Silent Witness

by Diane Burke

  That thought sobered Liz instantly. “Speaking of Rerun, where is he? And how is Jeremy?”

  “Jeremy’s fine. He’s asleep in your bed and Rerun is spread out on top of him.” Charlie smiled at her. “I think you’ll be more comfortable if you sleep somewhere else tonight. I’m willing to share my room.”

  “Thanks for the offer but I don’t expect to be getting much sleep tonight. I think I’ll bunk on the couch.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  Both women threw a questioning glance Adam’s way.

  “We’re packing up and moving out. Right now.”

  TEN

  “Where are we going?” Charlie sat down next to Adam.

  “We’re moving to a safe house. And we have to do it quickly before that nutcase comes back here in time to follow us to our new location or, worse, tries something else.”

  “What are you talking about? We’re not going anywhere.” Liz rose, planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You’re the one who insisted that we move back here. You said it was important for Jeremy’s mental health to return to the scene of the crime. We’ve been here five days and now you think you’re going to uproot him again. I don’t think so.”

  Adam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Look, Liz. It’s the only safe and rational thing to do. Charlie’s right. There were three adults in this house and, still, he got into Jeremy’s room unobserved. We might not be so lucky next time.”

  “So, what do you have in mind? If you want me to get Jeremy placed in the witness protection program, I’m going to need some time to make the arrangements. We can’t just pack up, knock on a federal marshal’s door, and say, ‘Here we are.’”

  Liz chewed on her lower lip. Ouch. What a lousy way to break a habit, but maybe this swollen lip would turn out to be a good thing after all. She looked at Adam again.

  “Will Jeremy be okay emotionally if we move him this quickly?” She searched his face, looking for assurances she knew he couldn’t give in his expression. “I thought you said he needed to be in familiar surroundings to heal. Were you wrong?”

  Adam ignored her underlying question. “I wasn’t wrong, Liz. Since communication is such a difficult thing for Jeremy, it was important for him to return to his home, sleep in his own bed, and slowly start to realize his parents weren’t here and weren’t going to be. Ideally, I would have liked to stay here for another few weeks. But Jeremy’s safety has become top priority.

  “Familiarity will be the key to a successful transition. Now that Charlie’s staying on a few more days, that will help, too. We’ll keep the same people around him. Bring his things. His computer. His bear. Stick as close as possible to his daily schedule. Rerun will do the rest.”

  Charlie stood. “While you two are ironing out the particulars, I’m going to start packing Jeremy’s things.”

  They watched her leave and then Liz turned her attention back to Adam.

  “We can’t just pick up in the middle of the night and disappear.”

  “Why not?”

  “For a thousand reasons. Do you realize how difficult it was to get a remote office set up here? My team, not to mention Davenport and his men, will have a fit if I switch locations again.”

  “You won’t be. You’ll move back to your office in town and conduct business as usual.”

  “That’s impossible. I won’t be able to protect Jeremy from town.”

  “You weren’t able to protect Jeremy here.”

  His words hit her with the force of a physical blow. He was right. She’d failed. Big-time.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Lizzie.” He spoke as if he could read her mind. “None of us did. But the killer knows this house, its layout. He knew exactly where Jeremy would be and how to gain access to him.

  “The killer didn’t get all of that from one time inside when he was committing homicide. He’s been back. He must have been sitting in those woods and watching us for days because he knew our routine. We only turn the security alarm off twice each evening, once when Charlie takes Rerun out for his final run and, again, when your relief shows up and you do the final perimeter walk. He made his move during one of those times.”

  Liz digested this information and had to agree with his take on things.

  “So, what do you have in mind?”

  “I bought a property on the outskirts of town, a large six-bedroom home sitting on ten acres of farmland.”

  “The old Granger estate?”

  Adam nodded.

  “No one’s lived there for years.”

  “Exactly. That’s why it’s the perfect place to hide. I rented a room from old Mrs. Willowby over her general store when I moved back to town so I’d have a place to stay while I did some renovations out there. I haven’t spoken about the project to anyone. There’s no reason for anyone to tie me to the property. Since it’s been empty for years, I doubt whether anyone will have any reason to think about looking out there, either.”

  Liz started to see the wisdom of his proposal. It just might work.

  “I’ll go upstairs and tell the men. They can help us with the move.”

  “No.” Adam placed a hand on her arm. “You can’t tell anyone, Liz. Not one single word. We have to just disappear. Period. It’s the only way I can be sure that we will be safe.”

  “But I have to tell my team—”

  “No one, Liz. That would be a deal breaker. This whole idea hinges on secrecy.”

  “I can’t protect Jeremy by myself, Adam, particularly if I’m going back to work in town. I need my team and Davenport’s men to help.”

  “We won’t need protection if nobody knows where we are.”

  “You can’t be sure of that.”

  “Think about it, Liz. If only three people know where Jeremy is—and those three people are one hundred per cent invested in saving Jeremy’s life—then I think that is the safest situation you can get. Three people. You. Charlie. Me. What can go wrong? Can you guarantee me anything safer than that?”

  “What about the killer? You didn’t put him in the equation.”

