There was a rush of movement, a loud whack, a masculine groan and then a thud as a body fell to the floor.
Thea held her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. A part of her wanted to rush out from underneath the desk and see what was going on, see if she could help whoever had been hurt, but she knew that would be foolhardy, especially when she recognized the next sound—that of a clip being shoved home in a weapon. The noise took her straight back to her former life. Rick loading and unloading his gun, smiling at her all the while…
The movements of the person in the office became hurried. The computer was turned off, a file drawer opened and the contents plundered. After a moment the drawer was slammed shut again, and Thea heard the person crawl through the window and the crunch of shoes on the pavement outside, followed instantly by the sound of running footsteps.
Shaking all over, she crawled out from under the desk. The door to the newsroom was open, and light filtered in, revealing the security guard who lay motionless on the floor. Blood oozed from a gash on his left temple. Cautiously Thea approached him.
Please don’t be dead, she prayed as she knelt and felt for a pulse. He was still alive, but she had no idea how badly he was hurt. Closing the office door, she hurried over to the phone and dialed 911. She gave the address of the building to the dispatcher, but when she was asked her name, she hung up.
She glanced wildly around the office. She couldn’t be found here. She felt terrible leaving the security guard wounded on the floor, but what else could she do? She had to think of Nikki—
Yes, she did have to think of Nikki.
Bucking up her courage, Thea glanced around the office more carefully. Had she left anything here? Quickly she opened up the file drawer and searched through the M’s, making sure there wasn’t a tab for Mancuso. Was it her imagination or were the folders not packed quite as tightly as they had been? Had the intruder taken a file?
Knowing she had no time for speculation, Thea slipped her light back into her pocket and turned toward the door. All she had to do now was go back upstairs and make up some excuse to Tully why the job wasn’t for her. She couldn’t just leave because Tully might get suspicious of her. And then when the security guard was found…
No, she had to do this the right way. She had to play it smart, which meant she couldn’t afford to panic.
TULLY WAS WAITING for her in the washroom where he’d left her. He tapped his foot impatiently and glanced at his watch.
“Where the hell have you been, girl?”
“Sorry.” She gave him a shaky smile. “I felt a little light-headed, so I thought I’d better get some fresh air. Guess this job is harder than I thought. All that bending over.”
Tully gave her a doubtful glance. “You sure you can handle this?”
Thea opened her mouth to say, “No, I can’t. You were right,” when a siren sounded in the distance. Her legs started to tremble. Was it the ambulance? The police? Could she risk creating a scene with Tully? The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tully. Maybe I just need to pace myself. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it don’t.” He paused. “I gotta go start on the floors. You gonna be all right? Not gonna pass out or anything, are you?”
Thea felt a little guilty. She saw genuine concern in the man’s eyes. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr. Tully.”
The moment he was out of sight, she left the washroom and went in search of an office with a window that looked down on the street. An ambulance had arrived, and as she watched the paramedics unload a stretcher, two patrol cars came racing around the corner and screeched to a halt at the curb. The officers got out and started running for the building.
Escape, for the moment, was out of the question.
THE PHONE WAS RINGING when John got home. After leaving his uncle’s house, he’d stopped off at Durty Nellie’s, an Irish pub where a lot of cops hung out, hoping to find his brother there. He’d been trying to get in touch with Tony for days, but his brother was either buried under a heavy caseload or avoiding him. John suspected it was the latter.
He snatched up the phone, cradling it against his ear as he reached down to extract Cassandra’s claws from his pants leg. “Hello?”
“That you, Johnny?”
“Yeah,” he said, recognizing his partner’s drawl.
Cassandra arched her back and gave him a laconic glare before stalking out to the kitchen. Her food bowl was undoubtedly empty, John thought. She always got cranky when she was hungry.
“Get your pants on, boy. We just got ourselves a lead.”
Excitement rippled through John. “What’s going on?”
“A buddy of mine from the Thirteenth District just called me. They’ve got a B and E at a newspaper office on LaSalle. Recognize the address?”
“Damn right. That’s Gail Waters’s paper.”
“How soon can you be there?”
“I’m on my way,” John told him. “You coming?”
There was a long pause. John thought he heard a woman murmuring in the background. “Nah. I’ll let you take this one.”
“I’ll talk to you in the morning then.”
John reached for his coat and holster, then glanced at his watch. He’d been home a total of three minutes. That could be a record for him.
THE AMBULANCE had already left for the hospital by the time John arrived on the scene. One of the uniforms briefed him on the security guard’s condition. “He’ll make it, but he’s gonna have one hell of a headache in the morning.”
“Was he conscious?” John asked.
“In and out.”
“Could he identify the suspect? Give a description?”
The officer shrugged. “He was pretty out of it, but he said the perp was wearing a parka and a ski mask. Beyond that, he wasn’t much help. Could have been anywhere between five feet and six feet. Could have been male or female.” The officer shrugged. “Bradshaw’s dusting for prints, but I doubt we’ll find anything.”
