Lone Witness

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Chief Simpson?”

  “He and a team of his officers are meeting us on the corner of Winslow and Mayflower. They’re on foot, but he says he thinks they got into position before Patrick arrived.”

  “Is Patrick there?”

  “They have an officer in an unmarked car across from the monument. Tessa walked past him three minutes ago, but he hasn’t spotted Patrick or Aria.”

  “If he hurt her...” He stopped. Threats were useless, and retaliating wouldn’t bring back Aria if Patrick had killed her. Just the thought filled him with cold dread and overwhelming sorrow.

  “He didn’t,” Jessica said. “He’s too into the game. He wants to keep his bargaining chip, so he can keep playing for a while longer.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am. Patrick is a typical narcissist. He loves watching people squirm, and he gets a thrill out of winning at whatever game he’s playing. To him, people are simply a means to an end. Aria isn’t his target, and unless something goes very wrong, he’s probably not going to hurt her.”

  “It’s the ‘probably’ part of that statement that I’m not much liking.”

  “I’m giving you all the information, Henry, but I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about anything going wrong. Tessa handled this well. She contacted you, and she’s doing what he’s asked. Her goal is the same as ours—make sure Aria stays safe.”

  “My goal is to make certain they both stay safe.”

  “Once we get Aria out of harm’s way, we’ll work in extracting Tessa,” Wren said, her phone ringing.

  She answered, her tone terse. “Agent Santino. Yes. Okay. We’re a minute out.”

  She slid the phone into her pocket. “Patrick has been spotted. He parked at a theater near the monument and got out of his car. Aria is with him. From what the officer said, she looks fine.”

  “Let’s make sure she stays that way,” he said grimly, turning onto Winslow. Pilgrim was just ahead, and he slowed as he neared it, afraid Patrick might notice a car at his time of the night in this part of town.

  He didn’t see any sign of the chief or his officers.

  Good.

  If Henry couldn’t see them, Patrick couldn’t, either.

  He parked in front of a small ranch-style house, turned off the engine of the rental car and jumped out.

  He’d have run toward the monument, if Wren hadn’t grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

  “You’ve always been cool-headed in a crisis, Henry. How about we don’t change that tonight?”

  She was right.

  Panicking wasn’t going to save his daughter.

  It wasn’t going to save Tessa.

  Patrick was a coldhearted murderer, but Henry was part of a team that new exactly how to stop men like him.

  He nodded, his gaze drawn to a small group of people that stepped out from behind a house. Simpson. Kayla. Three other uniformed officers. They were moving with confidence. Hurrying but not frantic.

  Tessa had called 911 from her landline while she was on the phone with Patrick. The call had been recorded, the details had been handed over to the police department. They’d been in place and ready for a half hour.

  Henry needed to trust them, trust his team, trust God.

  He needed to believe that evil could be defeated, that good could prevail, that everything he worked for, that he valued, that he lauded as worthwhile, was exactly what would get his daughter and Tessa out of this alive.

  And then he needed to stop panicking and do whatever he had to, to make sure that happened.

  TWELVE

  It was twenty-nine degrees, but Tessa was covered in a layer of drying sweat, her heart still pounding frantically as she circled the monument for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  She’d made the forty-minute walk in less than thirty-five. She’d still expected Patrick to be waiting when she arrived. Instead, the parking area was empty, light glowing off the granite facade of the giant monolith.

  She had spent time at the monument before. She’d walked to the top and admired the view. She’d read the plaque. She’d visited the museum. She’d done all the things that a tourist would.

  She’d never thought of the place as eerie, but it felt that way now. She skirted around the side of the tower, eyeing the dark corners of the parking lot. A small hill led down to the sidewalk, and she thought about going there, but she was afraid Patrick would arrive, not see her and drive away with Aria.

  She glanced at her watch. It had been nearly an hour since he’d contacted her. Had he changed his mind? Changed the plan? Was he calling her cell phone trying to give her other instructions?

  She’d left that at home. Just like he’d told her to.

  But Patrick had always loved stacking the cards against her.

  Without her phone, she had no way of calling for help and no way of knowing if anyone was trying to reach her. The person she most wanted to hear from was Henry. She wanted to know that he’d gotten her message and that help was on the way.

  It certainly wasn’t coming from the local police. She hadn’t heard sirens. She hadn’t seen any police cruisers. Either her 911 call hadn’t gone through, or the operator had thought it was a joke.

  One way or another, she was on her own.

  “Not on your own,” she muttered. “God is with you, and He’s not going to let Patrick win.”

  “He has so far,” Patrick said, stepping out from the dark entrance of the monument.

  Her heart jumped, her pulse raced, but she wasn’t going to let him know how terrified she was. He lived off the fear of others. He thrived when he knew he had control.

  “How long have you been there?” she asked, forcing a calmness to her voice that she didn’t feel. She didn’t see Aria, but she didn’t dare ask about the little girl. Not right away. If she did, he’d make certain to keep the information from her for as long as he could.

