Witness on the Run

Jake suspected that Ethan hadn’t told his men that he had enlisted Jake’s help. Ethan had called last week asking if Jake had time to keep an eye on the after-hours activity at the Chambers Building, keep track of who came and went and at what times. Ethan knew something was going on in that building after hours, he just didn’t know what.

“What client?” Monroe asked.

“Confidential.” Jake wasn’t giving that up until E gave him permission to do so. When he’d called Jake, he’d said he suspected some kind of police corruption and needed to keep Jake’s involvement on the q.t.

Monroe narrowed his eyes at Jake. “Uh-huh. What time did you see her leave the building?”

“At 9:07.”

“Was she alone?”

“Yes.”

“And she was running?”

“She was. I got out of the car and called out to her. That freaked her out even more, and she took off down Seneca. She didn’t get more than a block when the SUV nailed her.”

“We’ve got officers at the scene questioning the driver.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“Perhaps, but there’s a good chance Ms. Strand witnessed the shooting of Detective Edwards and needed to be silenced.”

“Was Edwards working a case?”

“That’s confidential.”

“Where did you find the body?” Jake asked.

“I’m supposed to be asking the questions,” Monroe said.

The E.R. doors swung open and Ethan marched out, worry lines creasing his forehead.

“Well?” Detective Monroe asked.

“She doesn’t remember anything.”

“About the shooting?” Jake asked.

Ethan pinned him with angry eyes. “Anything. As in, she can’t remember her name, where she’s from, what day it is.”

“That’s convenient,” Detective Monroe said, snapping his notebook shut.

Jake eyed the detective. “Convenient?”

“Sure, if she’s involved.”

Not in a million years, Jake thought. Fragile Robin Strand was no more a criminal than Jake was good father material.

“Doctor is calling it traumatic amnesia due to the blow to her head,” Ethan explained. “It’s temporary.”

“How temporary?” Monroe pushed.

“They don’t know,” Ethan said. “We all want this guy, Monroe. We’re just going to have to be patient or find him another way.”

“If the perp thinks she’s a witness and doesn’t know about this amnesia thing, then she’s still in danger,” Jake said.

“Then she should remember quick so we can put the guy away,” Detective Monroe snapped.

“It’s not like she’s choosing to forget,” Jake said.

“No?” Monroe challenged.

Ethan stepped between Jake and Detective Monroe. “Dunn, you stay and watch over Ms. Strand. Monroe and I will get with the crime scene investigator.”

Detective Monroe didn’t move at first. He stared at the E.R. doors.

It was devastating to lose a brother in blue and frustrating to know the eyewitness was unable to help.

Or unwilling?

“Thanks, buddy,” Ethan said, shaking Jake’s hand again. “You’ve done more than enough.”

“Hey, E, I need to—”

“Later, okay?” He started down the hall with Monroe, turned and said, “Go home, Jake. Get some sleep.”

“Hey, I don’t take orders from you anymore,” Jake said in reference to their childhood roles. Ethan had played an army major and Jake a sergeant. Even then, they’d dreamed of serving their country.

Ethan waved him off and disappeared outside.

Jake glanced at Detective Dunn, who stood rigidly beside the E.R. doors pressing buttons on his cell phone. Dunn was tall, husky and angry-looking. Sure he was. A brother had just been killed, possibly a friend. Jake had lost his share of those in Iraq.

“How long have you been a cop?” Jake asked.

“Ten years,” Dunn said, not looking up.

“Before that?”

“Military.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Which branch?”

The E.R. doors burst open and a young nurse glanced at Jake, then Detective Dunn. “Who came in with Miss Strand?”

“That would be me,” Jake said. “Jake Walters.”

“She’s asking for you.”