“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
She let the board hit the concrete, then put one foot on it and looked over her shoulder, right before she kicked. “Thanks anyway, kid.”
“Taylor Sly!” he called.
She slammed her back foot down, bringing the board to a stop, popping it up, and whipping around. “What?”
“You heard me. Tomorrow night.” He bolted for the cab, because one more minute and she’d get the whole story out of him. At the taxi, he yanked open the back door and stole a glance at her. She was still standing there, staring at him.
He climbed in and slammed the door shut. “Chestnut Hill.” The driver flipped on the meter and pulled out toward Huntington, and Teddy resisted the urge to turn around and take one more look at her.
But the driver tapped the brakes and glanced into the rearview mirror. “Uh, sir, looks like someone wants to share this cab with you.”
A slow smile stretched over his face. Bingo. But he refused to give her the satisfaction of letting her see him turn around in anticipation. That wouldn’t be cool. “Fine. You can stop and let her in.”
The door opened and Teddy looked up, expecting the dancing brown eyes, but seeing a man’s face instead.
He opened his mouth to protest, but the guy was already in the seat, a gun pointed directly at Teddy’s gut.
“Get on 93 south,” the man said to the driver.
The driver looked confused, frowning at Teddy for permission, obviously unaware of the gun.
“It’s okay,” he said slowly.
“What did you just tell her?”
All Teddy could see in the shadows were icy-cold eyes. “Nothing. I didn’t tell her a thing.”
“It didn’t sound like nothing. It sounded like you saw something you shouldn’t have.”
“I made it up, man. I thought she’d, you know, be impressed.”
“Did you now.”
It wasn’t a question. Was this the guy he saw in the basement? The one who’d talked to that model chick in the hallway where the bathrooms were? He couldn’t remember. That was the truth. He’d barely noticed the guy, and it wasn’t until all hell broke loose a few minutes later that he even put two and two together and remembered the dark-haired guy who shot out of the basement and practically knocked Teddy down while he was smoking.
“What exactly did you see that night, Teddy?”
His bowels turned to water as the driver rolled toward the Southeast Expressway. Where the hell could they be going?
“Nothing. I swear, nothing.” A cold sweat formed on his forehead. The guy didn’t move. He was like a freaking statue, holding that gun. They were on the expressway, and each mile and minute Teddy got more scared. “Where are we going?”
“To see some friends.”
That didn’t sound good. More miles, more minutes. More sweat. Nobody said a thing.
“Get off here,” he said to the driver.
Teddy looked at the exit. Holy crap, this was the worst of South Dorchester. Was this guy going to leave him here? He’d be dead in an hour.
“Right here’s fine,” the man said to the driver.
It was an underpass from the expressway, a hole of darkness and shadow. “Here?” the driver asked, looking around nervously.
“Pay him,” the guy said, using the gun as a pointer. “Now.”
Shaking, Teddy reached into his pocket and tried to grab just the top bill, but the whole roll of cash came out, fluttering in his shaking hands. He stuffed whatever the top bill was through the little hole in the plastic glass.
“Give me the rest.”
He handed the cash over. “Listen. Please… don’t leave me here, man. This is a bad part of town.”
“Very bad.” He stuck the gun in his side and Teddy braced for death. “Get out.”
He did, half amazed that the guy followed him. The second he closed the back door, the cab peeled out. What the fuck?
Something moved in the shadows. A footstep scuffed. Another. Every hair on the back of Teddy’s head stood up as men stepped out of every dark corner. Two, three, four of the them, surrounding him.
“Please…” His voice cracked. “You have all my money.”
“There’s a price for seeing what you shouldn’t have seen, Teddy. You’re about to pay it.” The man held out the cash to one of the others. “Roll him.” Then he walked away to a black SUV parked a few feet away. He opened the back door and threw one last look at Teddy, then disappeared.
As the circle formed around him and closed in, Teddy started to cry.
CHAPTER 5
Zach went ice cold at the sound of Sam’s muffled cry. He couldn’t see her. But nothing was wrong with his hearing, and that sound was a body hitting the ground.
He vaulted out of his hiding place next to the building and raced across the street to the break in the trees.
“Help!”
A thud of fist against flesh was the only answer to her call, enough to guide him to the path. All he could see was a dark figure, on Sam’s back, holding her head and saying something in her ear.
Rage rocked him as he dove forward with a grunt, punching the guy’s head and rolling him off her.
“Run, Sam!” he ordered, already pouncing for his next attack. The guy was fast, rolling and jumping to his feet, a ski mask covering his face. Zach threw a kick at his stomach that doubled the man over, so Zach could slam a knee into his nose and take another swing at the side of his head.
That was enough to make the man stumble down the hill, almost to his knees. Zach stole a glance over his shoulder where Sam stood, watching in horror.
“Go!” he told her. “Run.”
“He… he…” She pointed at the man. “Get him. Zach, we have to stop him!”
But her assailant had found his footing and ran like the wind, already in the supermarket parking lot.
“Go get him!” she insisted, running toward Zach and pushing him out of the way.
“Are you fucking nuts?” He grabbed her shoulder and held her, stunned by the stupidity of the request and the power of her determination. “Let him go!”
