Key Witness (2 page)

“It’s going to be okay,” he told the teller. Her eyes drifted shut, as if she were losing consciousness. He had to keep her lucid until the paramedics got in here.

“They’re on their way!” Elle shouted from the door. “Over here!”

A moment later, two EMTs came into view, pulling a stretcher behind them. Elle closed her eyes, as if praying. This teller was going to need some prayers, not just to recover from the physical wounds but to overcome the emotional impact of what had just happened to her, too. He lifted up a prayer, as well.

As soon as the EMTs took over, Denton stood, his hands and undershirt now covered with blood. But he was alive. As of right now, they were all alive. The police began swarming the place and soon Denton would have to give his account of the incident. For now he was satisfied to know that everyone else was okay.

Elle approached him, taking in the sight of his blood-stained hands. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. That was a gutsy move on your part, though.”

“I saw an opportunity and had to take it.” She shoved her hands into her coat and pulled out the phone.

He reached for it. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Denton opened the phone, anxious to see if the robbers had any personal identification on the device. He scrolled through the menu, but saw no names or phone numbers saved.

“Probably untraceable.”

Elle nodded and pulled a hair behind her ear. “I figured as much.”

Suddenly, the phone buzzed in his hand. Elle’s eyes met his. “Is someone calling?”

Denton noted the Unknown Caller on the screen before flipping the phone open. “Looks like a text message.”

Elle leaned over his shoulder. “What does it say?”

Denton’s throat felt dry as he read the words. He glanced up at Elle, trying to soften the message. It was no use. “It says, ‘I’ll find you and kill you.’”

TWO

E
lle held a cold compress to her cheek and leaned back into the padded leather chair at the police station. All of the witnesses from the bank had been questioned separately, and Elle had poured out everything she could remember. Right now, her cheek and head throbbed, and she desperately wanted to go home, take a long bath and fall asleep.

Sleep. She wanted a restful sleep, but knew she’d have nightmares for a long time about what had happened. The violence she’d seen today was so out of the realm of her upright—perhaps uptight—little world.

One of the officers went to get her some water, so she stood and stretched for a moment. Were the other witnesses still here? Suddenly, the room she was in felt too small and suffocating.

She stepped into the hallway and heard Denton’s voice in the distance. She followed the sound, for some reason finding comfort in the man’s presence. She crept down the hallway until she reached another office, this one with the door open. Denton sat across from a detective, leaning back in his chair as if exhausted. His voice still sounded steady and strong, though, as it drifted into the hallway.

“One of the men was definitely more dominant. If I had to guess based on his speech pattern, he’s from the Northwest and most likely a blue-collar worker. He had a slight limp and, from the way he carried himself, I’d say he was in his mid- to late-twenties.” Denton spotted Elle and straightened. “Hey there.”

She stepped into the office, lowering the compress to get a better look at Denton. “You picked up on all of that?”

He shrugged, a hint of cockiness in the action. “I’m good at being observant.”

“I thought I was, too, but I didn’t notice half of that.”

The phone rang and the detective across the desk held up a finger as if to say “wait.” Elle leaned in the doorway, watching the detective’s expression change from serious to disgusted. She braced herself as he hung up and turned to them. “That was the officer I sent to the hospital. He told me that the teller just passed away. This investigation has just moved from armed robbery to homicide.”

Elle’s heart sank. She’d hoped the EMTs had arrived in time and that everything would be okay. She sank into the chair beside Denton, suddenly light-headed.

“She was saving to go to college, you know.” Julie’s bright, smiling face stained her memory. “She wanted to be a teacher.”

Denton raised an eyebrow. “She told you that? Were you friends?”

Elle shrugged. “I’ve been going into that bank every week for the past three years. You start to feel like you know each other. Her life was worth so much more than the money those men got away with.”

“Three thousand dollars is what the bank manager calculated,” the detective said. “You can’t put a price on a life. The K-9s are trying to follow the robbers’ scent now. We’re also checking all of the surveillance video from around the area. We’re going to get the sketches and description of the men out to the media in time for the evening news, we hope. Between all of those things, I’m hopeful that we’ll get these guys.”

Denton shifted in his seat. “I’m not so sure you’re going to catch them.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Something about the entire setup is bugging me. I mean, Julie cooperated with them. She gave them all the money she could, but they still shot her. That doesn’t make sense to me. Why would they shoot her? The dominant robber didn’t even hesitate.”

“What are you getting at?” the detective asked.

