Silent Weapon

I could do this. Yes, I had my moments of doubt, like back in the cemetery, but for the most part I was cool with the way this appeared to be going down. Sawyer had made his contact and a rendezvous time had been set. All I had to do now was stay close, wait and not get caught. It was entirely possible that a man like Sawyer had people watching him for security purposes. In fact, it was more than simply possible. It was probable. I could be under surveillance myself at this very moment, but I doubted it since no one had approached my car. Maybe Sawyer wasn’t as smart as he considered himself to be. Just maybe he thought he had gotten away with murder so he had nothing to worry about.

I felt my phone vibrate, and my breath caught. My heart squeezed once in my throat before slipping back down into my chest. I cursed. Getting this jumpy wasn’t a smart idea. Get a grip, Merri. It’s way too early to be this antsy. My next thought evaporated as my gaze focused on the caller ID.

Barlow.

What the hell did he think he was doing? Any distraction could be dangerous. But I had to answer…didn’t I? I needed him. If he chalked up my call to some crank playing jokes…I couldn’t take the chance.

“Hello,” I said quietly.

Why did you call me with that ominous message, Miss Walters?

I stared at the screen as my heart bumped madly against my sternum. What the hell did I say to that? Worse, why hadn’t I thought of this very scenario? Not only would he have my name after checking his ID unit, he would have my cell number. I knew that…I just hadn’t considered he would call back. So many, many possibilities. Obviously too many for a mere file clerk to have anticipated.

I know who you are. I just can’t figure out what you hope to accomplish with this hoax.

Fear blasted through me. Hoax? Oh, my God. That was the last thing I needed. If I couldn’t make him believe me, he might not come when I need him. There had to be a way to convince him. But how? What could I say that would prove anything? Quoting my knowledge of his old case would prove nothing. I didn’t actually have any evidence to back up what I knew would happen tonight. I’d launched this unofficial investigation on a hunch. The only proof of anything I possessed was my word as to what I had seen play out in that bar tonight. I had waited all week for Sawyer to react to the trap I had set. Quite honestly, I’d begun to believe I might have made a mistake.

Then he’d made his move. My conclusions on the case had been right. I had to see this through…couldn’t let anything go wrong now.

I swallowed my trepidation and said the only thing I knew to say, “Detective Barlow, this is no hoax.” I moistened my lips and plunged onward. “I’ve read the case file a dozen times over. You know I’m right about Sawyer…you knew it three years ago, you just couldn’t prove it. I can help you do that now. Tonight.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Just stay by your phone and I’ll call you with a location as soon as possible. After that there won’t be much time. You must come as soon as I call.”

Silence radiated across the line. The ability to hear wasn’t necessary. The absence of words on the screen screamed loudly of his hesitation. He still wasn’t convinced.

How did you get the file on Sawyer?

Oh, no. I wasn’t going to do his legwork for him. “I’ll let you figure that one out on your own. Right now I have to go.” I had already allowed my attention to be splintered by the conversation for too long.

Where are you?

I ended the call. I felt reasonably sure that the detective didn’t have the ability to do an impromptu trace on my call from his home, but I couldn’t be certain he hadn’t put in an order for someone else to do so before he placed his call to me. Triangulating my position could very well be entirely within Metro’s ability. I had watched enough TV crime dramas to feel fairly confident with that assessment. Why take the chance?

It was almost dark now. The sun barely glimmered above the horizon. Long shadows crept across the quiet street and lights glowed from a number of the windows of the high-rises along this block on the fringes of the business district. Seven cars besides mine lined the deserted street. Not nearly as many as I would have liked. At this hour most of the workers employed in the offices had long ago left for home, but a few remained to finish up necessary projects or to earn brownie points toward a promotion.

The building that housed Sawyer’s offices stood only four stories but looked as new as any of the others. According to the directory posted outside the main entrance, the lobby and a conference room were on the first floor. The entire top floor housed Sawyer’s suite of offices, and the floors in between, his worker bees. I didn’t know how long he would work tonight, but I needed to be prepared to move when the time came for him to make his appointment. I couldn’t let anything sidetrack me.

As if he’d picked up on the presence of unfriendly forces in the area, Sawyer exited the main entrance and strolled over to his SUV, which he’d parked in the small lot that fronted his building. His was the only building on the block that had its own private parking lot. That lot stood empty save for Sawyer’s SUV. He opened the driver’s-side door and rummaged around inside but his movements lacked real purpose. He seemed to be buying time. He closed the door and moved around the vehicle as if inspecting the exterior in the fading light. My heart rate kicked into a faster rhythm. What the hell was he doing? His gaze abruptly cut to the vehicles lining the curb on the far side of the street…including mine.

I slid down in my seat until I could scarcely see through the very bottom of the car window where it met the upholstery of the door. My breath stalled in my lungs as I waited to see what he would do next.

I didn’t have to wait long. He started across the lot, headed straight for this side of the street. What if he walked up to my car? Demanded to know who I was and what I was doing?

Not for a second did I dare take my eyes off him. Above the dash I saw him pause at one of the cars parked farther up, four vehicles past my position. Every mistake I had made in my calculations of how this little operation would go down flashed before my eyes. I hadn’t considered that he might have extra security, though I hadn’t seen hide or hair of anyone as of yet. Or that Barlow would give me any grief when I told him I’d solved his case for him. I also hadn’t given any thought to what I would do if a moment like this transpired.

If Sawyer moved toward my vehicle…what would I do?

