Silent Witness

by Diane Burke

  “That’s what good parents do. They protect their children.”

  Liz’s thoughts flashed to her dad, her childhood and Luke. She loved her father but he had been far from perfect. Protect them? Sure, he protected them from the world. But who protected them from him?

  “Speaking of dads, how is your father these days?” Liz looked at him with genuine interest. She hadn’t heard a word, not even a whisper, about the Morgans after they moved away.

  “Mom and Dad are fine. They have a place overlooking Central Park in New York. They retired early and plan to enjoy their lives. Last I spoke to them, they’re flying to Hawaii for a month.”

  Liz smiled. “Must be nice. Psychiatry can be a lucrative business, I suppose.”

  “It can be.” Adam shrugged. “It’s also given me an opportunity to pay it back, help people I wouldn’t have been able to help otherwise.”

  She’d read about his mentoring programs and his generosity to various social agencies.

  This was a mature side of Adam. Philanthropist. Stellar professional reputation. Impressive. But what surprised her the most was his way with children. His kindness. His patience. His innate ability to know when to be stern and when it was okay to be permissive. He’d make a wonderful father.

  She couldn’t believe she was even entertaining such thoughts. Where was all this coming from? Adam as a good father. Maternal feelings toward Jeremy. This case was rocking her carefully built world and she’d be happy when it was over.

  But even if she was devoted to her career, she was still a woman, wasn’t she?

  Her eyes traveled across the darkened stubble of his unshaved face. Liz had to physically fight the urge to drag her fingers across the roughened surface of his cheek. The stubble lent an air of “bad boy” mystique to the man. Then again, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? A bad boy who broke her heart and disappeared without an explanation?

  “Are you all right, Lizzie?” He tilted his head and studied her face with an intensity that melted her feet to the concrete.

  She smiled up at him, her voice teasing. “I told you not to call me Lizzie.”

  He grinned—a slow, easy, inviting grin.

  “And just how do you intend to stop me, huh?” He put his hand on the door frame just inches from her face and leaned his body closer. His eyes traced a slow path down every crest and curve of her body and back up again. His lips came so close to hers she could barely control the need to lean forward and steal a taste.

  “What are you gonna do, Lizzie?” He drawled her name out slow and easy, his hot breath fanning her face. Teasing her. Tempting her. He slid an index finger down her cheek and moved it ever so slowly along the curve of her neck.

  “Gonna arrest me, ma’am? Gonna put those nice silver handcuffs on my wrists?”

  She grabbed his wrist, spun him around and slammed him against the door frame as if he were a perp she was arresting. She pinned him with her body, her leg planted firmly between the backs of his legs.

  “Is this what you want?” she asked, whispering the words tantalizingly slow and soft against his ear. “I’ll be glad to oblige with those handcuffs, you know. Anytime.”

  A deep rumbling laugh sounded in his throat.

  “Okay, okay. I give up. You’ve proved your point.”

  Blood pounded through her body in a heated flush and left the telltale signs of her reaction to him on her reddened neck and cheeks. This was a side of Adam she’d never seen before. He was a grown man now—a dark, dangerous, fantastically attractive man.

  And she was flirting with him. Was she crazy?

  She released him and took a step back.

  “I’m too busy to play word games with you, Dr. Morgan. In the past three weeks, in case you hadn’t noticed, Country Corners has exploded from a sleepy little Midwest town to the hub of three homicide investigations, a car explosion and a town with a growing drug problem. It doesn’t allow a sheriff much time for…anything.”

  Adam didn’t try to argue with her, but his eyes and body language let her know he wasn’t buying her explanation.

  “Speaking of work, I have to get back to it.” Liz tried to slip past him but his arm shot out and blocked her path. He held her gaze.

  “Still think I made a mistake bringing the boy here?”

  They both knew the first day had been torture. Each time she had shot him a glaring look, his eyes told her he knew exactly how she felt but still disagreed with her position. They’d barely said two words to each other in the past seventy-two hours.

