Blind Witness (14 page)

He stretched his hand out to the phone, but he pulled it back. He yearned to go to her. It was too late though. He had cut her off and she knew it. It was better this way, he said in his mind for the thousandth time. But, if that were true why did it feel so wrong?

The chimes of the clock rang three times in the dark night. It was a mournful sound matching how he felt. He wanted Rachelle. He reached for the file once again, and then pushed it away just like he did her. Agony raged through him. Slamming his hand down on the desk, the sound echoed into the ring of the phone.

“Rachelle,” he said as he snatched it up.

The voice on the phone laughed. “Wrong! You sent her away, such a noble gesture to keep her safe. Did you really think it would stop me? I thought you should know she cried herself to sleep. I think that it’s really rather fitting that she dies like Aubrey, broken-hearted because of you. Yes, you can think of it while you’re waiting for your turn to join her in death. Think of the last thing she did before she died was cry because of you.” The phone went dead in his ear.

Britt dropped the phone not caring where it landed as he ran for the door. Not waiting for the elevator he took the stairs two at a time. His car tore out of the parking lot, skidding into the street. It wasn’t until he had the car straightened out that he found his cell phone that he left in the car had been smashed and knew it was by the caller. The man had everything planned.

He was five minutes from the towers. Britt decided he couldn’t risk the time to stop and find a phone to call the police. Maybe if he was lucky an officer would try to pull him over for speeding. He would pay any ticket. He just prayed he was in time. If he could get to Rachelle in time, he would never make her cry again.

****

Rachelle came wide awake wondering what time it was. Her body still claimed exhaustion, but between her restlessness and finally crying herself to sleep, it was not surprising. Reaching for the nightstand, it took her several seconds to find the watch her sister gave her on the unfamiliar surface. She fumbled and pressed the button. “Three-o-eight,” the cartoon voice said.

Three, Rachelle groaned, wishing she could believe it was in the afternoon. Before she had time to think anything else, she heard the faint sound of a foot pressing down into the carpet.

“Wh . . . ho’s there?” She knew the words were stupid. If there was someone in the room, they wouldn’t be answering.
This is foolish, I’m scaring myself.
It was just the sounds of the unfamiliar hotel. She waited, listening. When no sound came, she relaxed and her thoughts went to Britt.

The thought was hardly through her when she heard another sound. This one was closer, more distinct. Someone was in her room. She started to move when she felt something wet seep through the blanket. Rachelle rolled away but got tangled in the sheets. Fear filled her. She kicked and tried to scramble free, but a hand caught her hip and pulled her back. Her scream was cut off as her face was shoved into the mattress. In terror, she kicked her legs, but the blankets impeded her motion. A hand came down on the back of her neck with brutal force pushing her face deeper, cutting off more air. She fought to push back and gained an inch, enabling her to gulp in a lungful of air before a knee was rammed into her back. She went down.

Swinging her arms out did nothing, she couldn’t reach her attacker. She tried to shift under him but only got the knee ground harder into her back. It wasn’t until lights began to flash in her mind that she realized she was suffocating. With renewed effort, she fought back. Frantically, she grabbed the edge of the bed, then the desk and tried to pull herself forward.

A hand gripped her arm pulling it back, while the other hand kept the pressure on her neck. Feebly, Rachelle clawed at the desk in desperation, her hand bumped into the base of the lamp. She locked on it, pulling back with what strength she had left.

The lamp crashed down. A muttered curse sounded through the ringing in her ears. Then her own cry as the heavy brass lamp clipped her shoulder before it came to rest on the bed.

She was too stunned to realize the pressure was gone from her neck and back. She gulped air and jerked as there was another slam against her door.

****

Britt kicked the door again, and finally felt it budge. He wished he had the master key, but as startled as the night clerk was when he burst through the lobby door and yelled for security and
the police to go to Rachelle’s room, he knew the man couldn’t produce it. He just hoped the man would get the police.

