Witness Pursuit

by Hope White

  “Cassie?” Madeline pressed.

  “I’m fine,” she said, closing her eyes.

  “You’re not fine. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Nothing to talk about.”

  “Finding a dead body—”

  Cassie’s eyes popped open. “So she was dead?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  Cassie shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.” Madeline patted Cassie’s shoulder.

  It was just the beginning, Cassie thought, the beginning of her family and friends smothering her until she could no longer breathe.

  God, please help me cope.

  She suspected all the prayer in the world wouldn’t change the way people looked at her: like a fragile doll, a sick little girl who could barely manage on her own. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore, and she’d outgrown her illness, although the technical term was remission.

  That fact wouldn’t change the way people treated her. She decided to take the offensive.

  “Have you assessed my injuries?” she asked her cousin.

  “Your arm will need a few stiches, and the ER doc will probably order a CT scan of your head.”

  “I didn’t hit my head.”

  “You might not remember hitting your head, but you’re exhibiting symptoms of head trauma.”

  “Like what?”

  “Obsessing over a random dog.”

  “An orphaned dog.”

  “And you’re anxious.”

  “Rocky’s driving too fast.”

  Madeline shook her head and bit back a smile. “Rocky, this is base, over,” a voice said over the radio.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Chief Walsh has the dog, over.”

  “You hear that, Cassie?” Rocky said over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Okay?” Madeline said.

  Cassie nodded and closed her eyes, wanting to avoid arguing with her cousin. She’d save her energy because she knew there’d be more discussion, more arguments about her choices today as she defended herself to her mother, older brother, sister and whoever else jumped on the “help Cassie” bandwagon.

  She thought about her bank account, now up to two thousand dollars and change. It wasn’t enough to support herself for six months to a year overseas, even if she stayed in hostels. After tonight’s fiasco, she might lose the awesome-paying property manager job. At the very least, her family would forbid her from going anywhere by herself for a while.

  They reached the hospital, and Rocky and Madeline wheeled Cassie inside. Once transferred to an ER bed, Madeline slid the curtain closed.

  “The doctor will be here shortly. I think Dr. Rush is on duty. You’ll like her,” Madeline said.

  “I need to speak with Chief Walsh.”

  “Oh yeah?” Maddie said with a raised eyebrow.

  “Stop fooling around. It’s important.”

  “I think he’s at the cabin managing the investigation into the woman’s death.”

  “Oh, right.” Cassie wanted to call and give him a description of Shovel Man. She reached into her pocket. “Where’s my phone? Can you check the ambulance?”

  “Sure, if you promise to stay here and wait for the doctor.”

  “As opposed to going dancing?”

  “See? Sarcastic. That’s not like you, which is why I suspect a head injury. So relax. I’ll be right back.”

  Cassie laid her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. She knew she didn’t have a serious head injury, and was upset that her cousin wasn’t listening to her. Cassie needed to call Chief Walsh and describe the man who’d stalked her. She could still picture those heavy eyebrows and thin lips. He reminded her of Mr. Gruner, a curmudgeon who used to yell at Cassie and her friends whenever they’d pass by his boat at the Emerald Lake Pier. They were terrified of him, until the day he saved Izzy Bingham. No one knew Izzy couldn’t swim. After the save, the kids had changed their opinions of Mr. Gruner. He was just lonely, not mean.

  She had a feeling Shovel Man didn’t fall into that same category.

  A shiver snaked down her arms. She slipped into her jacket to get warm. The more agitated she appeared, the more her family would close ranks and suffocate her. She had to show them she was strong, healthy and capable, that she wasn’t that sick little girl anymore.

  The curtain slid open.

  “Did you find it?” she said, assuming it was Madeline.

  “I’m here to take you for a CT scan,” a male voice said.

  “Oh, okay.”

  She opened her eyes, but he stood behind her as he pushed her bed out of the examining area.

  “I was hoping you were my cousin with my phone,” she said.

  “Nope, sorry.”

  “How long does a CT scan take?”

  “Not long.”

  She knew they wouldn’t find anything, but she couldn’t fault the doctor for being cautious. They entered the elevator, and he pressed the button for the bottom floor.

  “How did you get injured?” he said.

  She glanced at the orderly, who wore a surgical mask. A surgical mask?

  “I’ve got a cold,” he said in explanation.

  Yet even behind the mask she recognized the thick eyebrows of the man who’d been carrying the shovel.

  The elevator doors closed.

  THREE

  Cassie was alone with the killer.

  A ball of fear rose in her chest.

  No, she wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

  She had nothing with which to defend herself, nor did she have her phone to call for help. But she was a smart woman and would use her best weapons: her wits and her words.

  She took a quick breath for strength. Wait, she remembered she had her emergency house keys in her side pocket. Locking herself out last month had become a blessing after all. She launched into chatter mode to distract him.

