Expert Witness. Rachel Dylan
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in the world did you learn to incapacitate an attacker like that?” He guessed her to be only about five feet four, but she was a powerhouse.
Her brown eyes were wide as she looked up at him. “Self-defense classes.”
“That looked like a whole lot more than self-defense class.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
He was intrigued. Sydney Berry had secrets. And if he was going to be able to keep her safe, he probably needed to find them out. But at the moment he was just glad that her first secret actually worked to their advantage.
He was kicking himself for taking his eyes off of her earlier. She was his first and only priority. Granted, she wasn’t officially in the Witness Security Program, known commonly as witness protection, but he had been tasked to keep her safe until everything could be sorted out.
Sirens sounded in the distance. He looked at her. “Why don’t you get in the car? I’ll handle this, and then we can be on our way.”
She frowned but then got into the sedan.
A moment later the local police arrived, and Max filled them in on the specifics. He’d also looped in his FBI contact. Then he made the call he was dreading. Reporting this incident to his boss, Deputy Elena Sanchez, was hardly the way to make a good first impression, but he had no choice.
Then finally he was ready to hit the road with Sydney. But not to the original safe house. That was too risky now.
He wouldn’t feel even an ounce better until Sydney had safely completed her testimony in the morning. And even then the threat of the East River gang still loomed large.
Once they’d been driving for a few minutes, he decided to break the silence. “Want to talk about what happened back there?”
“You think those men were connected to East River or someone else associated with Diaz?”
He decided it best to be open and honest with her about the threat. “I think East River has put a hit out on you.”
“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” she said.
He saw her look out the window and take note of her surroundings. “I know it seems like I’m driving in the other direction now, but given what just happened we’re going to an alternative safe house.”
“But we’re not staying there long?”
“No. After you testify we’ll go to another location. This is just for tonight. We have a list of safe house options already planned for you.”
“I guess I don’t get much of a say in this, huh?”
“You always have a say, but you should know that I have your best interests in mind. Also, I’m sorry about what happened back there, however, I’m thankful that you were able to defend yourself.”
“Me, too,” she said quietly.
He looked over at her. As she stared out the window he could see the tension tightening her features. He tried a different topic of conversation. “How long have you been a sketch artist?”
She turned to look at him, and her shoulders immediately seemed to relax. “I’ve been drawing forever, but I started taking it seriously during college. I didn’t finish school and instead took art classes with my tuition money. Then I started with small jobs and it grew from there. Referrals are very important in my business. But I do more than just draw faces. That’s what you think of when you think of a sketch artist. I’m a forensic artist. I can do a lot more, like crime-scene reenactments and stuff like that.”
“I imagine the work comes and goes.” He wanted to engage in conversation to try to calm his own building nerves, as well.
“Yes. I’ve been very busy as of late, but those first few years were tough. I took other odd jobs to make ends meet. I worked at a library for a bit and as a server at a restaurant. All to pursue my real dream.” She shrugged. “With all the high-tech advancements, the field is changing a lot, it’s really exciting. Computers can do a lot, but there’s still something to be said about a human hand.”
“I’m a big fan of using technology in investigations. I had an experience with a traditional sketch artist in the past who wasn’t on point.” That was an understatement, but he didn’t think it was the best time to go into his misgivings about sketch artists right now.
“Don’t get me wrong. The technology for doing things like facial reconstructions or accident simulations is absolutely amazing,” she replied. “But I still trust my abilities to use pencil and paper and sketch based on the eyewitness interview for the purposes of identification.”
He didn’t reply because it only would have led to an argument that he didn’t think she would want to have right now.
“You said you were at the FBI before. How long have you been a marshal?”
He didn’t really want to give an exact answer. “Not very long.” He could feel her gaze on him as he drove.
“Hey, don’t tell me I’m your first witness.”
He smiled. “Okay, I won’t tell you that.”
“Wow.” She blew out a breath. “I am your first witness.”
“That’s true, but I’d been with the FBI for a decade. It’s not like I’m new to law enforcement, so I’m not a true rookie.”
“I can imagine that working as an FBI agent in the gang unit is a lot different than guarding a witness, though.”
“Don’t give it another thought. You’re safe now, and you’ll stay that way.”
“No offense, but we just met. You’re asking me to put a lot of faith in you.”
“I know. But that’s the way it has to be. No one else on our team has the same knowledge of the threats to you like I do. I’m thankful that I got assigned to your case and was able to connect the dots, or this afternoon might have ended very differently.” He paused as he pointed to a house up ahead. “We’re here on the right.”
“This looks like a regular neighborhood.”
“That’s exactly the point. We’re trying to blend.”
He’d actually never been to this safe house before during his training, but he was getting the idea that they were all generally the same. This was a two-story house, painted a pale blue on a nice-size lot.
He pulled the sedan all the way into the driveway and stopped the car.
“Can I get out?” she asked.
“Yes, but first let me just do a quick security check. You stay here and keep the doors locked.”
Before she could answer he had jogged up to the front door and opened it. He quickly surveyed the house, conducting a security sweep. Satisfied it was all clear he went back outside to get Sydney. Her expression appeared unreadable as she sat in the passenger’s seat. He really wanted to know what was going in that head of hers.
He opened the car door for her, and she stepped out bedside him. She was a pretty woman, no doubt, with a simple and natural beauty about her. But she gave off a very strong vibe. One that said loudly, “Back off.”
“This way,” he said. He took her arm and escorted her to the front door, even though he got the feeling she didn’t appreciate him invading her personal space. “Another marshal will be over in a bit with dinner and everything you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow.”
“You aren’t leaving, are you?” she asked as she made direct eye contact.
“No. I just didn’t want you to think we were going to be totally shut off from the outside world without the things you would need.”
“What I really need is to be at