Targeted Witness, page 4
“What are you doing?”
“There could be more explosives, and I can’t risk setting them off,” Ryan said, taking a deep breath. “No cell phones, no radio frequencies within one hundred yards. It’s protocol.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I wish that I were.” His hand squeezed hers. Until tonight, he’d loved living on the edge of the woods. “The Bannisters are good neighbors. They’ll call this in.”
“They’re your only neighbors down here,” she said, her face turning thoughtful. “And I think Sarah mentioned they were leaving for Seattle to visit their daughter for Christmas?”
“Let’s hope you heard wrong,” he said and dared another look around the corner of the shed.
The explosion had been a small one, with structural damage limited to the back steps and porch. While the house remained virtually unscathed, Logan had not been so fortunate. His best friend lay on the ground, groaning as he pulled himself toward the retaining wall, attempting to gain protective cover. Logan’s hand stretched forward, and a shot sliced through his palm.
Ryan fought the urge to run to his friend. An action that would surely get them both killed. Instead, he carefully analyzed the tree line. No movement.
“I can cover you,” Cassie said.
“What?” Ryan replied, half listening while he peeked around the corner of the shed. Where was this guy perched? His eyes scoured the dense tree line when an all too familiar clicking sound came from behind him. He glanced over, shocked to see Cassie on the far side of the shed with her back to it and a Glock 20 in her hands, ready to go. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I can shoot better than you and Logan at the range and I’ve watched the two of you practice training scenarios together.” She met his eyes with bold confidence. “I’ll cover you,” she repeated.
“I can’t let you do that. You’re not an officer, you don’t have the proper training and we don’t have a visual on the assailant. Put that away.”
“There is a lot about me that you don’t know,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “And I do have a line of sight. I got it when he shot Logan in the hand.”
Ryan didn’t have time for arguments. He peered around the edge of the shed, his mind grappling for a plan. How long would it take for backup to get out here? He glanced at his watch. If help had indeed been called, it would take them a while to assemble and mobilize. He listened for sirens but heard nothing.
Cassie moved next to him. “I can’t carry Logan to safety, but you can.”
“Are you out of your mind?” he said. There was no way he could allow her to discharge a weapon right now. It would violate every police directive known to man.
Logan let out a pain-filled groan that drew Ryan’s attention back to the scene. His friend lay motionless on the ground, a dark bloom of red staining the snow around him. Ryan’s heart plummeted into his stomach. He had to do something. Logan couldn’t take another hit.
“Come with me,” Cassie said, leading Ryan to the opposite corner of the shed. “There’s muzzle flash at one o’clock, approximately fifty yards from us. You don’t like this, I get it, but I’m all you’ve got right now. I know what I’m doing.”
Ryan found the spot Cassie had indicated but saw no betraying movement from the assailant. Before he could stop her, Cassie took the hat off his head and threw it out beside the shed. Bullets cracked into the night, and like she had promised, he spotted the muzzle flash from beside a tree.
“You could get all of us killed,” Ryan said, his stomach sinking.
“If we do nothing, we all get killed too.”
Ryan turned, his thoughts reeling. His ears strained to hear sirens, any indication that help was on the way, but again he heard nothing. He stalked back to the other side of the shed and stared at Logan. A bullet narrowly missed his friend’s head. As much as Ryan didn’t like her plan, Cassie was a crack shot and there were no other options. He met Cassie’s eyes. “Are you sure you can handle this?”
“I would never risk Logan or you if I wasn’t.”
He searched her face but already knew she was telling the truth. Ryan said a silent prayer, not liking anything about this situation. “Okay,” he relented, his stomach twisting. “You’ve practiced with Logan and me.” He studied her carefully, looking for any sign of hesitation. “Do you remember how this goes?”
Cassie nodded and took a few steps back from the shed, angling to get the best shot and maintain good cover. “On go,” she said, finding her firing stance and carefully aiming. “Ready,” Cassie called, her eyes locked on their target.
“Ready.”
“Go,” she said and began shooting at the assailant.
Ryan kept low across the snow and reached Logan’s side in seconds. “It’s me, buddy,” he said, rolling Logan from his side onto his back.
His friend let out a pain-filled grunt and met Ryan’s eye. “So I think you’re right.”
“What’s that?”
“Cassie’s definitely mixed up in something.”
Ryan choked on a laugh. “Glad we can finally agree on it,” he said, turning his attention back to the gunfight going on above their heads. Cassie had the gunman busy, but there wasn’t much time. He grabbed Logan’s shoulders and dragged his friend toward the shed, out of the line of fire. Once they reached safety, Ryan ripped open the Velcro pouch on Logan’s police vest that held his individual first aid kit. Pulling out the black strap tourniquet, he slid it under Logan’s leg. “Sorry about this,” he said and cinched the tourniquet tight as Logan emitted an ear-piercing screech.
Shots peppered the shed, and Ryan leaned over Logan protectively. “I need to bandage your hand. Are you hit anywhere else?”
“I don’t think so,” Logan said, his breathing tight from fighting back the pain.
