Witness (Otter Creek Book 1)

by Rebecca Deel

  Serena shrugged. “You’ll find another job, Ethan. What about re-applying to the police force in Knoxville? You were already in their system before you came here.”

  He considered that a moment. “I could commute to work.”

  “No way.” Serena folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want you driving an hour each way to work. If you work in Knoxville, we’ll move.”

  “And if I can’t get work as a cop?”

  “You’re good at what you do, Ethan. Your skills and background make you a perfect fit in law enforcement. I love you, though, not your job. I don’t care if you’re a cop or a gardener.”

  “But what about Home Runs?”

  “People have to work for a living and my skills are portable. If we move to Knoxville, Home Runs, Inc. will operate from a new base.” She grinned. “A lot of potential clients live there. Madison can introduce me to her friends.”

  How did he get so lucky? Ethan brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “What about your family?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’d miss them, but my heart belongs to you. Where you go, I go. I won’t be part of a commuter relationship.”

  “Get on with it, Ethan.” Ruth nudged his foot with her crutch. “My blood pressure can’t take the stress.”

  Ethan laughed. “You don’t have a blood pressure problem, Aunt Ruth.”

  “Ha. It’s soaring with each excuse you spout. Ask the girl to marry you before she slips away.”

  Serena kissed the corner of his mouth. “Better listen to her, babe.”

  One eyebrow lifted. “You have another man in your life I don’t know about?”

  “Of course not. I want an official engagement before another beautiful woman tries capturing your heart.”

  He chuckled. She’d slipped under his defenses and wrapped him so deep in her love no other woman had a chance. “I want you happy.” Ethan pressed a gentle kiss on her mouth. “Serena Cahill, will you marry me?”

  A tear trickled down her cheek to her curved lips. “I thought you’d never get around to asking me. Yes, Ethan Blackhawk, I’ll marry you.”

  “Congratulations.” Ruth hugged Ethan, then Serena. “May I keep Jewel while you’re on your honeymoon?”

  #

  Serena grabbed an old agenda and fanned her heated face. Reporters, television cameras, city officials and curious Otter Creek civilians packed the town council’s meeting room, taxing the ancient air conditioning system. She glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes beyond the appointed time for the start of the press conference.

  “Relax, honey. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

  “I know, Mom, but it’s hard.” She leaned close to her mother’s ear. “Ethan’s future is at stake.”

  Liz slipped her arm around Serena’s shoulders. “Ethan is an incredible, resourceful man. He’ll find work, whether here or somewhere else.” She smiled. “We raised you to let you go, Serena. If you move to another place, just make sure you have enough room for all of us to visit.”

  Serena sniffed, blinking back tears, and leaned her head against her mother’s. “How do you know the right things to say every time?”

  Liz laughed. “I wish you had felt that way during your teen years.”

  Commotion on her right drew Serena’s attention to the two men entering through a side door. Butterflies flew in formation in her stomach. She smiled. In twenty years, she expected a similar reaction to his entrance into a room. Ethan looked sharp in his uniform.

  The mayor strode to the podium, unfolded his remarks and pulled down the microphone. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Henry Parks, mayor of Otter Creek.” He glanced up and smiled.

  Serena covered a grin with her hand. Did his secretary put the dramatic pause for pictures into his speech notes? She shifted her attention to Ethan, pleased to find his gaze on her. The corner of his lips twitched as if he, too, found the mayor’s performance amusing.

  “We’re pleased to announce the break-up of a theft ring, arrest of a murderer and the dissolution of a money laundering scheme by our outstanding police force with help by federal agents. I will now turn over the microphone to our chief of police, Ethan Blackhawk, for your questions.” Parks moved to the right side of the podium, but remained close enough to answer any questions directed to him.

  Ethan adjusted the microphone to accommodate his height. A ripple of laughter flowed through the crowd. He smiled. “I’ll answer as many questions as possible. Since law enforcement officials are still gathering evidence, some of my answers may not be as complete as you’d like.”

  “What else is new?” Megan called out from the front row.

  Another burst of laughter from the audience. Ethan grinned at her. “In deference to the local media, would you like to ask the first question, Ms. Cahill?”

  “What can you tell us about the man who called himself Mitch Harrington?”

  “The man who posed as the reporter, Mitch Harrington, is a contract killer from Europe. An out-of-state group hired Hans Muehller to retrieve incriminating evidence from a federal witness, then dispose of the witness.”

  “And the real Mitch Harrington?”

  “Found murdered in Las Vegas two days ago.”

  A reporter from the NBC affiliate raised her hand. “Is it true that Muehller took a woman hostage?”

  Serena shivered. Liz squeezed her shoulder. Hard to believe her nightmare ended in Hollywood thriller fashion. Remembering how close she came to losing Ethan still made her stomach lurch in protest.

  “Yes, ma’am, that is true.”

  “How is she?”

  “Other than a few bumps and bruises, she’s fine.” He pointed at another reporter.

  “Will you be filing charges against Muehller?”

  “Not at this time. The federal case supersedes any charges we could file.”

  “What if the Feds don’t make their case?”

  “There’s a bunk on death row in the state penitentiary with his name on it.”

  Ethan fielded more reporter questions for twenty minutes, then surrendered his place at the podium to Parks.

