Kathleen Long - Reluctant Witness

It was a shame the kid had to be silenced, but an order was an order. The driver shook his head. He had no choice. Keeping the kid quiet was the only way they could carry out the rest of the plan.

The pieces had begun to fall into place, and they couldn’t afford to be derailed now—by a witness—even if that witness was just a kid. The game had changed once the local inspector had died.

Careless.

He’d been careless. The construction site had been clear when he’d set the devices. He hadn’t even spotted the inspector’s truck when he’d fled the scene, only hearing about the victim later on, from news reports.

Silencing the kid would redeem his mistake and keep the organization intact.

He pressed down on the accelerator, closing the gap between the van and the bike. The plan was a simple one.

A hit-and-run.

A fatal accident wouldn’t be a first for this isolated stretch of road, but it would be the last for the witness.

Just a few more yards and the threat of exposure would be eliminated.

Permanently.

Wade pulled to the end of the drive, quickly glanced to make sure the road was clear, then turned in the direction Tom had taken. He pressed the accelerator to the floor and squinted down the road, frowning when he realized a plain white van obscured his view.

A plain white van.

Suspicion rolled through him, and as much as he tried to tell himself his imagination was working overtime, he couldn’t convince himself otherwise.

The phone call to Kerri had been real, just as any perceived threat to Tom had to be considered real.

The van’s brake lights illuminated briefly, the vehicle slowing just enough for Wade to make out Tom’s figure not far in front of the truck. The kid was so busy bouncing his bike on and off the edge of the road he was no doubt oblivious to the fact there was a van close behind him.

The van accelerated suddenly. Wade’s heart stopped cold in his chest. What in the hell was the driver doing?

And then he realized.

The driver was aiming for Tom.

Wade hit his horn, keeping one palm pressed to the steering wheel to keep the sound blaring as he floored the truck, urging it forward. As he closed the distance between him and the van, he searched for any sign of a license plate, but saw none.

None.

A plain white van without a license plate on a deserted stretch of road steering straight for the sole witness to a violent crime.

He needed no imagination to put those pieces together.

Wade pounded the horn now, a quick series of loud blares, hoping he’d jolt Tom from his play and alert him to the danger closing in from behind.

Just as Wade’s truck closed to within inches of the van’s bumper, the vehicle swerved sharply toward the shoulder, its right wheels dipping into the sandy soil. The brake lights never illuminated; if anything, the van sped up.

Tom.

My God.

Fear seized Wade’s heart and twisted.

Just as quickly as the van had swerved off the road, it swerved back on and sped away. Wade braked, frantically searching for any sign of Tom or his bike.

Then he spotted it. A chrome wheel rim, spinning upside down between a small stand of firs.

“Tom,” he uttered the word on the breath of a whisper, skidding his truck to a stop, slamming it into Park and launching himself out of the driver’s seat.

Kerri would never forgive him. Hell, he’d never forgive himself. Why had he been so intent on bringing whoever had torched Pine Ridge to justice?

Was erasing any doubt about his own reputation or insurance fraud so important he’d risk Tom’s safety?

“Tom!”

He raced toward the spot where the bike wheel spun, slowing as it lost momentum. Something in the foliage moved and Tom’s pale face appeared from behind the trees. “What happened?”

Wade reached him in two strides and pulled him into an embrace. “Did the van hit you?”

“No.” Tom shook his head slightly. “I heard the beeping and I figured he was out of control or something. I ditched into the trees and got out of the way.”

“Good job, buddy.” Wade shot up a silent prayer of thanks and breathed the words into Tom’s hair. “Good job.”

Tom pushed away from Wade and turned toward his bike. “Think it’s ruined?”

Wade shook his head, reaching to pull the bike from the trees, wanting only to get Tom back to the safety of Kerri’s house. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.” He tipped his chin toward the truck. “Climb in. Let’s get you home.”

“But my papers.”

“Throw them in the back. We’ll figure something out.”

As Tom settled into the passenger seat next to Wade, the boy frowned. “Do you think that guy will be all right? Maybe his brakes are out or something.”

“Or something,” Wade muttered. “Let’s just say I think he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Tom’s gaze narrowed, but Wade said nothing more as he made a three-point turn and headed back toward Kerri’s drive, silently vowing to make sure the driver got exactly what was coming to him.

KERRI HAD JUST RETURNED the last of the breakfast dishes to the kitchen cabinet when Tom’s voice rang out from the front of the house.

“Mom!”

The anxiousness palpable in his one word sent her heart lurching into her throat. She spun away from the kitchen counter just as her son cleared the doorway and launched himself into her arms. He buried his head against her denim shirt and she wrapped her arms around him, holding tight, not asking the questions pounding through her brain.

What happened?

Are you all right?

What are you doing back from your route so early?

When Wade stepped into the kitchen, his face ashen, their eyes met and held. In that moment, Kerri knew all she needed to know. Something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

Had someone tried to hurt her son—or worse? Had it been whoever called last night? Was it the man who’d set the devices at the Pine Ridge site?

The details didn’t matter.

Her son’s safety did.

“I’m sorry.” Wade spoke the words flatly, in a defeated tone.

Tom pushed away from Kerri’s embrace, his eyes bright with a mix of excitement and fear. “You should have seen it, Mom. This guy in a van, he was out of control. I ditched into the trees and then Wade was there. I think the guy’s brakes were out or something.”

Or something, Kerri thought.

Wade winced when she glared at him and she knew she’d hit the mark.

Her son’s close call hadn’t been an accident.

Whoever wanted Tom’s silence apparently wasn’t going to sit around and give the boy a second chance. Well, she had no intention of giving Tom’s attacker a second chance at her son.

She squeezed Tom’s upper arms. “Run up to your room for a minute, honey.”

“But my route…”

Genuine concern shone brightly in his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile inwardly at his devotion to his paper route.

“I’ll call the paper and let them know what happened.” She tipped her chin toward the hall. “I’ll be up in a few minutes. And pull out your duffel bag.”

Kerri shifted her focus to Wade as she spoke her next words. “You and I are going to take a little trip.”

Tom frowned, but asked no questions, his footfalls pounding up the stairs a moment later.

Wade stepped close and Kerri took a backward step, having no desire to be physically near the man. What little warmth she’d felt toward him earlier vanished, chilled by the dangerous situation into which he’d tossed her son.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A mix of frustration and concern blazed in his eyes.

“Getting my son as far away from here as possible.” The fury in her voice startled her.