She shook her head, her eyes wild. “It was him!” she exclaimed. “It was…” She watched him disappear across the lot, behind a ten-story apartment building.
“Who?” Zach demanded, still clutching her. “You knew that guy?”
“He knew me.” Her words were raspy with defeat. “He knew me.” No, not defeat. That was stone-cold fear that quivered in her voice. It matched the look in her eyes when she finally dragged her gaze from the parking lot to Zach. “He found me.”
His instinct had been right. Sam’s trouble was no ordinary fight-with-a-boyfriend kind of thing. That sixth sense that she was in serious danger had been the only reason he’d sneaked out the back of the building and down the side street to make sure she got into a cab. The only reason he’d gone after her when everything else in him said let her go.
“Thank Christ I followed you.”
“Yeah, but you let him get away.”
He snorted out a disgusted breath. “Hey, yeah, you’re welcome.”
“And the cops.” She looked in the direction the cruiser had gone. “They were just here.”
“And they were a really big help.”
Her shoulders sank. “They never are when I’m involved.”
“What exactly are you involved in, Sam?”
She took a breath, that juicy lower lip sucked into her teeth, almost distracting him from the raw pain in her eyes. “Murder.”
For a second, he didn’t breathe. “What?”
“You heard me.” She pushed past him, back to the street. “I’m going to have to stay here tonight. Believe me, I don’t want to.”
“And I don’t want you to.”
“Got that, Zach. Loud and clear.”
He ignored the comment, but put a hand on her back, looking up and down the street for any sign of trouble as they crossed. “You better be prepared to explain.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
He practically kicked the glass door in, but managed to turn the key and usher her back into the building. “I just saved your ass. You owe me an explanation.”
She marched toward the stairs, shoulders square, head up, looking left and right at each door they passed as if her attacker might jump out at any minute.
She brushed her hair back, but missed a leaf sticking out of the side. For some reason, that leaf just got him. She could have been killed. If some goddamn intuition hadn’t sent him out there…
He plucked the leaf, making her jerk when he got close.
“You wanna keep this as a souvenir?”
She snapped it from his hand and whipped it to the floor, silent. She stayed that way until they were back in Vivi’s apartment, not relaxing until he’d double-locked the door. Then, in the living room, she dropped into the chair, the adrenaline dump almost visible.
Vivi’s phone sat blinking on the table next to his nearly untouched beer, a stark reminder that he didn’t know where his sister was at damn near two in the morning, but wherever she was, she was as vulnerable as Sam.
He took the sofa across from her. “Start at the beginning, Sam.”
She looked up at him, her face pale and drawn. “I witnessed a murder a week ago.”
“That Sterling guy?”
She nodded, her lip hidden under her front tooth, turning white from the pressure of her bite.
“How the hell did you witness that?”
“How did you put it? Wrong place, wrong time.”
His scar twinged at the reminder, burning as it always did, but before he responded, her eyes lit up. “I know that guy out there had a mask on, Zach, but did you see his eyes? Did you see what color they were?”
“No. I wasn’t looking at his eyes. I was trying to kick the shit out of him and get him off you.”
Her expression softened for one quick second. “And I appreciate that, but…”
“But you wanted me to cuff him and bring him in for questioning.”
“Yeah, actually. That’s exactly what I wanted.”
So he’d saved her life, ostensibly, but fucked up. “I had no idea he was anything but a common mugger, rapist, or killer. My usual course of action is to protect the victim.”
She nodded. “I know. If I had told you—”
“But you took off before we talked about anything of substance.” And he hadn’t exactly begged her to stay. Because ten more minutes with Sam, and he’d be hard, hot, and hungry for another taste. No way, not again. He wasn’t putting either of them through that again.
“What were you doing there, anyway?” he asked. “Having dinner at that restaurant, Paupiette’s?”
She gave him a funny look. “I work there.”
She did? “Oh, Vivi didn’t…” Of course not. The subject of Sam was off-limits. He shrugged as if her employment meant absolutely nothing to him, even though it begged a million questions. “The police are saying that was a professional hit. What happened?”
“Oh, he was no amateur,” she agreed. “And he has my picture.”
“What?”
“My face was caught on the security camera that was in the wine cellar. It was pointed right at me as I stood up and saw him pull the trigger. He dismantled and took the camera that was aimed directly at me. And obviously…” She glanced in the general direction of the street. “He’s following me.”
“He didn’t follow you up here, so relax. And, Sam, hasn’t anyone told you that’s not how security cameras work? You have nothing to worry about. A closed-circuit TV is just a camera lens, no video or film. If someone has your picture, it’s whoever monitors the restaurant security. I’m sure the cops have that tape as evidence.”
“Well, you’re wrong, and yes, the police originally thought that, too. But it wasn’t that kind of camera. It was, like, a video cam, only there to stop employees from walking off with a thousand-dollar bottle of wine. It’s been in there forever. I didn’t think it even worked anymore, but right when I was going downstairs, the sommelier said he’d just put a tape in it. The killer took the whole camera.”
“I take it the police know all this.”
