Hidden Witness Page 6

  “You’re trying to tell me that you’ve got the witness to a high-profile case hiding out on your ranch?” he asked, raising a dark brow and staring straight into Mac’s eyes.

  “I had one hiding on my ranch. Right now, she’s in a shed on the old church property on the edge of town.” He hoped. It had taken Mac longer than he would have liked to track down River. He hadn’t been in his office, and Mac hadn’t wanted to ask the dispatcher to locate him. He had no idea who was involved in leaking the information about Anna. Until he did, he was going to trust very few people.

  River eyed him silently.

  “If you’re waiting for more information, that’s all I’ve got,” Mac said impatiently, the cold seeping through his jeans and coat and wrapping him in a viselike grip that made his bones ache.

  “I’m trying to figure out why you would allow someone who could bring danger on your property,” River replied.

  “How about we discuss that after she’s safe?” he suggested.

  “All right. Hop in.” He motioned for Mac to climb in the front passenger seat, then accelerated, speeding through the backroads of town and onto the main thoroughfare that led past the sheriff’s office and back to the church. They rounded a curve in the road and the headlights caught the quick movement of a shadow darting behind thick hedges.

  “Did you see that?” Mac asked.

  “Yes.” River coasted to the curb and braked. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”

  “How about we both check it out. These guys mean business, River. I don’t think they’re worried about shooting a police officer.”

  “I’m wearing body armor. Are you?” River exited the vehicle and jogged to the hedges.

  Mac followed, making sure to stay out of River’s line of fire. The moon had disappeared behind heavy clouds. The air was thick with moisture. Streetlights gleamed on asphalt and cement, the glow from porch lights shining on well-tended yards. Something rustled in the hedges as they approached. Someone was sliding through the foliage.

  “Sheriff’s department, come out of there. Now. Hands where I can see them!” River commanded, his gun drawn and pointed at the hedges.

  “I’m trying,” a woman replied.

  A woman whose voice Mac recognized!

  “Anna?” He hurried forward, peering under the shrubs. She was there, her hair wound so tightly in the branches, she could barely move her head.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I saw headlights. I was worried. I ducked for cover, and I didn’t realize the thing I was ducking behind had thorns,” she replied. “Now that I’ve explained, can you get me out of here? The guys who were chasing us were at the church. They tried to get in the shed.”

  “And that made you think it would be a good idea to leave a safe spot and run for it?” he muttered, reaching into the thorny hedge and gently untangling her hair.

  “Everything okay?” River asked, crouching next to him.

  “If you call being chased by men who want you dead okay, then yes. Everything is fine,” Anna replied as she crawled out and got to her feet. “I know one of them. Or I’ve met him,” she said without preamble.

  “The men at the church?” Mac asked, his gaze shifting from her pale face to the empty road. If she was being pursued, the men were too far back to be seen. Or too well hidden. He stepped between her and the asphalt.

  “Yes, and they know who you are.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “From what I heard, they plan to get rid of you when they get rid of me.”

  “Also not surprising.”

  “How about we talk about this in my office?” River asked, taking Anna’s arm and leading her to his cruiser. He motioned for her to climb in the passenger seat. “Sorry, Mac. You get a backseat ride.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t been there before,” he responded, waiting impatiently for him to open the door. He had more questions. Lots of them.

  He slid into the back seat of the cruiser.

  “You’ve been in the back seat of a cruiser before?” Anna had twisted in her seat so she could look at him through the fiberglass partition.

  “A friend and I decided to trespass on state property. We got caught. The security guard thought he would teach us a lesson by calling the police.”

  “I was the friend,” River said as he pulled away from the curb.

  “What’d you do? Break into a zoo?”

  “There’s no zoo out here, ma’am,” River replied, offering a quick smile that Mac recognized from their teenage years. He obviously found Anna attractive. Who wouldn’t? She had a natural beauty that was impossible not to notice. Silky hair. Smooth skin. High cheekbones. She had freckles, too. Across her nose and sprinkled on her cheeks.

  “A state park?” she asked, her gaze focused on the street behind them.

  “Briarwood State Hospital. It was a place people were sent when they had tuberculous. Later it was a home for unwed mothers and then eventually it was a home for troubled youth. That was shut down, and it’s been abandoned since.”

  “I’m surprised I’ve never seen it,” she said, but Mac doubted she was invested in the conversation. She was more concerned with what might be coming up behind them.

  “You said you recognized one of the men?” He cut in, and she met his eyes.

  “I didn’t see them, but one of them had a familiar voice.”

  “Familiar from Boston?” he asked, hoping that it was. He didn’t want to believe that anyone from the ranch or from Briarwood would betray him.

  “No. It was someone I met here.”

  “You’re sure?” River frowned, his relaxed good-old-boy facade gone.

  “There is a big difference between a Boston accent and a Texas drawl,” she replied.

