Going Down (12 page)

Just the word warrant had the ability to make Ellie’s knees shake. “Right…God, I feel like such a criminal.”

“You were scared and you ran. We’re going to fix it. With what you’ve just told me about being threatened by a dirty cop and your understandable fear, hopefully we’ll be able to arrange for you to turn yourself in without being arrested.”

Ellie swallowed hard. “Would I still have to testify?”

Megan stared at her for a moment, compassion in her gaze. “Of course, Ellie, you’re a key witness in this trial. If you don’t testify, James could walk. And now you’re likely going to be testifying against this officer as well.”

“Of course. You’re right. You’re totally right.” Ellie nodded and stood up, suddenly nauseous. “Sorry. I’ve just never let myself face the possibility of
actually
testifying
.”

“I understand. Look, let me make some phone calls. Go relax and try not to think about it too much.”

Ellie gave a wan smile and left the kitchen, her immediate plans not to think about it, but to get sick.

Chapter Fourteen

Ellie walked into their hotel room, her heart pounding a mile a minute. But then, it had been that way since they’d landed at O’Hare over an hour ago.

“How are you holding up?” Tyson asked, closing the door behind them.

“Exhausted. Mentally, at least. I think I want to just eat and then pass out,” she said, glancing around the room they’d be holed up in until tomorrow.

The past couple of days had been a blur of activity. Megan getting the motion granted to serve as her attorney and having the arrest warrant removed in exchange for Ellie agreeing to testify. Then Tyson buying airline tickets and getting them all on a flight to Chicago two days later.

After traveling all morning, they had finally arrived in Chicago. Only after dropping by to meet briefly with the prosecutor had they checked into a hotel. Megan had a room down the hall, and she and Tyson were sharing one. They’d agreed to hang out in the hotel, to keep a low profile, until after her testimony.

Tyson set down their bags and crossed the floor to where she stood, cupping her shoulders and pulling her close.

“Why don’t I order us some room service and then we can have some time in bed watching television?”

“I’d like that,” she finally murmured and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his shoulder. “Or maybe you could just hold me after dinner.”

He kissed the top of her head and murmured, “You know I will, sweetheart. Now, what do you want to eat?”

“Something light. I’m not sure I can hold down much…too nervous.”

“All right.” He set her aside and moved to the desk in the corner, picking up the binder on top. “Let’s see what they’ve got room service wise.”

Still half out of it with exhaustion, Ellie walked to the bed and pulled back the covers, climbing in and collapsing against the pillows.

“How about a chicken Caesar salad? And we split some garlic bread?”

Face still buried against the pillow, she mumbled, “Sure. Sounds good.”

Tyson laughed softly and then she heard him pick up the phone and order their food. A moment later, the bed dipped as he sat down.

When he smoothed a hand down her back, she sighed and rolled over to face him. He lay beside her, his elbow on the bed and his head propped up on his hand.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she asked softly. “You. Megan. Your family. You didn’t have to help me. And yet you’ve all joined in to help me through this. I’m completely blown away. Humbled.”

“We couldn’t walk away. For me, it wasn’t even an option.” He pushed a strand of hair off her head. “And Megan is just an incredible chick.”

“Is Megan the same Megan your mom was referring to at the barbeque? Trevor’s ex?”

“Yeah. She is.”

“Wow. That’s sad. She’s pretty awesome, and your brother seems great…if a bit haunted.”

“Hmm. Interesting word choice for Trevor, but it kind of fits.” Tyson frowned and then sighed, glancing toward the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower before the food gets here.”

“All right.”

Tyson leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her mouth, before climbing off the bed.

“Don’t fall asleep. You’ll need to answer the door when the food comes if I’m not out.”

“Not going to fall asleep,” she mumbled, but closed her eyes the moment he shut the bathroom door.

She must’ve drifted, because she jerked upright when a knock came at the door and someone called out from the other side. Hearing Tyson still in the shower, she scrambled off the bed, blinking away her disorientation and rushed to the door.

“Hang on.”