My fingers itched to reach toward the ignition and turn the key. With nothing parked behind me, I could throw the transmission into Reverse and barrel all the way down the block before executing a quick turn to get the hell out of here. But if I did that, he would know. The whole operation would be blown and then my efforts would be for nothing.

And Barlow would know what I had done. Not to mention that Sawyer would likely get my license plate number as I rushed away and he would not rest until he tracked me down. My new career, such as it is, would be over, but far worse, my life likely would be as well.

So, I forced myself to remain perfectly still. To keep my breathing slow and steady. To stay as calm as anyone could in this situation.

The top of his head disappeared from my line of vision and I felt my insides go cold. Was he moving toward my car now? Keeping low so I wouldn’t see him? I balled my fingers into fists and fought the need to run.

I resisted the near overwhelming urge to close my eyes and wait for death to descend. Good thing, too, because a gray sedan suddenly drove past my position. Sawyer was behind the wheel. He didn’t even look in my direction.

Profound relief washed over me. As difficult as it was, I waited three more seconds before I eased back up in the seat and started my car. By the time I backed up and turned around he had stopped at the end of the block to wait for the traffic signal to change. In my peripheral vision I noted that one of the parked cars was missing. Why did he keep a car parked on the street when he had a lot in front of his building?

The answer was simple, I realized. He, unlike me, had contingency plans.

Though it was dark now I didn’t turn on my headlights. I rolled slowly forward, giving the signal time to change so that he would be focused on moving through the intersection rather than on what came up behind him. As he pulled out onto the main street, I followed. He merged into traffic on the cross street, which facilitated my ability to tail him and allowed me to turn on my headlights. This new vehicle he drove was a late model, four doors. Much harder to keep in sight since it blended in with the other vehicles rather than rising above them as the SUV had done.

I felt damned proud that I’d managed to keep my head about me during that last minute or so. If I’d ducked down too far in my seat or closed my eyes, I would never have seen him leave. I would still be parked on that street in front of his office wondering where he’d disappeared to. I prayed my good luck and my nerve would hold out for another hour and forty-five minutes.

Steven Barlow had worked murder cases for too long to talk about. He shook his head as he allowed his mind to traverse the files and faces of his professional past. That was never a good idea. Too many ugly reminders of the evil that men and women alike could do.

With hard work he managed to bring the killer to justice most of the time. Hardly ever failed, to be quite honest. But three years ago, he had. Failed, that is.

Brett Sawyer had gotten away with murder and Steven knew in his gut the man was guilty as sin. But he hadn’t been able to prove it. Whether Sawyer was that smart or just damned lucky, he still couldn’t say. And it really didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the bastard had gotten away with it.

Steven plowed his fingers through his hair and stared at the phone on the table next to his couch. What the hell was Merrilee Walters doing? How did she think she could pull this off? Not that Steven considered himself infallible, but at least he had the gold shield that gave him license to track down killers. This woman was a file clerk, for Christ’s sake!

Worry gnawed at his gut. Did the woman have a death wish? He put in a call to dispatch and had all calls to his home forwarded to his cell phone in the event he had to leave the house any minute now. Then he requested a trace on Merrilee’s cellular. Just to be sure he got her, he put out a silent APB on her car. He didn’t want her name going out over the airwaves just in case anyone who owed Sawyer was listening and…

“Just in case she’s nuts,” he muttered.

After the initial call it had taken a moment, but he’d remembered the woman. She worked in the archives. Cute. Flaming red hair. Pretty green eyes. Shy.

She’d never spoken to him, nor had he to her.

But then, his social life pretty much sucked. He stared at the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table that he’d been devouring before her call. Hell, it was Saturday night, and since he wasn’t hot on the trail of some killer, he sat at home, alone, watching a made-for-television movie.

Refusing to be disgusted with his own choices, Steven hauled himself up from the couch and followed his instincts. Might as well get dressed for business.

That old sixth sense—cop sense—was telling him to get ready. Merrilee Walters had gotten herself into a whole shitload of trouble, and if he didn’t do something about it she would most likely end up dead.

No way in hell was he going to let Sawyer get away with murder again. Even if the victim had brought it on herself.

Steven shook his head again. What the hell was this little file clerk up to?

Chapter 3

That’s the problem with being deaf. You can’t hear a damned thing. My impairment is commonly called profound loss. You don’t hear anything at all. I hadn’t heard Sawyer open the car door or slam it shut. Hadn’t heard the engine start or anything else.

I’ve learned to live with the lack of that crucial sense. What else could I do? But it had been devastating at first. Even now a slice of pain went through me at the memory. A few months before my twenty-eighth birthday I’d suffered a typical sinus infection. Nothing major, the usual nuisance. But the infection wasn’t just any old bug, it was a rare strain that would evolve and spread and do serious damage before the doctors, including the best ENT to be found in the whole state, could recognize and stop it. In the end, I survived, but my hearing was gone. A mixed hearing loss, functional as well as neurological.

What on earth did a twenty-seven-year-old woman do when she suddenly found herself deaf? Who wanted an elementary school teacher who didn’t know how to be deaf? One who no longer knew how to teach without the ability to hear? Needless to say, the school board did the only thing they could, they gave me a disability pension. And my fiancé, the very one I was supposed to wed in a mere three months, walked away from our relationship with no real explanation. I could only deduce that, as a songwriter, he felt that the woman with whom he would share the rest of his life needed to be able to hear and appreciate his music.

So, here I was, two years later, venturing out on my very first unsafe limb. Diving into my very first adventure as a handicapped woman.