  “I can’t believe they want a CT scan,” she started. “I told them I didn’t hit my head. I can see just fine and I know my own name.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I’m a klutz. I fell off a trail. Can you believe that?” She deftly reached into her jacket to palm the keys. “I mean, I’ve lived here forever and Dad used to take us hiking, and you’d think I’d be an expert with all my experience, but I wasn’t paying attention and went over the side of the mountain. Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?”

  “Why weren’t you paying attention?” he asked.

  She slipped the keys between her fingers, thinking she could jab him in the eye if necessary. “I was scared,” she said.

  “Of what?”

  “I’d found an unconscious woman at a rental house and there was all this blood.” She shuddered.

  “Was she dead?”

  “I have no idea, but me and blood? Not a good mix. Last year my brother was attacked by a guy with a knife and there was blood everywhere, all over the kitchen, and I completely freaked out. I guess that’s what happened today. I took off and lost my footing and fell off the trail. Quite embarrassing if you think about it.”

  She hoped she could convince him she hadn’t seen his face at the cabin. She certainly didn’t want to get into hand-to-key combat.

  She clutched the keys tighter. “Have you ever done anything dumb? It would make me feel a whole lot better if you had.”

  “Nothing comes to mind.”

  The doors opened and he wheeled her out of the elevator. Jumping off and running didn’t seem like the best plan, since he was much taller than Cassie and therefore a lot faster. She strategized her next move as she chatted away.

  “I’m going to get a huge lecture from my family, but
what else is new?” she said, laying it on thick. “I’m the flaky one. This won’t surprise them one bit. The woman probably fell and hit her head, yet I freaked and tore off like a scared cat. Oh well, at least I wasn’t totally irresponsible, because I called 911 for help.”

  She pretended to be relaxed, not easy considering Shovel Man’s hands were pushing her from behind—hands of a killer hovering dangerously close to her throat.

  Dear Lord, give me wisdom and courage to know how to convince this man he does not have to take another life.

  My life.

  That’s when she spotted a fire alarm on the wall. Perfect.

  She suddenly sat up and sniffed. “Wait, do you smell that?”

  “What?”

  “I smell smoke!” She hopped off the bed and yanked the alarm.

  She took off running and glanced over her shoulder. Shovel Man stood there with a quizzical frown.

  “Hurry!” she shouted. She had to keep up the pretense that she thought he was an orderly, not a killer.

  Staff rushed out of rooms and flooded the hallway, puzzling over the alarm. Shovel Man was no doubt puzzled, as well. But at least she was away from him.

  She shot another quick glance behind her.

  He’d disappeared.

  Relief settled in her chest, but only for a second. If he could disappear that quickly, he could reappear just as fast. Or worse, what if he was working with a partner who was waiting outside in a car to whisk Cassie away? Shovel Man could have given his partner Cassie’s description: short with blond hair, wearing a bright blue jacket.

  As she marched toward the exit, she shucked her jacket, wincing in pain from her injured arm.

  Once outside, she tossed the jacket onto a bench and practically sprinted into the parking lot.

  But where should she go? She didn’t know which of these strangers she could trust, and didn’t have her phone to call for help.

  Across the parking lot she spotted the one place she knew she’d be safe, Nate’s truck. Which meant he had to be close. Scanning the parking lot, she didn’t see Nate, only frantic employees and patients being herded out of the north side of the building.

  Feeling badly about causing the commotion, she waved down an orderly who was arriving for work. “It’s a false alarm. I pulled it because someone’s after me. Tell them they don’t have to evacuate the building!”

  She ran off, hoping he’d relay the message before too many patients were inconvenienced. Head down, she motored toward Nate’s truck and tried the door, but it was locked. She climbed into the flatbed. It seemed like the best place to hide.

  Truth was, she felt safe because it was Nate’s truck. Eventually he’d have to return to it, and he’d find her.

  The reality of what just happened shot a chill down her spine: Cassie had faced off with a suspected killer. Her hands started trembling, then her arms and legs. She gasped for breath, determined to stay conscious.

  * * *

  Nate shoved down the panic threatening to pull him off course.

  Cassie was missing.

  He clenched his jaw and retraced her steps through the hospital, hoping to find a clue as to where she’d gone.

  Hoping to find her safe and sound in a hospital room.

  Instead, it was like she’d vanished in the mist.

  The hospital alarm suddenly clicked off. Through the ominous silence, his fear grew louder, more insistent: She’s been taken against her will. She’s been killed and her body will be found in a laundry bin.

  He had to stop these torturous thoughts and think like a detective–turned–chief of police.

  “Why’d the alarm go off?” he asked into his radio.

  “I’m checking, sir.”

  Nate had locked down the cabin crime scene, called the lab tech and brought Officer Ryan McBride to the hospital to get checked out. He’d been assaulted and suffered a head wound. Nate assumed from the guy who shoved him off the trail.

  Anyone could have driven McBride into town, but Nate wanted to check on Cassie.