“It was almost like they went into the bank with the intention of killing someone.” Denton shook his head. “It sounds terrible, but that’s what my gut is telling me.”

An officer stepped into the room, his gaze focused on Elle. “Ms. Philips, your father is here to see you. I told him you were almost done, but he insisted on seeing you right away.”

Before Elle could even stand, her father rushed into the room. Two of his men shadowed him, remaining right outside the door. “Elle, sweetheart, are you okay? I was so worried when I heard what happened.”

She nodded and fell into his arms. “I’m fine, Dad. Just a few cuts and bruises.” She stepped back. “Dad, this is Denton—”

“Mark Denton,” her father interrupted, a grin stretched across his face. He extended his hand and pumped it up and down. “Good to see you again.”

“Senator Philips.”

Elle looked back and forth between them. “You know each other?”

Her father placed his hand on Denton’s shoulder. “Denton has worked security detail for me in the past.”

Elle’s gaze fixated on Denton. She realized there was so much she didn’t know about the man. “Security detail?”

A hint of a smile curled Denton’s lips. “I’m a private security contractor.”

Elle nodded as the truth seemed to settle over her. “No wonder you handled yourself so well during the robbery.”

Her father turned to her and nodded slowly—what Elle called his “thoughtful politician nod.” The senator added, “He’s the best, of course, because I only hire the best.”

Denton rubbed his five o’clock shadow before resting his hands on his hips. “Your daughter called 9–1–1 when one of the robbers dropped his phone. The operator heard what was going on in the background and put a trace on the phone. The police were just two blocks away when dispatch called them. I think we’re lucky that only one life was lost today.”

“That’s my girl. She thinks quickly on her feet, just like I raised her. She didn’t graduate at the top of her class from Yale because of luck.” Her dad’s eyes shone with pride.

Elle had to tell her father the rest of the story. “But Dad—”

“I know. The robber threatened you. He seemed to put it together that you were the one who found his phone. The detective filled me in when he called me.”

The detective called him? Of course he had. Her father had connections all throughout the state—the country, for that matter. An incident involving a senator’s daughter wouldn’t be taken lightly. “I was the only one close by in the area where he’d been standing. He must have put it together.”

“I’m used to getting threats. I don’t like it when my little girl gets them, though.” Elle could see the concern in her father’s eyes. But just hearing him call her “little” in public tore at the image she’d tried to build of herself as a self-sufficient career woman.

“I’m not little anymore, Daddy.”

Her father grinned. “You’ll always be little to me, no matter how old you are.”

Denton shoved his hands down into his pockets. “The good news is that these robbers can’t be the brightest bulbs in the socket. One of them did leave his cell phone at the scene of the crime. That alone should merit an article in the ‘Stupid Criminal’ section of the news.”

Elle sucked in a deep breath at the mention of an article. How could she have forgotten?

“What is it?” Denton leaned toward her.

She licked her lips, her gaze meeting her father’s. “There’s an article about me running in tomorrow’s paper. It’s a feature piece about my life and my work with my dad.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “If the robbers didn’t know who I was today, they’re going to find out soon.”

* * *

Denton had seen Elle’s face go from pale to even paler throughout the course of the day. But as she remembered the article, her face went stark white. The article would apparently put everything out there about her and, if the robbers saw it, they’d have all they needed to track her down.

“You can stay with us tonight.” His father hooked his arm around her neck. “I’m sure they’ll catch these guys soon. You just lay low until then.”

“Can you call the paper and see if they can pull it?” Denton asked.

“I can try, but it’s late. The paper has probably already gone to press.”

“How big of an article is it?”

Elle shrugged. “I’m not sure. Hopefully it will be buried on the last page, right? After all, I’m not that interesting. What could they possible say about me?”

Denton was sure a reporter could find a lot to say about the daughter of a prominent senator who was up for reelection. Elle didn’t seem like the naive type, though. Certainly she realized that, also.

She extended her hand. “Denton, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances...”

He grasped her hand, surprised at her skin’s softness. “I understand.”

Her father ushered her away. As soon as she was gone, Denton missed her. The woman had intelligent eyes, a courageous spirit and drop-dead gorgeous looks—petite and trim with an olive complexion, long, dark hair with just a touch of curl, and warm brown eyes. It wasn’t that he was looking for a relationship. No, he wasn’t ready for another one of those yet. But the woman was a nice distraction from the rather grueling hours he’d spent staring evil in the face.

