The Eyewitness

by Nancy C. Weeks

  “Miss D’Azzo?”

  The deep baritone voice stiffened her spine. She turned and faced Jared McNeil, Nathan’s commanding officer. Shit. How could a man his size sneak up on her unnoticed?

  “I’m Jared—”

  “I know who you are, Lieutenant McNeil.” Her heart skipped. “Is my brother all right?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Nathan sent me.”

  Emersyn took in a calming breath. The man rattled her nerves. It wasn’t his six-foot-four frame but his striking cobalt-blue eyes that seemed to read her thoughts. Inside her head wasn’t a good place to be at the moment. “To do what?”

  “He knows you will refuse protective custody. Instead, I’m here to offer you my protection.”

  “Lieutenant McNeil—”

  “Jared, please.”

  “Okay, Jared. I don’t need your protection. Use your men and resources to keep Nathan alive.”

  “I’m talking about my personal protection, or in this case, my brother’s security firm. Nathan asked me to keep an eye on you. I gave him my word because he needs his focus. He’s worried about you.” He broke his stare and observed Angela. “Based on what happened tonight, he has reason. What I’m asking is that you allow my brother’s men to shadow your family until things settle.”

  “That’s crazy. I can’t have you and your family following me around.”

  “Do it for Nathan’s peace of mind. He needs to know you’re safe, and my brother will keep you that way.” He reached into his coat pocket and removed a photo. “It’s kind of a done deal. I’ve already spoken to your mother and Tessa.” A slight pink rose in his cheeks. “This is Adam,” he said, handing her the photo. “Chances are you’ll never see him. But if you do, don’t shoot him. I’ve grown kind of fond of him.”

  “I don’t go around shooting people.” She wiped the sweat from her hands onto her jeans. The world was closing in on her, and she didn’t know which way was up. Had she been honest about everything from the beginning—the man on the bike trail and the file—they would all be in a better place.

  She closed her eyes and quieted her racing heartbeat. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

  This way, if the bastard broke into their house again, Mom wouldn’t walk in on him alone. As for Tessa, there was strain in her expression that she wasn’t talking about. Maybe this detail could help her in some way. And Emersyn owed Nathan some peace.

  “If I spot your brother, I’ll do nothing to prevent him from doing his job.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you, Jared. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay the kindness.”

  “Staying safe is payment enough.” He handed her his card. “If something spooks you, call. Night or day.”

  After a quick nod, he left, just as Alec charged around the opposite corner. Blood was smeared in his hair and dripped down the side of his temple from a wound above his ear. His left cheek was swollen, nearly to the point that it shut his eye, and the surrounding skin had turned a reddish blue.

  “What happened?” Emersyn brushed a light finger over his cheek. He flinched, and there was pain in his eyes. It pissed her off. “How did this happen? Who did this?”

  “I’m fine, Em.”

  “You’re not fine.” She studied the gash. “I want to know who did this.”

  “Are you going to start fighting my battles for me?”

  Yes! No. Damn it. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Look, it’s nothing.”

  “You need stitches.”

  “Em, what the hell are you doing here? What possessed you to leave the house?”

  His attitude hit her square in the gut. What the hell? He had no right to be pissed at her. Her concern drained away, leaving behind an emotion that was way too familiar.

  “I’ve had a shitty night, and I’m not in a good mood. Watch it, Pearce.”

  One minute she wanted nothing more than to kiss the guy silly and shield him from the world’s pain. The next, she had to pin her arms to her sides to keep from slugging the jerk.

  “Damn it, Em—”

  “Don’t you damn it me! Where the hell have you been?” She grabbed her phone. “Do you have one of these?” she asked, shoving the phone in his face and poking him in the chest. “Next time, use it.”

  He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the tops of her knuckles. “I didn’t know you cared.” Before she could pull her hand back, he dropped it and stepped in so close, the chill he carried from outside penetrated her skin. “Every cop for miles around is camped at your doorstep. I left you in a safe place, but you’re here.”