Sirens blared in the distance, and Ryan thanked God under his breath. “Hang in there, okay?” he said, wrapping the hand wound.
He patted down Logan’s body looking for other injuries, when he realized the gunfire had stopped. His heart clenched. Cassie. He looked over his shoulder and saw her sitting huddled against the far side of the shed. She met his gaze and gave him the okay sign, and he found himself able to breathe again.
“What’s going on over there?” he called to Cassie.
“The guy ran when the sirens started. I lost sight of him in the woods. How’s Logan?”
“Been better,” Logan said through gritted teeth. “But I’ll live.”
“Cassie, can you come over here and give me a hand?” Instantly, Cassie slid over, holstering her gun. She looked so calm and cool that he couldn’t help but wonder who this woman was. He met her eyes over Logan’s body and shoved his thoughts aside. “We need to get Duke and us away from my house in case it blows. Can you help me get Logan across the street?”
“Definitely.”
“Hier,” Ryan yelled, calling Duke to his side. The dog appeared and eagerly tried to lick Ryan’s face when he removed Duke’s lead. This was one of the many reasons that Duke hadn’t been successful in the K-9 program.
Together the three of them and Duke made their way through the gate and hurried across the road. In perfect unison, Cassie and Ryan lowered Logan to the ground behind two large boulders that served as a trailhead marker. Logan’s face looked pale, but the sirens were getting closer. Help would be here any minute.
Ryan sensed more than saw Cassie look toward her Jeep. It sat parked on the side of the road, not far from them.
“Don’t do it,” Ryan said, checking Logan’s tourniquet to make sure it hadn’t loosened in the transfer.
“I have to,” she said and ran for her vehicle.
Ryan’s thoughts turned thunderous. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t leave Logan and chase her down.
Logan gripped his hand. “Go after her.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“Help is almost here.” Logan lifted his right hand and wobbled his gun. “I’ll be fine until they get here, but she’ll be long gone by then. Go!”
Ryan hesitated.
“I’m your boss, and I’m giving you an order. Whoever was out there could easily have killed me tonight but didn’t, and I want to know why. This isn’t just about you anymore. Go get her.”
Logan had a point, but Cassie had a head start.
“Such Cassie,” Ryan said, the single command sending Duke racing down the road. Duke reached her in seconds and playfully jumped all around her, blocking Cassie from getting any closer to the driver’s door. His dog might not be ferocious, but he was very effective.
“Call him off!”
“When the party gets here,” Ryan said, referring to the emergency vehicles that were getting closer. “You have some explaining to do.”
“I don’t have time for that.” Cassie turned and faced the dog. “Duke, sit.”
Duke complied, squirming with the hope of reward. “Good boy.” Cassie sidestepped the animal and got in the vehicle.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. If she thought she was getting away that easily, she had another thing coming. He sprinted for the Jeep and yanked open the passenger door, hopping in the seat before she could bolt.
“Take us to the station.”
Duke barked from behind the vehicle, and Cassie waited for Ryan to let the dog in.
“Not this time,” she said and floored the accelerator.
THREE
Ryan rubbed his brow and felt Logan’s blood smear across his forehead. Undeterred by anything, Cassie sped them across the town line, away from police and away from any help. His hands dropped onto his lap. His eyes transfixed to the bright red rivulets that were turning dark and hardening in the creases of his skin. He forced himself to look away. An innocent person did not run.
Cassie met his eyes when she switched gears, making his breath catch. When she looked at him like that, it made him want to believe things that contradicted the situation they were now in and why they were in it. He noticed the exhaustion tugging at the edges of her eyes, her tight grip on the steering wheel. She was starting to fall apart.
Deliberately, he bent his fingers and felt Logan’s dried blood buckling on his skin. His gut twisted. Cassie was not innocent, and it was best he did not forget that.
Knowing what he had to do, Ryan reached into his pocket, but his fingers faltered when they touched the hard plastic case of his cell phone. He needed to phone in their location. He should have done it the moment he got into Cassie’s Jeep, but something made him pause.
“I’m sorry about Logan. Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asked, daring another glance at him.
“He’ll survive. Not that you stuck around to find out.”
The hurt in her eyes gnawed at his gut, and he instantly regretted the words. Her head snapped back to the road, but she said nothing in response. She sat tall, her long auburn locks cascading over the line of her shoulders. He wanted to comfort her, to look down at her freckled nose and tell her it would all be okay.
A car driving by left their high beams on, making him wince and look down. His jacket was stained with Logan’s blood. What was he thinking? She was responsible for what had happened to Logan. She was just like his dad—all smiles and charm, but when the dust settled, it always turned out to be lies and illusions. The reality of it hurt, but at least the hurt was real.
He took a deep breath, pulled the phone from his pocket and began to dial in the number.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m letting them know where we are. This is Officer Matherson...”
Cassie glared. “Hang up.”
“Please patch me through to...”
Cassie grabbed for his phone as the Jeep caught an edge of black ice. The vehicle slid toward the rock face and then swung into a rear tailspin across the road. Duke howled. Ryan’s head cracked into the passenger window, his phone flying out of his hands. The Jeep swung erratically and then, abruptly, everything came to a standstill.