  But he was asking now. Her opinion seemed to

  really matter to him.

  “I’m withholding judgment for now.” She tried to move past him again but his arm still blocked the way.

  “The boy’s doing better. He’s starting to adjust to his new normal, don’t you think?”

  She knew what he was asking. Would she be able to admit that maybe he’d been right? Or would her pride get in the way? Would she be able to accept Adam’s professional decisions or would she continue to compare him to his father? Would she be able to stop dwelling on the tragic circumstances of her brother’s death and see Jeremy’s circumstances for what they were?

  Adam never voiced those questions but they were there—hidden in the depths of those beautiful, golden-brown, penetrating eyes.

  Before she could answer, the phone rang.

  “Excuse me.” Liz pushed his arm aside and hurried into the house. She answered on the third ring.

  “Sheriff Bradford.”

  “I think we found someone you might like to chat with, Sheriff. Do you remember Danny Trent?” Sal’s voice sounded like the cat that swallowed the canary.

  “Danny Trent? How could I forget wife-beating drunk Danny Trent?

  “If I remember correctly, you picked him up but didn’t arrest him,” Liz replied.

  “Not for lack of trying. When the wife realized we were going to lock up her boxing buddy and throw away the key, she jumped on my back and pummeled the life out of me.”

  Liz laughed. “I remember. She rode your back like you were a bucking bronco. I ended up arresting her for assaulting an officer.”

  “Don’t I know it. She spent the night in a jail cell. He spent the night bending an elbow at Smitty’s telling all his cronies about it. I hate domestic calls.”

  Liz laughed again. “Poor Sal. It’s going to take you a while to live that one down. But I was proud of you. You never once raised your hand to her even though she did rip out a chunk of that beautiful, thick black hair of yours.”

  “Humph.”

  “And you think I’d want to talk to him why…?”

  “Because he threatened to kill you…all of us really…if we didn’t let his wife loose.”

  “So? He was drunk and the incident was almost a week ago. You don’t need me. You can do the interrogation.”

  “Trust me, boss. I really think you’ll want to do this one.”

  She paused and considered her options. She trusted Sal implicitly. If he wanted her to drive into town, there had to be a good reason behind it.

  “Okay, send Paul out here to relieve me. I’ll come in as soon as he arrives.”

  “He’s already on the way.”

  “Think you’re calling the shots, do you? Smart aleck. Okay, I’ll give you this round. I’ll be in shortly but I still don’t understand why. It’s been my experience that wife beaters are nothing but cowards, anyway. He probably doesn’t even remember what he said that night.”

  “You’re right about men who beat women being cowards. But I asked around at a couple of the local bars. The guy hasn’t let it rest. He’s still running his mouth about how he’s going to make you pay. Teach you what it would be like for you to go up against a real man.”

  “Yeah, right. Real man, huh?” She sighed. Sometimes human nature didn’t seem worth the trouble and she wondered why God just didn’t turn His back on the whole mess. How could He still love and forgive people who made such bad choice
s over and over again? But He did. She wondered if she’d ever be able to comprehend the depths of God’s love.

  “I know you, Sal. There’s got to be more to this or you wouldn’t be wasting my time. What aren’t you telling me?”

  Liz heard a self-satisfied chuckle on the other end of the line.

  “Darlene ran a complete background check on him. He’s ex-military. Before he was dishonorably discharged, he was a sniper.”

  SEVEN

  Liz entered the interrogation room. “As I live and breathe, it’s Mr. Trent. Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon.”

  Danny’s hands were folded together on top of the table. He looked up and glared at her. “I shouldn’t be here. I didn’t do anything. You have no right to haul me in here and treat me like this.”

  “That so?” Liz sat down opposite him. “Seems to me, you’ve been a very busy boy this past month. Two drunk and disorderly calls at Smitty’s, one pending DUI charge and, oh yes, another 911 call for domestic abuse. But no charges on that one, right?”

  Danny Trent filled the room with expletives.