One more kick and the door gave way, banging back against the wall. He pushed it back open. The room was flooded with light. Britt caught the motion of someone on the balcony, but he couldn’t force himself past the woman on the bed. Rachelle lay unmoving across it. A lamp lay broken by her shoulder. The flowers she loved were mashed around her. Anguish as he never knew hit him. He was too late. He stumbled forward reaching for her, needing to hold her. He had been a fool to push her away.

She jerked when he touched her hair. “Rachelle,” he gasped, trying to catch hold of her as she started to struggle. Britt called her name again as he turned her over. She groaned and her body began to tremble. He pulled her to him.

“Britt.”

His name was barely a whisper, but it never sounded so good to him. “I’m here sweetheart, I’m here. Don’t worry. I’ll never leave you again,” he promised, pressing kisses to her temple. “Careful, you’re hurt,” he gasped, when she flinched.

Rachelle made a slight shake of her head grimacing. His hands were already sliding over her.
“Where?”

“My
neck, shoulders and back.”

Britt held her against him and lifted her hair. Her reddened skin showed where fingers had been. “I’m sorry, love.” Gently, he ran his fingers over her abused flesh, bringing a whimper.

“Freeze!” the command came from the doorway. Britt looked up at the two officers standing there with guns drawn. “Let the lady go and back off the bed, real slow.” One of the officers motioned with his head, his gun never moving.

“Wait a minute. I’m not your man. He went over the balcony.” Britt knew it was too late to catch him. The man was long gone.

“Hands up,” the officer returned, not slackening his stance.

Slowly, Britt raised his hands. Rachelle remained clinging to him.

“Just call Detectives Todd or Adams. I’m Britton Clairbourne. This is Rachelle Harris. They can explain everything.”

“Like you breaking into the lady’s room in the middle of the night.” The other officer finally spoke.

“I didn’t.” Britt stopped. “Well, I did break in and I will pay for the damages, but I had to get to her.” Britt realized that didn’t sound any better. “Before he killed her,” he added, wishing Rachelle would come out of the stupor she seemed to have fallen into.

“Move off the bed.” He was ordered again.

At his shift away from her, Rachelle became alert. “Britt,” her voice wobbled.

“Rachelle, sweetheart, I need you to look over at the doorway and tell the officers there who I am, and that you’re in no danger from me.”

“Danger?”

“Yes, there are two police officers with guns pointed at me.”

Again she flattened herself to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Don’t shoot him. Please, don’t. He saved me. He’s . . . he’s my boyfriend.” She stumbled over the words making Britt laugh. After everything that happened, she sounded like a high school girl caught kissing a boy. Though considering what she was wearing and where they were, it would look like they got caught doing a little more than kissing.

As the guns slowly went away, he lowered his hands, sliding them back around Rachelle. The men looked back toward the broken door then back to him. “What happened here?”

After Britt started to talk, one of the officers went to find out what happened to the security men next door. He came back a minute later, saying he’d called an ambulance. One of the security men was just regaining consciousness, and the other was still out. The officer then disappeared back into the room.

A few minutes later the floor was filled with people. Rachelle finished describing what happened after the ambulance took away the unconscious guard. Britt insisted the paramedic check her out while he went to listen to what the other security guard told the police.

“I was doing my rounds in the hall, stopped to get a cola for us. I knocked on the door. As Jase opened it, I was hit from behind.”

“
Jase is the other guard?” Detective Adams, who had shown up a couple minutes earlier, asked.

“Yes,
Jase Gordon. I didn’t see anything until the officer found me.”

The officer nodded taking notes.

“Warren, you better have the medic check you out before you go,” Britt suggested to the man before he turned to go back to Rachelle’s room.

She huddled in a chair, trying to follow all that was going on around her, when he stepped through the broken doorway. She looked overwhelmed and exhausted. Forcing his eyes from her to the manager, who hovered just outside the room, Britt motioned the man over.

“Is the suite reserved for Clairbourne Industries available?”

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“I’d like to move Miss Harris into it for the rest of the night.”

“I’ll get the key card immediately.”

Britt moved to the officer in charge of the scene. “Are you done with us?”

The man looked over at Rachelle sitting in a chair, wrapped in a blanket, and nodded. “We know where to reach you.”

