Page 2 of Lawman’s Witness

As their gazes met, she felt stunned.

She recognized him.

For an instant, her feet refused to move. Her fingers opened, dropping her suitcase. She turned, running back the way she’d come only to crash into the front of her SUV as it appeared out of the darkness. Limping, she worked her way around to the driver’s side in terror that she would hear his footfalls on the path behind her.

Hands shaking, she unlocked the driver’s-side door, yanking it open and throwing herself into the seat behind the wheel. As she grabbed the door handle and slammed it shut, she frantically reached to start the engine, the doors locking as the engine roared.

She realized her phone was still in the bottom of her purse, but she didn’t dare take the time to find it. Slamming the SUV into gear, she glanced out into the darkness, terrified that she would see the man running toward her with the knife in his hand.

As she hit the gas, the vehicle jumped forward, startling her to realize that she’d accidently put the car into Drive in her panic. She managed to slam on the brakes before the SUV crashed into the pile of dirt illuminated in her headlights.

Fingers trembling, she threw the vehicle into Reverse and sped backward, flying past the side of the building and coming to a stop at an odd angle in the middle of the cul-de-sac. When she looked up, she saw him.

He was standing on the second story balcony of the house where he’d murdered the woman. She stared at him for a moment, confused. He hadn’t come after her? Why was he just standing there so calmly watching her? Didn’t he realize she was going to the police to tell them what she’d seen?

She shuddered, chilled at the sight of him as she slammed the car into Drive and hit the gas. As she sped off, she looked back and saw that the balcony was empty.

He was coming after her now.

Her whole body shook even as her mind tried to make sense of what she’d seen. Gripping the wheel and fighting the urge to drive too fast, she kept watching her rearview mirror expecting to see the man’s headlights suddenly appear behind her as she drove toward the lights of the city. She didn’t pull over until she reached a well-lit busy gas station. Digging her phone out of her purse, she called 911.

“I just saw a murder!”

CHAPTER TWO

Amy Sue couldn’t remember the last time she’d ugly-cried. But just the sight of her sister coming through the door of the police station made her burst into tears.

Josie rushed to her and quickly wrapped her in her arms, patting her back with one hand and pulling a tissue from her purse with the other. Her sister, the lawyer, was always prepared for tears, though not normally from Amy Sue.

Josie was always prepared for most things because she was like their grandmother. She had some version of second sight that meant she sensed things before they happened. But after a recent fall and head injury she’d said the “knowing” was gone. Which might be true since Josie certainly hadn’t seen this coming any more than Amy Sue had.

“Glad you’re here,” the nicer of the two detectives, Russell Tate, said to Josie once the four of them were seated in the interrogation room, a cup of bad coffee in front of each of them. Amy Sue had noticed how differently he dressed from the other detective. Detective Tate wore a Western shirt, jeans and freshly polished boots. She’d seen the Stetson hanging by his desk when she’d come in half out of her mind trying to get someone to help her.

She’d liked Detective Tate better than the other detective right away. An attractive man with a full head of curly brown hair and warm brown eyes, he was closer to her own age. When he looked at her it was with kindness rather than suspicion. She didn’t have her sister’s second sight, but studying him and his sun-browned hands, she knew he would be good with horses.

That her mind had gone that route made her even more sure that she’d lost her mind tonight.

“She claims she witnessed a murder,” the other detective, Curtis Hanson, said to her lawyer sister, leaning heavily on the word claims. Short and stocky with what appeared to be a permanent frown, Curtis Hanson was older than his partner by at least ten years. He was dressed in a suit, the tie loose, the jacket wrinkled and smelling like the spearmint breath mint he’d popped in his mouth. He made Amy Sue nervous as she watched him weave his pen through his fingers restlessly as he studied her from across the table.

With her adrenaline waning, Amy Sue felt wrung out. She’d been here all night, she’d told her story repeatedly and, to her exasperation, hadn’t been believed.

“I know what I saw,” she said for the hundredth time. “He killed her right in front of me.” From the moment she’d walked into the station, the police had been skeptical after she’d told them that she’d recognized the killer. “I saw Jack Marshall stab the woman, then grab the plastic sheeting hanging from the doorway to wrap it around her body as he lowered her to the floor. When he stood up, his shirt was soaked with blood. That’s when he looked out the window. I recognized him and stumbled back, bumping into the wall behind me. An outside light came on and he looked right at me.”

“Jack Marshall? The man from the car ads?” her sister asked, sounding as astonished as the cops had been.

“I know what I saw,” Amy Sue snapped.

From the chair next to her, Josie reached over to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t questioning what you saw. I was just surprised like the police are that it was him.”

“One of our most prominent citizens,” Hanson said. “He owns the largest car dealership in the state. He and his wife are very active, donating thousands of dollars a year to local charities. They’re also active in politics, host the governor when he’s in town.”

“Thank you, Detective,” Josie said. “We get the picture.”

“It was him,” Amy Sue cried. “I recognized him right away. I’ve seen his inane ads on TV enough over the years. It was Jack Marshall. He looked right at me.”

“You say he definitely saw you?” her sister asked, concern edging her voice.

“He saw me. He saw my car and since he owns a car dealership, he’d know the make and model even if he didn’t get my license plate number when he watched me leaving.”