Silent Witness (9 page)

* * *

He crouched in the heavy brush and watched the scene unfold with interest. His hands trembled slightly when he raised the binoculars to his face. He wasn’t sure whether the shaking was due to needing a fix or whether it was caused by the nonstop nagging voice of his conscience. Sure, things weren’t happening the way he’d planned. He’d never intended to kill that kid’s parents. He’d just wanted to square things with the dad.

One thing led to another and the whole mess blew up in his face.

He glanced over at what was left of the wreckage. The fire was out. The road had been reopened and the crowd had dispersed. The last of the fire trucks were rolling up their hoses and preparing to leave.

He hadn’t wanted to shoot the tires out from under the sheriff’s car, either. His conscience yelled long and loud about that one. But what choice did he have? He had to make sure that kid couldn’t tell anyone what happened that night—not ever—even if it meant that others would become collateral damage.

He couldn’t believe that all three of them made it out without more than some cuts and bruises. What kind of luck was that? Anyone else would have been killed in the wreckage either from the high speed of the crash or from the explosion.

He adjusted the zoom lens and brought the adults into focus.

Great! Now a woman and a dog had joined the party. This hole he’d dug for himself just kept getting deeper and deeper. What was he going to do now?

He slipped the binoculars into their case, backed up through the brush and made his way to his car. He had to gain control of the situation fast, before things got worse. He had to stop worrying about killing innocent people and just get the job done.

He wasn’t a bad guy. It was just rotten circumstances—survival of the fittest—them or him. And when it came to survival, he knew one thing for certain. When all of this was said and done, he had every intention of being the last one standing. All he needed was to come up with a foolproof plan.

But first he needed a fix.

SIX

L
iz turned up the graveled driveway and the breath caught in her throat when the white-pillared house appeared.

Please, Lord, don’t let this be a bad idea. Please don’t let our human errors hurt this child any more.

“Home. Home. Home.” Jeremy’s voice rose with excitement. He rocked forcefully back and forth in his car seat.

Liz eased to a stop right in front of the burgundy door. She turned off the ignition and just sat there, her heart hammering in her chest, her hands trembling.

Charlie pulled up behind them with Rerun crated in the back of her SUV but she, too, turned off the engine and waited.

Adam circled the vehicle and helped Jeremy out of his car seat. The boy ran, opened the door and raced inside.

Liz could hear Jeremy’s voice drifting back through the open doorway.

“Mommy. Jeremy wants Mommy.”

Her feet felt as if they were encased in cement but she forced herself to follow the child into the house. She stood in the foyer, unable to take another step.

Jeremy raced through the living room, dining room, study, kitchen, foyer and back again in a never-ending circle. Adam followed close behind. In each room, when he found it empty, Adam would get down on one knee, turn the boy’s face so he could look the child in the eyes, and say, “Mommy and Daddy are together in Heaven. They are not coming back. But Jeremy is safe. Jeremy is going to be okay.”

Jeremy would pull out of Adam’s hold and race to the next room. “Mommy. Jeremy needs Mommy.”

Adam followed close behind. In each room, he gave Jeremy a chance to search it. Then he’d kneel eye level with the child and repeat the same four sentences, always assuring Jeremy that he was safe and that he would be okay.

The child cried and ran from room to room, calling for a mother that couldn’t answer, and Liz thought she was going to be sick to her stomach. Tears burned behind her eyes, and her throat constricted so tightly she was barely able to breathe. She almost hated Adam for the pain he was causing the child by bringing him here.

The ritual went on for hours. The child would calm down, be distracted by other things, like his exercise room or his computer, and then he’d stand up and start calling and looking again.

Adam never left the child’s side. He kept his voice low and comforting. He kept his sentences short. He repeated the same sentences over and over again.

Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, Jeremy seemed to settle down. He’d stay for longer periods of time at his computer. He’d sit in his little rocker in the exercise room and hug his bear. He even ate a sandwich and piece of fruit that Charlie had prepared and brought upstairs.

Liz felt like a fish out of water and of no help. She simply stood by and watched. She’d been right. They never should have brought the boy back to this house. Why hadn’t she listened to her own instincts instead of trusting a man who had proved himself untrustworthy? Unable to watch the scene any longer, she went downstairs and sat in a chair on the front porch.