  “There are people from Texas everywhere, ma’am,” River reminded her.

  “And people from Boston everywhere, but I haven’t met anyone here with a Boston accent. And I don’t know anyone in Boston who has a Texas drawl,” she responded.

  “All right. We’ll assume the person is someone you met here. Any idea who?”

  “No, but if I heard him speak, I’d probably know it was him.”

  “I guess we can start this investigation by bringing in potential suspects for questioning. You can listen in.”

  “We’re not going to be here long enough for that,” Mac said as River pulled into the small parking area near the sheriff’s department and stopped the cruiser near a back door.

  “You came to me for help, Mac. I’m going to give it, but this is an open investigation until I close it, and I’m going to need full cooperation from you and from Ms...?”

  “Meade. Anna.” She gave her alias rather than her real identity.

  “Until I complete the investigation and arrest the people responsible, I’m going to have to ask you both to stay in town.”

  “You can ask all you want, but that doesn’t mean we’re staying,” Mac responded.

  He explained the situation in detail. The federal case. The dead prosecuting attorney and state’s witness. Three survivors and only one who had seen the shooter.

  “We’re friends, Mac, but I’m a law enforcement officer before I’m anything. If there are hit men wandering around my town, it’s my job to find them and toss them in jail. Ms. Meade says she recognized a voice. We can have suspects in here within minutes, and we can start the identification process. If you want to give your statement and go home, feel free. But she’s staying.”

  River got out of the cruiser and rounded the vehicle, opening the door for Anna and taking her arm.

  For a split second, Mac wondered if River would leave him in the cruiser. There were no door handles. No interior locks. Nothing that would enable him to escape. That thought brought a darker one. Was River involved in the plot against Anna?


  The door opened, and he climbed out. On edge. Frustrated with himself. He had been in a situation that could have easily been used against him and Anna. The glass in the cruiser was bulletproof. The car was made to keep people from escaping. He could have been trapped there. Anna could have been killed.

  He had known River for nearly three decades. They had been friends for most of their lives, but close friends could betray you. People you trusted could stab you in the back. He had seen it. He had lived it. He had broken off an engagement to his high school sweetheart because she had cheated with the person he had chosen as his best man. They had been days from getting married. The venue had been picked, the cake made, the tuxes ordered. He’d had every intention of saying I do. Even though he had had doubts. Even though he had wondered if they could make it forever. He had loved Sydney, but they had gotten engaged before he went to basic training. They had stayed engaged as he passed SEAL training and entered the service. He had returned to his hometown when he could, spending time with her and planning their wedding. The more he had grown, the more he had learned about life, the less sure he was that they had enough in common to sustain a life together.

  But he had never imagined that she would betray him.

  He hadn’t been prepared to hear that the person she had betrayed him with was his best childhood friend.

  The experience hadn’t broken his heart—he had been relieved to have a reason to not go through with the wedding—but it had taught him a valuable lesson. Everyone had secrets. Sometimes those secrets were dark and painful and ugly.

  He took Anna’s arm.

  He could see the concern in her face, the hint of tension at the corners of her mouth, the tightness in her jaw and neck. Their plans had been waylaid by a supposedly well-meaning law enforcement officer. Until River said different, they were stuck in town.

  Unless they made a run for it.

  And if they had a chance, that was exactly what Mac planned to do. Until he knew who had betrayed them, he wouldn’t trust anyone.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said.

  “Maybe,” she replied as they walked into the old brick building that housed the sheriff’s office.

  “It will be,” he assured her.

  He planned to make certain of it.

  Protecting Anna had been an assignment. Something he had done for the sake of the ranch his grandfather had loved.

  Now it was personal.

  He would find a way to get her out of town, and they would stay hidden until he knew exactly who they could trust and who they couldn’t.

  FIVE

  The sheriff’s department was as quaint as the town, the two-story building filled with old wood and narrow halls. Annalise followed the sheriff through one of them, Mac’s hand cupping her elbow. He hadn’t let go of her since he’d gotten out of the police cruiser. She hadn’t pulled away. Maybe it had occurred to him, as it had to her, that the sheriff might not let him out of the cruiser. That she might be ushered into the building, locked up and found dead the next morning. A suicide or heart attack caused by an untraceable drug.

  She shivered, the heat doing little to chase away the cold that had settled deep in her bones.

  “Go ahead and have a seat, Ms. Meade,” the sheriff said, his dark eyes staring straight into hers. She had seen him in town a few times. He didn’t seem to embody the small-town pace that most people in Briarwood embraced. He moved more quickly. Spoke faster and with less of an accent. She wouldn’t say he seemed to be in a hurry, but he never seemed to be taking his time, moving through the world at a leisurely pace. She wondered if he had dreams of leaving Briarwood and becoming a big city police officer. He would fit well in a place like Boston.

  “You, too, Mac,” he directed as he rounded an ancient desk and sat in a new leather chair. The room was large, with two windows flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. On another wall, file cabinets stood side by side.

