Key Witness

by Christy Barritt

  Denton kept his hand on her knee and waited for her to continue, to get her emotions out. She closed her eyes, still wet with tears, and lowered her head. She used a rumpled tissue in her hands to dab her eyes again. Her strained gaze looked forward. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t apologize for being real.”

  She blinked and turned toward him. “What did you say?”

  “To not apologize for being real. I want you to be yourself around me.”

  She sucked in a breath before letting out a slow, half-hearted chuckle. “There’s only been one person in my life who’s ever encouraged me to be myself. My grandmother. Everyone else has always pushed me to be the person they want me to be. The cultured beauty queen, the poised politician’s daughter, the astute student. I’ve never felt like people want me to be who I am.” She reached forward and rested her hand on his cheek. Just feeling her touch caused lava to flow through him.

  “Thank you, Denton.”

  He shoved down the urge to pull her into his arms and drink in her scent. “I mean it, Elle. Don’t ever feel like you have to be someone you’re not when you’re around me.” He ran his thumb gently under her eye, wiping away the moisture there. “There is somewhere we can go to get you out of the house for a while.”

  “Where?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  Denton sensed her hesitation, sensed the way she had to process his question. “Yes, I trust you,” she finally said. Would she ever fully trust him with her heart, though?

  “Let me make a phone call, and then we’ll go. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  Elle had it bad. Denton was the kind of man she’d been dreaming about...well, forever. She could seriously get used to having him in her life, to looking into those warm brown eyes, to smelling his aftershave. She had to remember to use her head, to keep her eyes open for signs that Denton was like the rest of the men in her life.

  No, he was different. Or was he?

  She couldn’t be certain. Not yet. Could she ever be certain?

  Thirty minutes later, they drove down the road to a nearby beach called Sandbridge. Mostly locals knew of this beach, unlike the resort area, which was crowded with vacationers and high-rise hotels. “The beach?”

  “You mentioned once how much you enjoyed it.”

  Elle’s heart leaped in a way it shouldn’t—not if it wanted to stay safe. “That I did.”

  They followed the shoreline until they came to a stop at a large house located on the beachfront. “Yours?”

  “No way. I don’t get paid that well. It belongs to a guy I work with named Bradley Stone. He said we could use it.” He opened his door. “Wait there. I’ll come and get you.”

  She didn’t have a chance to argue as he hurried around the vehicle to her door. He helped her out, his gaze surveying the area. Apprehension immediately gripped her as she exited the vehicle. Had the madmen followed them? Was she putting others in danger?

  Denton’s hand went to her back and he led her up the external stairs to the second level of the home. He pulled out a key and quickly ushered her inside the lush beachfront home. Elle’s gaze scanned the place. “He must make some serious money at Eyes.”

  “He works developing new products that he sells to the military. He’s brilliant and tough.” Denton shrugged off his jacket, pulled away his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

  Elle had to look away before he caught her approving stare. “Sounds like it.”

  “This place is a favorite for company parties.” In two steps, he was at her side. Heat rushed through her. Why did the man have this effect on her? He seemed to sense Elle’s reaction and grinned. “Want to go outside for a minute?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  They sat on the deck overlooking the ocean for a moment, staring at the massive beauty around them. The day hovered around fifty-five degrees, not too cold, but not warm enough to go without a coat. Plus, the air was bound to be cooler with the breeze coming off the ocean. The salty air surrounded them as seagulls whined, looking for food. Elle spotted at least five of Denton’s men, each dressed casually for the occasion. But beneath their sunglasses, she knew they were watching carefully for something out of the ordinary.

  Agent Smith climbed the steps with a box in hand. “Delivery for one Mark Denton.”

  “Thanks, Smith.” Denton took the box from him, and familiar aromas began to tantalize Elle. When Denton opened the box, she saw her favorite pizza—basil, artichoke, pesto, mushrooms and fresh mozzarella.

  “You remembered?”

  He smiled. “Of course. Dig in.”

  “This was so incredibly sweet. Thank you.” Despite the craziness around them, Elle, just for a moment, enjoyed herself eating her favorite pizza in one of her favorite places. Her thoughts didn’t stay carefree for long, though. There was too much at stake to let down her guard and fully enjoy herself. “Brianna always hated this pizza, you know. When it came to pizza, she was totally traditional. I think that was one of the only areas of her life where she valued tradition, however.”

  “The two of you were opposites?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” It was hard to believe that they’d never have another argument over what to get on their pizza again. How could that chapter of her life have closed so swiftly and without warning? “My dad’s thinking about dropping out of the race.” Elle hadn’t intended on bringing it up, but the fact had popped out. Maybe thinking about her father’s career was better than dwelling on Brianna at the moment.

  Denton pulled up his head in surprise. “Really?”

  “I can’t believe it. I think he’s finally realizing that success can come at a price.”

  “And he’s realizing that family is invaluable?”

