Targeted Witness, page 3
What on earth had gotten into him? Cassie pulled the door open a little wider, but Ryan didn’t budge. From the hallway behind her, Duke pawed at her bedroom door, but she didn’t dare break her stare down with Ryan.
“Leave it, Duke,” Ryan said.
The dog whined and scratched again.
“Go lie down,” Cassie said, not taking her eyes off Ryan. Duke’s nails clicked on the floor as he made his way to the rug in front of the woodstove. The dog settled, letting out a deep harrumph, leaving no doubt to his displeasure with them.
Ryan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what really happened out there tonight.”
Cassie let the door slam shut and swiftly closed the distance between them. Adrenaline coursing through her, she craned her neck to meet his eye and rose up on her tiptoes. Her retort was about to spill from her lips when she noticed the corded muscles in his neck. The glint in his eyes challenged her, but behind it, Cassie could now see the masked worry and how hard he was working to hide it from her.
This was all her fault. She stared up at the ceiling, inwardly counting to ten. “I already did. Look,” she said calmly, “I’m tired. Can we talk about this some other time?”
“No, we can’t. You’re being targeted, and I want to know why.”
“Targeted? I think you’ve watched too many Castle reruns,” Cassie said, retreating into the living room.
“Someone watched you tonight, tampered with your Jeep and then stalked you through the woods.” He gripped Cassie’s shoulders and turned her to face him. “What would you call it?”
A flurry of emotions ran through her as his eyes searched her face. She pulled out of his grasp and sat down on the hearth, focusing all her attention on petting Duke. “Tampered with my Jeep?” she asked, trying to keep her voice sounding normal.
“Someone pulled the fuse loose so that it wouldn’t start. Someone wanted you walking home tonight.”
Duke sat up, leaning into the scratch behind his left ear. Deliberately, she kept focused on the dog. “It’s the Christmas season, which means lots of tourists and the restaurant was busy. Sarah said a few customers seemed a little shady tonight. Maybe it was one of them.”
Ryan sat down beside her, his arm innocently brushing against hers. “Maybe, but I don’t think so.”
Warmth flowed from him, eroding Cassie’s defenses. How easy it would be to place her hand in his, to feel his arms wrap around her and lose herself in that feeling of security.
“Talk to me.”
Cassie looked away, blinking back tears. “There’s nothing for me to say.”
“Please,” he said, pushing Duke aside and sliding to his knees on the floor in front of her. His penetrating gaze begged her to relent. “Please trust me.”
Cassie’s heart flip-flopped in her chest. “Do we always have to come back to this?”
He shook his head, his cold eyes turning her stomach into a hard lump. He deserved better than this, but she couldn’t provide the answers he wanted.
“You are hiding something. This is not in my head, Cassie,” he said, standing up.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“A normal person doesn’t go to extreme lengths to make sure their restaurant isn’t featured in the paper or reviewed,” Ryan ranted. “A chef of your caliber should covet the attention that Mama Gina’s is getting, but instead, you’re threatening to close up shop. You claim to come from Ann Arbor, Michigan, yet you know nothing about its festivals, have never biked or hiked any of its world-class trails.” He turned, pointing at her bookshelves. “You have no family pictures, photo albums or even mementos from past trips. There is nothing in this house that goes beyond your years in Bakerton. If I didn’t know better, I’d ask if you’re in WITSEC.”
“What?” The shock at hearing him say the words registered on her face, and she played it to her advantage. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m just a private person.”
“It’s more than that. You’re hiding from someone, and from the terror I saw on your face earlier, I think that someone has come to Bakerton.”
Lights of an approaching car shone through the front hall window, causing Cassie to jump to her feet.
“It’s Logan giving me a ride home. I brought your Jeep back. I didn’t want you stranded out here.”
Her pulse slowed. “Thank you. That was thoughtful.” Cassie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, how’d you get the key?”
“I remembered that you gave Sarah a spare set for when she runs restaurant deliveries.”
“You woke up Sarah for this? It’s two in the morning.”
“Sarah’s not just some employee working at your restaurant. She’s your best friend and trust me, she didn’t mind. I needed to talk to her about what happened tonight.” His tone gentled. “She’s worried about you.”
“Ryan!” Cassie cried.
He stepped closer, ignoring her outrage, and tenderly took her hands in his. “Look, if you’re mixed up in something, if you’ve done something...”
“Done something?” Cassie shoved off his hands. “Done something? You think I’m a criminal?”
“Then file a complaint about what happened tonight,” he challenged.
This was a nightmare. Cassie turned her back on him, staring at the painted wood paneling, unseeing. He didn’t understand what he was asking of her. He didn’t understand that putting her name on that report symbolized her never speaking to or seeing anyone from this town ever again. Cassie closed her eyes, pressing back the tears. But at this point, what did it matter? The Wolf had found her. She was leaving Bakerton tonight and never coming back.
He stood over her shoulder, his tone pleading. “If some man is pulling fuses from women’s cars, stalking them in the trees, you need to file a report.”
“Ryan...”
