Kathleen Tailer

The Reluctant Witness


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and moved as if she were going to get up, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her escape. Her expression was guarded.

      “Do you have my gun?”

      “I do, but I unloaded it and put it away. I didn’t want Chloe to get curious.”

      He loosened his grip. That made sense. Children and guns didn’t mix. “What about my satchel? It was black leather with a silver buckle. Do you have it?” He tried to remember what had happened to it. Had Stevens taken it? A foggy memory seemed to suggest that, but he couldn’t be sure. All he could really remember was the fire in Stevens’s eyes right before he had pulled the trigger.

      Casey shook her head again. “No. I didn’t see a satchel anywhere around when I found you.”

      That was disappointing. No, it was devastating. The laptop and papers he’d discovered were the only lead he’d found. He’d been desperately hoping that they held evidence that would actually support his theories. Now he was virtually back to square one in his investigation. No, worse than square one, because this time he didn’t even have a partner to watch his back—or shove a knife in it.

      He grimaced as he remembered Stevens’s betrayal. His partner’s reprehensible acts caused a wave of anger to surge within him, and he fisted his hands and tried to sit up. Casey reached over and gently pushed him back down. “I don’t think moving around right now is a really great idea.”

      “I need to get that bag,” he said roughly.

      Casey nodded. “Okay. I can go look for it later, but right now you need to rest. You can’t go gallivanting around the countryside until you’ve healed up. If it’s still there now, it will still be there in an hour or so. Right? I promise I’ll go look for it when I go out in a few minutes.”

      Jack groaned as pain shot through his wounds, and he quit moving. He closed his eyes for a moment while he regrouped, then opened them again and glanced at the way he was dressed. “Where did these clothes come from?” He was clad in gray shorts and a navy T-shirt—neither of which he recognized.

      “This cabin belongs to a friend of mine, and you two are about the same size. He had some spare clothes in a drawer, so I borrowed them for you. I know he won’t mind.”

      Jack took the information in. He knew he was asking a lot of questions all at once, but he just couldn’t help himself. “You said I’ve been here four days, right?”

      “Yes,” she agreed.

      “Four days, and you still didn’t want to call an ambulance?” He paused, but didn’t get a reply. “Does anyone else know I’m here?”

      Jack could see the hesitance in her eyes. When she answered, her voice was shaking. “No. We don’t have a phone and we live in a very remote area.”

      He raised an eyebrow at her and she rushed on with her explanation. “Don’t get the wrong idea. You’re not a prisoner. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll drive you down the mountain and take you to a hospital or wherever you want to go.”

      He reached over and grabbed her arm. “What if I said I was ready now?” He wasn’t really. He still needed to discover the extent of his partner’s betrayal and talk to his unit chief before he showed his face in public. Jack also knew he was in no condition to travel anywhere, yet he wanted to know her response just the same.

      She looked a bit surprised but finally shrugged. “Then I’ll drive you down. Just let me get my coat.”

      A moment passed, then another as he gauged her reaction. Finally he sank back. “I doubt I could make it to the car yet. I’d better stay a couple more days.” He squeezed her arm, then released her. Although he knew something wasn’t right about her situation, he was pretty sure she meant him no harm. In fact, it was obvious that he would have died if she hadn’t come to his aid. She was definitely hiding something, but whatever her secret was, she’d risked it by taking him in, with nothing to gain from helping him.

      “Thank you, Princess, for everything you’ve done. You saved my life.”

      She looked at him and their eyes met. “You’re welcome.”

      He had never seen such striking eyes outside of a storybook. They were such a clear blue that he felt like he was looking at a warm summer sky. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail again, which only served to accent her high cheekbones and full lips. He guessed that she was in her late twenties, which seemed odd to him because most women in their twenties that he knew didn’t live out in the middle of nowhere with a young girl. What was she doing out here? And where were Chloe’s parents?

      “How long have you been living here?” he asked, and was immediately alerted when her eyes darted away again.

      She seemed to be considering something, because eventually she made a decision and looked back at him with determination written all over her face.

      “Look, Jack, I might as well tell you up-front. We value our privacy out here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to recuperate, but please don’t ask a lot of questions. I won’t lie to you, but I won’t answer you, either. Okay?”

      Jack studied her carefully. He didn’t believe for one minute that her reticence was due to privacy concerns, but he could be patient if he needed to. If he paid close attention, both Casey and Chloe would probably let bits of information slip in normal conversation. Being an investigator was too ingrained in him to just let this mystery go. And that meant he had to try to ask at least one more question.

      “Can you at least tell me your name?”

      She looked surprised. “I already told you. It’s Casey.”

      “Casey what?”

      “Just Casey is fine.”

      Jack leaned toward her, then grimaced as pain shot through his shoulder. “Look, I’m not trying to give you a hard time or be rude, but you must realize that I’m an FBI agent, and your behavior is suspicious, even for a woman who values her privacy.”

      “I can’t help that, Jack. I’m not a princess and I’m not a puzzle. I’m just a woman who enjoys a quiet life who’s trying to make her way through the world.” She gave him a smile that told him the subject was closed, then picked up the old bandages and disappeared. He watched her go, more intrigued than ever.

      What was her story? Better yet, what was her full name? And most importantly, what had happened that made her feel she had to hide? She was brave enough to rescue a stranger and perform surgeries to save his life. So why did she seem so afraid?

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