  “The journals and file are missing.” She fisted his jacket and moved her mouth close to his ear “Do you have them?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I put the journals under some towels in the dryer. Didn’t you hide the file? It was under the cushion before you tackled me, but it was dislodged and in plain view.”

  Dear God. She really had lost it.

  “It was there a-a-and then gone,” she sputtered. “After you left, Mom pulled me into the foyer until the police arrived, and the house filled with blue uniforms from all sides. By the time Handel arrived, the file was gone. Somehow I-I forgot. I didn’t think—”

  “If you didn’t hide it, CSI must have collected it,” Alec said calmly, nodding at Handel.

  “No. Handel doesn’t know anything about the file and journals, or at least I didn’t tell him. Instead, I acted like a crazy person, reaffirming his opinion of me.” She pulled Alec farther down the hallway. “Someone removed the file from under the sofa and walked out of the house with it.”

  The toll of the day finally hit her, and tears clogged her throat. She searched Alec’s face for some kind of emotion through his normal glare and a touch of pain.

  Angela cleared her throat from the doorway of her office. “If you two are done, I have a toddler who will be demanding smiley-face pancakes in less than three hours. I need my bed.”

  Alec entered Angela’s small office. Emersyn hung back in the doorway. She didn’t belong in the briefing. This was not her case.

  “What did you find?” Alec moved back to the door, reached for her arm, and tugged her next to him. The man kept surprising her. He was treating her like a partner.

  “The copper-jacket bullet fragments recovered from the D’Azzo residence are the same caliber as the bullets recovered from the Beltway copycat shootings and Joe D’Azzo’s murder. The general rifling characteristics on the bullet are the same. However, there’s a lack of sufficient matching of individual markings to identify the two bullet fragments as being fired from the same firearm as in the earlier shootings. You have yourself two Bushmaster XM-15 rifles.”

  “So, it’s not an exact match to the weapon that killed my father? Why would he change weapons?” The questions were out before Emersyn could stop them.

  “Alec, I’ll finish up my report and email it to you.” Angela met Emersyn’s stare. “Again, it’s our job to examine the evidence. I can’t answer why the crazy bastard chose a different weapon this time,” she said, tossing the file on a stack on her desk.

  The folder flipped to the front page as it hit the top of the stack. Emersyn glanced down, and her body tensed, her eyes rereading the last line of the document. It was the standard Chain of Evidence form she had seen many times before. She’d known that, at some point, she would see one with her father’s name printed in bold. What emptied her lungs was the name at the bottom of the page.

  Alec Pearce.

  There had to be a good explanation for why he’d never mentioned he was the first person to hold the bullet fragment the surgeon had removed from her chest after it had sliced through her father’s and into hers.

  Had this been a plan all along? Her dad was killed because of something he knew, and Alec was . . .

  Wha
t? What was his role in all of this?

  All she had to do was turn around and ask him.

  The walls closed in on her. Leave. Now. A gulp of sharp winter air in her lungs would burn enough to shake off the idea that Alec was in on her father’s murder. And if she didn’t get the hell out of the office in the next ten seconds, her emotions would explode all over Angela’s desk.

  “Em, are you all right?” Alec asked. “Your complexion turned dishpan white on me.”

  “I’m fine. Tired.” She faced her boss. “Thanks for allowing me to hang around. I’ll see you Monday morning.”

  After a quick nod, she rushed into the hallway. Turning the corner, she came to a dead stop. Her body wouldn’t move.

  Why would one person use two different guns of the same model . . . unless there were two snipers? And the use of the same gun couldn’t be a coincidence. Something erupted in her gut and she couldn’t shake it. Because she knew the type of weapon used in the recent Beltway copycat murders across Maryland had never been released to the public. Only someone very close to the case would know that information to leak it.

  Two identical weapons, two copper-jacket bullets, two snipers.

