Witness in the Dark

by Allison B Hanson

  She headed over to greet her customer, who had pulled a menu from the holder. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  He ordered a beer, and she hurried off to get it. It wasn’t uncommon that a good-looking man came into the restaurant, but this was the first time since her relationship status had changed.

  She let out a sigh, remembering she was now single. At some point, she would have to go through the effort of dating again. Had she been with Lance longer than she should have because she hated dating? Surely, she should be more upset over the breakup than she was. Even with the other incident from the night before—which she was not thinking about.

  The man ran a hand through his dark hair and smiled as she walked to his table. “Are you waiting for someone, or were you ready to order?”

  “I’m alone. Unless you’d like to join me.” His blue eyes crinkled when he grinned, and two dimples appeared.

  She might have said yes, but she’d already taken a break.

  Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t have said yes.

  “Sorry.” She indicated the black apron around her waist. “This doesn’t come off for another two hours.”

  He nodded and considered the laminated menu. “I hear the cheesesteaks are good. That true?”

  “Everything is good here.” She smiled flirtatiously. Not something she would normally do…but the guy was hot. Really hot.

  Damn. She was so out of practice.

  After dropping off his order with Anthony, she cleared the table her last customer had vacated, and gathered up the ketchup bottles onto a tray. Usually she took care of the refills at the table by the kitchen, but tonight she decided to sit at the table across from Mr. Blue-Eyes.

  “I heard there was a lot of action here last night,” the man said.

  She swallowed and wished she’d sat in the back, after all. “Yes.”

  “Were you working?” he asked as he played with a stack of sugar packets.

  Was he a reporter? Anthony had said there’d been a number of them visiting today. This man didn’t look like a reporter. Not with his leather coat and gray T-shirt. Rather than deal with having to recount the story, she shook her head.

  Anthony shouted, “Order up,” and she went to get it, happy for the distraction.

  She set the man’s food in front of him, then had to answer the phone for a takeout order. When things were settled, she came back to sit at the table across from his to finish the ketchup. She’d filled two bottles when he spoke.

  “Are we allowed to talk, at least?” he asked before taking a big bite of his sandwich.

  “Sure.” She shrugged like she chatted up hot guys every day. “Are you from around here?”

  “No.”

  She hid her irrational disappointment. The guy was way out of her league, anyway. What did it matter if he didn’t live here? He would eat his meal and go back to wherever he came from, and she would go home to Nikki and a bottle of tequila.

  “Are you from here originally?” he asked.

  “No.” She didn’t elaborate since he hadn’t. They weren’t on a date. They were just keeping each other company.

  “My name’s Garrett.”

  “Sam. Samantha.” She changed it up, thinking her real name sounded sexier…or at least more mature.

  “Sam Samantha?” His grin was adorable.

  She missed the bottle she was pouring ketchup into and it ran down her hand. She gave up on sexy, as she wiped off the mess. “No. Just Sam.”

  “Well, Just Sam, what do you do when you’re not working at the place with the best cheesesteaks in the world?” He took another bite.

  There wasn’t much to say. Her day job was rather dull, but since she’d paid a lot of money for her degree, she’d felt the need to use it. Still, it sounded rather boring.

  “I’m an artist,” she said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She’d wanted to be an artist, and she still messed around with her sketchbook.

  He sipped his beer and studied her. “Really?”

  She didn’t appreciate the doubtful tone in his voice, so she embellished a little. “Yes. I have a piece at the Hirshhorn Museum.”

  Okay, maybe she’d embellished a lot. But it worked. That smirk fell right off his face.

  He nodded his approval. “Wow. Your parents must be really proud.”

  She focused on the ketchup. She didn’t want to tell him her sad story. Besides, she’d already veered off course with the truth. She would never see him again, so why not use the opportunity to reinvent herself a little? Didn’t she deserve a break from reality after last night?

  “Oh, yes. My whole family can’t stop talking about it.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “You have a big family?”

  “Yep. My dad’s a fireman. My mother is a nurse, and I’m the oldest of four brothers and sisters.” She’d always wanted brothers and sisters. If her father hadn’t died before she was born, she might have had some.

  She indicated his empty glass, silently asking if he wanted a refill.

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  For the next half hour, they chatted and laughed. But after taking a moment to help the customer who came in to pick up their pizza, she returned to the table to find it empty.

  Garrett was gone.

  “Seriously?” she muttered. It wasn’t just that he’d stiffed her on the bill, but she’d been having a nice time on her un-date.

  Whatever.

  She trudged down the hall to the back room where they kept the pizza box flats so she could work on those. She’d cover Garrett’s food out of her tips so Anthony wouldn’t get mad. Her boss would give anyone the shirt off his back, but he hated stealing.

  She was halfway down the dimly lit hall when Garrett stepped out of the restroom, making her jump.

  “Shit! You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” He put his hand on her arm to steady her as she worked to catch her breath.

  The task was made more difficult by his touch. His large hand was warm on her skin, and he didn’t seem in a hurry to remove it.

