Safe Harbor. Hope White
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Banks marched out of the room and Alex turned to Nicole. “I’ll just be a minute, okay?”
Yet he was hesitant to let go of her hand. What was it about this woman?
Simple. She was in danger and Alex was a natural-born protector. Maybe this time he’d get it right. Maybe this one wouldn’t die because of his incompetence.
“I’ll be right back.” He slipped his hand from hers and stood.
She hugged herself. “You think... Will he...come after me?”
Seeing fear in her eyes, he mustered up the only answer he thought might ease her anxiety. “I doubt he even knew you were there. You found a clever hiding spot.”
She nodded, but didn’t look convinced.
As he headed toward the hallway to speak to Agent Banks, Alex focused on controlling the frustration burning through his chest. Intimidating Nicole was no way to get answers, not to mention it was incredibly inappropriate behavior for a professional.
Alex went into the hallway. Agent Banks took a step toward him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m trying to make the witness feel safe so she’ll talk to us,” he answered in a calm voice.
“Well, she’s obviously bonded with you.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Was that your plan? To play hero?” the agent accused.
“This isn’t about being a hero. It’s about finding a killer.”
Banks slammed his fist against the wall and leaned close. “I heard about you and your wonder-boy reputation on the Denver force. I won’t allow ego to mess up this investigation.”
“I guarantee you, my ego won’t be a problem.”
Alex stood his ground, refusing to back down. He surely wasn’t going to let Agent Banks take Nicole in for questioning if he planned to continue these aggressive tactics on her.
With a frustrated expression, Banks turned and paced a few feet away.
“Are you going to tell me why the Feds are involved?” Alex asked.
“Edward Lange was a target of an ongoing investigation. I can’t share the details.”
“You suspect him of criminal activity?” Alex couldn’t believe it.
Agent Banks turned to Alex. “Like I said, it’s need-to-know information.”
“If it’ll help me solve the murder, then I need to know.”
“That’s not my call.”
“Nor is it my call to release the witness into your custody. You’ll have to take that up with my chief.”
“I don’t have time to cut through your local red tape, detective.”
“You don’t have a choice. The witness is traumatized and won’t talk about what happened until she feels safe.”
“And that’s your job? To make her feel safe?” he said.
Alex ignored the attitude. “It’s certainly my goal. But she won’t be safe unless we work together and catch the perp. I can guarantee you that isolating her in an interrogation room isn’t going to get you the answers you’re looking for.”
Banks ran his hand across his jawline. “You’re right. There’s just a lot riding on this case.”
“My suggestion is we keep her identity a secret,” Alex said. “Better yet, don’t release the fact there was a witness. Can you talk to the first responders in there?”
“Yes, but you know how things leak out.”
“It’s worth a try. In the meantime, I’ll take Miss Harris someplace safe. Here’s my cell number.” Alex handed him a business card. “I’d appreciate you keeping me in the loop on your end and I’ll do the same.”
Deep in thought, Banks glanced at Alex’s business card.
“How bad is it, whatever you think Lange was into?” Alex pushed.
“It’s a game changer.” He handed Alex his business card and went back to the crime scene.
Officer Mark Adams stepped into the hallway looking for Alex. “How’s the witness?”
“Understandably upset. I need you to keep an eye on things here,” Alex said. “I’m taking her into protective custody.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alex turned back to the TV room and took a deep breath. Somehow he had to convince Nicole Harris to shelve her trauma and tell them whatever she could about the murder. Time was critical, potentially for the community of Waverly Harbor but most definitely for Nicole. Alex knew it would be nearly impossible to keep her presence in town a secret, but he hoped they could keep it quiet that she’d been at the crime scene, sitting on the other side of the closet door while someone viciously murdered Edward Lange. If that got out, even by accident, it could mean Nicole’s life.
No, he wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d stay one step ahead of the killer and make sure an innocent woman didn’t become a victim.
He slid the pocket doors open.
“We decided I should take you—” he said to an empty room. “Miss Harris? Nicole?”
He rushed to the sofa hoping to find her stretched out in exhaustion.
She was gone. So was her messenger bag.
He spotted a closet and raced across the room to whip open the door. Switched on the light.
Empty.
How was that possible? He bolted to the sliding door and whipped it open. “Nicole!”
TWO
She had to run.
There was no other choice.
The killer was after her. He wanted her dead. The FBI agent had said as much. And the only way to survive was to either hide...
Or run.
Because given Nic’s experience, the police couldn’t or wouldn’t protect her. She was the only one who could save herself.
She’d hesitated before taking off, remembering the false sense of security she’d felt when leaning against the muscled arm of Detective Donovan. When he spoke in his rich, deep voice, she could almost believe the words coming out of his mouth, and she was sure she read truth in his striking blue eyes.
But then something had slammed against the wall, snapping her out of her momentary distraction, yanking her back to reality and the violence that surrounded her.
No one can help you but yourself. A lesson learned years ago as a child.
Jogging across the property toward the lake, she figured the next house was about four city blocks away. She’d make her way there and...and...what?
Didn’t matter, she couldn’t think about what came next. She had to stay focused on getting away from the murder scene, the cops...the threat to her life.
She had to feel safe.
A sob-gasp caught in her throat. Safe? Since when?
In the recesses of her mind, her intellect argued that this was a bad move. She couldn’t elude authorities for long and it could even make her look guilty, as if she’d done something wrong. Yet all she’d done was her job.
If she couldn’t be safe in this quiet little town that meant...
He was right.
You can’t run fast enough or hide well enough. You’ll never