Character Witness (42 page)

''
Then why kill him?''

He looked up, surprised to see Kathleen there. He blinked. He smiled. ''He died only because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jules?'' Richard looked at his companion. The younger man unbuttoned the cuff on his shirt and rolled it up.

''
I want you to know that, in many ways, I continue to be a man of impeccable character. Were I not, I wouldn't want you to know the truth. I owe Gerry's last living relative that much. I owe you the truth because you're a woman who actually exceeded my expectations.'' Richard took Jules's arm. ''Look at his arms, Kathleen. Jules is a user. Dear, dear Jules, the man I love, loves something more than me. I would do anything to help him get what he loves.''

He looked as if he would cry over Jules's battered arm. Instead he turned his head her way, unmoved by the disgust he saw in her eyes.

''
I couldn't let anyone know about Jules because there's someone I love even more than he. My mother. She stood by me when the world taunted me for my looks, my dour demeanor, my intelligence, my lack of humor. That woman is everything to me and I would no more hurt her by having my dirty laundry aired in public than I would abandon Jules in his time of need.''

''
Richard, please,'' Jules's voice was hoarse. He loosened his tie, no longer quite the fashion plate he had first appeared. It was time for a fix.

''
In a moment. A moment, my dear.'' Richard leaned forward and kissed the back of Jules's neck. ''I need you wound tight right now. I need you to act on instinct. Remember Lionel?'' Richard's eyes were still on Kathleen and for the first time she saw them come to life.

''
Lionel walked out of that stall, Kathleen. He saw us, and that righteous little nothing told us he was going to call security. That little nobody was going to call security on me.'' Richard was energized by the memories of Lionel's impertinence. Lionel had been nothing to him, and Richard never thought about what Lionel Booker might have meant to the rest of the world. ''Jules came to my defense. Jules hit him like a football player and Lionel Booker went down. They both went through the stall door. Booker's leg hit the toilette. He reached back to break his fall. One does look over one's shoulder when they are thrown off balance that way. It was instinct that did Lionel in. I think Jules actually forgot he had that syringe in his hand. Jules doesn't think clearly, when he's like this. As they scrabbled, the syringe went in. It was surprisingly quick. Mr. Booker died before we knew it. It actually took us a few moments to realize what had happened.''

''
Did you call Doctor Greischmidt?'' Kathleen's voice was barely a whisper. He nodded.

''
I was long gone by the time the police arrived. It was a simple matter to call the man at home once Jules was comfortable and settled. The doctor took care of the matter quickly. The police report was filed and, once Greischmidt made his ruling, no one bothered to look at it again. It was actually quite funny since the one thing they didn't have was a syringe. When Jules and I figured that out we had a sleepless night. But no one really cared. The case was closed. The man buried. Some things are so simple. Other things that are simple can become intricate problems. And you, Kathleen, are one of those.''

Richard gave Jules a little push. So small Kathleen would have missed it if she had closed her eyes the way she wanted to. But they were wide open with fear and she saw him do it. Jules's reactions weren't as swift as hers. Fear will do that. Kathleen sprinted, thanking God for her long legs, cursing Evan Picone for the height of her heels.

A cry of outrage - or was it pain? - followed her and she pulled her purse tighter. That was the last thing she wanted to lose and the first thing that Jules Porter grabbed on to. He pulled on the strap and Kathleen yanked back, managing another few steps before he pulled again and the strap broke. Kathleen went spinning out of control and slammed into one of the storage tanks. She saw stars for a second, then she saw a pair of hands reaching for her and she ducked. On her knees now she crawled, then scrambled up only to be pulled down again. She screamed when Jules Porter clamored on top of her then she stopped when his hands went around her throat. But his grip was unsure, his fingers shaking and Kathleen was big and strong and, for the first time, that was to her advantage.

''
No you don't,'' she muttered and gritted her teeth.

With a great yowl, Kathleen brought her knee up. Though it missed the bull's eye, it made enough of an impact to send Jules Porter rolling away from her. Kathleen scrambled up and pivoted left. The maze of refinery equipment might hide her, but it also might hide the two men who wanted her dead. She'd take her chances in the wide open spaces.

With that thought, Kathleen stumbled toward the parking lot. Just before she cleared the last tank she stumbled, the heel of her shoe wedging in a metal grate. She hit the ground again, this time falling hard on her hip. Whimpering, breathing hard and tight, Kathleen pushed one foot against the other trying to get her shoe off, but her foot was twisted and Evan Picone had her trapped with tiny little straps that had once seemed so attractive, she had said she would die if she didn't have them.

Her eyes darted up, her head twisted and still she saw no hope. She sat in the shadows of one of the storage tanks, scrabbling with the tiny buckles. Short of ripping her foot off, there was no way to unstrap the shoe before Jules had his hands around her neck once more.

''
Michael,'' she whimpered, moving back, scooting along the asphalt in a little half circle since she couldn't go backwards.

If there was a time she need Michael Crawford, it was now. Michael of the Special Forces; Michael, cool under fire. Now, she thought frantically. Now is the time he should be riding in on his white horse. Jules was almost there. Jules was so close and looked so horrible that Kathleen couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She was positive, sure in her heart that Michael's marvelous hands would soon be on Jules Porter. He would pull the murderer away from her. He would. . .

Do nothing.

She hadn't even told him where she was going. It was over and she cried out in anticipation of the pain that would soon come. From the corner of her eye she saw movement. Richard was coming to watch. Richard was coming to make sure that she would never tell anyone about his secret. Richard, damn, sick Richard Jacobsen, was coming like the angel of death.

