The Only Witness

by Laura Scott

  “Someone came around the side of the house, then hit my car with a bullet.”

  Mike scowled. “So there were either two gunmen or the guy in the back slid around to the front.”

  “There were two guys that came after us at the restaurant,” Miles told him. “Could be the same ones. Their car is registered to Sci-Tech.”

  Mike let out a low whistle. “So, why search your place? Do they think Jason left something there? Did Jason mail you something?”

  Miles smacked his forehead. “My PO box.”

  “What about it?” His brother looked confused.

  Miles couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. “My schedule is so erratic, I rent a PO box at the post office rather than have my mail delivered. If Jason did send me something, it would be at the post office.”

  “Do you want me to go and check?” Mike asked.

  Miles hesitated, wanting to head over there himself. He glanced at Paige, and she must have read his expression because she waved her hand.

  “Go ahead. We’ll be fine.”

  He pulled out his keys, his gaze never leaving her face. “I won’t be gone long, especially if there’s nothing important in there.”

  “I know.” Paige’s smile was strained, but she seemed sincere. “Abby’s busy with her show, so this is a good time to go.”

  “I’ll keep them safe,” Mike promised, patting his shoulder holster so that Miles knew he was carrying. “Just hurry up, okay? I have other things I need to do.”

  “Thanks.” Miles shut the computer then headed out the door to Garrett’s truck.

  He’d be back before Abby even realized he was gone.

  * * *

  The moment the motel room door shut behind Miles, Paige wanted to run over and open it, begging him not to go. She did her best to swallow her fear and attempted a reassuring smile, so Abby wouldn’t become upset.

  “Good movie, huh, Abby?” She sat on the edge of the bed, giving her daughter a brief hug.

  Distracted by the animation, Abby simply nodded.

  Paige had wondered if the constant silence would wear on the little girl to the point where she would finally speak, but so far, that hadn’t happened. Of course, running from more gunfire just two hours ago probably hadn’t helped.

  She stared down at her daughter’s soft brown hair, wishing there was a way to seek professional help for her, sooner rather than later. How much damage to the little girl’s psyche had already been done? She had no idea but prayed it was only temporary.

  Obviously they needed to remain safe, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t investigate child therapy options.

  Miles had left his computer behind, so Paige slid off the bed and crossed over to where Michael was seated. Intently scrolling through his phone, he glanced up in surprise when he realized she was standing there.

  “I’d like to use the computer a bit, see if I can find a child psychologist for Abby.”

  Michael frowned and shoved a lank of hair from his face. He wore his hair longer than Miles and she found herself thinking that while both men were handsome, Miles was far more attractive. He shrugged. “You’re welcome to use the computer, but you need to keep a low profile until we find the gunmen.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. “You don’t understand. Abby is traumatized. She hasn’t spoken a word since all of this started. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

  Michael grimaced. “Trust me, I do understand. I feel bad for your little girl. But think about the fact that the bad guys could try to find you by staking out the child psychologists closest to your home. Or say you did take Abby in for a session, then we have to go on the move again. It’s better for you both to wait until this is over.”

  It hadn’t occurred to her that the assailants might try to stake out the child psychologists closest to her home on the chance she and Abby would show up there. The idea made her cringe. Maybe Michael was right, and she needed to wait until the danger passed.

  “I’d still like to use the computer.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, but dropped into the seat and squashed a flash of guilt as she typed in Miles’s password, the one he probably didn’t realize she’d watched him enter, then used the search engine to research Sci-Tech.

  The main number showed up on the computer screen, along with the address. The company wasn’t too far from her home—its close proximity had been one of the main reasons she and Travis had purchased the place.

  The main number hadn’t changed, and she quickly programmed the number for Sci-Tech into her disposable phone. She wanted to call now, but knew it would be better to wait until the end of the day.

  Ralph Gerlach was one of the second shift security guards, old enough to be her father, yet he’d always been friendly toward her. Paige had gotten the impression that Ralph might have known something about Travis and his other women and had felt sorry for her. She appreciated Ralph’s friendship, too, since most of the staff at Sci-Tech had seemed to avoid her. Being married to the director of Research and Development hadn’t worked in her favor. Travis was the kind of boss that most people hated, dictatorial and judgmental, riding his staff hard, pushing them to do better. As a result, that dislike had transferred over to her.

  Except with a select few, like Ralph.

  If Ralph happened to be scheduled to work today, she might be able to pry a little information out of him. At the very least, she hoped Ralph could tell her the last time Travis had been in to work. Maybe Ralph would also give her an inkling as to what might be going on, like if the upper echelon was worried about anything, like ACE, their largest competitor, or about Travis and Jason.

  Something that big would likely find its way down to the frontline staff.

  She typed Ralph’s name into the online directory, wondering if it was possible he might still have a landline at home. Most people only used cell phones these days, but she knew there were some within the older generation who didn’t.

