Key Witness

by Christy Barritt

  Care about her in ways he shouldn’t. Losing his wife had made him feel like his heart had been ripped out. He wasn’t ready to love someone else again...or was he? Because Elle made his heart race like it hadn’t raced in a long time. She filled his thoughts and made him look forward to each time they interacted. And when she cried, there was nothing more that he wanted than to pull her into his arms.

  This wasn’t good. Wasn’t good at all.

  He glanced over at her and saw her reaching for the empty place at her throat where her necklace used to rest. That heirloom obviously meant a lot to her. “You doing okay?”

  She nodded, but she didn’t look okay. Her face was pale, her breathing heavy. “They’re recreating a kidnapping. What kind of sick people are we dealing with?”

  He rested his hand on her knee as they sped down the road. There was nothing he could say. They both understood the grave situation. Life hung in the balance. The two men had chosen to play God, to decide when someone’s final day would be. Nothing seemed to stop the madmen, and all of their leads so far had gotten them nowhere. With every breath, danger loomed closer. Safety seemed a distant memory. Denton didn’t remember feeling this level of uneasiness since his days in the Middle East as he faced insurgents who’d hated him simply because he was an American.

  “Turn here,” Elle directed. A few minutes later, they pulled to a stop at the edge of the woods. His cell phone rang as he put the SUV in Park. It was Elle’s father.

  “The police are on their way.”

  “Did they find anything from the cell phone trace?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Thanks for the update. We just arrived.”

  Elle jumped out of the vehicle, and Denton scrambled around to her side. His gaze scanned the area for any signs of danger. Nothing. Not visible to the eye, at least.

  “Come on.” She started toward the tree line.

  Denton grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Not so fast, Elle.”

  “It’s just right down that path.” She took another step toward the trees.

  “Elle, we need to wait for the FBI. We don’t know what’s waiting for us behind this parking lot.”

  “But what if Brianna...”

  “I know.” He pulled her into his arms, and she melted into his embrace. He held her until he heard the sound of tires against the gravel. Then he righted himself, jumping back into professional mode.

  Three police cars and an FBI sedan pulled to a stop. Once the team was assembled, Elle lead the officers down the path. Denton stayed at her side, his gaze roaming his surroundings for any sign of danger. Who knew what these guys were planning next?

  The trail continued, deeper and deeper into the woodsy swampland. Elle didn’t hesitate or cringe or show any fear. Her gaze only showed her determination and focus. The woman looked like she’d done this a million times before. Of course, she said she had been back here many times previous to today, all in honor of her sister. Denton could only imagine how painful those visits must have been, the memories that were sure to surface.

  And now Brianna... How much grief could one heart take?

  Finally, they stopped by a murky creek and followed the water along the banks. Their footing was rockier here as the trail gave away to the embankment.

  “Not much farther,” Elle called over her shoulder.

  “Elle,” Denton said.

  She slowed, but only for a second.

  “Let me go first.”

  “But—”

  “Elle, let me go first. Just in case.”

  “In case what—?” Realization spread over her face. She paused and allowed him in front of her. “It’s not much farther. Just a few feet.”

  He kept his gun raised, still unsure of what to expect.

  But something ahead looked out of place. It looked like a white sheet had washed up...with something underneath it.

  “Elle, wait here.”

  She halted, opened her mouth, but shut it just as quickly. Then she nodded.

  Denton stepped forward. “Guys, keep an eye on her.”

  Agent Duffield and two other agents joined him.

  They approached the sheet. Agent Duffield squatted down and moved the covering. Brianna’s lifeless face stared back at them.

  FIFTEEN

  Elle’s first impulse when they arrived back at the house was to shut down, to retreat to her room and mourn. The thought that she’d never see Brianna again, that they’d never be able to talk about men or fashion or lousy politics, seemed surreal.

  Tears flooded her eyes as she slipped into her office, asking Denton for a moment alone.

  How could someone be this cruel? Why so many innocent lives? And when would the insanity end?

  She’d held on to the hope that things would get better, that these men would give up or be arrested. But neither of those things had happened. Instead, the danger was escalating, and more and more people were becoming victims.

  Lord, why is this happening? Why would You allow such evil on earth?

  Every part of her wanted to curl into a ball and sob.

  But something clicked inside her.

  She wouldn’t let this stop her. She’d make sure Brianna’s death strengthened her resolve to put an end to this madness. She’d use the loss of her friend to fuel the fight. She’d make sure her tears weren’t wasted.

  Her father strode into the room, pulling her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  “I can’t believe she’s gone, Dad.”

  He stepped back, his expression more somber than she’d seen in a long time. Probably since Emily, for that matter. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around everything. These men are cruel.”

  “Beyond cruel.” She remembered her friend’s lifeless expression and a sob caught in her throat. All the resolve in the world wouldn’t lessen her pain, her loss. The FBI was informing Brianna’s family of the news now. Elle had wanted to go with them, but they refused—not as much out of policy as concern for her safety.