  They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then, he leaned down and kissed her. As if it was a completely normal thing to do when passing someone in a hall.

  If she’d thought his touch was warm, his lips were like fire, sending heat through her entire body, hitting all the good spots. She wound her arms around his neck. His tongue moved in, and she opened to him.

  After a few blissful moments, she came to her senses. What the hell was she doing?

  She didn’t pull away, exactly, but she let the kiss fade off.

  He got the hint and backed off, a smile on his face. “Can I come back when your shift is over? Maybe we could go get a drink?”

  Her mouth opened to say yes before her brain had a chance to think about it, but at the last second she stood back and shook her head. Not only had she made plans with Nikki, but she didn’t know this man from Adam. She didn’t know anything about him but his name. Even though they’d spent time talking, he hadn’t really shared anything about himself. He’d kept the conversation focused on her. Which was a bit weird. What guy didn’t like talking about himself?

  Besides, he might be a serial killer, and she’d had enough of senseless murder for one lifetime, thank you very much.

  “Sorry. I can’t. I have plans,” she told him.

  He actually looked disappointed. “Oh. Okay.”

  His gaze fell to her lips and she thought he might kiss her again. She may have even have hoped he would. But instead, he nodded once and turned to go back to his table.

  It felt awkward to hand him the check and meet him at the register when they’d just shared that amazing kiss in the hall. Her lips still tingled.

  He paid his bill and smiled. “Thanks for keeping me company. Have a nice night.”

  “You, too.”

  He paused at the table to drop a generous tip, and walked out of the restaurant.

  Did serial killers tip? Probably not.

 
With a large pang of regret, she went back to work, wondering what might have happened if she’d taken him up on his offer.

  “Why don’t you head out?” Anthony said later when she had prepped everything for the next day.

  She still had twenty minutes left of her shift, but she was exhausted and wanted to go home to bed. She thanked him, then pulled out her phone and texted Nikki an apology for having to cancel their plans.

  “Good night,” she called to Anthony as she left through the front door. The night air hit her, causing a shiver, and she wished she hadn’t left her jacket in the car.

  She was parked only two blocks away and had scored a spot right next to a streetlight. She usually never thought about stuff like that—but that was before she’d seen what could happen up close.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she picked up her pace, feeling as if someone were watching her. She’d crossed an alleyway only half a block from her car when she spotted movement next to it.

  Two men were messing with her car. She froze momentarily as one of them bent down by her rear tire.

  Her heartbeat kicked up, and she quickly ducked into the alley to hide. Unfortunately, not before the second man noticed her.

  He kicked the first guy as his eyes widened. “Eddie, it’s her.”

  Both men turned toward her.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  She didn’t have time to think; she just ran.

  She threw a trash can in their way and sprinted down the alley. Fortunately, someone unlocked a vehicle close by, and the beep forced the men to walk slower so as not to call attention to themselves.

  She was about to yell for help when a hand clamped down on her mouth and she was pulled between a building and the fence.

  Something cold pressed against her temple.

  A gun.

  Oh my God. Her pulse took off and she prepared to fight.

  “Quiet,” a deep, calm voice ordered from behind her. The gun was cold as ice as it moved along her temple.

  Oh, God. This is it. She was going to be shot in an alley.

  Just like Heather.

  Chapter Six

  Though more than a little annoyed with the woman, U.S. Deputy Marshal Senior Inspector Garrett McKendrick concentrated on the task of getting Samantha Hutchinson out of that alley without either of them getting killed.

  “When I say so, get ready to run,” he whispered and moved the gun away from her head. Threatening someone with a gun was the easiest way to get their attention, regardless of whether or not he planned to actually shoot them.

  He pulled her against him so he could peek out around her—and caught her scent. Like vanilla and pizza. Two of his favorite scents. He’d noticed when he kissed her.

  “Ready? Go.”

  He grasped her hand, shoved her out into the alley, and tugged her along with him. Thankfully, she stayed close, especially when the bullets started whizzing past their heads.

  “Oh, God! They’re shooting at me!”

  Yes, they were shooting at her. But she held it together and kept running.

  She gasped when he raised his gun to fire back at the assholes who were chasing them. The men ducked behind some barrels, and he dragged her along behind him again.

  “Please. I don’t want to die in an alley,” she whimpered.

  He couldn’t say as he blamed her. He didn’t want to die, either. There, or anywhere else.

  After firing off another shot, he busted in a door that opened into the alley and pushed her through it, then blocked it from the inside with a chair. The space was pitch black and smelled of some chemical he couldn’t quite place.

  He felt her breath on his face and the warmth of her skin where he grasped her arm to shove her forward. She squealed as she brushed up against something that made a rustling sound.

  “Shh,” he ordered. He moved in front of her and pulled instead of pushed. She stumbled and tripped a few times in the darkness, and yelped again, but he tightened his grip, reminding her to be quiet.

  “Please let me go. Please,” she begged, her voice weak and thready.