  Liz laughed. “That’s all you got? Schoolboy foul language and blustering?”

  He started to rise and Sal pushed him back down in his chair. “Don’t move.” Sal leaned over and got in his face. “I’m itching for a chance to show you what the right hook you gave your wife feels like. Just give me a reason.”

  Sal moved back but stayed close.

  “What do you want?” Danny’s sneer revealed yellowed teeth and poor dental hygiene.

  Liz positioned herself out of the range of his breath. She shuffled some of the papers in the file in front of her. “We ran a little background check on you. Guess what we found?”

  Danny leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

  “It’s your party. I don’t know and frankly I don’t care.”

  Liz smiled and tapped her fingers on the manila folder. “It says you served five years in the army.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “You were a trained sniper. Pretty good at your job, too. Got yourself a couple of commendations.”

  “Yeah, so what? That was a long time ago.”

  “So, what I’d like to know is how does a decorated soldier get himself dishonorably discharged?”

  Liz watched the man’s ruddy complexion redden more. His body tensed.

  “That’s none of your dog-tailed business. What are you fishing around in my past for, anyway?”

  “Answer her question.” Sal glared at the suspect.

  Liz picked up a sheet of paper, pretended to read and then smiled sweetly. “Mr. Trent, where were you three days ago at four-thirty in the afternoon?”

  “Again, lady, none of your business.”

  Sal slapped the table. “Answer her question or I’m going to make it my business.”

  Danny slid a glance at Sal, seemed to realize the truth behind Sal’s words and then turned his attention back to Liz.

  “I was at work.”

  “Not true, Mr. Trent. We checked with your boss. Your time card shows you clocked out before lunch on Monday. So, where’d you go?”

  He looked puzzled for a minute. “Oh yeah, I forgot. I ate something that didn’t agree with me. I felt sick so I left.”

  “You were hungover, you mean.”

  Danny glared at her but remained silent.

  “Okay, so you felt sick, couldn’t work and clocked out. Where’d you go?”

  “Home. Where you think? Ask my wife, she’ll tell you.”

  “You see, that’s a funny thing. We did just that and you know what? She said you were at work all day on Monday. Didn’t come home until dinnertime.” Liz folded her forearms on the table and leaned in a little closer. “So, where were you? This time try telling me the truth.”

  He eyes darted around the room as though searching for a hasty exit and he squirmed in his seat.

  “I want a lawyer.”

  “Do you need a lawyer?”

  “I didn’t do anything. Why did you haul me in here? Charge me with something or let me get out of here.”

  Danny seemed to think if he shouted really, really loud that she’d cower and back down. It probably was how his wife reacted to his outbursts. Instead, Liz leaned in closer and smiled as sweetly and femininely as possible.

  “What’s the matter, Mr. Trent? I’m just a simple female asking you a simple question. Now you can handle that, can’t you? Or do we need to call in a lawyer to hold your hand because you’re not man enough to talk to me.”

  His eyes widened and he slammed his fists on the table. “I’m not afraid of any woman and I sure am not afraid of you.”

  Liz went for the kill. “Good for you. Now prove it. Tell me why a decorated soldier was drummed out of service. Tell me where you were and what you were doing Monday afternoon.” Liz got in his face almost nose to nose and made her voice stern and harsh. “Tell me. Now.”

  Something was scaring Danny and she knew it wasn’t her. He twitched and twisted in his seat so much Liz was certain he’d burn a patch off his jeans. What was he hiding? She decided to try another tactic.

  “That’s what I thought. The man talks big but that’s all it is…a whole lot of hot air. He’s not man enough to answer my questions. Get him out of here, Sal. And check that seat. He probably wet himself when I got too close.”

  Danny Trent let out a roar, called her a colorful dirty word and lunged across the table. He grabbed Liz around the throat and squeezed. Before Sal could clear the edge of the table, Liz had propelled herself backward, pulling with all her strength. She used both her hands to come up between his arms and force his hands off her throat. He slid to the floor and in one fast, fluid motion, she had him rolled onto his stomach, his hands pinned behind his back and her knee slammed into the small of his back.