“I know you, Cassie. The only reason that you are refusing me is because you know that no one else is at risk.”
Cassie faced him.
“And you know no one is at risk,” he continued, “because you know who was out there, and you know that you’re who they want. That is the only reason the Cassie I know wouldn’t file a report.”
“Fine,” she said, staring into his disbelieving eyes, “I’ll file a report.”
“What?”
“If you’ll let me get some sleep, I’ll come to your office in the morning and give a statement. File an official report.”
Ryan looked at her skeptically. “You’d do that?”
“Like you said, if someone else is at risk, then I have to. Right?” Her eyes burned from holding back the tears. As soon as he was out of sight, she’d take off for the extraction point that Gerald had set up for occasions like this. It tore at her heart that these heated words would be the last they ever exchanged. This was not how she wanted their relationship to end. Taking a deep breath, Cassie allowed the weariness she felt to show. “Look, I’m sore and tired. This has been a really long night.”
“You’ll come in tomorrow morning?”
“Yes,” she said. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I would really like to get some sleep.” Cassie walked over to the front door and pulled it open. “Good night, Ryan.”
The radio from Ryan’s police vest squelched to life. “Ryan, we got a report of a 12-45.”
“Copy that, on my way,” Ryan said, answering Logan.
Duke raised his head from where he’d flopped on the rug and stared at them.
There was nothing more Ryan could say. She could tell he didn’t trust her, but other than arresting her, what more could he do? Her request was reasonable, given the situation.
“In the morning then. Good night, Cassie,” Ryan said with a tip of his hat at the front door.
“Good night, Ryan.”
Cassie waited for Logan to pull out of the driveway before disappearing down the hall to get her bag. Her heated words with Ryan began replaying in her mind, and she pushed the thoughts back. If she wanted to live, she needed to concentrate on getting out of here.
It only took one step into her bedroom to realize something was wrong. Cassie inhaled sharply as the heat clicked on, making the drapes billow. The window was open, the screen torn out and a thin dusting of snow now glimmered in the moonlight on the hardwood floor. Cassie’s heartbeat hammered against her ribs, her eyes scanning the room. Nothing seemed displaced. Her black duffel bag sat in the middle of her white bedspread, the closet door was still askew from her earlier rush and the books on her nightstand lay undisturbed. All she had to do was dash in, grab the bag and go. It was a simple task.
Simple and yet Cassie’s feet remained rooted to the floor. Her eyes clung to the black duffel with over fifty thousand dollars in it. The edges of the lace bed skirt swayed gently with the winter breeze.
“Duke!” Cassie yelled, retreating to the front door, “Duke, come!”
It was hard to let the money go, but she had a second bag stashed at the restaurant. Gerald had always been adamant that she have a plan B, and now she was thankful for it.
Duke barked and followed her out the door, leaping into the Jeep after her.
“Just one quick stop at the restaurant, and then I’ll drop you off at home,” Cassie said, giving him a quick scratch and then gunning the engine.
* * *
Ryan put his hands on either side of his kitchen sink and stared out the window. The night felt alive, its shadows doing nothing to calm his nerves. Something was out there. He could sense it in the marrow of his bones. Whatever it was, the five-foot chain-link fence surrounding his yard wasn’t going to guard against it.
“Everything downstairs looks fine to me,” Logan said, entering the kitchen behind him.
“You could have said the 12-45 was an alarm at my house,” Ryan bit out, not taking his gaze from the window. “Instead of parking one block up and explaining the situation while we snuck up on my place.”
“If you would have let me get a word in, instead of blathering on about Cassie and your latest conspiracy theory about her, maybe I would have. Besides, it wouldn’t have changed the plan,” Logan said, unperturbed as Ryan glared at him. Stretching his tall frame, Logan stifled a yawn and found his place at the wooden breakfast table in the small kitchen lit only by the light over the stove. “Nothing’s been disturbed or taken from your place. This whole call was probably just some kids playing a prank.”
The word prank rankled Ryan, doing nothing to improve his mood. “My gut disagrees with you.”
“You forget who you’re talking to?” Logan asked, raising his dark bushy eyebrows. “That gut of yours has led us astray more than once over the years, and I’ve got the scars to prove it. Now, as your boss, I’ve got to say there’s nothing wrong here, and we’d best get back to work. As your best friend, what is up with you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryan said, sparing a glance over his shoulder.
“You gonna make me say it? I’ll say it,” Logan said, resting his forearms casually on the table.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t go there.”
“Someone has to. Cassie was the best thing that ever happened to you, and not only did you mess it up, but it’s like you go out of your way to continue making things worse.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation.”
“Tough. Someone needs to set you straight.”
“And you think three thirty in the morning is the time to do it?”
“If the moment’s right, it’s right. You and she were inseparable, the perfect fit. Which is something that I never believed existed until I saw the two of you together.” Logan took his hat from his head and flopped it on the table. “You even brought her fly-fishing with us, and in fifteen years, we’ve never brought anyone—not even my brother—fishing with us. I don’t understand how you can walk away from someone like that.”