  “You ready for more bad news?”

  “Can it get worse?”

  “You should sit down.”

  Her father flipped on the TV. Bentley’s face flashed across the screen. He was doing a formal interview with one of the local news stations.

  Bentley’s face glistened with sweat, and Elle clearly recognized the look in his eyes. Eagerness for revenge.

  “The entire campaign is in disarray. People are snapping at each other, afraid to leave the house and even pointing fingers,” Bentley told the reporter.

  The reporter tilted her head. “You think the campaign is falling apart amid these threats and accusations?”

  “I’d definitely say that. How can Senator Philips even concentrate on doing his job as a senator when his house is constantly filled by federal agents? When women continue making allegations of inappropriate relationships?”

  “Do you think the senator was involved in the murder of his neighbor in northern Virginia?”

  “There are a lot of things he might be guilty of, but murder is not one of them.”

  At least he had enough scruples to say that.

  The blonde reporter leaned toward him, her eyebrows drawn together in serious curiosity. “Who seems to be the target of these threats?”

  “Senator Philips’s daughter, Elle. Almost all of the deeds done recently have somehow involved her.”

  Her father clicked off the TV. “It gets better. This is all making national news now.”

  “So much for keeping things under wraps.” She shook her head. “How could Bentley do this?”

  “Revenge. He’s conniving. I should have fired him years ago.” Her father took a step away. “I’m going to call my lawyer, see what can be done. Bentl
ey is not going to get away with any more mud slinging.”

  More people being hurt around her. When would it end? Probably not until the killers had Elle in their clutches. Wasn’t she the real target here?

  She knew how to put an end to all of this.

  Elle marched into the living room, which was filled with federal agents. They paused when she stormed into the room. When all of their eyes were on her, she put a hand to her hip, drew in a deep breath and said in an amazingly calm voice, “Why don’t you use me to draw these men out?”

  Denton popped up from the crowd and stepped toward her. “Bad idea. Worst idea I’ve heard in a long time, for that matter.”

  Agent Duffield reached Denton’s side. “I have to agree. You’re not a trained officer of the law. I don’t even want to think about how that could turn out.”

  “Do we have any other choice? These men are just going to keep on killing! They’re just going to keep on ruining people’s lives. We’ve got to stop them!”

  Denton’s hand rested on her arm. “We’ll figure out who they are. They’ll mess up and we’ll catch them. Getting yourself killed in the process won’t do anyone any good.”

  “I can’t keep on living like this. Something’s got to change. This has to end.”

  Agent Duffield nodded tightly. “I assure you, we’re working on this 24/7. This will end. We’ve got some good leads, many of them thanks to you. You are doing something. You’re helping us put these pieces together. Frankly, if this IT guy wasn’t so devious, we’d look into hiring him ourselves. Whoever this man is, he’s brilliant with a computer. He’s changed his identity, hacked into federal computers and seems to manipulate anything having to do with cyber-information as easily as most people can steer a car.”

  Denton cupped her elbow and led her from the room. They stopped in the hallway, out of earshot of anyone around. “You need to put that idea out of your mind. If you try to lure them out you’ll basically just be offering yourself as a sacrifice. There’s no guarantee they’ll stop killing.”

  “But...”

  “Listen, the FBI has flown their best men in for this. Everyone’s taking it seriously. We’ve got some deranged serial killers out there, terrorizing not only your family but this whole area. Media got word of what’s going on and terror is spreading like wildfire. Everyone thinks this is top priority. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, but—”

  He stepped closer and held up a finger to her lips. “No ‘buts,’ Elle. You’ve already done a tremendous amount to help, just like Agent Duffield said. Don’t be headstrong or foolhardy.”

  Foolhardy. She couldn’t deny the claim. Her emotions had her feeling impulsive.

  “This, too, will pass. It may not feel like it, but it will.”

  Elle nodded, a new sense of somberness weighing her down. “I’m going to let you work.”

  He squeezed her arm. “You okay?”

  “No, but I will be.” Even she wasn’t exactly sure what her words meant. But she knew the truth in them. Everything would work out. But just how many more lives would be lost before then?

  * * *

  Elle was crafting a terse press release—one that she would never send out, but that served to release some of her emotions—when Denton walked into the room with a tall blond man she’d never seen before. Elle paused at her desk, wondering what was going on. She slipped off her reading glasses and stood, straightening her rumpled black pants and button-up shirt.

  Denton stepped forward. “Elle, I’ve got to go somewhere for a few hours, so I’m leaving my associate, Brandon Smith, here until I get back.”

  Tension squeezed her chest, and she lowered herself back into her chair. “Where are you going?”

  Denton’s warm gaze fell on her, but he didn’t lose his professional astuteness. “I have something I need to do. You can’t come with me, and I refuse to leave you alone.”

  “But—” She started to stand when Denton gently nudged her back into her seat.

  “Elle, the FBI is following a lead right now. I’m hoping all of this will be over soon. Until then, you’ve got to stay put. Promise me you’ll stay here.”