  “Yes, I did. He was here tonight. He tried to snatch Jeremy. You chased him on foot and he took off in a car. At this moment, we know he’s not here watching. We can be pretty sure he’ll come back. But if we move now, right now, he won’t be able to watch or follow. He’ll have no idea where we are.”

  Liz wasn’t comfortable with this idea. But the more she listened to Adam, the more it made sense. There was no reason for anyone to connect Adam to the old Granger estate. They’d be safer there than anywhere else she could think of at the moment. And if she could return to town, she’d be able to assist more with the ongoing investigations. Maybe they could speed things up and end this nightmare sooner. It was unorthodox. Sure. But she was the sheriff and she made the rules. Heaven help her, but it was starting to sound like a feasible plan.

  Adam dropped his hold on her arm. “If we’re going to do this, we have to move fast. You have to get rid of Sal and Paul. Now. They can’t know we’re leaving.”

  She shot a troubled glance Adam’s way. He was asking her to make a split-second decision. And it wasn’t a simple decision, like what vegetable should they have for dinner? This was a drastic step. Not one she would normally even consider. Whatever choice she made would have long-lasting effects on a small boy’s life.

  Liz turned the idea over and over in her mind. She had always run things by the book, followed the rules just like her father had taught her. No one would ever expect her to sanction this idea—and that might be the very reason it could work.

  Adam’s eyes locked with hers in an intense, steady stare. “Trust me.”

  Trust him?

  Dear Lord, I trusted him once with my heart and he shattered it into a million pieces. Do I dare trust him again—this time with my life and the life of that innocent child? Help me make the right decision, Lord.

  Liz closed her eyes and took a minute to be still and think. When s
he opened them again, she knew they were filled with an optimism she hadn’t felt in a long time. She looked at Adam and nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  * * *

  Back at the station, Liz sat at the head of the conference table and watched the members of the investigation team take their places “Thank you, everyone, for being so flexible with all the changes that I’ve thrown your way in the past two weeks. Hopefully, this should be the last of them.”

  “So, what’s going on, boss?” Sal asked.

  “Dr. Morgan and Jeremy have left town so I will be assuming my duties here.”

  A murmur of voices traveled the table.

  “Define ‘left town’?” Davenport asked.

  “Just what I said. They’re gone. We don’t have to worry about protecting them anymore.” She turned her attention to the sergeant. “I want to thank you and your men, Frank, for the extra watch details. I appreciate all your efforts, but we won’t be needing your men anymore.”

  “Where did they go, Sheriff? Everybody was there plain as day last night.” Paul shot her a puzzled look.

  “Their whereabouts are unimportant. They’re safe. What matters now is this investigation.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Sal looked troubled. “You’re not going to tell us where Morgan took the kid? How do you know you can trust him?”

  “I just know.”

  “Why? Because he proved to be so trustworthy in the past?”

  Liz flinched at his words. Of course, it made sense that Sal would have snooped around in Adam’s background. He would have wanted to know the connection between his sheriff and the new doctor in town.

  “Jeremy is still a patient in Dr. Morgan’s care. He has accepted full responsibility for Jeremy’s welfare. That’s good enough for me.” Liz flipped open the folder in front of her, shifted through some papers and moved one to the top. “Frank, what were the lab results?”

  Davenport took her cue to drop the subject of the boy’s location. “The toxicology report showed no sign of drugs. Autopsy results showed no track marks or physical evidence of prior drug use, either.”

  Liz nodded and moved on.

  “Darlene, any luck with the video surveillance tapes?”

  “No, Sheriff. Neither of them showed up on any of the tapes.”

  “Well, a sizable bag of cocaine doesn’t hide itself under a bedroom mattress. There has to be a connection somewhere and we need to find it,” Liz said.

  “I thought Henderson might be selling coke, but that didn’t pan out.” Sal flipped through his own file folder. “I took a look at their financials. No unexplained deposits. Some debt but nothing out of the norm.”

  “Darlene and I took a look at Mr. Henderson’s company books.” Paul spoke for both of them. “His business was in the black and profits were steadily climbing.”

  “Well, the books might not be cooked, but there were a couple of little bumps within the business,” Tom said.

  All eyes turned his way.

  “Henderson’s only been in business since January and he’s already fired two employees. Chad Richards was caught red-handed dipping into the petty cash box. I looked him up. He moved out of town right after the incident. Left a line of bill collectors in his wake. Doubt he’ll show his face in this town anytime soon.”

  “Good job, Tom. And the other man?” Liz asked, taking notes as he spoke.

  “That would be Eddie Simms. He’s worth a second look. Seems the guy has an anger management problem. Mouthed off one too many times with customers and Henderson let him go.

  “Now, here’s where it gets interesting. Eddie Simms is a gun nut. I followed up and ran a check on gun permits. Even hit a pawn shop or two in town about recent sales and had me some pretty interesting conversations. Eddie owns a cabin down by the lake filled with enough fire power to supply a small army. His weapon of choice—a high-powered rifle.”

  Tension in the room increased with this new information.

