Silent Witness

by Diane Burke

  At the top of the stairs, there was a loft. At the end of a six-foot railing was a short hall that led to the bedrooms. The three of them stared down at the foyer below for a better view of the crime scene.

  “This doesn’t make sense.” Sal’s puzzled expression twisted his lips in a frown and left deep parallel creases across his forehead.

  “When does murder make sense?” Liz asked. “But killers always have a reason that makes sense to them—even if it’s illogical to us. Our job is to do our best to figure it out.”

  Liz swept the area again with her gaze and offered up a silent prayer.

  Dear Lord, please help me bring the person who did this to justice.

  “Still…” Sal looked at Liz. “You’d think she would have tried to run out the front door. Why was she running upstairs?”

  “Maybe this might have something to do with it.”

  Darlene, standing in the hallway entrance, held up a large plastic bag filled with a white powdery substance. “I spotted the edge of this bag sticking out from between the box spring and the mattress in the master bedroom.”

  Sal took the bag and opened it to examine the contents. “Cocaine. Looks like we have our motive. Drug deal gone wrong.”

  Liz chewed on her lower lip. “The Hendersons? Drug dealers? I don’t know, Sal. It’s hard to believe the Hendersons were involved with drugs.”

  “Just how well did you know these people, Sheriff?” Sal asked. “Didn’t they just move here this year?”

  “I didn’t know them that well. I knew Kate from casual encounters at church. All of us have met Tom. He’s done some computer work for us at the station.”

  “Isn’t he the guy who installed the new software and GPS system in our patrol cars?” Darlene asked. “He updated the software on our desk computers, too. He didn’t look like a druggie to me.”

  “You know what all druggies look like?” Sal mocked. “I’ve been wasting my time. I should drive you around town and let you point out the possible druggies who may have killed that dealer behind Smitty’s bar last week.”

  “Knock it off, Sal. There’s a time and place for teasing and this isn’t it,” Liz reprimanded.

  Sal raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just saying, boss. These days drugs are everywhere.”

  Liz sighed. Sal was right. Whether she liked the idea or not, drugs had crept into her quiet little community. But she also agreed with Darlene. It was difficult picturing the Hendersons as part of that seedy side of life.

  Needing to get back to the station to begin organizing the investigation, Liz glanced at her watch and asked, “Who did you call to take Jeremy and how long ago did they leave?”

  Sal and Darlene glanced at each other and then gave her a blank look.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Sheriff.” Sal shot her a hard stare. “Who’s Jeremy?”

  A sense of dread raced up and down Liz’s spine. “Jeremy is their five-year-old son.”

  “The Hendersons had a son?” Darlene asked.

  “Yes. A special-needs child.”

  “I checked the house myself, Sheriff. There’s nobody else here.”

  “He has to be, Sal. Kate homeschools him. They don’t have any relatives living nearby that would be taking care of him.” Liz pushed past Darlene frantically. She raced from one bedroom to the next, checking the closets, looking under the beds. She came up short in the doorway of the master bedroom and looked hurriedly around the room. Trying to keep the panic out of her voice, she called his name.

  “Jeremy.”

  Silence.

  Liz dropped to her knees beside the master bed and looked underneath. Nothing. She raced to the closets. Tom’s closet was filled with shirts, pants, sneakers and polished shoes all organized and in their proper place—but no Jeremy.

  Her eyes made a quick sweep of Kate’s closet, skimming over the shoe racks and storage bins. Her hands brushed aside the dresses, blouses and slacks.

  She raced to the bathroom and looked inside the shower stall, even opened the linen closet.

  “Jeremy.”

  “I told you, boss,” Sal called from the doorway. “There isn’t any kid.”

  A sense of unease crept up her spine. She suddenly remembered something Kate had told her about Jeremy. He liked to burrow under things. She raced back to Kate’s closet.

  “Jeremy?”

  Her eyes searched the contents on the floor. The storage bins. The pile of folded blankets in the back corner.

  Then she froze.

  * * *

  Dr. Adam Morgan’s tall, imposing presence and crisp stride made people move out of his way without the need to ask. He didn’t pause at the nurses’ station or pull a chart or even speak to anyone for directions. It wasn’t necessary. He could see the police officer sitting on a chair outside the corner room at the end of the hospital corridor and he didn’t waste any time getting there.

  He flashed his identification badge and shifted his weight from one foot to the other while he waited for the officer to check his name against the list of people allowed access to the room. When he received the okay, he pushed open the door, strode into the room and then came to an abrupt stop.

  Lizzie.

  When he delivered his medical report to the sheriff’s department later today, he fully expected her to ask him to come in and answer some questions. Knowing her first impression of him after all these years would be important to what he hoped to achieve now that he’d moved back, he’d been trying to brace himself for it, trying to prepare how he’d act, what he’d say. But he hadn’t expected the encounter to be this soon.

  Not here, sleeping in a chair beside the hospital bed with her arm outstretched protectively over the sedated child.

  Not now.

  His heart skipped.