Kathleen stopped moving and, when she did, Jules Porter hesitated. Slowly, so slowly, she lay back on the concrete, aware of everything around her: the liquid rushing through the pipes overhead, the heat of the ground, the heavy breathing of the man who would kill her. Soon she would hear nothing because she would be dead.

Kathleen Cotter began to pray and that was when she heard an all too familiar sound. An explosion accompanied by the sound of buckshot hitting solid objects, pinging off tanks that could be filled with unstable gases, flammable liquids. Not that it mattered. Death had been put on hold, or so she thought. Then she heard something she'd never heard before. It was the sound of buckshot hitting its mark.

She bolted upright just in time to see Jules Porter fall to his knees looking quite surprised that his suit was being soiled by his very own blood. Stunned, Kathleen watched until he was face down on the concrete, so close that she could reach her good foot out and touch his head. Instead, she looked to her right in time to see Sarah and Louise coming straight at her, grim faced but determined.

They knelt beside her, Louise unbuckling Kathleen's shoe and freeing her foot, Sarah cradling the shotgun, just in case. Jules Porter died beside the women who finally wrapped their arms around each other and cried.

''
Four, five, six.''

Louise shook the box and the last of the little white rabbits tumbled out onto the grass. Sarah scooped them up and put them in the hutch as fast as they came.

''
Louise, you should pick them out like this,'' Sarah held the last one by the scruff of the neck and showed her. Louise made a face.

''
It was enough that I drove them all the way here in the car and now you want me to touch them?''

''
No, I don't want you to touch them,'' Sarah said, putting the last little guy away before closing the door.

''
Thank goodness, kiddo. I like you, but I don't like you that much.'' Louise turned toward Michael and took his arm. ''So how does it feel to be a free man?''

Michael cocked a grin and looked over his shoulder. Kathleen and Sarah fell in step behind them. The last place he wanted to be was alone with Louise Booker. ''I don't know yet. I only gave my notice yesterday. How's it feel to be a rich woman.''

''
Great. I don't even have to think about that one. Hey, Kathleen, did I ever say thanks?'' Louise hollered over her one bared shoulder.

''
Nope,'' Kathleen answered.

''
Okay.'' Louise let go of Michael and stepped up onto the porch to get her purse. ''Listen, I've gotta go. I have a nail appointment.'' She held up her right hand. Whoever had been immortalized on those talons of hers had been sufficiently mutilated as to make him or her unrecognizable. Kathleen felt as if she'd lost a friend though she imagined it wouldn't be long until she saw another one on the tip of those nails. They all waved Louise away. It was time for Michael and Kathleen to do the same.

''
We're going to head out too. Thanks, Sarah, lunch was wonderful.''

Michael wrapped his arm around Kathleen who wrapped one right back.

''
I think Lionel would have loved it. He would have been so proud of you,'' Kathleen added. ''Are you going to be okay here, alone?''

Sarah nodded and pulled her new sweater closer around her. It had been a present from Kathleen. It was grey but the buttons were white.

''
I'll be fine. I have my rabbits to take care of and I feel safe again. I can't thank you all enough for that.''

''
Don't include me in that. Kathleen was the one who really put herself on the line.'' Michael smiled and shook his head.

''
And you're the one who explained to the police what Lionel had found. You're the one who exonerated his name. Harold was so pleased.''

Kathleen smiled. Sarah could do worse than Harold, but she doubted she could do better. Kathleen touched Sarah's shoulder. Kissing her cheek had never quite seemed right.

''
We're happy, too. It looks like everything turned out for the best. Jules isn't dead-''

''
I don't know that that's best,'' Michael mumbled.

''
Richard is in jail. His head is probably still hurting from where you hit him. Carl is under investigation -'' Kathleen talked over him.

''
And O'Doul & Associates isn't closing its doors,'' Sarah added.

''
I have to work somewhere,'' Kathleen said with a shrug. ''Just do me a favor. Put the shotgun away. Much as I appreciate what you did, I don't want to be defending you any time soon.''

''
I promise,'' Sarah said softly. Michael was the one to kiss her good-bye. When they got in the car Kathleen lay back in the seat and watched the trees of the canyon turn to highway, the highway turn to freeway and before she knew it they were walking along the dock toward the Gentle Reminder.

''
Can you make it?''

Kathleen looked at her straight skirt and didn't think twice. The day was over. No more meetings with Bob Morton. No more court. The office was closed for a long, long weekend. She didn't think twice. Kicking off her shoes, she handed them to him along with her bag. She hitched up her skirt and was on deck in the blink of an eye. Michael kissed her, she kissed back and they smiled at one another.

''
I'm going to change,'' Kathleen whispered.

''
I'm going to cast off.''

She went below, he went aft and ten minutes later they had both done what they needed to do. Kathleen recline in the deck chair. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her head was thrown back, her short blond hair was ruffled by the breeze as they headed out to sea. She didn't hear him coming but she felt his hands on the arms of the chair, then she felt him tip up her sunglasses. She kept her opened her eyes and looked at him.

''
I love your face,'' she whispered.

He touched her cheek. There was no powder, no blush. He kissed her lips. They were tinged pink but the Cover Girl had been left behind.

''
I love yours, too, Kathleen Cotter. It has such - character.''

Look For The Witness Series by Rebecca Forster

HOSTILE WITNESS

SILENT WITNESS

PRIVILEGED WITNESS

Other Books by Rebecca Forster

BEFORE HER EYES

KEEPING COUNSEL

BEYOND MALICE

THE MENTOR

SEASONS (contemporary women's fiction)