  “Good going, Miller. Other than the wife beater, who I still think is a good candidate for last week’s sniper attack, even if you don’t,” Sal said, throwing a telling glance at Liz, “I’d say this guy just became person of interest number two. Maybe he likes hunting patrol cars in his spare time.”

  Liz turned her attention to Sal. “Progress report on the dealer murder?”

  “The security camera behind Smitty’s bar was destroyed right about the time of the murder.”

  “Coincidental, wouldn’t you say?” Davenport shifted in his chair. “Let me guess. Nothing useful on the film.”

  “You’d win that bet.” Sal doodled on the outside of a file folder. “Smitty taped over that night before I could get to him.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Better luck next time.” Davenport glanced at his watch and stood. “Have to run. Call me if you need anything else, Sheriff. Good luck with the investigation.”

  “Thanks, Frank, for all your help.” Liz stood and shook his hand.

  Once he was gone, she focused her attention back to her team.

  “Okay. We have two suspects with high-powered rifles, good motives, but nothing to tie either one of them to any of the crimes. We have no suspects. No witnesses. No connection between our dead drug dealer and the Hendersons. Which still doesn’t explain the cocaine we found hidden beneath Henderson’s mattress.”

  Liz sighed heavily and looked at Sal. “But you think you might have a lead?”

  “Might, boss. But nothing solid enough to share yet.”

  “Keep me in the loop.” She took a swig of her coffee. “Tom, I want you to take another run at Grimes and that bank teller he’s sleeping with. I want to know the real reason Grimes and Henderson fought. And attack their alibis. I want more than them stating they were with each other.”

  “I’m on it, Sheriff.”

  Liz stood and braced her fists on the table. “Jeremy saw what happened that night. I’d stake my badge on it. The good news is he’s starting to talk. It’s only a matter of time before he says something we can use.”

  “He is? That’s terrific, Sheriff.” Darlene clapped her hands together. “That little boy is such a doll. I’m so happy he’s starting to get better.”

  “If he says anything, will it hold up in court?” Sal asked.

  “I thought you said these kind of kids can’t talk,” Tom said.

  Liz raised her hand in a halting motion. “I’ll worry about the information standing up in court after I find out who the bad guy is, Sal. Yes, Darlene, it is wonderful that the boy is beginning to recover from that horrible night. And yes, Tom, this boy can not only talk but I, for one, plan to listen when he does.” Liz made eye contact with each one of them. “Meanwhile, it’s just the five of us. Our team standing between a small boy and death. Let’s get back out there and find us a bad guy.”

  * * *

  He opened the front door and threw his keys in the glass bowl on the credenza. He kicked off his boots and left them at the front door. Then he walked through the master bedroom and straight into the bathroom. He removed the bandage from his side, lifted his shirt and studied his body in the wall-to-wall mirror over the double sinks.

  The puncture wound was ugly, deep and red. It had taken him almost an hour to get it to stop bleeding. He’d had to pack the thing with gauze and tape it tight. He took the gauze out and winced at the pain. Tenderly he touched the edges of the wound. The surrounding skin was mottled, swollen and sore to the touch. He slathered more antiseptic cream on the area and placed clean gauze across the site.

  He’d been lucky last night. His face mask and thick gloves had protected him from getting more than a sting or two from those tree branches as he raced through the woods. He hadn’t expected the sheriff to catch him in the act and give chase. She was surprisingly fast moving through the dark woods with nothing more than moonlight to light her way. At least he’d had a small flashlight helping him see the path at his feet. She’d almost caught up with him, too. He couldn’t afford to take another
chance like that one.

  He taped the gauze in place, lowered his shirt and took a good, hard look at the reflection staring back at him. His eyes were puffy. His cheeks had retracted and he was starting to look a bit gaunt. Wonder if anybody noticed. If they did, maybe they’d just think he was getting sick or something.

  He washed a hand over his face.

  When was this all going to end? How in the world had he let it start? If he could turn back time, he’d never have touched those drugs in the first place. What had he been thinking?

  He hadn’t. He’d been reacting to his feelings. He’d been in pain…and lonely…and angry. The opportunity to escape, to forget for just a little while, presented itself. And then everything mushroomed out of control.

  He’d been doing good last night. He’d almost cleared the woods, skirting his way through the brush like a pro. Until he lost his balance and that one lone, stupid stick jabbed right into his side. It hurt like the dickens, too.

  But not as much as the sheriff’s face must be hurting. He saw her going into the police station this morning and he almost doubled over laughing when he got a look at that shiner and swollen lip. That would teach her. Stupid woman.

  He’d made a really dumb mistake last night. He should have just killed the boy when he’d had the chance. But he wasn’t sure that the boy had seen him that night. He didn’t want another death on his conscience, particularly a kid’s, unless he had no choice. He’d never intended to kill anyone in the first place.

  He figured he’d snatch the kid and find out what he knew. If the boy recognized him, he’d get rid of him. If he didn’t recognize him, he’d drop the kid in front of a hospital or firehouse or something.

  Look how disastrous that turned out.

  He’d slipped back to the house at first light only to find the place empty and everyone gone. Now he didn’t have a clue where they went.