Shirlee McCoy - Lone Witness

“Of course we wouldn’t,” Rachelle said, her voice trembling. She stepped into the hospital room, urging Aria to follow. She was as shaken as Henry and trying not to show it. A long-time ER nurse, she usually had a calm approach to emergencies. Right now, she seemed on the edge of falling apart.

He started to follow, worried about her as much as he was about the girls.

Brett touched his shoulder. “She’s okay,” he said.

“She looks shaken.”

“She is, but she’d rather not know that we know it.” Brett ran a hand through his thick gray hair. “I feel terrible about this, Henry.”

“Nothing that happened is your fault. You and Rachelle have nothing to feel bad about.”

“I should have put new windows in. Better locks. A security system.”

“Provincetown is a safe community. You had no way of knowing something like this would happen.”

“Maybe not, but I still feel terrible. How is Everly?”

“The doctor said she would be fine.”

“And the other victim? I heard she had a head injury.”

It took a moment for the words to make sense.

Henry had been thinking of Tessa as a witness.

Brett was right, though. She was also a victim.

“I haven’t heard much except that she’s been admitted.”

“I wonder if there is anything I can to do help. We owe her a lot. If she hadn’t intervened, our Everly might not be with us.” A semiretired neurosurgeon, Brett had earned a reputation as being one of the best in his field. He still taught classes and gave lectures, and if it was warranted, assisted in cutting-edge neurosurgeries in Boston.

“I spoke to her before the ambulance transported Everly. She seemed lucid, but I’m going to check on her. I’ll let you know if things are worse than I suspect.”

“Rachelle and I will stay close to the girls until you’re back,” Brett said, his dark eyes so much like Diane’s that Henry had to look away.

“Thanks. I’ll hurry.”

“Take your time. We’ll work out a plan of action when you return.” Brett stepped into the room and closed the door.

Henry hesitated for just long enough to convince himself that a police officer, a nurse and his in-laws were plenty of protection for the girls. Then he walked to the nurses’ station and asked for Tessa’s room number.

The nurse gave it after she checked a master list of people who were allowed information about and access to Tessa and Everly. It was a short list. One Henry had helped create.

Hospital staff were on high alert, watching for unusual activity and turning away the press, who was already gathering outside the hospital.

A little girl had nearly been kidnapped.

A stranger had saved her.

There would be no hiding that from the local press, and Henry was confident national syndicates would pick up the story. For now, the hospital and police were keeping the victim’s identity and the identity of the hero who’d intervened secret.

That was normal protocol, but this wasn’t a normal case.

Not to Henry.

The perpetrator preyed on innocent children.

The victim was his daughter.

And he owed Tessa Carlson more than he could ever repay.

He would keep that debt in the forefront of his mind when he questioned her. He would also remember Brett’s comment—Tessa was a victim, too. But he wanted answers, and he wanted them quickly. He wanted to know why she’d walked away when the police arrived. He wanted to know what she’d seen, and what she was hiding.

He wanted to take whatever information she had and use it to track down the monster who had gone after Everly and who wouldn’t stop preying on the innocent until he was caught.

That was Henry’s goal and his mission, and he wouldn’t allow Tessa’s obvious reluctance keep him from achieving it.

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