Dani Sinclair - The Silent Witness

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

“I’ve got to go before he finds me. Thanks for everything, Nicki.”

“Wait!”

Ilona hung up before Nicki’s common sense could offer more of a protest. She shut her eyes trying desperately to think. An authoritative pounding sounded on her back door. Nicki quivered in reaction. Time was up. She had a choice—betray her old friend or her first lover.

Taking a deep breath, Nicki slowly stood and went to admit the police.

“ON YOUR FEET, Coughlin.”

Alex stared at Sergeant Thad Osher’s boyishly round face and thought about how good it would feel to plant his fist in that smugly satisfied expression. Keys jingled in the lock. The cell door parted. Alex came off the cot in one unhurried motion. The fast movement was enough to make Osher take a quick step back. His hand automatically went to the weapon at his side.

“Planning to shoot me, Thaddie?”

Red-faced, Osher glared at him. “Just give me a reason. Turn around.”

“Restraints?” He tried not to let the other man see how angry he was. “You really are afraid of me, aren’t you? My lawyer’s going to have a field day with this one. I don’t imagine Chief Hepplewhite’s going to be any too pleased either. He cares about things like a prisoner’s rights.”

“Shut up.”

Osher clamped the handcuffs around his wrists tight enough to pinch. Alex didn’t make a sound, not even when he was given a shove forward that caused him to crash against the far wall.

Down the hall, a cluster of men waited outside a room. Alex recognized Jake Collins right away. Collins had recently converted the old Perry place into a local bar and restaurant. There were a lot of wild rumors circulating about the newcomer and where he’d earned the money to pull off such a feat. But Alex knew that was mostly because Collins tended to keep to himself.

Alex’s gaze shifted. Another man was Officer Derek Jackstone, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He almost hadn’t recognized the man. Jackstone would do well if he ever tried undercover work. Put him in different clothing and he tended to blend in.

One of the other two men also looked vaguely familiar, but Alex couldn’t place him or the fourth man immediately.

The room they waited outside of served as the interrogation room. Alex had graced the insides before. He didn’t have to wonder why they were all being herded in there now.

“I’m going to take these cuffs off in a minute for the lineup, Coughlin, but just remember, one false move—”

“What lineup?”

“Shut up.”

Osher gave him another shove. All four men looked up. Jackstone took a quick step in their direction. He was a good cop. “Problem, Thad?”

“No problem. Right, Coughlin?”

Alex met Jackstone’s eyes. “Osher arrested me, but he won’t tell me the specific charge. He also won’t let me call my lawyer.”

Derek’s frown deepened. Osher scowled. “Plenty of time for that after the lineup.”

Alex spun around fast enough to make Osher back up again. “What lineup? I want to know why I’m being held.”

“You read him his rights, Thad?”

“Of course I did.”

“Osher’s never heard of illegal harassment,” Alex told Jackstone. “I think my lawyer is going to have to instruct him.”

“Take the cuffs off, Thad,” Derek said. “Mr. Coughlin isn’t going to cause us any trouble. Isn’t that right?”

“Not at all,” Alex told him pleasantly. “I plan to cause Osher here a great deal of trouble, but all of it will be legal, I promise.”

When Osher would have shoved him again, Jackstone quickly stepped between them.

“Back off, Derek,” Osher demanded.

“You’re letting him bait you, Thad. Let him go.”

“No way. I’m personally going to see this smart-mouthed punk is put away until he’s too old to hold a fork.”

Alex stared hard at Osher’s ruddy complexion. “Even if it means you have to manufacture evidence?”

Osher shoved Jackstone aside. He gripped Alex’s shirt-front. Coffee foully laced his breath. “I don’t have to manufacture anything, Coughlin. We’ve got an eyewitness to that shooting last night. That should put you away for a very long time.”

“That’s enough, Thad,” Jackstone said quickly. “Let him go and get those cuffs off him. We’ve got an audience, in case you forgot. The chief isn’t going to like this.”

Osher muttered a vicious oath, but he released the cuffs. Alex rubbed his chafed wrists openly, while trying to think back to the events of the night before. Eyewitnesses were notoriously unreliable, but what if this one did pick him out?

“Come on, Coughlin,” Jackstone said quietly. “Let’s get this over with.” He opened the door to the interrogation room.

“This is your idea of an official lineup?”

“We aren’t equipped with all the bells and whistles, but this will do,” the young officer replied.

“My lawyer’s going to be rubbing his hands with glee.”

Osher cursed again, but allowed Jackstone to lead Alex into the room. Alex heard the lock click on the door behind them. The room was empty except for a table and three chairs. One wall had a two-way mirror. Alex resisted the urge to make a childishly rude gesture in that direction. Instead, he sauntered over to perch on the edge of the tabletop.

He stared directly into his own face, careful to keep his features as expressionless as possible, while mentally reviewing his actions the night before. Who was their witness? And exactly what had the person seen?

The witness could be one of the shop owners who’d stepped out back, or a customer in the parking lot, or even someone in one of the apartments over the shops. None of the stores had rear-facing windows. Fortunately, that meant the witness couldn’t be Nicki. She’d been inside her shop all night, right up until the gunshots had sounded.

Alex frowned. Once he’d learned about her craft shop, he’d deliberately stayed away from that part of town. The last thing he could afford was the complication of running into Nicki Michaels again after all this time. But everything had changed last night with a single phone call. All his good intentions dissolved. He’d stood across the street and watched her move around inside her store while he remembered things that were better left forgotten.

“Stand up, Coughlin.” Osher’s voice came from a speaker on the wall in the corner. “Everyone needs to stand against the rear wall and face the mirror.”

Jake Collins frowned. So did one of the other two men Alex didn’t know. In fact, that man looked decidedly nervous. Alex paid him a little more attention, especially when he found himself sandwiched between Collins and the stranger. The man’s jeans were crusted with dirt and greasy stains. He smelled of motor oil and sweat and stale cigarettes. He had a working man’s hands. Dirt was caked under the split and broken fingernails. Alex wondered who he was and what he was doing here in Fools Point. A drifter? They didn’t get many of those here in town.

One at a time, Osher had the men take a step forward and stand in profile. Despite the fact that all of them had dark hair and were of a similar build, if someone had seen Alex in the alley last night, they weren’t going to be fooled by this charade. Most police forces didn’t bother with lineups any more. They showed victims or witnesses pictures instead, but Osher was making it blatantly clear who he wanted this witness to point out. Chief Hepplewhite had picked a bad week to take his wife into D.C. for medical evaluation.

Hepplewhite was a good cop. Smart, thorough, with no axes to grind. Osher, on the other hand, couldn’t find a clue if he was stepping on one. Alex stepped back and waited to be denounced. Minutes later, Osher’s voice filled the room again. This time, he sounded disgusted.