Christy Barritt - Key Witness

Denton followed at a close clip behind her. She stopped at an end table and picked up a picture frame holding a snapshot of her and the senator. With a shaky finger, she pointed at it. “This is my frame but that’s not my picture.” She scrambled to remove the backing.

Denton put his hand over hers. “Let me.” He didn’t know what might wait beneath that picture. It could be an airborne disease, for all he knew. Or it could be nothing.

Carefully, he slipped off the back of the frame. His heart raced as he waited to see what waited underneath. He blinked. Nothing. Except a picture of Elle hugging her father.

“Where’d my picture go? Why would someone take it?”

“What was the picture of?”

“My sister.”

“Your sister?”

Elle wiped the corner of her eye, obviously trying to conceal the fact that she was crying. “She’s been dead for six years.”

“I’m sorry, Elle.”

“It was my favorite picture.”

“Do you parents have another copy?”

She wiped her eyes again before wrapping her arms over her chest. “Probably. I’ll ask them.”

“Where did someone get this snapshot?”

She shrugged. “Anywhere. It’s on my dad’s official campaign website.”

“Of course,” he muttered. “You have a paper bag?”

“Under the microwave.”

He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a lunch-sized bag to slip the frame into. “I’m going to have this tested for fingerprints. I’m pretty sure they didn’t leave any, but I want to make sure.”

She pulled in a deep breath, her face pale and her voice on the edge of fragile. “This feels like... I don’t understand why someone would do this.”

He resisted the urge to touch her, to try and comfort her. It wasn’t his place. But he hated to see her struggling as she was. He stuffed his free hand into his pocket instead. “You witnessed a horrific crime. Sometimes people are just sick. They want someone to pay for what happened. They’re playing a game, basically.”

She swallowed and nodded. “Let me finish getting my stuff and let’s get out of here.”

He slid the frame inside the bag. His instincts were ramped. Someone had stepped up the game. Whatever it was they wanted, Denton had a feeling they were sick and twisted enough to not let anything stand in their way.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.