The Eyewitness

by Nancy C. Weeks

  “You have disgraced everything that badge at your waist stands for,” she told Oliver. “Take it off.”

  “You also never know when to shut it,” Oliver hissed, easing her father’s weapon from her bag. “Not the time to piss me off, little girl.”

  He chucked the bag into the steel drum. It hit with a loud bang that vibrated off the walls. An instant later, a blast erupted from its well, sending fire and dark smoke into the air. Alec tucked her into him, trying to cover her as scorching heat and debris showered them. Before Emersyn could catch her breath, a gunshot pierced the air. She jerked upright in time to see crimson spattered over the cement floor as the killer dropped. The clean hole between his eyebrows sent a shiver down Emersyn’s spine.

  Oliver strolled over to the body and picked up the remote. “Now we have a problem,” he said, wiping a thin layer of sweat from his forehead. He turned back to Emersyn, eyes dark as coal. “If you had kept your nose out of this case like I begged you to do more than once, things would be different.” He leaned over the dead man and searched his pockets, drawing out another weapon at his ankle. When he rose, the laser dots didn’t dance over them. They were steady, each a kill shot.

  “I didn’t order Joe’s hit. I never thought the person responsible would turn down that road. Tonight, I’ll make sure he has a nice place to roast next to this one,” he said, kicking the dead man over so he laid directly in front of them. “It’s a shame when things have to change.”

  “Who hired the bastard?” Alec’s cold, distant voice sounded nothing like him.

  “Someone you will never have the pleasure of meeting.”

  “Then answer the damn question.” Emersyn inched beside Alec, who seemed to understand her move. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, resting his hand on her hip, the chains bouncing off her thigh. Whatever happened in the next few minutes, they were in it together.

  A hint of remorse flashed into Oliver’s eyes. “I didn’t know about the contract on Joe. You have to believe at least that. We’ve been friends since childhood. I loved that man like a brother. Had I known, I would have stopped it.” His gaze darted around the warehouse. “I spent my career being the best cop I could be to make things right, you know. I never wanted things to get to this point.”

  “But you knew all along that my dad wasn’t killed by the copycat sniper,” Emersyn said. “You led a four-state police task force on a wild goose chase just to cover your own ass. This guy must have something really good on you.”

  “I’m not a killer.” Oliver wiped her father’s revolver down with the hem of his sport coat.

  “Yeah, you are,” Alec said. “How many others have you killed, Captain? What’s two more? I can see your mind racing. You set off the sniper rifles, and now you’re staging this scene to appear to CSI that I fired at the exact moment the killer pushed the remote. Tragic, but you walk free.” Alec again inched in front of Emersyn. “Give me a real chance, you fucking son of a bitch.”

  She ducked as the chain whipped over her head, striking Oliver hard on his shoulder and neck. Oliver jerked, letting out a scream. Alec rushed him and gripped the back of Oliver’s hand, forcing his thumb away from the button. An instant later, he swung a hard fist into Oliver’s gut, knocking him to his knees.

  The remote dropped, and Emersyn leaped, hitting the concrete floor. The remote landed upside down in the palm of her hand. She rolled away from the fight. One false move, and she would set off all six weapons. She pinched her thumb and forefinger on the bottom of the casing and eased it off her hand. Now what?

  Choking fear screwed up her reasoning. Her gaze fell on the small lid that covered the battery compartment on the tiny remote. She flipped it open with a fingernail. Two shakes, and the batteries hit the floor.

  Emersyn jerked her head toward the fight. The red laser beams disappeared, but Oliver had somehow flipped Alec on his back and had her father’s gun aimed at Alec’s heart.

  Hell no!

  Emersyn tackled Oliver from behind, landing hard on his shoulder blades. She brought her elbow up and slammed it into the middle of his neck, right above his hairline. Another loud cry of pain burst from his lips, and the gun slipped from his hand. Fisting a chunk of his hair, she yanked him to the side and slammed her knee over his upturned wrist.