  Two identical weapons, two copper-jacket bullets, two snipers.

  Damn it! Two identical weapons, two copper-jacket bullets, two snipers.

  Emersyn wanted to scream.

  Alec had spent years learning to anticipate her father’s next move because it could one day save both of their lives. The extent he would go to had become a family joke. Instead, could he have been gathering information, biding his time . . .

  “No, damn it,” she murmured.

  This was Alec, her close family friend, her partner. She rubbed both hands over her face as she paced in circles. All her senses jolted alive at once, drawing the nightmare of her father’s death into the deserted hallway. The stench of blood, the weight of his body pressing her into the asphalt, and the sounds of her screams were all too real.

  And it all began in Grayson’s Tavern. The dance, Alec’s seduction. That was ground zero, the moment her father’s life was marked for death. Alec had taken their dance to a whole new level while her father stood glaring on the sidelines. He deliberately drove Dad out of the bar.

  Alec would have known that Joe D’Azzo would need to walk off his anger. What he probably didn’t anticipate was Emersyn deserting him on the dance floor.

  Dear God! Alec had been so insistent after her father’s death, when she believed he hadn’t been the victim of the sniper at all. He made her believe she was wrong, that the Beltway copycat was responsible for this, too. What if he’d just been covering up for the real murderer?

  He could have taken the bullet the surgeon handed over as evidence and switched it with one from the evidence locker for the Beltway copycat sniper. And he could have collected blood samples at the scene of her father’s death to manipulate the DNA on the bullet fragment. With a sniper terrorizing the state, why not pin another shooting on him to cover for somebody else? Emersyn must have really fucked things up when she spotted Shadow Man.

  Holy shit! Could Alec have covered that error by planting the bandage in the bark of the tree? Once Oliver had mentioned the sniper’s nest in the break room, Alec would have known she would check it out. A perfect plan to discredit her, in case she ever remembered Shadow Man. Who would believe her after she was accused of planting evidence? Shit . . . and withholding evidence?

  He’d made himself her personal bodyguard to keep a close eye on her.

  Damn it, stop! Emersyn shook her head hard, but the ugly thoughts wouldn’t dissipate. She had become a liability and an asset to him at the same time. Alec had used her to find the file, and she’d played her role like a pro.

  She moved toward the exit but stumbled when another thought sent her heartbeat crashing into her rib cage. Tonight, had her father’s shooter set her up to find the file so he could create a horrific diversion and steal it? Two birds, one stone. Alec was no longer useful to him. The killer could tie up loose ends simply by killing both of them and destroying the file. Perfect murders.

  Puzzle pieces exploded to the surface, and she hated the image they portrayed.

  Everyone was looking for one sniper when there were two, a copycat of a copycat. Fuck!

  Two killers circled her. The man who’d killed her father wanted her silenced. That made perfect sense. But where did that leave the real sniper? Was he a victim of this nightmare too? Her father had a relationship with Shadow Man, and the bastard ordered her father’s execution right in front of her. And yes, the person on the other end of that order could be the Beltway copycat sniper. Or almost anyone else.

  And Alec? Did he give Shadow Man a free pass? The answers she sought were sitting in the evidence locker. Angela had access.

  “Em, what’s wrong?” Alec asked from behind her, lightly touching her elbow. “And don’t tell me you’re fine. Something is going on inside that head of yours. I can almost see smoke from the grinding wheels.”

  Betrayal. The pain was unbearable. “Please don’t,” she whispered, yanking her elbow from his hold. She lifted her head and glared at the man in front of her. Of everything that had happened to her in the last several weeks, there was only one constant: Alec. She had no proof, but that didn’t make her wrong.

  She stalked to the bank of elevators, slamming the flat of her hand on the down button. She had to get out of the building.

  When the doors opened, Alec blocked her path. “Don’t walk away from me. I don’t deserve that.”