  Her features were exquisite—smooth skin, gently sloping nose, cheeks rosy with sleep. Her teenage lankiness had blossomed into softly rounded, female curves. The golden highlights in the loose bun tucked behind her neck caught the sunlight from the window. She was even more beautiful than he remembered.

  He didn’t think he had made a sound but her eyes shot open.

  The electric shock of sky blue looking back at him pierced his heart and froze him in place. A slow, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth when she saw him. Happiness lit her eyes, basking him in sunshine. He had missed this so much over the years—and then she came fully awake. The smile faded. The brightness dimmed. Being a psychiatrist, Adam recognized the flash of pain and hurt that danced across her features before she masked her emotions with another one—anger.

  “Adam.” He tried not to wince at the cold tone in her voice.

  “Good morning, Lizzie.”

  He knew it would be difficult seeing her again, but even years of studying human behavior hadn’t prepared him for the waves of shame and pain that engulfed him. After what had happened to her brother, Luke, Adam had believed he was doing what was best for Lizzie when he left. At the time, he’d convinced himself that he’d be the only one who would be hurt.

  It took just a glance at her face to make him realize just how wrong he had been—about everything. He’d abandoned her when she’d needed him most. He had made a huge mistake and compounded it with more wrong choices. He’d failed her. After all these years, there was probably nothing he could do to fix it.

  But he was going to do his best to try.

  “Good morning.” The soft, wistful sadness in her tone made him feel as if someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart. “I heard you were back in town.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

  She smiled sadly and shrugged. “Why would you?”

  It was the words not spoken that filled the room and heightened the tension between them. The mild censure in her last question was understandably deserved. He’d left without a word and he had returned—still, without a word.

  She stood up, stretching her arms and
back like a cat after a summer nap, and stepped forward. “I suppose we should talk.” She nodded toward the tiny body covered with white sheets lying on the bed. “About Jeremy.”

  “How long have you been here?” He moved toward the bed to check his patient’s monitors.

  “All night.”

  That surprised him and he turned to look at her. “Why? Doesn’t he have any family? Grandparents?”

  “No. Kate told me that Dave lost his family in a car accident when he was a teen. Her father died of a heart attack a couple years back. Her mother’s alive but has dementia and is living in a nursing home in Poplar Bluff.”

  “Aunts? Uncles?”

  “My team will check it out but I don’t think so.”

  “Poor little guy. As if autism wasn’t a big enough challenge for him.” He brushed his hand over the sleeping boy’s head and then turned his attention back to Liz.

  “So, why did you stay? You have a guard right outside the door.”

  “He’s afraid of uniforms.”

  “What?”

  “Jeremy.” She stretched again and rubbed her lower back as though trying to work out a kink. “Kate…that’s his mother…was his mother…” She bit her lower lip, frowned and looked across the bed at him. “Anyway, she told me once that Jeremy is terrified of people in uniforms. I thought the sight of the medical and police uniforms might send him over the top. I’ve met Jeremy a couple of times when Kate brought him with her to church. He might remember me. I thought I should stay close by to see if I could help when he wakes up.”

  Adam gave her a closer look and noted for the first time the loose flowered blouse covering her uniform. Only the bottom of her holster peeked from beneath the edge. If the boy did wake up, what he’d see was a pretty lady and lots of flowers—not a cop.

  A wave of respect washed over him. She’d grown up to be a caring, intelligent woman. But then, he’d always known she would because that’s what she’d always been. Most teenagers are self-serving and selfish until they find their place in the world. Lizzie was an exception. She was always loving, kind, trusting. It was the trusting part that made another wave of guilt wash over him.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when the boy arrived last night. I had an emergency in Poplar Bluff. But the hospital staff updated me by phone.”

  “That’s okay. The staff sedated him almost immediately and he’s been sleeping ever since.” She gently brushed the boy’s hair off his forehead and then raised her eyes to his. “I was surprised to hear that you’ve moved back to town.”

  “Why? This is my home.”

  “Really?” She tilted her head and studied him. “It didn’t seem to stop you from leaving it the first chance you got.”

  Ouch. There it was. The elephant in the room.

  He recognized the challenge behind her words. She had a chip on her shoulder and she was daring him to address the issue or try to knock it off. He knew anything he said right now would open old wounds and change nothing, so he remained silent.

  “I’m sorry,” Liz said. “That was mean.” She chewed on her bottom lip, something he remembered her doing when she was nervous or upset.

  “Forget it.” He smiled at her and hurried to change the subject. “Right now, I’m filling a temporary consultant position in Poplar Bluff. It’s not that long a drive from here. They had a real need and I owed a friend a favor. But as soon as they hire a replacement, all my attention will be here. I have big plans for Country Corners.”

  Liz grinned. “Really? You sound pretty excited. What kind of plans?”

  For an instant, it felt like old times again.

  When they were in high school, Liz had always been willing to listen and often offered sage advice beyond her years when he needed it. He thought he’d burst with his need to tell her about his plans for the community. His plans included her. He’d done his research before returning. He knew she was still single and not seeing anyone special. He was here to make amends, to right wrongs, to win her back.

  One look into her steely, challenging gaze told him it was going to be more like Mission: Impossible than the uphill battle he had expected. But he was going to try.