John doubted it, too. He left the officer and walked into the building, going straight to Gail Waters’s office. He and Roy had been there intermittently over the last few days, going through files, talking to Gail’s coworkers. Nothing concrete had turned up, other than that she’d been very ambitious, prone to severe bouts of depression, and she might or might not have been involved with a married man.
Not much to go on, John thought, remembering the conversation with his uncle. There was still no proof she’d been murdered. Nothing but John’s gut instinct.
Cold air blew in through the broken window. The office was frigid. John walked over and introduced himself to the detective on the scene.
“Mind if I have a look around?”
The detective shrugged. “I just got here. The office was secured though, so it should be sterile.”
John nodded, then turned and observed his surroundings. The file drawers were all closed, the computer turned off, the chair shoved up against the desk. At first glance nothing appeared to be disturbed, but something was undoubtedly missing. Files? Data from the computer? Evidence he and Roy had overlooked?
He walked over to the file cabinets and glanced around, wondering which of the drawers had been opened, what had been taken from them.
“I’m going outside to have a look around,” the detective told him. “Holler if you find anything.”
“Sure thing.”
The detective closed the door behind him, and John studied the carpet in front of the metal cabinets. A standard white shirt button lay buried in the nap, and John bent to pick it up. Slipping the button into an evidence bag, he put it in his pocket, then opened the top drawer of the nearest cabinet to study the files, trying to detect a missing folder, a misplaced tab. Had the button come from the suspect’s shirt while he stood searching through these same files?
The folders were in alphabetical order, Lambert, Lehy, Lohman and so on behind the L tab, and the M’s—Man
quito, McCorkle, Morris and so forth on the M tab.
Wait a minute.
John’s fingers backtracked. Morris. As in Morris Dalrimple?
The information inside was on a missing teenager from Orange County, California.
Okay, nothing there. But still, something wasn’t right here. He closed the drawer slowly. A tab on one of the folders dragged against the top, as if it had been pulled out of place slightly when another file—the one in front of it or the one behind it—had been removed.
John withdrew the file and scanned the contents. The tab was labeled Manning, Frederick, but that didn’t tell John much, other than to suggest the name on the missing file began with Ma. As John started to replace the file, he saw a photograph lying on the bottom of the drawer, as if someone had filed it in a hurry and missed the folder.
He brought it out to the light and studied it for a moment. The snapshot was of a man wearing a police uniform, but it wasn’t the Chicago PD. He didn’t think it was New York or L.A., either, but he couldn’t be sure. The lettering on the shield was too small to make out.
He had no idea if the picture belonged to the file he’d just taken out of the drawer or to the missing file. Hell, he really had no way of knowing if a file was missing. But the suspect hadn’t broken into Gail Waters’s office and taken out a security guard for kicks. He—or she—had been looking for something, and John was willing to bet money he’d found it.
Putting the picture in the bag along with the button, he left the office. The detective was talking to one of the uniforms, but he came over to John when he saw him.
“Find anything?”
John thought about the photograph. There was something about the man’s face that was strangely disturbing. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ll let you know. Let’s question the cleaning crew.”
THEA DECIDED she’d better make a break for it. But she’d left her coat downstairs. She tried to remember whether or not there was anything in the pockets that could be traced to her, but decided she’d better not risk it.
Even though she’d found nothing incriminating in Gail’s files, the mere fact that she’d been on the premises when the office was broken into would be damning enough.
She slipped down the back hallway to the storage room, just off the alley entrance, where the cleaning crew had left their coats and gloves. As she rounded a corner, she came almost face-to-face with John.
He was talking to a man—another detective, she was sure—and Mr. Tully. She backpedaled, then flattened herself against the wall as their voices came closer. She glanced around frantically. There was a door across the hall, but she wasn’t sure she could reach it without being seen. If the door was locked, she was definitely doomed.
Taking a deep breath, she dashed for the door. The knob turned in her hand and she all but fell inside. She listened at the door, trying to hear their voices again. It seemed to her that they paused right outside the door she’d just gone through, almost as if they could sense her presence.
Thea held her breath. What would she do if John suddenly opened the door and confronted her? Would she lie to him? Tell him the truth and beg for mercy?
What would he do?
He was a cop, she reminded herself. There was only one thing he could do. He’d have to turn her in.
She trembled as she listened to his voice. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but she’d recognize those rich tones anywhere. The sound sent a shiver of awareness rippling through her. Even as frightened as she was, she could still appreciate John’s voice. The deepness of it. The sexiness of it.
She closed her eyes, remembering his kiss. Remembering how much she’d wanted it.
What is wrong with you? a little voice inside her demanded. Why do you always pick the wrong men to fall for?
She was an intelligent educated woman. She knew John Gallagher was dangerous to her, yet she couldn’t help being drawn to him. And if she hadn’t been attracted to him before, seeing him with her little girl, knowing how much he wanted to protect Nikki…
Thea drew several deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves. He was a good man, a caring man. She had no doubt about that. But he was also a cop, sworn to uphold the law. She would be a fool to forget that.