  It would be just his luck if she passed out. People had many different responses to fear—some people fought while others lost consciousness. He looked her over briefly, gauging how long he could carry her if she fainted. Probably pretty long. She was kind of scrawny.

  A sliver of light came in through a high window and he glanced around. They were in the back of a dry-cleaning establishment.

  “I don’t have a lot of money. What do you want?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer. He kept pulling her through the racks toward the other side of the building. She shivered when he opened the door and peered out to make sure it was safe.

  Why didn’t she have a coat? It was the middle of October and freezing out. She needed a coat, but he couldn’t take the time to give her his. She’d have to deal with it for now.

  Out in the next alley, he wasn’t expecting her to come to a dead stop, and he almost lost his grip on her.

  “I’ll scream,” she threatened.

  Two could play that game. “I’ll knock you out and throw you over my shoulder if you don’t keep up.”

  Thankfully, his threat made her hurry. She was moving so fast their feet tangled, and he accidentally stepped on her foot. “Sorry.”

  The light from the street lamp blinded him temporarily as he pulled her across the street into another alley. There was a car speeding toward them, so he tugged her into another building after kicking out the door lock.

  As before, he blocked the door behind them with a chair, and led her into a small waiting area. There was a security light at the end of a narrow hallway covered in worn, red carpet. As they passed a few glass doors, he saw names written on them.

  magistrate. district justice.

  He pulled her through one of the doors that wasn’t glass, locked it, and flipped on a light. It was a small, windowless office. They couldn’t see out, which meant no one could see in.

  It was a safe place to take shelter until help arrived.

  He hoped.

  She turned to him as he tucked his gun in the back of his waistband. His chest heaved as he caught his breath. “You okay?”

  Her fiery green eyes homed in on him, and for a second, he almost wished she would have fainted.

  “Garrett? What the hell?”

  Chapter Seven

  Sam glared at her captor. The same the man she’d served a cheesesteak and talked to for nearly an hour. The same man she’d kissed.

  Shit. He really was a serial killer.

  Why hadn’t she ignored his sexy blue eyes?

  Garrett had put his gun away, but she knew it was still there. At least he wasn’t pressing it to her head anymore.

  Anger swept through her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Saving your ass,” he answered hotly. “It would’ve been a lot easier if you’d just agreed to go for drinks with me.”

  Her jaw dropped incredulously. “Right. I should have been more considerate and made it easier for you to abduct and murder me.” She lurched for the door.

  He stepped in front of it and shook his head. “No one’s getting murdered, I assure you. At least, not by me. Though, no guarantees after the tune-up those guys gave your car,” he informed her as he took out a phone and hit the screen a few times.

  “What do you mean?”

  Instead of using words, he spread his fingers wide to indicate an explosion. “Boom.”

  “A bomb? Those guys put a bomb in my car?” Her voice rose.

  “Not a bomb exactly, but they cut your fuel line and set an igniter. It would’ve looked like an accident.”

  He lifted a finger at her to wait while he spoke into his phone. “I have her. We’re locked down at Location C. Send a team. I saw two, so probably four.” He paused and looked her over. “She’s unharmed. Shaken up a bit.”

  That was an understatement.

  When he hung up, she asked, �
�Why would they want to blow up my car?”

  “To kill you.”

  She swallowed at his bluntness. No shit. She’d understood that part. “But why me?”

  “You saw something you shouldn’t have, I assume.”

  The events of the previous night flooded back in startling detail. “Yeah.”

  “What did you see?”

  “You don’t know?” She frowned. “Who do you work for?” It was obvious from the phone call he was reporting to someone.

  “The U.S. Marshals.”

  She relaxed slightly at that, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe she’d been conditioned to think people in the government were safe. Obviously, not all of them were.

  “I saw Congressman Howe shoot a woman. Murder her in cold blood.”

  Garrett leveled her a gaze. “And you told the police.”

  “Of course I told the police. That’s what you do when you see someone shoot another person.”

  “And what happened with the cops?”

  “They didn’t believe me. They had another guy who fit.”

  “Isn’t that convenient,” Garrett mused.

  “I knew it wasn’t that guy. I saw Ashton Howe. I know it was him.” It would be easier to believe what the detective had told her, and she really wanted to, but she knew it wasn’t true.

  “And that is the reason we’re here hiding right now, and people were shooting at you.”

  “Oh, God,” she said as Nikki’s voice echoed in her head. What if he comes after you to shut you up? It all made sense now. “What am I going to do?”

  “As I said, it would’ve been a whole lot easier if you’d left with me when I suggested it.”

  “You kissed me,” she pointed out. He claimed to be there to help her. But kissing her? Had that been part of the job?

  “It’s easier to protect you if I’m close.”

  “How close were you intending to get if I’d gone with you?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s not too late to find out.” He left her hanging for a second, then laughed. “Kidding. Relax.”

  Her lips started to quiver and she felt the sting of tears. “Relax? People are trying to kill me.”