  Sure enough, she hit pay dirt and was able to find an address and a phone number for Ralph and Alison Gerlach in the directory. Their home was located within ten miles of Sci-Tech, so she figured there was a good chance she had the right couple. Bypassing Sci-Tech and contacting Ralph at home would be even better.

  She entered Ralph’s phone number into her phone, then closed the computer and disappeared into the bathroom for some privacy. She called Ralph and was disappointed when the call went straight to voice mail.

  After hesitating for a long moment, she disconnected from the line, deciding against leaving a message. The hour was still pretty early. If Ralph had worked second shift last night, he might not be up and about yet.

  She’d try again, maybe around lunchtime. And if that didn’t pan out, then she’d try calling Sci-Tech after three in the afternoon to see if she could catch Ralph at work.

  Paige tucked her phone into the pocket of her jeans, determined to do something in an attempt to help find Travis.

  * * *

  The post office was located about two miles from his home. Miles drove past it, keeping a keen eye on the cars behind him. He hadn’t been followed from the motel, but he couldn’t deny the slim chance that someone might have picked him up once he’d gotten closer to his place.

  Remembering how his home had been thoroughly searched made him angry all over again. The more he thought about it, the more he leaned toward the theory that whoever had killed Jason believed Miles knew something. He only hoped that this trip to the post office wouldn’t be in vain. He wanted, needed to figure out what was going on to keep Paige and Abby safe from harm.

  Somewhere along the line, keeping them safe was becoming more important than finding the man responsible for his buddy’s death.

  After pulling into the small parking lot, he slid out from behind the wheel of
Garrett’s truck and walked inside the building. From what he could tell no one paid him any attention, but rather than heading straight for the PO box, he walked over to the wall where all the postal supplies were sold. He stood for several long minutes in front of the various padded envelopes and boxes as if debating whether to purchase shipping and packing supplies.

  Customers lined up to wait for their turn, and he subtly watched them for a few minutes, his cop radar on high alert.

  When several customers left and only one more joined the line, Miles turned away from the shipping supplies and walked over to the rows and rows of PO boxes. His was one of the larger ones, big enough for package deliveries, and he found himself holding his breath as he used the key to access the box.

  His jaw dropped in surprise when he saw a thick yellow padded envelope about the size of a paperback novel inside the box. Removing it, his pulse jumped when he realized that the return address was for the house in Madison that he’d once shared with Jason and two other guys while they’d attended college.

  No name, just the Madison address.

  Jason hadn’t lived in Madison after graduation, any more than Miles had. Using their old address was obviously Jason’s way of letting Miles know the package was from him. Peering at the date, his gut clenched when he realized the envelope had been postmarked yesterday, the day of Jason’s murder. As if his buddy had known that the bad guys were after him and wanted to be sure to leave clues behind for Miles as a precautionary measure.

  There was other mail in the box, as well, and he quickly sorted through it, making sure there was nothing else from Jason inside. There wasn’t, so he tucked the yellow padded envelope under his leather jacket, hiding it from view, then relocked the box.

  Walking slowly outside and along the sidewalk toward the truck as if he didn’t have a care in the world wasn’t easy. It almost seemed as if he were moving in slow motion while his thoughts raced a mile a minute. What had Jason sent him? He was anxious to find out. Even after he climbed into the truck, he didn’t immediately open the envelope, wanting to be far away from the vicinity before he reviewed the contents.

  He backed out of his parking space, then left the parking lot, turning right onto Mayflower Drive.

  A white four-door sedan pulled in behind him, almost immediately. He kept a steady pace, narrowing his gaze as he peered into his rearview mirror, trying to see if the driver was someone he recognized.

  The sun was bright, and the driver wore a baseball cap low over his brow, making it impossible to get a good look at his face. He couldn’t even say for sure if the driver was a man or a woman but assumed it was a dude.

  Miles told himself that the car pulling up right behind him was nothing more than a coincidence, but as he made several turns, the car remained on his tail. He accelerated. As the car dropped back, he tried to make out the license number, but the front license plate was missing.

  Wisconsin state law required a front plate.

  Without being too obvious, Miles varied his speed a bit and changed lanes so that he was driving in the center of the three-lane highway. Soon there were a couple of cars between his truck and the white car. He thought about how to best lose the tail, and at the last minute made a left-hand turn as the green arrow changed to amber, then red.

  The white car wasn’t able to make the turn. Miles gunned the engine, making another left-hand turn, then a right through a strip mall parking lot. Sticking to the speed limit was difficult, every cell in his body screamed at him to hurry, but he didn’t want to get pulled over by the police, either.

  The white car wasn’t anywhere in sight, but Miles still couldn’t relax. How had he been found in the first place? Was it possible they’d connected him to Garrett’s truck? If so, he needed a new set of wheels, as soon as possible, and not one of his brother’s cars, either.

  Something without any ties to the Callahan name.