“Because she’s lying,” Ryan spat out. Of all people, he shouldn’t have to explain this to Logan. His best friend should have his back.
“We searched every database we have access to and called in favors to search the ones we don’t,” Logan said, tapping the table with his forefinger to emphasize his next words. “Cassie has never committed a crime.”
“Or she just hasn’t been caught.”
“Think about who you’re talking about. Cassie teaches Sunday school, started up the benevolent meals program at our church and while her singing voice may be more akin to a crow than a canary, I don’t think that’s reason enough to lock her up. Exactly what do you think she’s guilty of?”
“I don’t know,” Ryan admitted. “But I can’t be with someone who’s holding out on me.”
Logan sighed. “For argument’s sake, let’s say she did do something. You don’t know what or why she did it. Maybe it’s not that bad.”
Ryan raised one eyebrow. “Or maybe it’s worse.”
“I think you’re way off base on this one. There’s no way the Cassie I know is mixed up in anything illegal.”
With everything that had gone on tonight, it was hard for Ryan to bite his tongue. But there was no point in arguing. He and Logan were never going to see eye to eye on this.
“You’re going to leave Bakerton because of her, aren’t you?”
Dumbfounded, Ryan shook his head. “Why would you say that?”
“Your old boss at the FBI called me again yesterday. He said the two of you have been talking.”
Ryan winced.
“Walter wants you back on his team. You’re a good agent with an impressive arrest record, so I can see why. And with the way things are between you and Cassie,” Logan looked at Ryan supportively, “a change in scenery might be nice.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Maybe it is. No one is arguing that you had some tough cases before you left the FBI. It even made sense that you came here to get away for a bit, but it has been four years. Buddy, everyone is wondering, are you going back to work for them?”
“I haven’t decided.”
A loud bark came from the backyard, grabbing Ryan’s attention and drawing Logan to his back.
“I thought Duke...”
“He is,” Ryan said, cocking his gun and ripping open the sliding glass door. He stepped onto the back deck but deliberately left the porch light off. He could just make out a figure kneeling near Duke’s doghouse. “Who’s there?” he called out, his pulse rising when the person rose to their feet. Cassie. He knew it before she even spoke a word. He’d know her anywhere.
“It’s me,” Cassie confirmed, holding up her arms in surrender. “No need to bring out the artillery.”
“I could have shot you,” Ryan said, holstering his gun and moving to the edge of the porch.
“I didn’t think you were home,” she said.
“Cassie?” Logan said, emerging from the house. “What’re you doing here?”
“I’ll tell you what she’s doing.” Ryan’s fingers strangled the metal railing, the snow turning to liquid under his bare palm. “She’s running. Aren’t you?”
“Of course that’s what you’d think,” Cassie spit out. “I’m not sticking around for this.” She turned and walked across the yard, heading for the gate on the side of the house.
He knew it wasn’t rational, but something in his gut told him that once she went through that gate, he would never see her again. Sick with emotions he couldn’t name, Ryan took the porch stairs two at a time. “Only guilty people run,” he yelled, stopping not far behind her.
Cassie paused.
Hope soared in his hollow chest, and Ryan didn’t even think to squelch it. Instead, he braved a cautious step forward. “Please, stay,” he said.
The night stretched silently between them.
“It’s not that simple,” she finally answered, her voice tight, “it’s just not.” And with that, she hurried toward the gate.
Her words ignited a storm within him. Vivid memories from his past boiled up. He could almost see his dad’s scrawny frame opening the apartment door, both of them knowing the police were on the way. It’s never that simple, son, was all that man had said before leaving. His own father hadn’t cared what happened to him and, for that matter, never would.
Ryan’s fingers bit into Cassie’s puffer jacket and spun her around.
“Just tell me what you’ve done,” he growled into her shocked face.
“What are you talking about?”
“I can’t picture you as a drug dealer or a murderer, I’ve tried, but I can’t. So what are you? A con artist? Is that who’s chasing you? Some poor victim wanting revenge?”
Cassie pushed hard at his chest, hurt flaring in her eyes. He let her go, and at the sudden release, she stumbled backward. “You’re going to wake your neighbor if you keep up with all this yelling.”
“I’ll figure it out,” he snapped as Logan rushed down the squeaky porch steps. “Trust me. You’re in a database somewhere.”
“How can you...how can you think...”
Duke snarled, and Ryan turned just in time to see movement from the woods. Instinctually, he pulled Cassie behind him when the back steps exploded, and Logan was catapulted forward toward a low retaining wall at the back of the yard. A guttural cry escaped from Logan’s lips as a short piece of metal railing lodged in his leg.
The fence rattled hard as Duke hurled himself at the panel, his lead holding him back.
“Verbergen!” Ryan yelled, using the German command for his dog to hide. Instantly, his FBI training took over, moving Ryan’s emotions into a box for later. He pushed Cassie and himself behind the garden shed and smoothly drew his gun. Peering around the corner, he leaned out when an answering hail of bullets pinged off the metal above their heads.
He drew Cassie down into a low crouch beside him, shielding her with his body until the bullets stopped. “Keep low,” he said, switching off his police radio.
