The Only Witness. Laura ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
wave of relief caught her off guard. Since when did she trust a man? Never in the years since her divorce.
Logically, she knew this was different. Miles wasn’t interested in her on a personal level. He was just being kind. And protective.
She told herself she was glad there was only a professional courtesy between them. Sure, he was handsome with his dark brown hair, chiseled features and big, muscular physique. And yes, maybe he smelled good, too. But after spending the last three years piecing her life back together, taking on an accounting job at a firm that allowed her to work at home so she could remain independent yet support her daughter, she finally felt as if she had her life back on track.
No way was she willing to risk changing anything now.
* * *
“Number twelve is our room.” Miles wasn’t happy that there hadn’t been connecting rooms available, but at least this one had two double beds.
Paige pursed her lips, but didn’t argue. “Okay.”
He parked the car in front of their Ravenswood Motel room and shut off the engine. “Do you need help with Abby?”
“No, I have her.” He came around to open her passenger-side door, grimacing at the bullet hole he found in the back fender. Any closer and the gunman might have taken out a tire, making escape impossible.
She took his outstretched hand, and a jolt of awareness tingled up his arm. He scowled, not liking his inadvertent response to her. Paige was the type of woman who had serious relationship written all over her.
Besides, he was responsible for her safety.
“Thanks,” she whispered, releasing his hand once she was out of the car and steady on her feet. Abby was still draped over her mother, but her limbs were lax as she slept.
He was glad the child was able to get some rest, and hoped she’d feel better in the morning.
After unlocking the door, he held it open so Paige could go through first. He turned on one lamp, casting a warm glow over the interior of the room.
Choosing the bed closest to the bathroom, Paige bent down and awkwardly pulled the polyester bedspread and blanket out of the way with one hand, so she could set Abby down on the mattress. The child squirmed a bit, before relaxing against the pillows.
Paige stared down at her daughter for a long moment before turning toward him. “I’ll share this bed with Abby, I want to be close by in case she has nightmares.”
“Understood.” Exhaustion weighed him down, but he shoved it away, trying to focus on what still needed to be done. After setting one of the room key cards on the table between the double beds, he tucked the other one into his pocket. “I’m going outside for a couple minutes to make a quick call. You’ll be okay?”
Paige nodded, then slipped out of his jacket. “Here you can have this back.”
He wanted to tell her to keep it, but since he had no idea how long he’d be outside, he decided he might need it to stay warm. However, it wasn’t easy to ignore her lemony scent clinging to the fabric as he drew on the jacket.
When he turned toward the door, she called out to him. “Miles?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I accidentally left Abby’s stuffed elephant in the backseat. Will you bring it in with you?”
He hadn’t even noticed the child clutching a toy, but for some reason, the idea that she had something from her home to comfort her made him smile. “Sure, no problem.”
“Thanks.” The expression on her lovely face was strained, as if she was hanging on by a thread. Understandable, since it wasn’t every day that a woman was forced to flee from a gunman with her young daughter in tow.
The air outside seemed colder after the warm interior of the motel room. Hunching his shoulders against the brisk wind, he opened the back door and found the pink elephant. He took it around to the front seat so he wouldn’t forget to take it back inside with him.
Miles dialed his brother Mitch, who thankfully answered on the second ring. “Miles? What’s up?”
“Someone trashed my place.” Remembering the mess ticked him off all over again. “Do you have time to head over there, make sure things are locked up once they’re finished processing the evidence?”
Mitch whistled beneath his breath. “Is the break-in related to something you’re currently working on?”
“Maybe.” Either his current case, or a cold one. Miles didn’t want to mention the fact that he’d also been working on his father’s murder investigation in his spare time. Nine months ago, Max Callahan had been the Milwaukee chief of police. He’d gone out to the scene of an officer-involved shooting as a sign of support for his colleagues, when someone had gunned him down. The entire Callahan clan still mourned his passing, and Miles wanted nothing more than to find the perpetrator who’d killed their father.
He’d discovered that the bullet responsible for his father’s death had been retained in the evidence room, but now it was missing, which made him suspicious about what was going on related to his dad’s case.
But right now, he had more urgent issues to worry about. “I’d join you, but I need to keep watch over a victim and her daughter.”
“Yeah, okay. Anything else?”
Miles was grateful that he had his family to fall back on. He was the second oldest, behind Marc. Mitch was born two years after him. Michael was fourth in line and the twins, Matthew and Madison, Maddy for short, were the youngest.
“Nothing right now, but I’ll be in touch.”
“Keep your head down, bro, you hear?”
Miles placed a second call to the dispatch center, asking for the officers who’d been sent to the Olson residence. He was given the name and number of Bernie Nowak. Nowak picked up after several rings and sounded grumpy about it.
“What? I’m busy.”
“Hey, Bernie, this is Miles Callahan. What did you find so far?”
“Where are you?” Bernie demanded. He’d been on the force for twenty-four years and was literally counting the days till he could retire. “You weren’t supposed to leave the scene.”
“The shooter kept coming, even managed to nick my car with a bullet, so I decided saving lives was more important than waiting for you guys.”
Bernie grunted. “Yeah, well, we found two slugs, both from a twenty-two-caliber rifle. Not the weapon of choice for your average punk crook.”
Maybe not, but it was the same caliber bullet found at the scene of Jason’s murder. “Anything else?”
“Got several broken windows and a busted-up tablet in the kid’s room, but that’s about it. We won’t know if anything is missing until the owner comes in and does a walk-through.”
“I’ll pass that along, thanks.” Miles disconnected and stared thoughtfully out the window.
Robbery was not the motive here. The reason the shooter used a twenty-two rifle was so they could stay several yards back, shooting at Paige from a distance. Easier to kill people that way, than getting up close and personal with a handgun.
More accurate, too.
The twenty-two caliber bullet was one link between the two crimes, not counting the break-in at his place. But he still had more questions than answers. What did it all mean? Miles was glad he had his laptop with him, or the guys who’d tossed his house would have taken it. At least he could still work Jason’s case.
With a flick of his wrist, he started the car and drove away from their room, choosing to park around the corner of the building. With the stuffed elephant under his arm, he slid out from behind the wheel, then