  Almost over? Could that possibly be true? She slumped in the chair. “Of course I’ll stay here. I’ve got lots of damage control to do, anyway.”

  “Smith will take good care of you until I get back.”

  Elle glanced at the man from the corner of her eye. Tall, built like a soldier with a buzz cut popular among military men. Finally, she nodded. “Be safe.”

  Denton’s gaze remained on her a moment too long. “I will. We’ll talk when I get back.”

  After Denton left, Elle pointed toward a couch against the wall and said to Smith, “Feel free to have a seat. I’m just going to be right here working on some computer stuff for a while.”

  “I’ll stand.” He took a place against the wall, reminding Elle a bit of the guards outside Buckingham Place in London.

  She tried to focus on the press release, tried to find a way to spin Bentley’s words so that her father’s campaign wouldn’t blow up. The truth was she didn’t care about the campaign anymore. Her friend was dead. Other innocent people had died.

  And she’d never really cared about politics anyway.

  She leaned back in her seat for a moment. What would her life be like if she quit politics once this election was over? If she did something that truly ignited the passion inside her? What if she actually started that nonprofit she’d thought about?

  Elle would be able to help people during the agonizing time while a loved one was missing. She had the whole foundation planned out in her mind. She’d have counselors on hand if they wanted to talk, cooks to provide meals, and herself and others like her to offer wisdom as people who’d been in their shoes before. They could have a hotline number so if they ever needed to talk, someone would be there for them.

  Elle wished she had something like that now as she mourned the death of her dear friend. It still didn’t seem real that Brianna could be gone. She half expected when she woke up to find this was a nightmare.

  Her heart panged with grief. What would she do without her friend? Without someone to share her secrets and her fears? And how could life ever resume to normal without Brianna there to make things more interesting?

  Emily. Elle had felt the same way after Emily had died. She knew that life took on a new normal, a normal without your loved one there.

  How people could take the lives of innocent people still perplexed and angered her.

  And where did Denton have to rush off to? Was he with the FBI following their lead? She doubted it. He’d said earlier that his job was to keep an eye on her. So what was so important that he was leaving all of a sudden?

  She glanced back at her temporary bodyguard before standing and stretching. She’d go check on her mom and dad—do something to keep her mind off the matters at hand. She breezed out of the room, noticing that Agent Smith shadowed her, as he was supposed to do.

  She missed Denton. She’d gotten used to his presence and his companionship. Soon—she hoped—these killers would be behind bars, and Denton would be out of her life. Why did her heart sink at the thought? Denton was her bodyguard, nothing more. She shouldn’t feel attached to him.

  He was a risk-taker.

  She felt the need to constantly remind herself of that fact. Even if circumstances were different—if he wasn’t someone simply hired to be around her—a relationship between them would be impossible. He wasn’t her type.

  She’d say he wasn’t the marrying type, but he’d proved her wrong there.

  Could a man who lived for adventure actually be content being with one woman for the rest of his life? She wasn’t sure. A month ago she would have said no.

  She detoured by her father’s office to grab
some papers she’d left in there. A piece of trash on the floor caught her eyes. She picked it up, ready to toss it in the garbage when her eyes grazed the words. A receipt from a restaurant in D.C. Two dinners.

  She started to crumble it when the date caught her eye. She blinked, unsure if she’d read it correctly. Sure enough, the receipt was dated for a time when her father had assured her he wasn’t up in D.C.—around the time when Nancy Green had been killed.

  Could her father have something to do with all of this? No. She shook her head. The thought was crazy.

  But why would he lie?

  She stuck the paper into her pocket and walked toward the kitchen, each step feeling like a lead weight was attached to her feet.

  She stopped cold in the entryway to the kitchen. In the distance—through the kitchen and into the sunroom—she spotted her mom and dad sitting together on the couch, talking and laughing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the two of them look so normal and relaxed together. Usually they were both going in different directions, acting like roommates more than husband and wife.

  She approached them and lowered herself into a seat across from them. Their faces were practically beaming as their laughter died and they looked her way.

  “Hello, darling.” Her mom’s expression turned somber and compassionate. “How are you holding up today?”

  Elle shrugged. “I’m hanging in.” Her gaze fell on the space between her parents, and she saw their fingers intertwined.

  “There’s something I—we—need to tell you, Elle.” Her father leaned forward. Lines formed on his forehead and wrinkles branched out from the corners of his eyes. “Elle, I’m considering dropping out of the race for reelection.”

  She blinked several times, not sure if she’d heard him correctly. “Really? You love politics. This is what you’ve wanted for—for your whole life, it seems.”

  His lips pulled into a tight line. “Nothing definite. But I’m seriously considering it. The toll all this has put on the family feels unbearable.” He glanced at her mom. “And your mom and I can’t stop thinking about—what if that had been you out in the woods instead of Brianna?” He shook his head, his eyelids heavy. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another daughter, Elle.