  She yanked harder on his wrists. “Are you ready to play nice or am I going to have to cuff your cowardly butt and throw you in jail?”

  Not waiting for an answer, she and Sal hauled him to his feet and returned him to his side of the table. She stood an inch taller than Danny and, for once, was grateful that she could use her height to intimidate a man. “Look, you little weasel, you have one minute to make a choice. You can sit your butt back down in that chair and answer my questions or Sal will lock you up for assaulting an officer so fast you won’t have time to utter the word ‘lawyer.’ Your choice, buddy. What’s it going to be?”

  Danny Trent sat down. He threw a defeated look their way. “If I answer your questions, can I get out of here?”

  “Maybe.” She walked around the table and sat back down facing him. “But I guarantee that the only place you are going is to a jail cell if you don’t.”

  She saw the bravado seep out of him like a balloon with a leak. His shoulders slouched and his eyes registered defeat.

  “They threw me out of the army because I got hooked on drugs.” He hung his head and, for the first time, he looked as if he was truly feeling remorse. “I’ve got a bad habit. I’ve tried to kick it but I can’t. Sometimes when I’m high I hate myself. I get angry. Lose control.” His voice dropped. “Hit my wife.” He looked back and forth between them. “You think I want to hit her? I love Cathleen.”

  “Love, huh? Funny way of showing it, with your fists.” Sal shook his head and made a sound of disgust.

  “Where were you Monday, Mr. Trent?” Liz saw telltale glistening in his eyes and, for a moment, truly felt empathy for the man who had once been an exemplary soldier and was now a hard-core addict.

  “I left work because I needed a fix.” He looked up and self-loathing registered in his eyes. “I got what I needed.”

  Liz threw a hard stare his way. She didn’t know yet what she was going to do with Danny Trent—or if she was looking at the sniper who had tried to kill her.

  * * *

  Liz glanced at her watch. Eight o’clock. Total darkness surrounded her, the headlights of he
r car the only illumination on the dirt road. The trees on either side stood like shadowed sentinels and blocked her view of the starlit evening sky. That deep-rooted uneasiness raised its ugly head and skittered along her spine.

  Why had Adam insisted on bringing the boy back here? She understood that it was part of therapy, part of familiarity, structure and routine for Jeremy. But at what cost? The house sat smack-dab in the middle of the woods. Neighbors few and far between. A security nightmare. This was crazy. Why on earth had she gone against her own instincts and allowed it?

  A wave of relief washed over her when she spotted the lights of the house through the trees. For a split second, she felt she was coming home, not to the house, but to the people inside—to Adam and Jeremy and even Charlie and Rerun—and it caused a deeper uneasiness than even the darkened woods.

  She parked at the side of the house.

  Paul must have heard her car. He was standing on the porch as she got out of her car and approached the house.

  “Quiet on the home front, Paul?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thanks, Paul. I’m sorry I’m so late. You must be hungry. You can leave now. Grab yourself some dinner and have a good night.”

  “Oh, I’m not hungry, ma’am. Adam fixed us a big dinner.”

  “Adam cooked dinner?”

  “Yep. Haven’t had home cooking like that since I visited my mom in June. I’m stuffed.” His face split into a wide grin and he patted his stomach.

  “Really? Somehow I didn’t picture Dr. Morgan as a great cook.”

  “Take my word for it, ma’am. He is. There was nothing but empty plates and full stomachs around that table.”

  Liz chuckled. “Good. I’m glad you didn’t have to starve to death waiting for me to get back. You can leave now. Get a good night’s rest. And thanks, Paul.”

  “No problem, Sheriff. Anytime you need someone to pull supper detail, you can call on me.”

  “That’s good to know.” She watched her deputy pull away and then let herself into the house. Immediately she punched in the security code on the pad inside the door so she wouldn’t set off the alarm.