  “Em, move!” Alec demanded, reaching for the gun.

  She glared down at Oliver’s dazed expression. The red welt on his neck from the chain almost made her smile. How much strength would it take to choke the answers from him?

  Before she could try, Alec lifted her around the waist into a standing position. “We do this the right way.” He turned Oliver onto his stomach. Removing the belt from around his waist, he secured Oliver’s hands, tugged him into a standing position, and read him the Miranda rights.

  Alec was back in control, his monster shoved deep somewhere within him. Part of Emersyn ached to draw him back to the surface. Maybe she could confront him, proving to Alec he didn’t stand between them.

  Pipe dream.

  “Em, are you okay?”

  Lifting her chin, she got her first look at his bloody lip. “Well, shit. He slugged you.”

  Alec wiped the blood off his lip with the back of his knuckle. “This is your fault.”

  “My fault?”

  “When you struck Gates in the back of the neck, where did you think his jaw would land?”

  A smile erupted, and she couldn’t stop it from spreading. Alec’s wonderful hard glare was back.

  Oliver tried to jerk free of Alec’s hold. “Pearce, let me finish this thing once and for all. I’ll turn myself in when it’s done.”

  “Fuck no. Who ordered Joe’s hit?”

  “You’ll never get close to him.”

  “Give me a name.”

  “You might as well pull the damn trigger,” Oliver spat. “I’ll never give you what you want. My wife’s and daughters’ lives are at stake.”

  Emersyn hurled her fist into his jaw. The muscles in her arm quivered. “You weak bastard!” she roared as she landed another blow. “Because of you, I’ll never get to dance with Dad at my wedding.” The next hit was to his upper cheek. It hurt like hell, but she ignored it and slammed him again, this one planted at the corner of his lip. “You stole years from me! He’ll never meet my children, and they will never know him.” The throbbing in her fingers intensified, but she couldn’t stop. Until Alec pulled her off him.

  “Who killed my father?” She rushed him again, but Alec stumbled in front of her, his face filled with pain. Shit. He had been such a rock, she had forgotten about his injuries. She took in a steady breath and held out her hand. “I’ll hold the gun on him,” she said, placing a supportive arm around Alec’s waist.

  He dropped his free arm over her shoulder, and they headed toward the entrance, Alec still holding Oliver captive. The silent warehouse filled with the sounds of sirens racing toward them. Oliver locked his knees, jerking Alec backward.

  “You take me in, and my family is dead.”

  “I’ll send officers to your home and have them placed in protective custody,” Alec said, tugging on his arm.

  Oliver’s shoulders slumped as tears slid from his eyes, mixing with the sweat on his face. “They won’t make it to the highway. Do you think this prick is the only killer on the payroll? He has a fucking pack of wolves that will do anything he asks.”

  “Who is he?” Alec asked again. “You expect me to protect your family. Give me a name.”

  Oliver turned toward Emersyn, a broken man. “Joe’s death is on me. Don’t let my family pay for a mistake I should have taken care of years ago.” He nodded at the gun in her hand. “A life for a life. No one has to know. I tried to attack, and you fired.”

  The thought was damn tempting.

  “Your death is too easy. You get to sit in an eight-foot cell, powerless, for the rest of your miserable life, while the bastard you’re protecting lives free as a bird. I hope you choke on the pain and grieve for t
hose you lost.”

  “I’m going to tear your life wide apart, Gates,” Alec jumped in. “You messed up somewhere. Give me a name and spare your wife the interrogation I’ll put her through.”

  Again, Oliver fought against him. “And I’m telling you that you can’t do that. It will place everyone you care about in danger, and you won’t be able to protect them.”

  “Yeah? Watch me, and I’ll do it without selling my soul.” Alec found strength somewhere and dragged him toward the door just as Jared McNeil opened it.

  “Sorry, got here as fast as I could, but you seem to have things under control,” Jared said, scanning the warehouse. He gave Alec a once-over. “Can I take him from you?”