She’d called Sal and made sure the investigation was proceeding as requested. When he heard the break in her voice, he reminded her that she didn’t have to go through with this. They could—and should—put the child in protective custody far, far away. A small part inside her wanted to do just that.

But another voice, a louder voice, wanted to believe that Adam could help Jeremy with both the loss of his parents and his memories of the trauma. She wanted to believe that more than anything else because this child was special. He made her feel things she didn’t understand. Feelings she’d never had before—and didn’t want to have. She was a career woman and had no room in her life or her heart for a child. Her brain knew it. Why didn’t her heart?

Liz stared out into the darkness. The gentle summer night’s breeze ruffled her hair and kissed her cheeks. It was a welcome relief after the stifling heat and humidity. Ordinarily, sitting here would be peaceful, enjoyable.

But not tonight.

Change was in the air and it wasn’t just the weather.

A heaviness weighed on her shoulders. A deep, unsettling feeling crept up her spine and twisted her stomach into knots. These weren’t rational feelings easily backed up with physical evidence. No one had warned her about a future problem. But something bad was coming. She felt it all the way down to her soul.

It wasn’t what she saw or heard that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up and her spine to stiffen. It was what she didn’t.

It was the stillness.

The absolute silence.

The presence of evil.

She wrapped her arms around herself as a chill skittered through her body. She didn’t know who…or when…or how…but she’d be ready. She refused to let this innocent boy fall victim to any more pain.

* * *

Charlie told him that Liz had been outside for hours. Once he was certain that Jeremy was asleep for the night, he asked her to keep an ear out if Jeremy woke up, and he went downstairs.

Knowing only Charlie and Jeremy had eaten, he fixed a couple of sandwiches, some chips and sliced apples and carried them to the porch.

Liz had lit a half-dozen candles, which illuminated the area enough to see but wasn’t as glaring a light as the porch lamp. It was still enough light to catch the angry expression on her face. He’d barely set a plate beside her and sat down before she attacked.

“I told you not to bring him here. I can’t believe what you put that child through. That was torture!” Her voice rose and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I don’t know what ever made me think I could trust you.”

He winced at her barb but understood her reason for it.

“Liz, Jeremy’s going to be okay.”

“What? You think if you follow me from room to room saying Jeremy’s going to be okay that suddenly I will just believe it?”

He took a deep breath. How was he going to make her understand? Ease her pain? Start to listen to the things he needed to say to her? Right now it was brick wall after brick wall.

“Jeremy’s asleep in his own bed in his own room. Jeremy is okay.”

She shot him a look of disbelief and disgust. “If Jeremy is asleep, it is because the child collapsed out of sheer exhaustion after everything that happened to him today.”

He tried another tactic. “Try to eat. I made a sandwich for you. You haven’t eaten all day.” He nudged the plate to the edge of the table.

She stood up and shot another glare his way. “My relief gets here at eleven. Meanwhile, for your own safety, I suggest you go inside.”

He looked deep into her eyes and wondered for a split second if he was in more danger from the bad guy or from her.

“I’m going to walk the perimeter. Don’t be here when I get back.”

He stared at her retreating back and prayed things would be easier in the morning.

* * *

Liz couldn’t believe what a difference a couple of days made. She watched Jeremy and Rerun romp together in the backyard. It was hard to believe that this was the same child who had sobbed and run from room to room searching for his mother only three days ago.

Jeremy, who was rolling on the ground, poked and prodded Rerun in a lame attempt to keep the dog away. Rerun didn’t seem to mind Jeremy’s pushes and shoves. Instead, the dog used his head and snout to rock the boy back and forth on the lawn.

Jeremy seemed to be enjoying this game with his new furry friend. The child’s high-pitched giggles filled the air and brought a smile to Liz’s face. She hadn’t heard the boy laugh before and the sound played like a favorite song she wished would never end.

“I told you that you could trust Rerun. He knows what he’s doing.”