  “That’s how it seems.” She sucked in a deep breath, her thoughts as scattered as the seagulls up and down the shoreline. There was so much to process, to try to comprehend. Somehow being here at the beach with Denton and her favorite pizza soothed her spirit—temporarily, at least. “The ocean always helps to relax me somehow. When my problems seem big, I always look out at the water and think that the God who created that vast beauty is much bigger than anything this world deals me.”

  “The world’s been dealing you a lot lately.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes until dark clouds rolled in the distance and the breeze turned chilly. She rubbed her arms. “You mind if we head inside?”

  He grabbed the pizza box and ushered her through the patio doors. Elle stood at the window, watching the ocean, when Denton wrapped his arms around her from behind. She wanted to melt in his embrace, but she held back.

  “What are you afraid of, Elle?” He asked the question so softly that she almost thought she imagined it.

  Her throat constricted. “What do you mean?”

  He turned her around until she faced him. His face was only inches from hers, and each perfectly chiseled feature seemed to beckon her fingers to graze them. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, to forget her fears, her heartbreak. But she couldn’t.

  His warm eyes implored hers. “Why is it that every time we get close, you look like a scared rabbit ready to run?”

  She wanted to take a step back but couldn’t. Denton’s arms were wrapped firmly around her waist. She had no choice but to answer the question. She cleared her throat before meeting her gaze. “Relationships scare me. Forever scares me. Failing scares me. Of all the things I could fail at, marriage isn’t one I want to risk. I’m not as naive as I used to be.”

  Denton kept one arm at her waist but released the other hand to stroke her cheek. “He really broke your heart, didn’t he?”

  Her knees felt weak at his touch. “Broke my heart? Why do you think that?” Even as she said the words, she knew
the answer. She was just buying herself time to conjure up a response and to keep her composure.

  He shrugged. “A hunch.”

  “Preston liked to take risks, so I should have realized that would carry over into his relationships, too.”

  “Not every man is like him, you know.” Denton’s eyes caught hers. Those brown, beautiful eyes that always seemed to draw her in.

  She had to get a grip, to get back to reality. She tried to take a step back but, again, Denton held her, unwilling to let her brush off this conversation. “He was kind of like you. You live for risks, don’t you? It’s what makes you good at your job.”

  He leaned toward her. “I’m nothing like your ex-fiancé, Elle. When I see something good, I hold on to it.”

  Her cheeks flushed and, for a moment, she was speechless. She believed him. She really did. And that realization terrified her. “I know, Denton. My head knows, at least. My heart has a hard time keeping up.”

  “Your odds for staying married are better than a lot of the other odds you’ve faced. Getting into Yale...what are those odds? One in five hundred? Winning the title Miss Virginia?”

  “I grasp the odds. I realize the flaw in my thinking. It’s not my thinking that holds me back. It’s my heart that can’t be convinced.”

  “With time it will be.” His words sounded so confident. His eyes went to her lips. He traced their outline with his finger.

  She thought her emotions for Preston had been strong, but they were nothing compared to how she felt with Denton. Was it possible to feel swept away and grounded in the same moment? To feel blissfully respected and cared for and protected?

  She wasn’t sure who stepped closer or who initiated the kiss. She only knew that when Denton’s lips covered hers, time seemed to stop. When he drew her closer and the kiss deepened, her head spun and her heart danced.

  Could this really be the man she’d been waiting for, the man who would prove her fears unfounded?

  Was she brave enough to find out?

  She didn’t know.

  SEVENTEEN

  Elle and Denton arrived back at the house in time to see FBI agents clearing their command post. All of the investigations would be done from their office from here on out. They had a lead on the IT guy that they were investigating.

  While Denton disappeared into the library to handle a situation that had arisen at Eyes’s headquarters, Elle slipped into her office and spent the rest of the day researching nonprofits, writing mission statements and dreaming. She’d promised her grandmother that she wouldn’t let her fears hold her back. Was she willing to task a risk this big and start this nonprofit?

  If there was one thing she’d learned from the threats on her life, it was that life was short. It could end twenty years from now, or it could end tomorrow. No one, except God, knew the day or the hour. She’d had a moment of clarity at the bank as the gun was held to her head. Life was short. You had to make the most of every moment. By following everyone else’s plan for her life, she wasn’t living to the fullest extent. She had to make some changes.

  Starting with her career in politics.

  It wasn’t that she wished for her father to end his campaign run and his senate career—that was his decision and she’d support him either way. It was simply that she didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. She’d become jaded and burned-out. She wanted to pursue the things she loved. Life was too short not to.

  Somehow, being with Denton seemed to ignite something in her. It stirred up her fire for following her dreams.

  She smiled as she thought about their kiss earlier. It was perfect and sweet. Tender yet passionate. Denton was the kind of man who could easily sweep her off her feet.

  And that thought simultaneously thrilled and terrified her.