  “I got this.” Alec moved past him. Emersyn held Alec’s weight until he stepped across the threshold. The deserted parking lot was now filled with law enforcement vehicles, the headlights blinding Emersyn. She placed a hand over her eyes, helping her see clearly, and froze, her mind unable to absorb the number of weapons again pointing at her and Alec.

  “Damn it, stand down!” she snapped. “I’ve had enough guns pointed at me today to last several lifetimes.”

  “Em,” Alec whispered beside her ear. “Stop waving Joe’s Glock at them, and they will.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks as she handed the gun to Jared. Hot tears burned her throat. She returned her hold to around Alec’s waist. She loved the way he held his shoulders back, spine straight, as he kept a tight hold on Oliver even though the pain in his chest had to be unbearable. How she wished she could copy his form and make it hers. She was about to fall apart, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Em, it’s going to be okay,” he murmured.

  “Nothing has really changed, has it?”

  “We’re alive.”

  “Yes, but we still don’t know—”

  An earsplitting gunshot bounced off the warehouses, and Alec and Oliver collapsed. Emersyn landed hard, her chin hitting Alec’s left shoulder. Pain rippled up her jawbone as the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Chaos erupted around her.

  Every officer aimed at the rooftops around them, and men shouted orders she couldn’t comprehend. She tuned it all out and eased off Alec, who lay half on top of Oliver’s prone body. Neither man moved.

  There was only one shot.

  She pulled at Alec’s shoulder, and her hand came back covered in thick, sticky blood. The air emptied from her lungs. She eased him onto his back.

  Dear God. You can’t do this to me again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  One more deep breath, and Emersyn would pass out. Alec was alive. So why was her heart still racing?

  She tucked the thin hospital blanket under her chin and leaned her head against the back of the leather chair. The ER had only added to the evening’s nightmare. No one would tell her anything. Alec had been placed, unconscious, on a gurney, and the EMTs shut the door of the ambulance in her face. At least one nurse had taken pity on her and allowed her to sit with him after they got him settled in a room. The only other information the nurse had let slip was that Alec woke in the ambulance but the pain drugs and shock to his body would probably keep him asleep for hours.

  Emersyn didn’t dare move. This was the calmest she had ever seen Alec. It was his best look yet. If only she had the nerve to brush his hair off his forehead, just touch him in some small way.

  She pressed her fingers to her eyes and focused on the large window that spread across the back wall of the room. The sun had risen a few minutes ago, painting the sky with warm shades of pink and blue. It was beautiful, but it didn’t touch the turmoil swirling through her.

  Sleep would help, but Emersyn didn’t dare close her eyes again. When she’d tried earlier, she’d woken only minutes later, her breathing labored and her pulse coursing through her veins. The blast of the sniper’s rifle had roared in her ears as she swallowed the horrid taste of blood. Both senses were alive, real, but only to her.

  Alec was safe for now, her father’s killer in hell, and she’d kept her promise to her mother. What else could she ask?

  A clue as to what to do next would help. The warehouse had given them zilch. Oliver was dead, shot by another fucking sniper. A damn good shot at eight hundred yards. Dead men couldn’t name names.

  It would be hours before Angela processed the bullet fragment that killed Oliver and the weapons in the warehouse. But Emersyn could have written up the results from where she sat. One of the six rifles would be identified as the same rifle the bastard had fired through her family room. The only surprise would be who’d killed Oliver.

  The copycat sniper was Emersyn’s first guess. Oliver may not have ordered her father’s hit, but he did help pin it on the sniper. And then again, it could have been Shadow Man as the puppeteer who’d pulled Oliver’s strings for years.

  Emersyn’s experience in the warehouse proved that a person didn’t have to be looking through the scope of a rifle to kill someone. Whoever had a hold over Oliver killed the life out of him years ago. Angela’s results would answer very few questions.