  “Three laps’ worth. We enjoyed watching you getting more and more worried that I wasn’t going to show. Didn’t we, kid?” he asked, reaching into the dark alcove and pulling Aria from the shadows.

  Tessa’s knees went weak with relief, but when Aria tried to run to her, she shook her head.

  “That’s right. Stay with me, kiddo,” Patrick laughed. “We get to be best friends until I decide what I’m going to do with you.” He yanked her closer, and she stumbled, her hair falling in a tangled mess of black curls around her face.

  She’d been crying. Tessa could see the tearstains on her face. “It’s going to be okay, Aria.”

  “No. It isn’t,” Patrick replied. “Your good buddy messed with the wrong person, and now someone has to pay. The question is, will it be you, or will it be her?”

  “Tessa, run away!” Aria yelled.

  Patrick laughed again. “She’s not going to run. She’s much too nice to leave a little munchkin like you with a man like me.”

  “Let her go, Patrick.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You said you would.”

  “I also said I was going to marry you after you moved in with me. Did that happen?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Did it?” he shouted.

  In another lifetime, she’d have cowered away from his rage.

  But she’d grown a lot since she’d run from him. She’d learned a lot about herself and about what she was capable of.

  “If you’d been a decent kind of human being, it would have. But you weren’t. So, no.”

  “You’ve gotten really mouthy since you left, haven’t you?” he spat, his eyes blazing. “But you’re not going to be mouthy when I’m up at the top of this tower, holding this little brat over the edge. Then you’re going to be begging for forgiveness.”

  He dragged Aria back into the monument, ignoring the litt
le girl’s flailing fists and kicking feet.

  Tessa raced after them, desperate to free Aria from his grip and give her a chance to run.

  “I’ll beg you now, Patrick. If that’s what you want,” she said as she darted under the granite arch and realized he’d picked the lock that opened the gates there.

  He whirled around, his face hidden by darkness. “Fine. Beg.”

  She dropped to her knees, and she could see his smile through the darkness.

  “Please, Tessa!” Aria cried, her sobs echoing through the structure. “Will you go get my daddy? He’ll save us.”

  “If he were going to save you, he’d have done it by now. Your father is garbage. Just like every police officer,” Patrick said coldly.

  “He’s not garbage!” Aria wiped her hand across her cheeks, swiping at the tears.

  “You’re a kid. I guess I can forgive you for your wrong opinions. Now, shut up. I’m waiting for your buddy to beg me to forgive her for all the trouble she’s caused. Go ahead. Beg.”

  “I’m sorry, Patrick,” she said. “I should never have left you.”

  “Are you kidding?” he crowed. “Your leaving me was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. Out you went. In Sheila came. A nice little revolving door of women, and I didn’t even have to kill you to make it happen.”

  “Sheila is too good for you,” she said, trying to get to the paring knife without him noticing.

  “She’s certainly a step up from you,” he responded.

  When she didn’t argue, he sighed. “The problem is, no one is really good enough for me. I’ve dated plenty of women, and all of them are fine for a while. Eventually, though, they all become bores. When I get bored, I spend money. Really, when you think about it, it’s your fault Ryan had to die.”

  “Mine?”

  “Sure. At first you were exciting. You had a lot of spunk, and I liked that. After a while, you became like every other woman I’d ever dated. A sniveling leech who was more interested in taking from me than giving to me what I was due. You know what that is?”

  “Praise?” she guessed. “Adulation?”

  “I like those things, but what I deserve is absolute devotion. No questions. No arguments. I thought if I dated someone young, I might be able to make that happen. But my effort was wasted on you. You ended up boring me, and I had to go spend money to make myself feel better. I got myself into some financial trouble at the shop, and Ryan found out. He wanted to have a rational discussion about the money that was missing from the accounts. Unfortunately, I did not.”

  “So, you killed him.”

  “I paid someone to kill him. I’m sure you remember that I don’t like to get my hands dirty. Although, in your case, I might make an exception. You’ve put me through a lot of trouble. If you hadn’t taken that watch—”

  “I didn’t realize what it meant. I had no idea it was Ryan’s until after you came looking for it.”

  “Of course you didn’t. I was never worried about you figuring it out. I was worried about you selling it and someone else figuring it out. There are a few people with brains in their heads. You’re not one of them. You’re stupid. Just like I always told you.”

  “She’s not stupid!” Aria cried, and he laughed.

  “Yes, she is, and you’re a little spitfire.” He paused. “Not that either of those things matter to me. Once I settle in Thailand, I’ll go into business again, build even more of a fortune, find someone who understands the rules required of anyone who wants to be with me.”

  Tessa lunged, throwing her weight into his torso, the knife arching toward him.

  “Run, Aria!” she shouted.

  “You’re going to regret that!” Patrick yelled, grabbing her wrist before the knife made contact, his fingers digging into bone.

  She’d forgotten how strong he was, how quick.

  Aria sprinted out from under the monument, her legs and arms churning as she ran, but Tessa was caught, her arm hiked up in a painful position, the knife dropping from her fingers.

