Witness Undercover

“Time for my break,” she said upon seeing them. She turned to the side to accommodate a small slender man with a long gray ponytail dangling from under a grimy baseball cap.

As Griffin and Laura shifted to give the newcomers some room, she noticed he kept her between himself and Joy.

When the elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened, the passengers angled so the older women could exit first. The movement caused Laura to scoot closer to her bodyguard.

The remaining occupants surged forward, knocking her off balance for a second. Someone bumped her from behind and Laura reflexively reached for the wall. Instead, she got Griffin’s iron-hard biceps. Just as she steadied herself, Laura felt a sharp prick in her free arm.

She jerked, drawing in a jagged breath at the shooting pain.

Griffin immediately pulled her closer, allowing the rest of the group to disembark. “What? What is it?”

“Something just stuck me.” She started to pull up her sleeve, then stopped short at the sight of a syringe dangling from her sweater sleeve. She made a noise and Griffin’s hand settled heavily on her shoulder as he turned her slightly toward him.

Though no one was waiting for the elevator at the moment, Griffin ushered her and her aunt off. After they entered the area that opened into the lobby, he stopped them and took Laura’s arm, examining it carefully.

Joy leaned in. “What is that?”

“A syringe,” Griffin said grimly.

Laura reached for it, but he grabbed her hand.

“Don’t touch it.” He glanced at Joy. “Do you have a tissue?”

“I have a handkerchief.”

As her aunt pulled the cotton cloth from her purse, Laura remained still, her arm smarting. The hankie was one made by Joy, her first name embroidered with a signature flower in place of the o in her name. Laura had one just like it.

Using the handkerchief to pluck the needle out, Griffin studied the clear liquid in the syringe. “It’s full of something.”

“Drugs?” Laura’s voice shook. Or something worse? she wondered.

“I’ll find out. How’s your arm?”

“It stings, but the pain is already starting to fade.” She pushed up the fabric to reveal a short raw scratch just above her elbow.

Concern clouded Joy’s eyes as she looked at Griffin. “Do you think someone did this on purpose?”

His face darkened. “I don’t know.”

Laura’s gaze shifted to the man beside her, her heart suddenly pounding hard. “If it was deliberate, why stick me in the arm? That seems as if it would draw too much attention from others in the elevator.”

“Maybe they meant to stick you somewhere else.”

She swallowed hard.

“Like in the side or the hip.” Devaney gently eased her closer to the wall. “All of the jostling as people left the car could’ve made them miss their target. I doubt they meant to leave this syringe behind, but it snagged in your sweater. They couldn’t retrieve it without drawing attention to themselves.”

Mouth dry, she stared up at Griffin. She mentally reviewed all of the faces of the people who’d ridden the elevator with them, but she couldn’t remember anything unusual or suspicious or recall anyone being jumpy.

A muscle working in his jaw, Griffin’s gaze scanned the milling crowd.

“Do you see anything?” she asked.

“No one running away or looking guilty or even appearing to be interested in us.”

Dread curled through her as Griffin cautiously wrapped the needle in the handkerchief and slid it into his coat pocket. He then took Laura’s elbow and steered her toward the hospital entrance.

Joy followed. “What are we going to do?”

“First I’m going to figure out if there’s a security camera in the elevator,” he said. “Then when we get to my house, Sydney can draw some of Laura’s blood. She has medic training. We’ll send that along with the syringe to a lab we use. Then we’ll know the contents and if any of it is in your blood.”

“Does it really matter what’s in the syringe?” Laura tried to temper her tone, but fear gave her voice a sharp edge.

“Once we determine the contents,” he said in a low voice, “we’ll know if they meant to harm you.”

“And how badly,” Laura finished quietly at the realization.

Joy’s gaze went from her niece to Griffin. “Do you mean it might have killed her?”

“Can’t dismiss the possibility.”

“Oh, dear.” The older woman’s face tightened with apprehension. “Could Vin have had anything to do with this?”

Griffin’s steel-hard gaze slid to Laura’s and held. “We have to assume so until we know differently.”

Laura struggled to breathe past the crushing pressure in her chest.

Could her ex have already found her? If so, how?

TWO (#ulink_6b9c2b97-663f-5808-8713-af8940bb8d6b)

An hour later, Griffin had Laura settled in his house. Back at the hospital, she’d lost all color and had outwardly trembled at the thought that Arrico might have already found her. Griffin hadn’t seen fear like that since his last rescue two years ago. He didn’t like seeing it on someone he was supposed to protect.

She’d hardly spoken during the drive out west of Oklahoma City. Joy was on her way, escorted by Sydney Tate, Enigma’s sole female operator. To be safe, Griffin had disinfected Laura’s arm. Then they had eaten dinner. She’d been quiet throughout the meal, a sense of dread palpable in the room.

Before they’d left the hospital, Griffin had checked the security footage from the elevator. So as not to alert anyone else in the hospital, he had managed to keep that between him and the guard in the equipment room. It was impossible to tell who had jabbed Laura with the syringe.

It could’ve been the kid in the hoodie or the nurse or the guy who’d gotten on last. The nurse would certainly have easy access to a syringe. Since they hadn’t reported the incident, only they and the person with the syringe knew what had happened. Before Griffin gave out that information to the nurse, he would observe her, see how she behaved around Laura. Griffin stood in the doorway between his kitchen and living room. Fluorescent light brightened the room, gliding over the white cabinets and light blue walls. His guest sat at the kitchen table in front of the bay window.

It was weird having a woman here. He never had, not in this house, anyway. He didn’t bring dates here. In fact, he hadn’t had a date since his broken engagement to Emily. And so far in this job, he hadn’t needed to host a client—male or female.

Papers were scattered across the table’s oak surface and Laura’s head was bent as she worked on the mountain of forms needed by the hospital and the transplant doctor. Her black hair was down now, sliding around her shoulders like a silky midnight cloud. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

She glanced up and saw him. Griff braced one shoulder against the doorframe. “How’s your arm?”

“A little sore. Not bad.”

“Getting through all of the paperwork?”