Sarah Varland

Cold Case Witness


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going to have to talk about this later. About me believing you and about that look on your face.”

      He could read her so easily?

      * * *

      Matt didn’t feel comfortable leaving Gemma alone, even for a few minutes. This case was growing messier by the minute, and it looked as though the star witness in the stolen antiques trial from a decade ago might be poised to become the only witness in a murder case.

      Even if he didn’t have a bit of a personal interest in her, her safety was too important to get sloppy about this.

      So he stepped onto the front deck to meet Clay, leaving the door open six inches or so. He’d only be out here for a second.

      “What’s the emergency? You’re going to have to connect some dots for me, man. I didn’t go into work today.”

      “You heard about the body, though.” Matt didn’t doubt that for a second. First of all, Clay had law enforcement habits embedded too deep to have turned off the scanner all day, even for fishing. He was too protective of the town he was protecting during the hours he was on duty to ignore it just because he was off. Second, Treasure Point was a small town. Matt couldn’t remember the last murder they’d had.

      This would be news everywhere for a long time.

      “Just that there was one. At the Hamilton place?”

      Matt nodded.

      “What is it about that place that attracts trouble?” Clay gave a fake shudder and Matt knew he was remembering a case they’d worked a year or so ago, one involving Shiloh and her past. They’d been present for the final showdown, which had taken place underground in a series of tunnels that led to the old house, and while everything had turned out well, it could have just as easily turned out ugly.

      “It’s in the woods, just out of town...” There were plenty of reasons the place seemed like a crime magnet.

      “Yeah. Tell me about this one.”

      Matt shook his head. “I will. Inside. I have a...” What did he call her? She wasn’t officially a witness yet. Saying he had a woman inside just sounded as though he had some kind of date, which hadn’t been true for him in years. Women in his dating pool wanted to settle down, raise families, and no one wanted to consider doing that with a man whose dad was a felon.

      “You have a what?”

      Clay’s gaze moved behind Matt and he turned slightly to see that Gemma had walked up behind him. He took in her appearance again, trying to see her through Clay’s eyes. A dark purple fitted T-shirt that somehow managed to highlight the honey flecks in her brown eyes, and comfy sweatpants. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked as if she’d put zero effort into her appearance, but she could draw the attention of anyone she wanted.

      And the attention of those she wouldn’t want, too. Like himself. Yeah, Matt was pretty sure he was down on the list pretty close to last as far as people she’d ever want to get involved with. No way she’d trust him after the way his family’s past had affected hers.

      And he didn’t blame her. People could move on, but they couldn’t erase things that had happened, could they?

      “Matt?”

      Clay’s eyebrows were raised and the smirk on his face hinted that this might not have been the first time he’d called his name.

      Oops.

      “This is Gemma Phillips.” Matt switched to his all-business police officer voice, introducing them since Clay had moved to town about a year after Gemma had graduated and move to Atlanta. Clay’s amusement didn’t dim at all. Yeah, his friend knew him too well for that.

      “She has something to do with you calling me over here when I was fishing?”

      Matt hesitated, not sure how to say it.

      “Somebody’s trying to kill me.”

      “You don’t sugarcoat things, do you? Why don’t y’all let me come inside so we can shut this door and talk...” Clay’s voice trailed off. Matt and Gemma stepped back almost in sync and Clay moved inside, toward the kitchen. Matt locked the door tightly behind him, still not sure what their best next step was. Were they being watched? Should he head outside to canvas the perimeter?

      He looked over at Gemma again. She was a strong woman. He’d always thought so. But leaving her inside, even with a gun—provided she knew how to use one, as he suspected a Southern woman like her would—didn’t feel like the right choice.

      “The house is secure already?” Clay turned to Matt to confirm. Matt nodded.

      “There doesn’t seem to be an immediate threat,” he admitted. “But someone is after her, and he seems to know she’s here.” He explained about the text message.

      “Have you checked things out outside?”

      He shook his head.

      “He didn’t want to leave me alone,” Gemma chimed.

      Okay, so she was more perceptive than he’d thought. There was a good chance he was underestimating her ability to handle the situation, but he wanted to take care of her. Was that so wrong?

      “I’ll take care of it. Tell me the rest of what’s been going on. Start with the body.”

      Matt gave him the short version. Clay just kind of took it in, nodded and seemed to think about it without saying much.

      Clay was steady, not quick to jump to conclusions. He could spring into action when he needed to on the job and react quickly, too, but if he had the choice, he’d take things slow.

      The opposite of Matt.

      “So far it hasn’t been that bad, right? Besides the carbon monoxide thing?”

      Matt raised his eyebrows at his friend. Seriously, had he been listening? “Isn’t that bad enough? It could have killed her.” The pale shade of Gemma’s face seemed to imply that she agreed with him.

      “Listen, though, he could have shot her, finished things quick and certain. With the gas, there was always a chance she could escape. What if it was a warning? Maybe he figured that if she didn’t die, that would be enough to scare her off, especially when he followed it up with a text message and then coming over here.”

      “So you don’t think it will get worse?”

      Matt wasn’t happy with the lilt of hope in Gemma’s voice. He liked how it sounded, but it was false hope right now, and he couldn’t let her hang on to it. “I don’t think we can say that for sure.” He glared at Clay with a “thanks a lot” kind of expression.

      Gemma’s shoulders fell. Matt noticed for the first time how much more exhausted she looked even than she had after the carbon monoxide incident earlier.

      “All right, if that’s all I need to know, I’ll head out and check things out.”

      “Be careful,” Gemma urged.

      Clay smiled and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I will be.”

      Matt followed him to the door, then locked it behind him after he left. He turned back to Gemma.

      * * *

      Matt’s eyes on hers seemed to look deep into the tangle of fears weaving its way around her heart. His expression had become more serious since the text message. Even though he’d been so insistent earlier that he didn’t want to push her into sharing more about the past than she was comfortable with, Gemma knew the rules had changed at this point. The text message had been a game changer, and everything was going to be different now.

      Her heartbeat quickened and she had to remind herself to breathe deeply as she waited for what he’d say. She couldn’t bring herself to just volunteer the information. She needed him to ask, needed to know that he wanted to be invited into the not-so-pretty sections of her past.