The Deputy's Witness

“Alyssa, how are you doing?” he repeated with a tone that reminded her of a parent. She managed a defeated sigh.

“I think I might pass out soon,” she admitted. “It’s getting really hard to breathe.”

If this alarmed the deputy, he didn’t show it. In fact, neither man did. Which meant she probably looked as bad as she felt and they had been expecting it. The cold water she’d had through a straw hadn’t been enough. Just like the fan that had been set up next to the car. It had only pushed the heat toward her. In no way did it alleviate the temperature she was currently suffering through.

“Then why don’t we get you out of here?” Charlie said.

“That would be nice,” she responded. Picturing a bathtub filled with ice cubes with her name on it. Forget about citrus bath salts.

A man she didn’t recognize walked up to the car and cleared his throat.

“Can I have a moment, sir?” he asked Charlie.

He nodded, flashed a quick smile to Alyssa and then walked off. Again, she couldn’t hear what was discussed, but the movement brought attention to the far end of the parking lot. It was being cleared. The staff from the courthouse, and even some people from the sheriff’s department next door, were moving farther away.

Alyssa looked back at Deputy Foster. She realized he was wearing a bomb vest. “So, do they think they can really get me out of here?”

The deputy followed her gaze to his vest. He straightened it and then lowered himself to meet her stare head-on.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he started. “I don’t know them personally, but the sheriff and Captain Jones both say Charlie and his team are the best in the South.” He cut another grin. “And they think they’re going to get you out of this with all limbs attached, so I’m going to bet on a yes.”

Alyssa gave the smallest of nods. Her vision was starting to blur a little. She tried to pull in a calming breath. The air was so wet she felt like she was drowning.

“Hey, listen to me,” he continued, tone tough. Stern. “When they get you out of here, how about I take you out for a nice jug of sweet tea? That’s something you guys seem to like around here, right? Sweet tea?”

Despite everything, Alyssa snorted.

“You must be from up north,” she muttered, each word strained.

She watched as his look of concern seemed to grow. Then, altogether, he began to blur.

“Alyssa,” he said, voice raised. “All you have to do is sit still. You got that?”

“I’m trying,” she defended. To her own ears she sounded breathless. And not in that sexy Scarlett O’Hara way.

Charlie swam back into view a few seconds later. His mask was down now. He turned to the deputy. “I guess if your captain and sheriff can’t make you leave, then I shouldn’t try either.”

The deputy shook his head. At least, that was what Alyssa thought he did. Either way, when Charlie was addressing her, Deputy Foster was still there.

It was comforting.

“Okay, Miss Garner, I’m going to very slowly try to replace your weight with this metal plate,” he said, already going into the back seat, the only way to reach the bomb. Which made her a little happier, considering she didn’t think her floorboard could accommodate the big man like it had the deputy. “When we’ve done that successfully, then Deputy Foster here will take you somewhere much cooler.”

“O-Okay.”

The world around her was becoming one giant blur. Alyssa wanted to watch what Charlie was doing. She wanted to ask questions. She wanted to tell Deputy Foster to go where it was safe. But the fact of the matter was, Alyssa was putting all the energy she had left into not passing out.

* * *

CALEB WAS SWEATING BULLETS.

He split his focus between Charlie trying to fool the bomb by thinking Alyssa was still sitting on top of it and the woman herself. Since the water and fan hadn’t worked, she’d spent almost forty-five minutes being drained, and now he wasn’t sure if she’d make it past another minute.

Her head was leaning back against the headrest, and her eyelids seemed to be fighting gravity. Caleb wanted to touch her, to remind her he was there, but he couldn’t. Not just because of the bomb. While he was starting to get an idea of her character, she still had no idea about his.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

“Okay. Here we go. Get ready to grab her,” Charlie commanded. “I think I’ve—What the hell?”

Alyssa must have really been out of it. She didn’t look alarmed in the slightest at the sharp tone the man trying to disarm the bomb beneath her took on.

But Caleb did. “What’s go—”

Click.

“Damn,” Charlie interrupted. “Grab her!”

Click. Click.

“Grab her now,” Charlie yelled again, struggling out of the back seat in his uniform.

Caleb didn’t have to be told a third time.

He threaded his arms beneath Alyssa’s legs and back and hoisted her out in one quick move.

Click.

Charlie was already yelling, “Now run!”

Caleb tucked Alyssa against his chest and ran faster than he’d ever run before.

“Eight seconds,” Charlie yelled out to anyone who could hear.

Like ants in the rain, everyone in front of or behind the blocked-off perimeter of the parking lot scurried this way and that, trying to get as far away as they could. The crowd that had formed was yelling while deputies and bomb squad alike were barking orders to each other and bystanders.

Two members of the squad in particular stood out. Instead of running away from the car, they were running toward Caleb, Alyssa and Charlie with two dark blankets. When the five of them finally collided, Charlie yelled to hit the ground.

Caleb dove onto his side so he would take the brunt of the fall, and then just as quickly rolled over to cover the woman in his arms. The bomb squad men positioned themselves on either side of Charlie and Caleb and threw the blankets—which Caleb now realized were bomb blankets, made from layers of Kevlar—over each of them.

Caleb felt like he was being pulled every which way in the moments that followed. What-ifs sprang up in his mind like flowers in the spring—What if they hadn’t cleared the blast area? What if the bomb blanket didn’t help them? What if he never got to take Alyssa out for that drink of sweet tea he’d offered?—while his body seemed to be running on instinct. It created a cage around the woman, trying to make itself as big as possible to protect her at all costs. But then another part of him, one he didn’t know where it was coming from, was looking down at her face—slack from the unconsciousness she finally had given in to—and thinking how beautiful she was. But then everyone was yelling and he remembered to fear what was about to happen.

Not for himself, but for Alyssa.

Chapter Six (#udafacf7d-430d-5ea5-b5da-91df5756006b)

They waited.

And waited.