Christy Barritt - Key Witness

“Three thousand dollars is what the bank manager calculated,” the detective said. “You can’t put a price on a life. The K-9s are trying to follow the robbers’ scent now. We’re also checking all of the surveillance video from around the area. We’re going to get the sketches and description of the men out to the media in time for the evening news, we hope. Between all of those things, I’m hopeful that we’ll get these guys.”

Denton shifted in his seat. “I’m not so sure you’re going to catch them.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Something about the entire setup is bugging me. I mean, Julie cooperated with them. She gave them all the money she could, but they still shot her. That doesn’t make sense to me. Why would they shoot her? The dominant robber didn’t even hesitate.”

“What are you getting at?” the detective asked.

“It was almost like they went into the bank with the intention of killing someone.” Denton shook his head. “It sounds terrible, but that’s what my gut is telling me.”

An officer stepped into the room, his gaze focused on Elle. “Ms. Philips, your father is here to see you. I told him you were almost done, but he insisted on seeing you right away.”

Before Elle could even stand, her father rushed into the room. Two of his men shadowed him, remaining right outside the door. “Elle, sweetheart, are you okay? I was so worried when I heard what happened.”

She nodded and fell into his arms. “I’m fine, Dad. Just a few cuts and bruises.” She stepped back. “Dad, this is Denton—”

“Mark Denton,” her father interrupted, a grin stretched across his face. He extended his hand and pumped it up and down. “Good to see you again.”

“Senator Philips.”

Elle looked back and forth between them. “You know each other?”

Her father placed his hand on Denton’s shoulder. “Denton has worked security detail for me in the past.”

Elle’s gaze fixated on Denton. She realized there was so much she didn’t know about the man. “Security detail?”

A hint of a smile curled Denton’s lips. “I’m a private security contractor.”

Elle nodded as the truth seemed to settle over her. “No wonder you handled yourself so well during the robbery.”

Her father turned to her and nodded slowly—what Elle called his “thoughtful politician nod.” The senator added, “He’s the best, of course, because I only hire the best.”

Denton rubbed his five o’clock shadow before resting his hands on his hips. “Your daughter called 9–1–1 when one of the robbers dropped his phone. The operator heard what was going on in the background and put a trace on the phone. The police were just two blocks away when dispatch called them. I think we’re lucky that only one life was lost today.”

“That’s my girl. She thinks quickly on her feet, just like I raised her. She didn’t graduate at the top of her class from Yale because of luck.” Her dad’s eyes shone with pride.

Elle had to tell her father the rest of the story. “But Dad—”

“I know. The robber threatened you. He seemed to put it together that you were the one who found his phone. The detective filled me in when he called me.”

The detective called him? Of course he had. Her father had connections all throughout the state—the country, for that matter. An incident involving a senator’s daughter wouldn’t be taken lightly. “I was the only one close by in the area where he’d been standing. He must have put it together.”

“I’m used to getting threats. I don’t like it when my little girl gets them, though.” Elle could see the concern in her father’s eyes. But just hearing him call her “little” in public tore at the image she’d tried to build of herself as a self-sufficient career woman.

“I’m not little anymore, Daddy.”

Her father grinned. “You’ll always be little to me, no matter how old you are.”

Denton shoved his hands down into his pockets. “The good news is that these robbers can’t be the brightest bulbs in the socket. One of them did leave his cell phone at the scene of the crime. That alone should merit an article in the ‘Stupid Criminal’ section of the news.”

Elle sucked in a deep breath at the mention of an article. How could she have forgotten?

“What is it?” Denton leaned toward her.

She licked her lips, her gaze meeting her father’s. “There’s an article about me running in tomorrow’s paper. It’s a feature piece about my life and my work with my dad.” She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “If the robbers didn’t know who I was today, they’re going to find out soon.”

* * *

Denton had seen Elle’s face go from pale to even paler throughout the course of the day. But as she remembered the article, her face went stark white. The article would apparently put everything out there about her and, if the robbers saw it, they’d have all they needed to track her down.

“You can stay with us tonight.” His father hooked his arm around her neck. “I’m sure they’ll catch these guys soon. You just lay low until then.”

“Can you call the paper and see if they can pull it?” Denton asked.

“I can try, but it’s late. The paper has probably already gone to press.”

“How big of an article is it?”

Elle shrugged. “I’m not sure. Hopefully it will be buried on the last page, right? After all, I’m not that interesting. What could they possible say about me?”

Denton was sure a reporter could find a lot to say about the daughter of a prominent senator who was up for reelection. Elle didn’t seem like the naive type, though. Certainly she realized that, also.

She extended her hand. “Denton, I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances...”

He grasped her hand, surprised at her skin’s softness. “I understand.”

Her father ushered her away. As soon as she was gone, Denton missed her. The woman had intelligent eyes, a courageous spirit and drop-dead gorgeous looks—petite and trim with an olive complexion, long, dark hair with just a touch of curl, and warm brown eyes. It wasn’t that he was looking for a relationship. No, he wasn’t ready for another one of those yet. But the woman was a nice distraction from the rather grueling hours he’d spent staring evil in the face.

Right now, as she left, Denton had the urge to go with her, to be that extra set of eyes in case the robbers—killers, now—somehow tracked her down. But he didn’t know the woman well enough to simply tag along. Besides, her dad was a senator. He could afford protection if she needed it.

An officer was waiting to take him back to his SUV, still parked in the lot at the bank. He needed to drive back to the Iron, Inc. headquarters. The organization, also known as Eyes, was an elite paramilitary security firm. They only hired the best—former special operations officers, FBI and CIA agents and other heroes of law enforcement. Denton was holding down the fort, so to speak, while his boss, Jack Sergeant, was on his honeymoon.

Every time he thought of Jack’s marriage, his heart panged with both joy for his friend and sadness for himself. How long had it been now since Wendi passed away? Two years? Sometimes it felt like decades, and other moments it seemed like just yesterday.

They’d been married only for three years when she was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She died two years later. They’d enjoyed every moment they had, holding on to the hope that they’d grow old and gray together. That dream didn’t happen, though.

No one had caught his eye since Wendi. So why couldn’t he get Elle out of his mind? What was it about the woman that intrigued him so much? The last thing he wanted was a relationship. He still hadn’t gotten over the heartbreak of losing Wendi, and sometimes he doubted he ever would.