She unlocked the door and then began to pull it open. Wait, the person had yelled
housekeeping
, not
room service.

The door shoved inward and she stumbled back from the sheer force. Her stomach hit the floor as she realized the man who stepped inside the room was definitely not a hotel employee.

“Thought I warned you keep your mouth shut,” Officer Maliano muttered quietly and withdrew a gun from the waist of his pants.

She wanted to scream for Tyson, but her gaze was locked on the gun and her throat had gone tight.

The dirty cop strode toward her and wrapped his fingers around her neck, shoving her hard against the wall. She clawed at his hand, her ability to breathe completely gone.

“You trying to be all brave and honorable, Eleanor?” he sneered. “Going to testify tomorrow? I don’t think so. James wouldn’t like that. I don’t like that. You show up in that courtroom and you’re a dead bitch.”

He pressed the gun to her head and she closed her eyes, her body shaking violently as she grew dizzy from lack of oxygen.

“Got that? You’re
dead
. There are plenty of people who will do it. And you’ll suffer first. Maybe I’ll bring in some friends to take turns with you. You’ll be so goddamn horrified, you’ll beg me to kill you.”

Stars danced behind her closed lids and her effort to pry his hand away grew weaker as her fingers went numb.

She heard the shower turn off and Lionel glanced toward the bathroom, eyes narrowing.

His attention snapped back to her, as he demanded softly, “Do you
fucking understand me?
”

She nodded, anything to make him her go. And then he did. She dropped to the floor in a dead weight, sucking in air greedily.

His retreating footsteps sounded, followed by the soft click of the door shutting.

Officer Maliano had gone as quickly as he came.

Tyson had just pulled on his boxer shorts when he heard a thud. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and unease shot down his spine.

He jerked open the bathroom door and immediately spotted Ellie on the ground, clutching her neck. Fear and rage exploded in him as he strode into the room, helping her to her feet.

“The cop,” she croaked and pointed to the door.

“Call 9-1-1,” Tyson snarled, grabbing his gun out of the suitcase that sat open on the bed.

Then he tore out of the room and immediately spotted the man he assumed to be Ellie’s attacker pressing the elevator button down the hall.

The man heard Tyson coming and glanced his way. Any pretense at casualness disappeared as the man sprinted past the elevator toward the stairs.

Tyson pushed himself faster, his bare feet flying over the thin carpet of the halls. Shit, anyone who spotted them would think he was nuts. Running down the hall wearing nothing but boxer shorts, gun in his hand.

The cop ahead of him pushed open the stairwell and burst through, but Tyson was just seconds behind him now.

Tyson spotted the gun tucked into the man’s waistband, and knew he had no intention of using it. If he had, he would’ve shot Ellie in the room. No, the guy had only shown up to intimidate her into disappearing again—he was stupid, but not stupid enough to kill someone and face a murder charge.

The cop rounded the first sharp turn in the stairwell, and was almost directly parallel to him, but a floor down.

Tyson didn’t think, just acted. He grabbed the rail and leapt over it, falling probably six feet before he landed on the man and sent them both sprawling to the concrete steps.

Pain sizzled through Tyson’s wrist and the air was knocked violently out of him, but it only kept him down for a second. He staggered to his feet and leveled the gun at the dirty cop.

“Move and I’ll shoot,” he said.

But the man didn’t reply and his eyes were closed. Tyson knelt down, keeping the gun trained on him, and felt for a pulse.

Still there, but it was obvious the guy was out cold. Probably hit his head on the concrete when Tyson had jumped on him.

The door at the floor above burst open.

“Tyson!” Ellie’s scream reverberated in the empty stairwell.

“Down here,” he called out, holding his arm just above the wrist. “Did you call for help?”

“Yes! They’re on their way.” She hurried down the stairs, cast a glance at the cop out cold, and then threw herself into his arms. “Oh God, I’m so glad you’re okay. You shouldn’t have gone after him.”

Tyson pressed a kiss against her forehead, then leaned back to look her over.