Liz turned and smiled at Charlie who leaned against the opposite door frame. “Good morning, Charlie.” Liz reached out and accepted the mug of coffee Charlie offered. “Thanks.” She took a sip of the hot liquid and hoped the caffeine would kick her energy level to high gear since right now it felt like she was operating on fumes.

“Figured you needed it. Sleep-deprived human beings usually do.” Charlie shrugged and grinned. “But maybe you’re not human at all. Three days ago, I pegged you for superwoman status. Setting up an office in the house. Running a police station remotely yet still staying on top of investigations and officers and yet never taking your eyes off of Jeremy…or Adam and I.”

Heat flooded Liz’s cheeks at the inference, but she just sipped her coffee and remained silent.

“But maybe instead of superwoman you are really superhuman. You might be an alien hiding out in human skin. What do you say?” Charlie grinned wider, as though pleased with herself, and took a sip from her own cup.

Liz chuckled. “You never can tell. I don’t feel very human this morning, that’s for sure.”

“Jeremy, don’t hit,” Charlie yelled out to Jeremy. “No hitting.”

Jeremy pretended he didn’t hear but both women noticed his pushes and shoves subtly turned into pats and hugs. When it was evident the dog was in no danger of being hurt, she relaxed back against the door frame.

“It’s good to hear him laugh, isn’t it?” Charlie nodded in Jeremy’s direction. “No sweeter sound for sure.”

Liz’s heart clenched. Almost from the moment she’d found the child huddled beneath the pile of blankets in his mother’s closet, all she had wanted to do was hold the boy in her arms, rock him, kiss him and not let anyone or anything ever hurt him again. She didn’t understand why these maternal feelings had rushed to the surface. She’d been with sick children, injured children and abused children before. She’d felt empathy for their situation but she’d never felt such deep personal emotion. She wasn’t sure why and she definitely didn’t know what to do about it.

“The poor kid hasn’t had much to laugh about lately, has he?” Charlie smiled at her over the rim of her coffee. “But that seems to be changing. Adam is doing a wonderful job with him. Don’t you think?” Before Liz could answer, she said, “Jeremy is taking to Rerun quicker than I expected, too. I think the two of them are a good match.”

“Thanks, Charlie. I appreciate all you’ve done for Jeremy the past couple of days.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m only doing what Adam hired me to do. Maybe you should thank him.” She gestured inside with her mug and then stepped off the porch to join the dog and the boy on the lawn.

Liz remained in the doorway and watched the scene in front of her a little longer. She watched as Charlie sat cross-legged beside Jeremy. She petted Rerun and encouraged the boy to pet not push. She had infinite patience and always wore a smile on her face. Jeremy liked Charlie, Liz could tell. He quieted down in her presence. He echoed her sentences and followed most of her requests.

Liz liked Charlie, too.

She had to admit she hadn’t when they first met. The petite redheaded beauty represented all the gals in high school that Liz had always wished she could be and never was. The cheerleaders. The prom queens. The tiny, doll-like, curvy females that Liz towered over. She remembered tons of times she’d tried to bargain with God. She begged him to please let her stop growing taller than many men, to please let her have wider hips and a smaller waist.

But God had other plans.

Liz grew to five-eleven and had a thick waist and narrow hips. Her mother had told her a hundred times that she was lucky she was slender, lithe, athletic. But she hadn’t ever felt lucky. All she’d wanted was to be one of the pretty little Barbie gals. She was angry and sorely disappointed when God’s answer was no.

Thinking those painful adolescent years were way behind her, Liz was caught off guard when they surfaced again the first time she set eyes on Charlie. It was all she could do to stifle the unexpected tsunami of jealousy that swept over her when she saw Charlie’s arms wrapped around Adam’s neck. Fifteen years ago or not, she still wasn’t pleased to see another woman in Adam’s arms. She was fully prepared to dislike her with a passion.

But no one could dislike Charlie—not even her.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

A warm shiver raced up and down her spine at the sound of Adam’s voice. She could almost feel the touch of his breath on the back of her neck. She wanted to lean against the rock-hard wall of his chest and tuck his arms around her. But sanity prevailed.
Been there. Done that. Ain’t doing it again. Hurts too much when it’s over.