The voices drifted away, and after a moment she chanced opening the door. She glanced up and down the hallway. The coast appeared to be clear. Stepping into the corridor, she went in search of her coat.
“GRACIOUS ME, I was becoming very worried about you,” Mrs. Lewellyn said when Thea let herself into the apartment. “It’s after midnight.”
“I’m sorry I’m so late.” Taking off her coat, Thea slung it over the back of a chair. “Thank you so much for staying with Nikki.”
“I was glad to do it. But I would have felt much easier if I’d known what this mysterious trip of yours was all about.” Mrs. Lewellyn studied her curiously. “I worry about you, dear. Especially with everything that’s going on around here. You shouldn’t be out alone so late at night.”
“I can take care of myself.” Thea sat down in an armchair opposite Mrs. Lewellyn and kicked off her shoes. She was suddenly exhausted, and seeing John inside that office building hadn’t helped her nerves one bit. Dear God, if he’d seen her…
But he hadn’t, she reminded herself. And it was all over now. She was back home safe and sound, and he never had to know where she’d been tonight. He never had to know about Baltimore, either. There was nothing for him to find in Gail Waters’s files.
Mrs. Lewellyn pushed herself up from the sofa. “I’d better be getting back to my place. I’m glad you made it home, Thea dear, safe and sound,” she said, echoing Thea’s sentiments.
“Thanks. And thank you again for watching Nikki. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’m always just down the hall.” At the doorway Mrs. Lewellyn turned back to her. “Oh, by the way, I see you’re missing a button on your uniform. I’ve got a whole boxful of spares, so I’m sure we can find a match.”
THEA WAS SO KEYED UP she didn’t think she’d sleep a wink. After looking in on Nikki and reassuring herself that her daughter was sleeping peacefully, she stripped off all her clothes and took a long shower, hoping the hot water would relax her.
After drying her hair and pulling on a pair of worn silk pajamas, she climbed into bed. The events of the night came rushing back to her. But to her surprise, she almost immediately grew sleepy, from sheer mental fatigue, she suspected. She drowsily thought about the lack of evidence in Gail Waters’s office, the intruder, the injured security guard. What did it all mean for her and Nikki?
Nothing, she hoped. Maybe this was the end of it, as far as they were concerned, and they could concentrate on the improvement Nikki had made in the past day or two.
Thea frowned. It almost seemed that Nikki’s progress had begun the night Gail Waters had plunged to her death. Or was it because that was the night John Gallagher had entered their lives?
Nikki’s response to him was undeniable. Thea had never known her daughter to warm to a stranger the way she had to John. With him Nikki seemed to feel safe in a way she never had with her own father. Thea wasn’t even sure she herself had been able to instill that sense of security in her daughter, although she would do anything to protect her.
But John was different. There was something about him that made even Thea want to turn to him for help, made her at times want to cling to him, and she’d never been a clinger. She’d been stupid to fall for a man like Rick Mancuso, but once she’d realized her mistake, she’d set about at once to rectify it. And she’d promised herself she would never make the same mistake twice, and yet here she was, deeply attracted to a cop who had every bit as much power over her as Rick had.
Question was, would John use it against her or for her? How far would he be willing to go to protect her and her daughter?
Thea knew she would be wise not to put him to the test. In spite of Nikki’s response to him, there was no place in
their lives for John Gallagher. The sooner this case was closed and the sooner he walked out of their lives for good, the better.
Turning over in bed and snuggling against the pillow, Thea’s last thought before she drifted off to sleep was, strangely enough, about the button missing from her uniform. Where and when had she lost it?
SHE AWAKENED SUDDENLY with a deep sense of unease. But glancing at the bedside clock, Thea realized she’d been asleep for nearly two hours. It was just after three-thirty. She had only a couple more hours before she’d have to get up and get ready for work.
Her thoughts froze as she realized suddenly what had awakened her. A sound that didn’t belong in the apartment.
Thea’s heart started pumping as she sat up in bed and listened. It was probably nothing, she told herself. The building was old and creaky, and there were a lot of university students who lived here. They came home at all hours, partied long into the night.
But Thea was accustomed to the noises they made, and she knew every sound in her small apartment—the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, Nikki turning over in her bed, even the faint drone of the alarm clock beside her bed. She’d lain awake night after night, distinguishing the various noises, committing them to memory so that if she was ever awakened in the middle of the night by a strange sound, she’d know what to do.
Getting up as quietly as she could, she slid her feet into slippers, then padded into the tiny living room. She didn’t turn on a light; she didn’t need to. She could navigate the apartment in the darkness, because she’d practiced that, too.
She stood for a moment listening, almost convincing herself her overwrought nerves had conjured the sound, but then it came to her again, and she recognized almost at once what it was. The doorknob on the apartment door was turning. Someone was trying to get inside.
Crossing the room, Thea glanced out the peephole. She almost gasped in terror. The hallway lay in complete darkness, which meant someone had turned off the lights. Someone had planned this.
Panic exploded inside her. She whirled away from the door and, grabbing her coat from the back of the chair, ran toward Nikki’s bedroom.
The Littlest Witness Page 12