The Only Witness. Laura Scott
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coiled low in his belly. What if he was too late? He made his way down the hall toward the bedroom, bracing himself for the worst.
Frilly pink curtains ruffled in the breeze coming in through a broken window. A tablet was lying upside down on the floor surrounded by bits of glass, but thankfully no blood and no injured people.
He took a moment to check under the bed and look in the closet before turning back the way he’d come. The hallway stretched toward the front of the house, and he could see there were two additional doors; the one farthest away was open, could be another bedroom, while the door in the middle was closed.
The bathroom?
He tested the door handle and found it locked. “Mrs. Olson, I’m a Milwaukee police detective and I have backup officers on the way. Are either of you hurt? There will be an ambulance, too, if needed.”
“We’re not hurt.” The woman’s voice sounded muffled and he couldn’t deny the feeling of relief.
“I’m glad. Why don’t you let me in? I’ll keep you safe from harm.”
“How do you know who I am?” Suspicion laced her tone and Miles had to give the woman credit. She might be scared to death, but she was thinking things through in a logical manner.
She had no reason to trust him.
“I came here to ask for help in locating your ex-husband.” Miles wanted to reassure her that he wasn’t there to hurt her.
“Why do you want to find Travis?”
“I’m working on a case and need to ask him a few questions, that’s all.”
Another gunshot boomed loudly and he dropped to his knees, a surge of adrenaline sending his heart thumping as he searched frantically for the source of the gunshot.
A scream echoed from inside the bathroom. Without hesitation, he slammed into the flimsy door with his shoulder, bursting inside. The bathroom window had a bullet hole and the shower curtain was closed over the tub.
He pushed the curtain aside, and found a slim woman he guessed to be in her late twenties, with glossy brown hair and green-gold eyes behind oval eyeglasses. She was clutching a small girl who looked just like her, sans glasses. “Why are they shooting at us?” Paige Olson asked hoarsely.
“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here.” Miles took her arm and helped her out of the tub, urging her out of the small bathroom to the kitchen and living room area.
“I don’t understand.” Her voice bordered on panic, not that he could blame her. “What’s going on?”
He had no idea what was happening, other than the strong possibility that the shooter outside might be related to Jason’s death.
“This way,” he said in a low voice, gesturing to the far side of the living room. There was a side window facing in the opposite direction from where he estimated the shooter was located. And it wasn’t far from where he’d left his car. They needed to get away from here as soon as possible.
He raised the window sash and pulled the screen out of the way.
“Maybe we should go into the basement,” Paige whispered.
“It’s better if we’re not trapped.” He wasn’t about to wait around a moment longer than necessary. When he had the window clear, he shrugged off his black leather jacket and held it out to her. “Put this on.”
She didn’t let go of her daughter, but managed to get her arms into the sleeves. When she was ready, he went outside first, then held out his hands. “It might be easier for me to hold your daughter.”
The child, who hadn’t spoken a word, shrank closer to her mother, clinging like a little monkey. He stepped back and held out a hand. “Never mind. Here, lean on me.”
Paige threw one leg over the sill, then ducked beneath the frame. She teetered there for a moment, so he quickly caught her in his arms and hauled her the rest of the way out of the window.
“See my car there along the curb?” He gestured to his navy blue sedan.
“Yes.”
“We’re getting out of here before anything else happens.”
She gave a terse nod, trusting him to keep them safe. He shielded them as best he could as they moved quickly across the snow-patched frozen ground to his car.
He didn’t have a booster seat for the child, but that wasn’t his top priority. Paige slid into the backseat with her daughter, leaving him to get behind the wheel. He quickly started the engine and put the car in gear.
Crack! Another gunshot echoed through the night, hitting the passenger side of his vehicle with a loud thud.
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”
“We’re okay,” Paige said in a muffled tone.
The faint sound of police sirens reached his ears, but Miles didn’t hesitate. He stomped hard on the accelerator and pulled away from the curb, speeding down the street as fast as possible, putting badly needed distance between his car and the gunman.
Leaving the scene of a crime was against the rules, but at the moment he was more concerned with making sure that Paige Olson and her daughter were safe.
They were clearly in danger, but why? Who would shoot at a woman and a child? Deep in his gut, he sensed there had to be a link between the shooter who’d just hit Paige’s house and his buddy’s murder.
He needed to figure it out, before any more blood was shed.
* * *
Thirty minutes after they’d left her normally quiet and safe neighborhood behind, Paige still couldn’t relax. The sound of gunfire continued to echo in her mind, over and over again until she thought she might scream.
She knew she should be glad that the police detective had risked his life to save them, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d only come to see her in the first place because of Travis.
For a moment she squeezed her eyes shut in frustrated anger. Her ex-husband had cheated on her practically from the moment they’d gotten married, although she hadn’t found out about the other women he went out with until Abby was born and one of the women showed up at the hospital looking for Travis.
He’d apologized to Paige and promised to be faithful, but of course that hadn’t lasted more than a couple of months. She finally divorced him when Abby was two and she’d made it a point to do her best to get along with him, for their daughter’s sake.
But now it looked as if Travis was in trouble again. He’d called her a few weeks ago, asking if she’d keep Abby over the weekend he was supposed to take her. Of course she’d agreed, but she’d also sensed tension in his tone.
She’d asked what was wrong and he blamed his stress on work. As he was the director of research and development for Sci-Tech, she hadn’t thought too much about it.
But now she couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it than that.
Paige took several deep breaths, burying her face in the collar of the detective’s black leather jacket. The scent of leather, combined with his aftershave, was surprisingly calming. She turned her attention to her daughter. Abby was plastered against her, hanging on as if she’d never let go. She was glad to realize that Abby had managed to keep a firm grip on Ellie. Having her favorite toy with her should assist in keeping her calm.
“Hey, Abby, you can sit up if you like. We’re safe now. The nice policeman, Detective...” She frowned, forgetting the guy’s name.
“Miles,” he supplied in a low, masculine tone.
“Detective Miles helped us get away.”
Abby moved her head a bit, as if seeking a more comfortable angle, but didn’t say anything in response.
“Mrs.