With a whimper, Duke leaped into Ryan’s lap. It was all fur and tail in his face as the dog performed an awkward pirouette. Finally, Duke settled his body uncomfortably across the two of them, his head and front paws hanging over Cassie’s armrest. She leaned down and soothingly stroked the dog’s head. Duke wormed closer to her while digging his back claws into Ryan’s thigh, making Ryan grit his teeth.
Quiet fell over the Jeep as crisp white snowflakes fell on the windshield. Two straight beams from their headlights cut a path through the predawn darkness, revealing the cliff and valley on the other side of the road. Things could be a whole lot worse right now.
“Officer Matherson, are you there? Is everything okay, Officer Matherson?” came the muffled voice from the cell phone.
Cassie’s hand rested lightly on his forearm. He looked into those vulnerable eyes, and his heart lurched. He lifted the phone from the floor and put it to his ear. “I’ll have to call you back.”
“Thank you,” Cassie whispered as he hung up.
Ryan’s cell immediately rang, and he switched it off. Was he making a mistake? He eyed her suspiciously. The one thing he had learned from his dad was how to sniff out a lie. The real question was, could he be objective where Cassie was concerned?
“I expect answers,” he said flatly.
“I know you do,” Cassie replied, coaxing Duke into the back seat. The dog groaned but was exhausted enough that he cooperated.
“Now,” Ryan snarled, his patience wearing thin.
“You have to understand. This conversation violates the rules.”
“You tell me now, or I call my boys in blue and tell them to come and get us.”
Cassie slipped the gearshift into first. “Fine,” she agreed, but instead of talking, she began praying.
Her words fell softly from her lips, provoking a strong desire for him to take her hand in his.
Appalled, Ryan shook his head. “Stop it. Stop it right now.” He didn’t have time for this. He needed answers. Ryan held up his phone. “I’m not joking. You either start talking or I start phoning.” His finger edged toward the power button on his cell. Every part of him wanted to press it, but a little voice in the back of his head kept telling him to be patient.
I’m done being patient, Ryan wanted to yell. She was manipulating him. Couldn’t God see that?
Cassie looked at him from the corner of her eye and then focused on the road.
She took a deep breath. “You remember when Congressman Johnson was murdered a few years ago at a fundraising art gala?”
“Yeah.”
“And there was also an artist, Cassandra Roberts, who witnessed the hit... She made sketches and paintings of everything she’d seen.”
Ryan rolled his eyes. “The first and only person to put a face to the assassin known as The Wolf,” Ryan said, unable to hide the irritation in his voice as he recited the tagline that followed Cassandra Roberts’s name on news cycles. “I think the whole world knows about her.”
The media coverage of the assassination had reached such a global fervor that even now, eight years later, Congressman Johnson, Cassandra Roberts and The Wolf were household names. The fact that the case had never been solved only added to its allure. While the investigation into the congressman’s death hadn’t been his case when he was at the Bureau, he was familiar with the facts and was well aware that several FBI teams were still investigating the case.
“Then you know that even with her sketches out there, law enforcement has never caught The Wolf and the person who hired him was never identified.”
“Yes,” Ryan said, his jaw beginning to clench. He didn’t like where this was going. Chances were she was about to tell him a whopper of a lie, but then again, he couldn’t ignore how she handled herself with a gun. Cassie’s marksmanship wasn’t a skill someone just picked up. That was something that took years of practice. He’d imagined her as a lot of things over the last few months, but never someone mixed up with an assassination. He shifted in his seat. Could she have helped the hit man that night? It was hard to believe. Then again, he’d run her name through the government databases, and that Glock wasn’t registered to her.
Was any part of that kind, loving person he’d known genuine? He closed his eyes, steeling his gut to the truth. The Cassie he thought he’d known wasn’t real. None of their time together was. That’s how criminals worked. They created an illusion that provided what you longed for to prevent you from seeing the con.
He tried to control his voice, but a bite still clung to his words. “So, you’re telling me you were somehow involved the night of the congressman’s death?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Her teeth nibbled her lower lip. “I’m the artist. I’m Cassandra Roberts.”
Ryan couldn’t hide his disbelief. “Cassie, you don’t look anything like her. I’m not stupid. Her face was in every news cycle around the world for months.”
“I know I don’t look like her,” she said, sparing him a pleading glance, “but I am being honest with you.”
Ryan picked up his phone.
“You need to hear me out.” Cassie took another deep breath. “Being accepted into the witness protection program isn’t easy. I went through three separate psychological assessments, but that still didn’t prepare me for what was to come. As you said, my face was plastered all over the news and everywhere I went, people kept recognizing me. So, the US Marshals moved me into heavy seclusion and kept me there for years. I’m not proud of it, but I ended up spiraling into a depression. We all knew I couldn’t keep going on like I was, but what other options were there? The congressman’s death had been an international media circus. That’s when the idea of plastic surgery came up.”