  But he didn’t dare stop to get a rental car now. For one thing, he didn’t want the vehicle in his name, and besides, he needed one of his brothers to help out. Or maybe his sister, Maddy, had a friend who’d be willing to trade vehicles for a while.

  Miles drove toward the on-ramp to the interstate, unwilling to waste any more time. He just knew that Jason had sent him something important, hopefully information that would blow the case wide open.

  The traffic was light this time of day, and when he saw the white car coming up on his tail, he did a double take. Was it the same car? As the car grew closer he could see that there wasn’t a front license plate.

  He stepped on the gas, a second too late. There was a loud shot followed by the sound of shattering glass.

  The rear window of the truck fell apart into dozens of tiny pieces.

  Whoever was riding in the white car was shooting at him!

  SIX

  Miles ducked down, making himself a smaller target as he pushed the speed limit. One good thing about having Garrett’s truck was that the engine had a lot more horsepower than his sedan. He zigzagged between cars, ignoring the blaring horns aimed at him by the other irritated drivers.

  He took the first exit and pretty much ran a red light to put more distance between him and the occupants of the white car.

  As soon as he was certain he’d lost them, he called his brother Mike. “I’ve been tailed and shot at.”

  Mike whistled between his teeth. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, for now. But I need to lose the tail.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I need a new vehicle, ASAP. Any ideas? What about Maddy’s old boyfriend, Joey Marchese? Do you think he’d swap vehicles for a while? I feel like we need something that isn’t easily linked to the Callahan name.”

  “I have a better idea,” Mike said. “I have an alternate identity that I use sometimes to work cases. I’ll use that to rent a car.”

  “You have a fake ID?” Miles repeated incredulously. “Since when?”

  “Since none of your business. You have your job and I have mine. Tell me where you want to meet.”

  “You’ll need to bring Paige and Abby with you,” Miles said. “I don’t want them left alone.”

  “Understood.”

  Miles thought about where they could go to rent a vehicle. “We’d better meet down at the airport...it’s large enough that we should be able to get in and out without anyone noticing.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you there in thirty minutes.”

  Miles disconnected, dropped the phone in the console between the seats and scrubbed a hand over his face.

  That had been a close one, and he wasn’t in the clear yet, either. Driving with a missing window would draw attention to him, something he didn’t need.

  Staying on back roads as much as possible, Miles wove his way toward the airport. When he passed a hardware store, he stopped and purchased duct tape and plastic to cover the open space where the window had once been. He glanced around the parking lot, picking out a truck to swap plates with. He left cash tucked under the wiper blade to make up for his taking the plates, and then quickly swapped them out.

  Despite his mitigation strategies, Miles didn’t feel very secure as he made his way to the airport. The plastic-covered back window was like a huge red flag waving in the wind, drawing unwanted attention to the vehicle.

  When he caught a glimpse of a white car, he backtracked, making sure it wasn’t the one that had followed him earlier. It wasn’t, and by the time he reached the airport, his anger simmered.

  He knew that his friendship with Jason Whitfield had made him a target and he needed to find out why. Miles glanced at the yellow envelope, hoping that it contained the answers he needed.

  Whoever had driven the white car had wanted the contents of the envelope, as well. The same people had broken into his house, searching for whatever Ja
son had sent. At least now he knew for certain that the break-in was connected to Sci-Tech and Jason’s murder.

  He drove around the long-term parking lot, choosing a narrow spot between two other large vehicles to back into, hiding the broken window from view. Sliding out from behind the wheel, Miles once again tucked the envelope beneath his leather jacket, calling his brother as he walked away from the truck.

  “I’m here. Where are you?” Miles asked.

  “Coming toward the airport now,” Mike confirmed.

  “Take the ramp to the right for long-term parking. I’ll meet you there.” Miles replaced the phone in his pocket and swept his gaze over the area. Thirty seconds later, he saw his brother’s nondescript dark green four-door roll into view.

  Relieved, he headed in that direction, pausing near the hut where the airport shuttle normally picked up passengers. He quickly jumped into the passenger seat, latching the seatbelt as Mike drove off in the direction of the rental car companies.

  “Thanks,” Miles said, glancing over at his brother. “I owe you one.”

  “What happened?” Paige asked from the backseat.

  For Abby’s sake, he forced a smile, unwilling to scare the child any more than necessary. “Nothing happened. I’m fine. There was a white car tailing me, but I managed to lose it.”

  Paige’s gaze clung to his, mirroring unasked questions. He gave a slight nod, in an attempt to reassure her that he’d fill her in later. She sighed but didn’t say anything else.

  He hated that he’d made her worry, and reached back to lightly touch her knee. His heart constricted in his chest when she covered his hand with hers for a long moment, before letting go.

  Stay focused, he told himself. This wasn’t the time to allow his personal feelings to distract him from the case.

  Procuring a rental car didn’t take long, and Miles was grateful that Mike had gone for an SUV. Paige tucked Abby into the backseat, then closed the door and turned to face him.