Right now, as she left, Denton had the urge to go with her, to be that extra set of eyes in case the robbers—killers, now—somehow tracked her down. But he didn’t know the woman well enough to simply tag along. Besides, her dad was a senator. He could afford protection if she needed it.

An officer was waiting to take him back to his SUV, still parked in the lot at the bank. He needed to drive back to the Iron, Inc. headquarters. The organization, also known as Eyes, was an elite paramilitary security firm. They only hired the best—former special operations officers, FBI and CIA agents and other heroes of law enforcement. Denton was holding down the fort, so to speak, while his boss, Jack Sergeant, was on his honeymoon.

Every time he thought of Jack’s marriage, his heart panged with both joy for his friend and sadness for himself. How long had it been now since Wendi passed away? Two years? Sometimes it felt like decades, and other moments it seemed like just yesterday.

They’d been married only for three years when she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She died two years later. They’d enjoyed every moment they had, holding on to the hope that they’d grow old and gray together. That dream didn’t happen, though.

No one had caught his eye since Wendi. So why couldn’t he get Elle out of his mind? What was it about the woman that intrigued him so much? The last thing he wanted was a relationship. He still hadn’t gotten over the heartbreak of losing Wendi, and sometimes he doubted he ever would.

His mind drifted to that article that Elle had mentioned. What unfortunate timing.

Buried. Yes, he hoped that article would be buried among others, and that the robbers didn’t bother reading the newspaper. Hopefully they could simply move on from this tragedy today, and Elle would piece back together her life as it was before she watched someone she knew get fatally wounded in front of her.

He prayed today would be the end of this nightmare. So why did he have the feeling it wasn’t?

* * *

Elle hadn’t even made it down the steps and to the breakfast table when her dad stopped her and held up the newspaper. There on the front page was a picture of Elle, smiling with her feet propped up on her desk and her dad’s picture on the table behind her.

So much for the story getting buried.

“Lovely picture, darling.” Her father kissed her cheek, but his eyes still wore a scowl. “This is great publicity careerwise, but terrible publicity in light of what happened yesterday.”

“Did they misquote me again?”

“If they did, they only made you sound better, if that’s possible. In fact, they made you sound quite genius. I only wish the article hadn’t come out now. I’m really quite worried.”

She took the paper and began reading as she walked to the kitchen for her first cup of coffee. The article profiled her work for her father as campaign manager, calling her the “brains” behind his reelection campaign. It highlighted her educational accomplishments, as well as her reign as Miss Virginia. Each of the carefully plotted-out details of her life, all which had run a smooth course thus far.

Too bad she was becoming more and more restless with each passing day. She wanted more than anything to help with her father’s reelection campaign, but a career in politics was something she was ready to put behind her.

Elle folded the paper as her mother—who already looked picture-perfect with her dark, chin-length hair carefully styled, her makeup applied and her business-casual outfit crisp—hurried into the room with a touch-pad computer in hand.

She squeezed Elle’s shoulder before sitting across from her. “Morning, darling.”

“Morning, Mother.”

She placed the computer on the table and an electronic version of Elle’s article stared up at them. “Nice article, dear. I’ve already gotten several emails about it. Bob Allen, eat your heart out if you think you’re going to win this election.”

“Bob Allen is behind in the polls by eight percent. There’s no way he’ll beat us.”

Her mother winked at her. “That’s the spirit.” She leaned toward her and squinted. “That’s a nasty bump on your cheek. You tried any concealer?”

“Not yet.”

“Be sure before your father’s debate tonight, okay?”

The debate tonight. Elle had almost forgotten. Images of Julie at the bank yesterday had squeezed out any other thoughts. How could life go on after a tragedy like that? How could her family talk as if nothing had happened?

She already knew the answer to that. If it didn’t involve politics, it didn’t involve her family.

Though her parents loved her, Elle was certain that their first thought after what happened yesterday, right after her safety, was “How can we spin this to our advantage?” Such was the nature of politics.

Elle finished breakfast and retreated to the sunroom. Work was the best distraction for her at the moment. She pulled up the email on her laptop, leaned back into the cushy wicker chair and took a sip of coffee.

Before she could get too involved with her work, her mind drifted to Denton. She’d enjoyed chatting with him every week at the bank. It was too bad that those memories would forever be scarred. But maybe it was better that way. Denton seemed like just the kind of man she could fall for—only he was the type that she
shouldn’t
fall for. The type who’d only break her heart. She knew the personality of someone with his job description—they always lived for the next adventure, always looked forward to taking the next risk. She’d learned the hard way that men like that weren’t the type to commit.