  She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders and sank deeper into the leather cushion. “The bastard that killed Dad is dead. That’s justice, right?”

  Her heart should’ve hurt less, and there should’ve been a sense of relief. What scared her most was that the fight had drained out of her the instant she’d believed Alec had been shot. She had nothing else to give. Someone else would have to go through Oliver’s life and find all his filthy secrets.

  “Em?” Alec shifted in his bed.

  She reached for his hand. “I’m here.”

  The instant she touched his warm palm, a flash of insight blasted through her tired brain. The moments in the townhouse basement had slipped her mind completely. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten that part of the evening. Maybe it was her brain’s way of dealing with the trauma, tucking parts away so she could cope with the here and now. The best thing she could do for both of them was to go home. But that wasn’t happening either.

  He opened his eyes and met her stare. The familiar tension seeped into his shoulders, neck, and facial features like a well-worn T-shirt. He cleared his throat.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I really hate it when you say that. It’s a damn lie every time.”

  The room grew silent as she struggled for a response. One thing was clear: she wasn’t leaving him alone, defenseless. That had been everyone else’s pattern his whole life. She wasn’t like them.

  “I don’t know what to say to you,” he murmured. “There are no words—”

  “You don’t need to say anything. Just rest.”

  His eyes closed, and he released a heavy breath. She wasn’t ready to deal with any of it, even though her mind wouldn’t let go. Nothing had changed. Alec didn’t want her.

  • • •

  Alec hurt everywhere: his face, shoulders, chest—even the bottom of his feet burned. He shifted his head and bit back a groan. Emersyn’s beautiful hazel eyes made his heart skip. She brushed away tears on her cheeks. Tears he’d caused. And he’d fucked up what could have been the best night of his life. Had he moved toward his bedroom instead of the basement, he would have spent hours living his definition of heaven.

  “How’s the pain?” Her voice caught in her throat, and she dropped her gaze to her lap.

  “They gave me something before they cleaned and dressed my wounds that won’t interfere with the tests scheduled for this morning.”

  “I’m not family. No one would tell me anything.”

  “You are the only family I have.”

  “Your heart . . . The jolts of electricity . . . ”

  “Em, the tests are just a precaution.”

  She swallowed and shook her head. “What that bastard did to you . . . He took pleasure . . . ”

  He cradled her hand to his chest. “Don’t think about that now.” His eyes roamed the length of her. “Just t
ell me how you’re really doing.”

  “Not a scratch on me.”

  “Good, that’s damn good.”

  And another lie. The feisty, carefree joy he loved so much in Em was gone. Grief had drained it away after Joe’s death, but it had popped right back to the surface every time they’d come face to face lately. Not today. She was the furthest from fine he had ever seen her—broken, defeated. Again, his fault.

  “I thought your mom would have taken you home by now.” He scanned the doorway. “Where is she?”

  “My aunts drove her home an hour ago.”

  “And you didn’t go with them because . . . ”

  “You’re here.”

  Damn. The two words, the same from the warehouse, cut deep, making it hard to catch a breath. He’d begged her not to come, but that wasn’t his Em. She’d come and stood by him even as the hate in him boiled to the surface. Not once did she fear him. What in the hell had he ever done to deserve that kind of trust?

  The shooter was right about one thing. He was the biggest dumb shit who had ever walked the earth. Emersyn deserved better, but hell if he would let her go now.

  He scooted over in the bed. “Then lower the bed rail and slip in next to me. There’s plenty of room.”

  She didn’t move.

  He planted a smile on his lips. “Do I smell?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you there, and I’m all alone here?”

  She scanned the hallway. “That’s not a good plan.”

  “Give me one good reason.”

  “I’m sure the sea of nurses who have been in and out of here wouldn’t like it.”

  “Who cares what they like? Come here, Emersyn.”

  She lifted the blanket over her shoulders and eased in next to him. “Closer,” he said, drawing her body half over his and tucking her head against his shoulder. “Better. Much better.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”