  “That,” Patrick panted, “was stupid. And now you’ve made me angry. Just like you always do. Too bad. I was thinking about taking you to Thailand, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you here.” He backhanded her, the explosive power of the blow sending her into the wall.

  He had her by the hair before she could right herself, the knife pressed against her jugular.

  She knew this waltz. She’d danced it with him before.

  “Walk,” he growled.

  “Where?”

  “Up.” He shoved her toward the entrance that led to the top of the monument. “Maybe I’ll change my mind about killing you before we get to the top.”

  * * *

  Aria was screaming as she darted into the street, her hair flying around her face.

  Henry snatched her up, dragging her behind the nearest parked car, avoiding the fists and feet she was using to try to fend him off.

  “It’s okay, honey,” he murmured. “It’s Daddy.”

  “Daddy?” She stopped fighting, her chest heaving as she looked at his face. She touched his cheek as if she wanted to be sure he was really who he claimed to be.

  “Yes,” he responded.

  “I’ve been praying and praying that you would come find us. That bad man has Tessa, and it’s all my fault.”

  “It’s his fault. Not yours, and I’m going to help Tessa, but I need you to be brave and stay here with Officer Kayla, okay?”

  She nodded, brushing thick strands of hair from her cheeks and looking him square in the eyes. “Tessa saved my life. Now you need to save hers.”

  He nodded, kissed her forehead and handed her to Kayla.

  Wren was a few feet away, watching the tower through binoculars. “They’re heading up. I just saw a shadow go past the first window.”

  “The gates into the monument are locked this time of year,” Chief Simpson muttered. “He shouldn’t be doing anything other than bringing her this way.”

  That’s what they’d planned for. He’d head back to his car with Tessa and Aria. They’d swoop in and stop him from leaving.

  But life didn’t often work out according to plan, and Henry wasn’t going to wait around hoping that Patrick would eventually appear. “I’m going inside,” he said.

  “If he has a gun, he’ll have a clear shot down. It’s a spiral up, straight drop down to the center,” the chief explained.

  Henry nodded. He’d looked at photos on his way in on the plane. “I’ll try not to let him shoot me.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Henry,” Wren cautioned. “He’s already killed once. He’s not going to hesitate to kill again.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. Every second we waste trying to come up with a new plan is another few steps between us and the person we’re trying to save.”

  Wren frowned. “You’re right.”

  “There’s some scrub on the other side of the monument that might provide cover on the way in,” Chief Simpson suggested. “How many people do you want going in?”

  “Me, my two agents and you. Should be fine.” Wren motioned for Jessica to fall in beside them.

  “Let’s go, then,” the chief said, moving between parked vehicles and sticking to the shadows as they left, heading perpendicular to the monument. When they were a dozen yards away, he cut in toward it, heading up a hill through thick scrub.

  They stayed low, following the curved granite wall until they reached one of the rectangular doorways that opened to the interior of the monument.

  There was a gate just beyond it, yawning open.

  The chief gestured for them to follow him through another doorway that led up a narrow passageway.

  Henry could hear footsteps, and he looked up, catching a quick glimpse of a shadow moving fifty feet above them.

&nb
sp; Wren touched his arm, gestured for him to take the lead.

  He went willingly, moving as quickly and as silently as he could up the stairs and ramps that separated him from Tessa.

  Something fell on the stairway above him, the sound echoing through the chamber. He thought he heard Tessa gasp, but he couldn’t be certain.

  He’d let things go too long after their last conversation. He realized that now.

  He’d wanted to give her space and a chance to figure out how much of her heart she was willing to risk to be in a relationship with him.

  More than that, he’d wanted her to trust him. He’d wanted her to know that he was a safe place to land.

  And he’d wanted her to realize that without any coercion or convincing from him.

  If he was honest with himself, he could admit that he’d been hurt, that he’d been just as eager to avoid repeating that as he’d accused Tessa of being.

  He’d been a fool.

  He wanted the opportunity to tell her that.

  He prayed he’d have the opportunity.

  It was a long way up to the top of the tower.

  A lot of things could go wrong before any of them reached it.

  Please, Lord, protect Tessa, he prayed silently as he continued upward.

  The sound of another scuffle broke the quiet, and something bounced off the railing above him. It struck the granite block wall and fell to the ground, thirty-feet below.

  A man cursed and feet pounded along a ramp somewhere above Henry. He thought, at first, that someone was racing up the stairs, but the sound seemed to be getting louder.

  He glanced up, saw a pale figure sprinting down from the highest section of the tower.

  Tessa!

  And Patrick was right behind her!

  THIRTEEN

  In her nightmares, Tessa always ran from Patrick. Through towns. Through buildings. Through churches. She would run as far and as fast as she could, but she never managed to escape. No matter which direction she went, he was always there. Blocking her path. Keeping her from safety. She’d wake in a cold sweat, her body numb with fear, her mind slow to convince her that she was okay, that it was only a dream.