“I’ve told them everything.” She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “Not that it matters, but I’ve tried to cooperate. Now I’ll have to tell them that he’s found me. Which will mean nothing.”
“They’ll give you round-the-clock protection.”
“In your dreams,” she said bitterly. “They’d give you round-the-clock protection. They’d give that cat round-the-clock protection. Me? They escort me to and from interviews and give me vile looks of hatred.”
“Why?”
She just shook her head, then sat forward, reaching toward the beer. “May I?”
“Help yourself. It’s flat and warm.”
She put it to her lips. “Just the way I like it.” He let her take a drink, ignoring the little blast of heat when she put her mouth where his had been.
Vivi’s phone vibrated with a call, dousing his personal fire and reminding him of his missing sister.
“How much does she know?” he demanded, flicking his gaze to the phone.
“That’s why I’m here. To find that out.”
“Jesus.” He grabbed the phone, realization dawning. “She’s covering this story. Does she know you’re a witness? Does this guy—”
She waved her hand to stop the questions. “No one knows anything. They haven’t even announced there was an eyewitness. The only person, other than the police, who knows what I saw is… him.” She closed her eyes. “The man who just attacked me.”
“Are you sure it was him?” he asked. “A woman was raped behind that Star Market three months ago. He might have just been—”
“He knew me. He said my…” She frowned, thinking. “Did he say my name? No, he said, ‘Pretty far from home, aren’t you?’ But did he say my name?” She gave the armrest a frustrated tap. “Damn it, why can’t I remember? No wonder the police don’t trust my judgment. I don’t trust my damn judgment.”
“Because you can’t remember what the guy said when he jumped you?” He was already scrolling through Vivi’s incoming calls, clicking on her calendar. “Nine out of ten people couldn’t, Sam. The adrenaline rush shuts down brain cells and you go into survival mode. That’s why witnesses in criminal cases are unreliable.”
“Trust me, Zach, I know.”
His attention was on the phone. “If Vivi’s not back in five minutes, I’m going out to look for her.”
“Where?”
“Her phone memo said 328 St. Botolph Street. Mean anything to you?”
“Yes,” she said with a soft choke. “That’s Paupiette’s. Where I work. Well, worked.”
He started stabbing in an email to her other address, on the off chance she was sitting in some twenty-four-hour Starbucks with her laptop open. Where are you? Get home or call. He almost hit Send, then added NOW.
He tossed the phone on the table. “Why the hell don’t they have you in protective custody if you witnessed a murder and the killer knows who you are?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have time.” Five minutes, anyway. He glared at the phone, willing it to buzz with a return email.
“Do you happen to remember me telling you that I once put a man in jail?”
Did she even have to ask? Of course he remembered. “I remember that something happened when you were a teenager. You saw a shooting in a convenience store.”
“Right. When I was sixteen, almost seventeen, I witnessed some guy kill a clerk. I saw the whole thing from the back of the store, got a good look at the killer.” She shook her head. “At least I thought I did. It was my eyewitness testimony that convicted him.”
“Hard to believe that would happen twice in a lifetime,” he said.
“Especially when the first time I was wrong.”
“What?”
“The r
eal killer came forth just a few months after you left. He had some kind of life-changing religious epiphany and confessed to the crime. DNA testing proved his confession was valid, and Billy Shawkins, the man I helped convict, was guilty of nothing but…” She added a wry smile. “Wrong place, wrong time. And he’d been on the cops’ radar for some petty crimes in the neighborhood. They wanted him convicted and my testimony sealed the deal.”
“He’s out now?”
“Yeah, he is. But when I found out, I just…” She shook her head. “It was really hard knowing I put an innocent man in jail. It rattled me, down to the bone. Everything I thought about myself, about always being right? Now I’m never sure if I’m even in the ballpark of right.”
That would be a change in her personality; she’d been confident to the point of cocky when they first met. But this girl in front of him? Not so much. “So, what did you do? Anything to help him?”
“You bet I did. I found out about this organization that does nothing but help people like Billy, called the Innocence Mission. I worked with them, and…” She let out a sigh. “I basically turned my life upside down, quit my job in advertising so I could spend all my time helping this brilliant pro bono attorney get Billy Shawkins exonerated. And we did.” She smiled, but her eyes were sad. “Billy’s a free man today.”
He studied her, putting it all together. “Just because you made a mistake doesn’t mean the cops shouldn’t protect you if you happen to have the misfortune of seeing another person murdered.” Shouldn’t being the operative word when dealing with law enforcement.
“Except that in the process of getting Billy exonerated, I opened up a can of Boston Police Department worms. There was an investigation, and two cops lost their badges because of how they handled evidence, specifically my statements and ID of the suspect. The repercussions went through the whole department. I am not a well-loved citizen at the Boston PD.”
Now that made complete sense. He knew from his cousins, one a cop, one a former FBI agent, they were as tight as the men in his platoon.
“So you quit your job in advertising for this whole Shawkins thing and work as a waitress now?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “This ‘whole Shawkins thing’ was my entire life for the past few years.” Was that a note of indictment in her voice? What was the subtext? If you cared, you’d have known that. He just rubbed the cat and gave her a little nod.
Edge of Sight Page 5