  She slipped around him and entered the elevator. He followed but moved into the back corner.

  “Then talk it out with me.”

  Emersyn leaned against the elevator’s front wall, one eye on the door, the other on Alec. One more floor. The box jolted, and she eased through the thin opening between the doors. She didn’t know where she was heading. Her car wasn’t waiting for her in its space, and Metro didn’t run this late. Still, her focus was on the entrance doors and escape.

  Alec again tugged at her arm, bringing her to a stop. This time, he drew her up against his chest, his eyes smoky, dark.

  Her muscles stiffened as she choked out, “Let go of me.”

  His hold tightened. “Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Like you’ve been so honest with me.”

  “Is there a problem?” Jared McNeil asked from his position near the security desk, his phone at his ear.

  “No problem—”

  “May I have a lift home?” Emersyn pulled out of Alec’s reach and stalked toward the entrance without waiting for a yes. Jared held the door open for her.

  “Em, wait a damn second!” Alec snapped. “We’re not done.”

  She turned, instantly regretting it. Alec’s hand reached for her, a move so unlike him.

  Because she had jumped to the worst conclusion without giving him a chance to defend himself. But again, that didn’t mean she was wrong. “I can’t handle anything else today.”

  “At least allow me to give you a ride,” Alec said.

  “Go to the ER and get that cut checked out. Jared will see me home.”

  “So, our deal to trust one another couldn’t stand twenty-four hours.”

  She had no comeback.

  Alec glared at Jared. “Who the hell is this guy? Do you even know him?”

  “Nathan sent him.”

  “Nathan’s a good friend, and damn it to hell, Em, your dad trusted me. Why can’t you?”

  “Because maybe he shouldn’t have.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alec dropped into Joe’s desk chair. A deep groan escaped his lips. He grabbed a paper towel off the roll Em had left behind and pressed it to the side of his head. Even after a shower and a good dab of antibiotic ointment, the wound still bled. What he would do for a bottle of bourbon. But that wasn’t the answer, especially not in this chair.

  The shooter had gotten a swing at him with a tree branc
h when Alec ran blindly through the woods like a fucking rookie. Action. Reaction. Joe’s words shouted in Alec’s head as if Joe stood in front of him. Alec’s best friend’s killer was handed a free pass tonight. And that was on Alec.

  The skin on the back of his neck prickled. He raised his head and faced his commander. “Captain, you need something?”

  “What the hell are you doing here, Pearce?” Captain Gates took a moment to study him before adding, “You never got that checked out, did you?” He pointed at his wound.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Nothing, my ass. You’re a walking concussion.”

  “And I have a killer to catch.”

  Gates shifted his position. “Can’t blame yourself. Things happen.”

  And there it was, the last thing Alec wanted to hear. Gates was feeling sorry for him. The man should’ve been putting him through the wringer.

  “Anything new come to you on your attacker?” Gates asked.

  “No. His face was hidden behind a hoodie. White guy about six feet, thin build, with a damn powerful swing.”

  “There’s a possibility that guy was just a jogger out for a run. If I ran across you carrying a weapon in the dark, I would swing a large stick at you too.”

  “Captain, he’s our guy. But why the hell didn’t he kill me? I can’t get my head around that. He fires through the D’Azzos’ family room, missing us both. But then he gets me lying unconscious on the ground and walks away. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Maybe it’s like hunting wild game. It isn’t any fun if the animal lies still for the kill. Be thankful you’re alive. How’s Emersyn?”

  Pissed as shit. “I guess she’s okay.” Alec broke eye contact. “Look, Captain, about tonight, I understand if—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there, Pearce. Again, shit happens to all of us. Get to the ER and get that wound checked out. And don’t show your face back here for thirty hours. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, sir.” Alec swallowed his “go to hell” response as Gates exited the office. No way was he wasting time on a bump on the head. He eased back in the chair and closed off the world. The calm lasted all of two seconds before his fingers clenched.