  “Apparently it was a false alarm, over,” Red called through the radio.

  “How do you know that?” Nate asked.

  “A staff member encountered the woman who pulled the alarm.”

  “Why would she—” Instinct struck him square in the chest. “What did this woman look like?”

  “Blond, short, twenties.”

  “Where did he see her?”

  “Back entrance, heading into the parking lot.”

  Nate rushed to the exit, wondering if Cassie had pulled the alarm because she’d been in trouble.

  “Should we continue checking the lower level?” Red asked.

  “No, meet me in the back parking lot. And bring the employee who spoke with her.”

  “Copy that.”

  Nate jogged outside, navigating the sea of staff members headed back into the hospital. What made Cassie pull the alarm?

  He scanned the parking lot for her wavy blond hair. Had she changed into a hospital gown, or was she still wearing her electric blue jacket? That would make her easy to spot.

  Out of the corner of his eye, a pop of blue caught his attention. He went to a nearby bench and picked up Cassie’s jacket.

  “Chief?”

  Nate glanced to his left. Red and an orderly approached.

  “This is Kevin Wright, the man who spoke with the woman who pulled the alarm,” Red introduced.

  Nate pulled out his phone and found a picture of Cassie and Aiden taken at the Christmas Lights Festival last year. He flashed the image at the orderly. “Is this the woman you spoke with?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “When did you see her?” Nate asked.

  “About ten minutes ago.”

  “What did she say to you, exactly?”

  “That she pulled the alarm because someone was after her.”

  Nate’s fingers dug into the down-filled jacket. “Who was after her?”

  “She didn’t say.”

  “Where was she going?”

  “She took off into the parking lot.” He pointed. “That way.”

  “Thank you.” Nate dismissed the orderly and pulled Red aside. “Put out a BOLO on Cassie McBride. See how fast a few of the guys can get here to help search the woods bordering the parking lot.”

  “You think he dumped her body—”

  “Call Spike and Harvey,” Nate cut him off.

  “What about SAR?”

  “Too many personal connections.”

  “You mean Aiden and Bree?”

  “Let’s leave them out of this for now.”

  “I think it’s too late for that.” Red nodded at Aiden, who sprinted toward them.

  “What happened?” Aiden demanded.

  “Cassie is missing,” Nate said.

  “Wait, what? How is that possible?”

  “Officer Carrington, continue the search.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nate turned back to Aiden. “She hasn’t been gone that long. It appears that she felt threatened, pulled the fire alarm and ran.”

  “She ran?” Aiden’s voice pitched.

  With a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder, Nate said, “We’ll start by searching the woods bordering the hospital. Knowing Cassie, if she was in danger she would have taken off, but perhaps didn’t think it through to the end.”

  “She never does. She’s so impulsive sometimes.” Aiden’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Mom.”

  “We don’t need more frantic people down here, Aiden. Let’s focus on finding Cassie and then you’ll call her back with good news, okay?”

  Aiden nodded and paced a few steps away. “Hey, Mom. I have to call you back
...in the middle of something. Soon, love you, bye.” Aiden turned to Nate. “She knows something’s up.”

  “Let’s get to work. I’ve got a flashlight in my truck.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Aiden said, dazed with worry about his sister. “I’ll get mine, too.”

  Nate walked away, proud of himself for holding it together in front of his friend. He had no choice. As police chief, folks depended on him to be the grounding force in a crisis, and usually he excelled in that role.

  Today was different. Someone was after Cassie. He never should have let her go to the hospital alone. He should have stayed with her, protected her. Right, and how ridiculous was that considering he had a potential murder on his hands?

  He struggled to bury his concern and not let anyone see the utter panic tearing at his insides. But as he approached his truck, the bottled-up frustration got the better of him. He slammed his palm against the quarter panel.

  A woman’s cry echoed back at him.

  Nate froze, his heart pounding.

  Leaning forward, he peered into the flatbed. Cassie blinked her bloodshot, terrified eyes.

  “You’re in my truck,” he said.

  “D-d-disappointed?” She broke into a round of shivers.

  He grabbed a blanket from the backseat and climbed into the flatbed beside her. As he gently covered her body, a wave of calm washed over him. She was okay. For now.

  “Aiden!” He motioned to his friend who’d gone to get a flashlight. “Over here!”

  “I knew you’d come.”

  Nate snapped his attention to Cassie. “What happened? Why did you run?”

  “A guy...in the hospital...the guy with the shovel...from the cabin.”

  “Is it...?” Aiden stopped short and looked at her. “What are you doing in there?”

  “Aiden,” Nate warned, wanting him to soften his tone. “She’s trembling.”

  “Let’s take her inside,” Aiden said.

  “Nooooo.” She clamped her hand around Nate’s forearm. “Not back in there.”

  “Cassie, you need medical attention,” Aiden argued.

  “That man got to me in there. I can’t go back.” Her pleading blue eyes tugged at Nate’s heart.