  Her phone beeped. She’d gotten a new phone after the FBI confiscated her old one. She should have given out the new number to members of the press, but instead she’d given them her office line. She didn’t feel like constantly being on call. She had other things to worry about...like staying alive. She turned on the screen and saw she had a new text message. She scrunched her eyebrows together at the unknown number.

  She clicked on the message and some pictures came on the screen. Too small to make out, she used her touch screen to enlarge the first one.

  She sucked in a breath.

  Denton.

  With another woman.

  Laughing together at Fred’s Seafood, the same place where he’d taken her.

  His forehead was bandaged, so these pictures had to be taken after the guardhouse explosion. Elle’s heart twisted in pain and regret. “No...” she whispered.

  She didn’t want to see the next picture, but she couldn’t stop herself. The image showed Denton walking outside of Fred’s with the same woman, hand in hand. The next picture showed them kissing against a car. The woman was super-model beautiful—long and lean with tresses of blond hair flowing down her back. Both glowed with obvious affection for each other.

  Tears rushed to her eyes. When Denton had slipped out yesterday and left her in someone else’s care, this is what he’d been doing? Then why in the world did he come back and kiss her? Was it just for the thrill of the hunt?

  She shook her head. Nothing made sense. Or did everything make sense? Had she fallen for the wrong man again? Were old habits hard to break?

  The most obvious answer was usually the correct one.

  And, in this case, it meant that, yes, she’d been taken for a fool...again.

  * * *

  Denton slipped his cell phone back into his pocket, glad to have some confusion at Eyes’s headquarters resolved. He wandered down the hallway, looking for Elle. He found her in her office, staring at her phone with a blank expression. She didn’t even look up when he walked in.

  “Did you get another message?”

  She continued looking straight ahead. “You could say that.” Her voice lacked emotion, and that scared Denton. What was going on?

  He pulled up a chair next to her and sat down. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  “You had me fooled.” Fire danced in her eyes.

  “What are you talking about?”

  She held up her cell phone. Denton’s eyes widened as he absorbed the images. Each shot felt like a blow to the heart. “Where did you get those?”

  “An innocent man would have denied the picture’s authenticity right away. I guess that answers my question.”

  He could hardly focus on what she said. “Where did someone get those pictures?”

  “You tell me. It looks like at Fred’s Seafood. Based on your injury, it was taken yesterday when you stepped out. Why’d you lead me on, Denton? I thought you were different.” Her voice cracked, the weight of her pain seeping into his heart. He had to ignore his own aching heart right now and think about Elle.

  His gaze transformed from somber to compassionate. “Elle, I can explain....”

  She stood and shook her head. “Save it. I’ve heard all the explanations before. Too many times, for that matter.”

  Denton grabbed her hand and pulled her back down into her chair. “No, really, Elle. These are pictures of me and...me and my wife.”

  Elle froze. Blinked. Shook her head. “You can’t even imagine the thoughts going through my mind right now.”

  “Elle, that’s Wendi. It was taken six years ago.”

  Elle said nothing as, most likely, she contemplated whether his words were the truth or the excuse of a man caught cheating. Her voice was even, steady, when she finally said, “The cut on your forehead. It’s the one you got a few days ago from the explosion. It’s in that picture, practically date-stamping it.”

  He pointed to the phone, at Wendi’s picture. “Elle, you’ve got to believe me. Someone tampered with th
is image. Look at it. You can tell in the picture that I’m younger. My hair’s a little different, even.”

  Elle swallowed, her fingers going to the necklace as they always did. “You’re saying that this computer genius tampered with photos he pulled off your computer? That it wasn’t enough to attempt to kill me, but now he’s got to mess with my heart, also?” Her already fragile, untrusting heart that was just looking for an excuse to stop trusting Denton, too.

  He tried to pull her into a hug, but she shook her head and stepped back. “You’ve got to have trust to have a relationship, Denton. I obviously don’t have that yet. I’ve been burned too many times.”

  “Elle—”

  “I just...I just need some time alone.” She nodded toward her cell. “You can see if the FBI can have the text traced. I’m sure they won’t be able to, but it can’t hurt to try. I...I need to lie down.”

  “Elle.” His hand reached for her shoulder.

  She brushed it off. “I’m sorry. I just...I just don’t know anything right now.”

  * * *

  Upstairs, Elle laid down on her bed, exhaustion weighing on her. Not only did her burdens feel physical and emotional, but now her heart had gotten involved on a romantic level—on what she’d thought to be a romantic level, at least. In the end, it was all heartbreak.

  She’d known that would be the outcome. Wasn’t it always? Denton had fit the personality profile perfectly. She’d foolishly thought he was different. But he wasn’t—was he? Or was this really about her trust issues with men? Would she ever get over these issues or would her fears ruin every future relationship?

  Something crinkled underneath her pillow. She sat up and reached for whatever it was. Her hand emerged with an envelope.

  Instantly, her guard went up. Carefully, she pulled open the seal and slipped out a folded piece of paper. Inside, a typewritten message waited.