertone swirling within that storm. Her body craved his closeness, his touch, his taste.

  “Are we going to sit here?” The gruff impatience in his voice shook her out of her head.

  “Just waiting for directions. What did you have in mind?”

  “I need protein and about a gallon of good coffee. There’s only one place that comes to mind.”

  “I can eat,” she choked out.

  “At the parking lot exit, take a right.”

  After ten minutes of nerve-racking silence, he directed her off the main highway but drove past several eateries. She turned into a neighborhood with large oaks growing on both sides of the road. The street reached a dead end at a circular cul-de-sac surrounded by stone-faced townhomes nestled against a wooded area. Even in the dead of winter, the scene was welcoming.

  “Where are we?”

  “Home. My place.” He met her stare. “Best coffee in town, and I make a mean omelet. Or pancakes if you prefer.”

  Emersyn swallowed her shock. She envisioned his place as a one-bedroom walk-up, no personality, no charm. He lived the job, and she always figured he had no use for nesting. When he craved a home-cooked meal, he was always welcome at her mother’s table. But this was a home, a nice one at that.

  “Are you coming? I promise I won’t bite, unless you ask.”

  Pure need shot straight to her core. He was being charming, which scared her to her toes. In a public place, she would have to behave herself. If he tried anything here, would she have the will to stop him?

  Chapter Nine

  Alec unlocked the door and stepped aside. Before Emersyn could enter the small foyer, he leaned in, his breath caressing her neck.

  “Just coffee, food, and conversation. You’re as safe here as in your own home.”

  The words were kind, but she didn’t believe it for a minute.

  Alec led her into a large open room furnished with rich, brown leather sectionals that surrounded a stone fireplace. Natural light filled the space, and the walls were painted a light cream, but it was the vibrant abstracts on the walls that drew her eye. They looked to be original pieces. She moved in closer. “These are beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  She glanced at the right corner of one of the canvases. A. Pearce. “You’re the artist?” Hopefully, her shock didn’t come out in her voice.

  He leaned against the back of the sofa. “I enjoy smashing colors together. No real talent.”

  Emersyn couldn’t take her eyes off the painting over the fireplace. How could he believe he had no talent? “There is emotion . . . passion in these pieces that takes my breath away.”

  “It’s acrylic on canvas. Everyone needs a vice, an outlet.”

  He headed into the kitchen and flipped on the switch for the coffee. He grabbed several ingredients from the refrigerator, pulled out a wooden cutting board, and started chopping. He lifted his head and met her stare. “Pull up a stool and keep me company.”

  “Can I help?”

  She wasn’t sure how she got the words out. Her mother was right. She hadn’t a clue who Alec Pearce was.

  “I got this. Just relax.”

  “You said you wanted to talk.”

  “We eat first.”

  “Spill it, Pearce. Don’t go quiet on me again.”

  “Okay, for starters, what happened in your dad’s office that upset you?”

  Shit. The flash drive rested in her pocket. She wasn’t ready to share that just yet. “I changed my mind. We really should eat first.”

  Turning her back to him, she moved to the sofa and dropped into one of the thick, comfortable cushions. A groan escaped her lips as she melted into the softness. The tension in her shoulders and lower back evaporated into thin air. This was a perfect nap couch. Did she have the nerve to slip her shoes off and make herself comfortable? Her mind then went into a dangerous direction: cuddling up for a mid-morning catnap with Alec Pearce.

  Stop it! She shook the heated thought from her head and studied Alec moving about the kitchen. He was relaxed, at home in that small place, slicing through vegetables like a pro. He cracked eggs in a large bowl and sprinkled in a dash of salt and pepper.

  “You’re full of surprises today,” Emersyn said. “Who taught you to cook?”

  “I learned because I enjoy eating.” He began whipping the eggs until they were fluffy. “I picked up some tips from your mom. The rest was trial and a lot of error.”

  She pulled her glare away from the way the muscles in his shoulders bunched, strength and power disguised in the simple task of making an omelet. She took a deep, relaxing breath and cooled her libido. It had been dormant for months, until Alec reentered her life. Now it ran in high gear. Maybe she had a thing for detectives who cooked. Then again, everything Alec did made her pulse jump.

  Leaning forward, she selected a magazine with a fisherman on the cover from the coffee table. An article about fish ought to do the trick of redirecting her attention. Less than a minute later, she tossed it back and tried another. She flipped through the pages until she spotted something—a familiar police file sticking out from under the stack of magazines.

  Her gaze darted back to Alec to make sure he wasn’t looking. Then she picked up the file and tucked it between the pages of the magazine, flipping to the first paper in the file. She sucked in a breath as blood rushed to her head. It wasn’t about her father’s case . . . It was her own arrest sheet from five years ago.

  “Why do you have this?”

  Alec set down the knife he was using. “Don’t go ballistic on me, Em.” He strolled into the living room and sat next to her. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to give it to you.”

  “Five years? Where in the hell did it come from?”

  “It no longer exists in any database. The file was expunged. I kept this copy because I thought you needed to know what was in it.”

  The air grew thick with the scent of dark roasted coffee, and her stomach churned. “Again, why is it here?”

  “You and Joe would never talk about what happened that night. And we’ve been walking on eggshells for way too long. There is nothing you can say to me that I haven’t said to myself a hundred times over.”

  “Oh, I can think of a few choice words.”

  “I need you to know that I understand what went down that night. The truth. Just read it.”

  She scanned the pages. It was all there, every grueling detail of the evening she’d been arrested in an alcohol-and-drug bust at a campus frat house. Her roommate’s confession was written out in her messy script: the text she sent Emersyn, the date rape–drugged water bottle, and then the raid her roommate had called in so Emersyn would be caught in the mix. To think, Emersyn had raced across campus because she thought Alison was going to commit suicide in front of her ex-boyfriend’s frat buddies.

  It was like being sucker-punched all over again. She’d never understood why Alison hated h
er so much. They’d never been great friends or run in the same circles. But to go to such extremes to hurt Emersyn?

  She drew her attention away from the file and forced herself to face Alec. Damn it to hell. He cared about this. It was written all over his face. But if that were true, why was he shoving this down her throat now, and why hadn’t he had a little faith in her then? The arrest had placed such a wedge between her and her father, it took the rest of her college years to recover.

  To be fair, they had both betrayed her the one time she really needed them. But Alec, he had the truth in his hand. His silence cost her years with her father. How could she forgive and forget that?

  She dropped the file. “I can’t do this.”

  Alec dashed in front of her, blocking her exit. “Don’t walk away. Please, Emersyn.”

  Now he remembered her full name. And he said please. Double shit.

  She wanted to lash out, hit something, jab him in the gut so he would hurt like she did. “What is the point of bringing all this up?”

  “I should have listened to you, protected you, instead of arresting you with that group of assholes.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Like hell it doesn’t. You were drugged and almost raped that night. I wanted to kill the guy who had you up against that wall.”

  You almost did. And then he’d grabbed her arms together, yanking them behind her back. That was the moment she’d met another side of Alec and couldn’t help questioning her father’s choice in partner. “I remember. I don’t need a reminder.” She tossed the file onto the coffee table, and it spilled to the floor. “If this is your way of developing trust, you’re a bigger jerk than I thought.”

  He picked up the file. “Up until that night, your crush on me was charming.”

  “That crush no longer exists.”

  He stepped into her personal space and caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. “You sure about that? Maybe we should test . . . ”

  She pushed him back so hard, his leg hit the edge of the sofa and he lost his balance. She rushed toward the front door.

  “I was teasing.” He raked a hand over the back of his neck. “Let me say what I need to, and then if you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”