  “Let me assure you this crime spree in Otter Creek is unusual,” he said. “We’re grateful to our police force for their fine work in unraveling these crimes and arresting the perpetrators. Are there any other questions?”

  Megan raised her hand.

  Parks smiled at her. “Ms. Cahill?”

  “Any truth to the rumor you fired Chief Blackhawk?”

  Serena stiffened. Whispered conversations erupted in the meeting room. She should have anticipated Meg’s question. Her sister didn’t pull punches on something that mattered to her, and nothing pleased her more than pinning down Parks.

  The mayor tugged at his collar. “Uh, that was a misunderstanding on the council’s part, Ms. Cahill. Chief Blackhawk’s new to our community, his work methods unique. He proved himself well qualified for his position. Chief Blackhawk’s permanent employment contract will be on his desk by the end of the day.”

  #

  Saturday morning, Serena handed her sister a cold can of Coke. “Admit it, Meg. You’re having a great time.”

  Megan sank to the ground, popped the can’s tab and took several swallows before she replied. “Playing with a bunch of three-year-olds is akin to herding cats.”

  Serena smiled. Meg would rather eat nails than cop to enjoying chaperoning the toddlers on their Sunday school class picnic. She nodded her head toward the center of the church’s tree-lined yard. “Ethan doesn’t seem to feel that way.”

  On his knees, Ethan shuffled through the grass, football in hand. Squealing children hung onto his arms, neck and waist, trying to wrestle him to the ground.

  “He’s practicing.”

  Serena tossed Meg a blue towel. Sweat ran in rivulets down her face and mingled with smudges of dirt. “For what?”

  Meg wiped her face and the back of her neck. “Blackhawk babies.”

  Se
rena’s insides melted. In her mind, she pictured a tall boy with dark hair and eyes, and a smile like Ethan’s. Her mouth curved. “Not for a few years.”

  “Ha! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  Cheeks burning, Serena dug another cold drink from the ice chest. “I think you can pull the Home Runs ad from the newspaper, sis.”

  “Changing the subject, huh? Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

  “No available space in my schedule for new customers.”

  Meg grinned. “Great. I’ll expect full payment by the end of the month.”

  “Payment for what?” Madison dropped to the grass beside Meg. “What did I miss?”

  Serena passed Madison a Dr. Pepper and plopped down next to her. “Money for the Home Runs ad in the Gazette.”

  Madison gulped part of the drink, then pressed the can to her cheek. She frowned at Meg. “I thought you ran it at no charge.”

  She threw up her hand like a traffic cop. “Whoa, Maddie. At the time, Serena’s business teetered on the edge of oblivion. That’s no longer true.”

  “It’s not?” Madison shifted her gaze to Serena, a smile growing.

  Serena grinned. “No empty time slots. Looks like the Cahills won this war.”

  “What about Grace and her catering business?”

  Meg rose. “Her house is for sale. I hear she’s moving to Knoxville. More catering opportunities there.” She dropped her empty can in the trash, her gaze on the children swamping Ethan. “Hey, Chelsea,” she called. “Pull on his ear.” She trotted out to the field.

  In seconds, the toddlers launched an assault at Ethan’s head. He let them pull him to the ground, then retaliated by tickling the tacklers within reach. The warm afternoon breeze carried the sound of their laughter and Meg’s coaching.

  “You are so lucky, Serena. Ethan’s a wonderful man.”

  She turned her head and caught Madison’s wistful expression. “Like Dad, Josh and Luke.”

  Madison smiled. “Luke was special. I’m grateful for the twelve years we had together.”

  “Think you’ll ever marry again, Maddie?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe one day. Not any time soon, though.”

  Serena shifted her gaze, hiding a smile. Madison was starting to heal. Three months ago, she couldn’t talk about her husband without dissolving into tears.

  Ethan’s laughter broadened Serena’s smile. Madison was right. Ethan was a wonderful man. With such an explosive start to their relationship, Serena wondered what was in store for their future.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Photographers, reporters, curious onlookers and police covered the concrete stairs. At 12:00 noon on that hot August day, a muddy gray Taurus rolled to a stop in front of the courthouse.

  Serena squeezed his arm. Ethan glanced down. He smiled as sunlight glinted off her engagement ring. Dawkins got out first and scanned for trouble. He nodded. Kelly opened the door and escorted Pam up the stairs. The crowd stayed back, uneasy.

  Kelly returned. Dawkins turned his head and studied Serena. He looked down at their clasped hands. His gaze met Ethan’s. With a nod, Dawkins got in the car. The gray Taurus rolled out of town.

  About the Author

  Rebecca Deel is a preacher’s kid with a black belt in karate. She teaches business classes at a private four-year college in Nashville, Tennessee. She plays the piano at church, writes freelance articles, and runs interference for the family Westies. She’s been married to her amazing husband for more than 20 years and is the proud mom of two grown sons. She delivers monthly devotions to the women’s group at her church and conducts seminars in personal safety, money management, and writing. Her articles have been published in ONE Magazine, Contact, and Co-Laborer, and she was profiled in the June 2010 Williamson edition of Nashville Christian Family magazine. Rebecca completed her Doctor of Arts degree in Economics and wears her favorite Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt when life turns ugly.

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