“We’ll be out of town for the next couple of days. I have to attend a fundraiser and I want to get Rachelle away from all of this for a while, but Detective Adams has my number where I can always be reached.”

“I’m sure you know this, but if you think of anything to add, let us know.”

“Of course.” He went to Rachelle and knelt down in front of her. “Rachelle,” he said softly to let her know who was there before he placed a hand on her arm. “Let’s gather your belongings. We’re leaving.”

“Home?” she asked hopefully.

“No, just upstairs to a different suite but don’t worry, I’m going to stay with you.”

“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.” Her voice cracked and chin dropped to cover its trembling.

The whole picture she presented made him ache. “Please, listen to me.” He reached out tilting her chin up. “I want you with me, I promise. But I was afraid that having you near me was putting you in more danger. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“But it makes no difference. He’s still going to come after me.”

“I realize that now. All I succeeded in doing was hurting you, and leaving you alone and vulnerable, while making myself miserable. I plan to stay closer now, though. That is, if you’ll let me. He’s going to have to go through me to get to you. Will you trust me again?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Yes.” It was a soft, but sure answer. His heart soared. He felt as if he’d received the greatest honor in his life.

“Let’s go.” He helped her up. There was not much to gather up because she hadn’t unpacked anything. The instant the manager appeared with the keycard, they headed up stairs. It only took a few minutes to have Rachelle tucked in bed. “I’m going to leave the door open. If you need me, just call.” He caught the motion of her lip being caught in her teeth again.

“Tell me?” he urged her to say what she was holding back.

“Will you stay here until I go to sleep?”

“My pleasure.”
He lay out on the top of the covers, beside her. Stretching an arm over her, he pulled her tight. With a sigh, she cuddled into him and in just a few breaths was asleep.

Britt knew he should move to his own bed but he couldn’t tear himself from her yet. He had almost lost her. He would never forget the sight of her still body on the bed. He pulled her closer, turning his face into the silky stands of her hair, taking the scent of her into him. He could smell sweat-peas and wondered if they were from her lotion or the flowers crushed around her on the bed.

He pressed his lips against her temple and vowed again to keep her safe. This time though he would see to it personally. If anyone wanted to get to her, they’d have to go through him. He kissed her again, relaxed, and was asleep.

****

Rachelle relaxed back into the comfortable leather seat. The sun was coming in through the window, warming her body. The soft hum of the powerful engine and the gentle music on the radio added to the conditions drawing her from sleep. Britt’s hand brushed back a lock of her hair then stroked her cheek. Since waking up beside him this morning, Britt seemed to have an incessant need to touch her − a hand on her arm, around her waist, stroking her cheek, or just holding her hand. Rachelle didn’t mind. She liked the physical contact with him.

Waking up beside him again felt like the most natural thing. She wished he would have done more than one brief kiss before he bolted from the bed to his room for a shower. But then again, if he was feeling anything like she was feeling, the brief kiss was for the best.

Never had she been plagued with such strong feelings and desires. The same feelings that felt as if they’d crush and destroy her the evening before when he sent her away, now lifted her up in joy. The only difference being, Britt wanted her. She didn’t doubt it. Rachelle drifted in the pleasure of it.

****

Britt let his fingers slide over her cheek, down her arm to her hand, taking it in his. Her fingers curled around his. He knew by her breathing she was asleep. It was another twenty minutes before he turned off the main road onto his family estate. The Clairbourne Estate had been in his family for over a century. Though he was rarely there, it belonged to him. His stepmother spent more time living there than anyone, but even Tiffany, his stepsister and her husband, Carlton, spent more time there than he did. There just seemed no reason to drive the almost a half hour there, when his apartment was less than five minutes from work. And if he admitted the real reason, it was because there was no one special waiting for him there.

Until the last few days around Rachelle, he hadn’t realized how much of life he was missing. He’d become a workaholic. It had happened so gradually. At first, he had been working hard to get the company on even ground. Then it was to get it the way he wanted it. Soon, it had just become the norm to spend all his time at work. He never thought about life much outside work except on the rare occasions he got together with friends for trips they took. And, since they
started getting married and having families, those had become less frequent, down to just once or twice a year.