“Did he hurt you?”

Her hand fluttered to her neck where he could see red marks that would doubtless turn to bruises.

“Damn it, sweetheart,” he muttered fiercely and pulled her against him. “I’m so sorry.”

“I wonder how he found us.”

“Probably called every hotel in town until he found one of our names. Before I knew about him, I called Chicago P.D. to let them know I had you in custody.” He shook his head, angry both with himself and the situation as a whole. “I thought we were being safe checking in tonight under Megan’s name, but the asshole must’ve figured out who your attorney was too. And when a cop calls a hotel, most of the time they give out info.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” she whispered, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist.

He moved his hand over her back, reassuring himself that
she
was okay. That she was here. A chill slid down his spine and a sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.

He’d been in the bathroom when that bastard had come in. What if she’d been seriously hurt? What if the dirty cop had just decided to put a bullet in her head?

His stomach rolled and he closed his eyes briefly.

Another door slammed and the hotel security rushed up the stairs, saving him from the tormenting
what ifs
. He set Ellie aside gently and went to meet them.

The cold wood of the bench pushed against Ellie’s thighs. She suppressed a shiver and listened, her head cocked, to the defense grilling the current witness behind the closed door of the courtroom.

She was next.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” Megan said, checking her watch. “They’re running behind.”

The clicking of her heels sounded on the linoleum floor as she disappeared around the corner.

“You doing all right, Ellie?” Tyson asked, ceasing his pacing of the hallway to come sit next to her. “Do you still feel sick?”

“No. I feel…nothing. I think I’m numb.” She sighed and slid her hand into his. “I just want this to be done with.”

He squeezed his fingers around hers reassuringly. “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

She glanced at his other hand, his sprained wrist bandaged after his fall. “How’s your hand?”

“Fine. Don’t even notice it with a few pain killers.”

“Good.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I’ll have testify against Officer Maliano, too, huh?”

“Not for a few months, I’m sure. Don’t think about that now. Besides, at least the jerk is in jail now.”

“What if there’s more like him?” she asked, voicing the fears that she’d tried to snuff out. “More people who were working for James?”

“Law enforcement doesn’t look fondly on a cop who goes dirty, Ellie. Trust me. If there are more, they’re trying to find them right now. And you can bet your money that Officer Maliano is not enjoying his time behind bars.”

She nodded, suddenly wanting to drop the topic. They’d been awake half the night talking to the Chicago P.D. about him, and when she had finally slept, she’d relived the moment when Officer Maliano had come into the hotel room and threatened her.

The door to the courtroom swung open and a uniformed police officer carrying a notebook—he was apparently the prosecution’s last witness—came striding out. He winked at her as he passed.

“Miss Owens?”

She glanced back to see the prosecutor, Robert Samuels, striding out of the courtroom. The thin Asian man, with whom she’d met briefly yesterday, clasped his hands in front of himself and smiled.

“You ready?”

Ellie nodded, though trying to force a smile in response wasn’t really possible. She took a step forward and then paused.

“Wait. My lawyer is—”

“Right here,” Megan called out from the end of the hall.

The prosecutor turned to look at her and Ellie noted the blatant male appreciation in his gaze before he was once again professional. It didn’t surprise her anymore, all the men who looked at Megan. She was drop-dead gorgeous.

“All right,” Mr. Samuels said, turning to face Ellie again. “Why don’t we head in?”

Ellie nodded and followed him, reassured knowing Tyson and Megan were right behind her. She walked to the witness stand, felt every pair of eyes in the courtroom on her as she took her oath.

Her focus turned to James, sitting beside the defense attorney, and for a moment her heart seemed to stop—her whole body went cold. But then she looked beyond him and saw Tyson and Megan sitting in the first row of benches.

Tyson’s gaze locked with hers and she heard his silent words of encouragement, saw how much he supported her and the confidence he had in her.

A calmness and a quiet assurance settled over her. Yes. She
would
get through this.

She sat down in the witness chair, smiled at the jury, and waited for the questioning to begin.