Protecting His Witness. Marie Ferrarella

he was saying into his cell phone less than ten minutes later. After changing, he’d made a quick sweep of the area to make sure that nothing was moved and that no one had entered via the window. There were items he’d left seemingly scattered about, items that he would have been able to tell if they’d been moved even a fraction of an inch.

      Nothing had been touched. And the thin layer of flour along the threshold had been undisturbed. No one had walked through it—although he almost had, he thought with a rueful smile. That had been the first indication that Kasey Madigan had messed with his mind.

      The deep, gravelly voice on the other end said, “Yeah, I know.”

      He should have known. Mike Valdez was always on top of everything. At times, he had a feeling the man didn’t sleep, he just changed his batteries every so often. Valdez’s dedication to the job had cost him two wives and a son.

      “Woman walking her dog this morning discovered the body,” the captain elaborated. “Nearly had a heart attack, they tell me. Didn’t stop screaming until someone came over to see what was wrong. They called in Aurora’s finest. So what happened?” Valdez asked.

      “After the meeting broke up, I followed Seales to an Internet café. I think he’s cheating—was cheating,” Zack corrected himself since everything about the man was now in the past tense, “on his buddies. There were a few people in the café. I didn’t think he saw me, but I guess he must have. When he slipped out the back, I did too. That was when he jumped me. He was waiting right at the door,” Zack explained, irritated with himself for not being prepared. “Probably thought I was going to rat him out to Randall,” he guessed, mentioning the name of the current leader of the identity-theft ring that he was dogging.

      A roach ran over the toe of his boot as he talked. He stepped on it with his other foot, grinding it into nothingness. Spiders he didn’t mind, but roaches were a different story. Roaches were filthy. He hated roaches.

      “Why don’t you present that to Randall?” Valdez suggested. Zack could almost hear the wheels in the man’s head turning. “Tell him that your suspicions were aroused by Seales’s actions and you were just following a hunch. Things got out of hand, he tried to kill you, you fought back.”

      Zack switched the phone to his other ear. He supposed it was worth a try. “You don’t think my cover’s been blown?”

      “Only one way to find out,” Valdez theorized. A chuckle followed his statement.

      “Right,” Zack sighed. He was going to march back into the lion’s den—and hope the lion’s already had lunch. “You know where to ship my body if something goes wrong, right?”

      Valdez blew off the implication behind the words. He operated as if his men were invulnerable. “Hey, from what I hear, the Cavanaughs have always been damn lucky. Rumor has it that you’re becoming one of them by proxy—real soon.”

      Since the wedding involved the chief of detectives, Zack was fairly certain that the topic was number one when it came to making the rounds at the precinct. “Nothing gets by you, does it, Captain?”

      “Just my ex-wives’ infidelities,” the man cracked dryly. “Never saw either one coming until it was too late. By the way, the uniforms on the scene said there was a lot of blood behind the Internet café. Lab makes it out to be two different blood types.” There was a pause, as if the man was waiting for him to say something. He didn’t. “You get hurt, McIntyre?”

      Zack looked down at his shirt. He still hadn’t buttoned it and the bandage around his rib cage was visible. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

      “Keep it that way,” Valdez ordered.

      “I’ll sure try, Captain.” He knew that Valdez was about to go. His superior never talked more than was necessary. “By the way, the punk managed to slash my tires, when I couldn’t begin to guess. I need a ride delivered to the motel.”

      “How did you get to the motel in the first place?”

      He thought about Kasey, then decided Valdez didn’t need to know about her. So he covered his butt by simply saying, “Hitched a ride with an angel.”

      “Never mind.” Anticipating more, Valdez cut him off. “I don’t think I want to know. Car’ll be there soon,” he promised, then abruptly broke the connection.

      “Goodbye, Captain,” Zack murmured sarcastically to the empty air. He flipped the phone closed and was about to put it away. Changing his mind, he flipped open the lid again. He hit a single button that would connect him to a preprogrammed number that represented the first phone number he’d ever memorized.

      It barely rang once. A breathless “hello?” echoed in his ear.

      He smiled to himself, picturing her as he said, “Hi, Mom.”

      “Zack! Zack, are you all right?” Lila McIntyre demanded, concern vibrating in every syllable.

      Like his late father, his mother was part of the Aurora police force. Years ago, she’d been a detective, partnered with Brian Cavanaugh before a bullet had all but robbed her of the rest of her life. Brian had stopped the flow of blood with his own hand until the paramedics came and most likely saved her life.

      She’d left the force after that to take care of him and his siblings. His father was responsible for that more than her wound was. He gave her no peace until she retired. And even then, he gave her no peace. It had been a hard life for his mother. For all of them.