  She grabbed one of the straight-back chairs that stood near the door and pulled it over, taking a seat so quickly she thought its spindly legs might give out under her weight.

  “I need to make a couple of phone calls, River. I can step out in the hall to do it,” Mac replied. In the harsh overhead light, his hair was a mix of burnished copper and chestnut brown, his eyes silvery blue, fine lines fanning out from them. She had watched him work with dude ranch visitors. She had seen him running cattle. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him stand still. Even now, he was fidgeting, flipping his cell phone over and over in his hand.

  “How about you do that after we talk? I want to get a better handle on what’s going on here and then send some of my deputies out looking for our perps.”

  “You might want to send them out now. You have armed men wandering through town. I don’t have to tell you that’s a dangerous situation.”

  “You’re right. It’s a dangerous situation, and I don’t need to be told.” The sheriff frowned and stood. “I’m going to dispatch a couple deputies to search for our perps. Any physical description you can give?”

  “I didn’t see them,” Anna responded.

  “How about you, Mac?”

  “I wish I had something to offer you. It was dark, and we were running. I couldn’t see any details.”

  “They were on foot? Or in a vehicle?”

  “On foot when they were at the church,” Anna said. “I heard one of them mention their vehicle being parked near the ranch.”

  “I saw a vehicle. It was a late model Ford Explorer. Black or dark blue. The license plate was covered, so I couldn’t even get a partial.”

  The sheriff’s eyes lit up, and he smiled. “That’s something to go on, at least. You two stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

  He stepped out into the hall and closed the door.

  Mac pulled a chair over and sat, his shoulder brushing Anna’s. He was close enough that she could feel the chill radiating from the exterior of his coat. He took it off, dropped it around her shoulders without offering, asking or commenting.

  She didn’t protest.

  She wanted to get this meeting over with and get on the next plane back to Boston. The way she saw it, if her cover had been blown and her hiding place revealed, she might as well be back at her apartment, tucked away behind locked doors and shaded windows.

  She had no idea who she could trust.

  Aside from Mac, it was possible anyone was the enemy. Even the sheriff. She eyed the closed door, wondering if he was really sending deputies out or if he were calling Moreno.

  “What are you thinking?” Mac asked.

  “That I feel like a sitting duck. I have no idea who told Moreno I was here, and I have no idea who I can trust.”

  “You’re wondering about the sheriff?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “I wish I could say no. We’ve been friends for years.”

  “But, you can’t?”

  “I don’t want to take chances with your life. Not even slim ones. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Mac grabbed her hand and pulled her from the chair. He pulled the curtains back from one of the windows. “The great thing about the old buildings in this town is that most of them don’t have modern locks.”

  “I’d think a sheriff’s office would.”

  “In the more modern part of the building, it does. Here, things are just the way they were a century ago.” He unlocked the window and opened it. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “And go where? We’ve already got murderers chasing us. If we climb out this window, we’ll have the sheriff and his deputies after us, too.”

  “We haven’t done anything wrong. River will come looking for us, but he’s not going to arrest us for leaving.”

  “Then, why don’t we just walk out the same way we walked in?” she asked. She knew he was right. They hadn’t committed a crime but cli
mbing out the window would make her feel like they were running from the law.

  “I don’t want to believe River is involved in giving our location to Moreno. I don’t think he would do something like that, but I don’t want to take chances. I want to leave, and I don’t want to be followed.”

  “So, we climb out the window and go where?”

  “My grandfather owned a hunting cabin twenty miles from town. We’re going there.”

  “On foot?”

  “I’ll get us a ride.”

  “From?”

  “How about we get out of here and then I’ll explain.”

  “I’d rather know the entire plan first,” she muttered.

  “If I take the time to explain, we may lose our opportunity to leave.”

  “If we move forward on a plan that isn’t going to work—” she began.

  “My grandfather always used to say that a mediocre plan with great follow-through is better than a great plan with no follow-through.” He had the window open and the screen off. All she had to do was climb out, and they’d be on their way to freedom.

  Or danger.

  Maybe both.

  But Mac was right. Enacting a plan of action that was only partially thought through was better than thinking up a better plan and never having the chance to implement it.

  She climbed out, stepping into an alley between the sheriff’s department and the town’s pharmacy. Not a big-name place. Just a small family-owned business where people in town came to get their prescriptions filled.

  Mac was right on her heels, grabbing her arm as he exited the building and holding it as he closed the window and replaced the screen.

  “You don’t have to hold on to me, Mac. It’s not like I’m going to run off,” she told him.

  “Maybe not, but I don’t believe in taking chances.”

  “What chances? We’re standing inches from each other,” she whispered, worried that her voice would carry into the building and a half-dozen deputy sheriffs would come running to apprehend them.

  “You told me you’d stay in the shed. You didn’t.”