  “I’d like to tell you all about it. Maybe over coffee?” He hoped she’d still be able to read him, to sense his sincerity, at least.

  Indecision and wariness flashed across her face. She opened her mouth to respond but he spoke first.

  “But this isn’t a good time. Give me a rain check?”

  She closed her mouth and just stared at him.

  He nodded at the tiny body lying on the bed. “Right now, I’m only interested in what you can tell me about this boy.”

  When she looked across the bed at him, there was a telltale glistening in her eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was his words or the child’s situation that caused her such pain. His gut twisted when he realized it was probably both.

  “This little boy has lost everything and everyone,” Liz said. “He’s so young and vulnerable and…”

  “Autistic?”

  “Yes, autistic. Kate told me that he was making great progress with his verbal skills. And even though he still wasn’t a fan of eye contact or light touch, he would crawl into her lap and allow her to hug him or sit quietly while she rocked him.”

  She blinked several times and her eyes hardened. “I need to get the guy who did this. I’m going to get this guy no matter what.”

  Adam nodded his understanding and empathized with her. A person capable of destroying a family as though they were without value or worth did not belong on the streets.

  “Was the boy a witness?” Adam asked.

  “I don’t know. I think so, but I’m not sure. We found him hiding in the back of his mother’s closet beneath some folded blankets and clutching his teddy bear. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat and his clothes…” She took a deep breath. “His pajamas were splattered with…” She tried to shake the image out of her head and sighed heavily. “After we found him, we took a second hard look at the crime scene. Some of the smears could have been his footprints near his mother’s body and, again, in the kitchen by his father.”

  Adam looked at the sleeping child and his heart constricted. It would be hard enough to help a small boy rid himself of the fear of monsters after the experience he’d had. An autistic boy would present a bigger challenge. Anger simmered right beneath the surface. In his profession, no matter how often he’d come in contact with the face of evil, it still never ceased to surprise him. “Did he say anything when you found him?”

  Liz shook her head. “Sal and I found him. He took one look at our uniforms and got hysterical. Remembering what Kate had told me about uniforms, I slipped on one of his mother’s blouses. I told Sal to call the paramedics and to go into Dave Henderson’s closet and find shirts, hopefully large enough, for everyone to wear until we could get the child calmed down.

  “But Jeremy continued to scream and thrash about so much I had to forcibly hold him down until the paramedics arrived so he wouldn’t hurt himself. I wrapped my arms around him and held him against me as tightly as I could. After a few moments, it seemed to calm him.”

  Adam nodded. “You did the right thing. Many autistic children can’t tolerate light touch but crave deep pressure. Just like we swaddle infants in blankets to provide them with a sense of security, sometimes autistic children experience sensory overload and need swaddling as well to help them calm themselves.”

  She washed a hand over her face and Adam realized just how exhausted she was.

  He walked around the bed and stood beside her. He had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and comfort her. But after what he’d done, the poor choices, the mistakes, he didn’t deserve her friendship or her forgiveness—yet. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. What he needed was time to prove he had changed and convince her that he was worth a second chance.

  Instead, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You need to go home, Lizzie
, and get some sleep. Doctor’s orders.” He grinned, trying to lighten the somber mood.

  “I can’t. I have to get to the office. I’m sure the state boys have arrived by now. We have to form a task force and discuss investigation strategies.”

  “Call your office on the way home. Delegate tasks to other people.” He clasped her forearms and gently pulled her up to face him. “I’ve heard you are a good sheriff, Lizzie Bradford. Rumor has it that you are a great sheriff. But an exhausted, dead-on-her-feet sheriff isn’t going to get the job done. Go home. Grab a couple of hours’ sleep. The state police will still be here when you wake up.”

  “You’re right.” She smiled at him and there it was again, that bolt of sunshine hitting him in the face. Her smiles had always had that effect on him. They looked into each other’s eyes. Slowly, a tension, an awareness of past relationships, past hurts surfaced between them and he watched again as memories stole her smile away. She broke eye contact, glanced over her shoulder at the boy and said, “Please take good care of him, Dr. Morgan.”

  She crossed the room and paused in the doorway. “And Adam…” When she had his attention, she continued. “Call me Liz. You can even call me Sheriff. Nobody calls me Lizzie.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “That’s all I ever called you.”

  “I know.” Her words held a sadness that almost broke his heart. “But not anymore.”

  Then she slipped out of the room.

  TWO

  “Sal, can you come in here for a minute?” Liz placed her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk.

  The wiry Italian strode in. His brown shoulder harness held his Glock in place. Muscular biceps puffed out the short sleeves of his black T-shirt. A thin gold necklace ringed his neck. He grinned, his teeth white and even, and it was all Liz could do not to laugh. He was a walking caricature of a mafioso wannabe—an Italian tough guy. He knew it and played it to the hilt for the ladies. She’d found herself immune to this particular part of his charm years ago.

  Sal folded his wiry body onto one of the straight-back chairs in front of her desk and crossed an ankle on top of his knee.

  “Never thought you’d be one of the missing-in-