Material Witness (4 page)

“I told you the truth. I never laid
eyes on that man until tonight. I don't know anything about this Ritchie
Trumbella.”

“You were awfully interested in him
when he walked through the door. I saw you…watching him.”

“I was watching a lot of people. You
even. It's just research. Actually, character sketches. He is…was quite an
interesting character, don't you think?”

Jake blinked hard and shook his head.

“The way you behaved in the bar…you
have some experience.”

“I'm not a prostitute,” she said
quickly.

“No kidding. That much I figured out
in about five seconds. But you knew all about the gun you saw. And the car. You
described it all in perfect detail.”

“It's what I do for a living. Well,
not actually what I do, but what I know. I've studied all about crime. I
research different bits of criminal activity, and then I replay different
situations in my mind to use in my books. When the gunfire broke out tonight, I
acted on pure instinct. I don't know what happened or where it came from. I'm
not usually like that.”

Jake's expression changed, becoming
darker and more intense. “You pulled me to the floor before the gunfire broke
out.”

“When you moved, I had a clear view
out the window. I saw the car slow down just outside. That man, Ritchie, had
his back turned. Everyone was talking, laughing, not paying any attention to
what was happening outside.”

“And then?”

“It just felt strange to me. Like
when you know something is going to happen but you have no way of really
knowing for sure. I saw the car window being rolled down and the gleam of what
I thought looked like a gun coming out of the window. Like I said, it was pure
instinct. Call it an overactive imagination if you want. I've been accused of
that all my life. For once, I didn't stop to think before acting.”

“Well, I have to say I'm glad.”
Jake's eyes bore into her. “You saved my life tonight.”

Gratitude
. It looked uncomfortable on his
face. Jake Santos was probably used to being on the receiving end of thanks for
getting someone out of a tight jam.

“You're welcome.”

He smacked his hands on his
denim-clad thigh, giving her a razor sharp look as he stood. “But you had no
business being at that bar tonight.”

“Hey, it's a free country. At least,
it was the last time I voted. Rory's is a public place.”

“Rory’s is the pit of the universe.
If you’d done enough research, you would have known enough not to go there at
all, especially the way you're dressed.”

“What's with the Neanderthal attitude
all of the sudden? Who saved your life? Or did you already forget?”

“I'm a trained police officer. I’m
trained for situations like this.”

“And I was—”

“I know, doing research.”

Irritation rose up in Cassie. She was
tired; her toes were cramped from being in foot-deforming heels all night. The
last thing she needed was a lecture from some Lone Ranger cop. All she wanted
now was to get back to her safe apartment in the nice section of town, peel off
her dress and slip into her favorite flannels. She'd be doing just that if it
didn't mean she'd have to give Jake his jacket back.

“The night could have easily ended
different. Your body could be sitting in a freezer downtown with the rest of
them.”

Jake's eyes more than his words
struck Cassie hard this time. There was something that resembled fear there, as
if her getting seriously injured or killed in that gunfire somehow shook him.

Warmth spread from the center of her
chest outward just thinking about it. Men like Jake didn't see the best of the
world. They were as rough around the edges as a man could be.

Cassie had always played it safe in
her life. It was probably why she'd never married. Most likely why she hadn't
allowed any of the dates she'd had in the last three years to go beyond a mere
sweet kiss goodnight at the door. It was definitely why she didn't write
romance novels. How could she write about something she'd never been any good
at?

Thoughts of what she could experience
with a man like Jake Santos made her heart race and caused little rivulets of
sweat to trickle down the valley of her chest beneath her dress. She pictured
him as a lover, holding her in those strong arms, turning her inside out with
passion only a man like Jake could unearth.

“I'm fine. Really,” she said softly.

He nodded, his blue eyes locking with
hers. When was the last time a man's gaze held such intensity for her? She
couldn't remember.

“Are you up to looking at a few
photos?”

She nodded and Jake tossed a few mug
shots to the metal desk.

Her eyes grazed the small pictures and
immediately zeroed in on one. Her heart pumped furiously. There he was staring
up at her from a two-by-two snap shot. Pointing to the picture, Cassie said,
“This is him. The gunman.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, it's him.” She'd never forget
that face.

“What about the driver of the car?”
Jake asked. “Do you remember what he looked like?”

Cassie thought about it a moment, and
then shook her head. “It all happened too fast. My mind fixated on the gun and
the face of the shooter…” She pointed to the picture Jake had just shown her.
“Do you have him in custody yet?”

“No, but we're working on it. Between
your description of the car and you IDing the gunman from a picture in our
files, we shouldn't have any trouble nailing him.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Angel Fagnelio. I was
supposed to meet him at Rory's tonight, but he was a no-show. Now I know why.
He'd been dealing with Ritchie, was going to cut me in on it. But the talk on
the street is that Ritchie double-crossed him. We haven't figured out the whole
story yet. We were lucky this time. You're very observant.”

“That's my job,” she said, feeling
warmth fill her cheeks with his compliment.

“Anyway, now that you've given a
positive ID we can put out an APB on Fagnelio and bring him in.”

“What if he finds out I identified
him? What if he sends someone after me?”

“Your name isn't being released. As
long as you stay put for a few days until we bring him in and get the rest of
the information we need for the DA to bring him to trial, you won't have
anything to worry about. We might even get lucky and gather enough information
so you won't have to testify.”

“When can I go home?”

“Now, if you'd like. I'll drive you.”

Cassie shook her head. “That won't be
necessary.”

She glanced at the big numbered clock
on the far wall. It said three-thirty.
Perfect dream time
. “May I use
your phone? The other officer at the scene took my purse with my cell phone in
it.”

A quick ride to her apartment would
have been wonderful. But Jake Santos was probably as eager to get back to his
own life as she was to get home to hers.

“Dial 9 for an outside line. I’ll get
your bag.” Jake pulled the phone on his desk closer to her before lumbering
away toward the coffee machine. He hadn't finished his coffee, so Cassie
assumed it was to give her a modicum of privacy.

As she punched in Maureen's telephone
number from memory, a little devilish grin pulled at her tired cheeks. She
waited three rings before someone picked up.

“Hello?”

“Are you awake?” Cassie asked evenly,
trying to keep what little dignity she had left by not out and out blasting
Maureen in front of the entire precinct. “It's me.”

“Me, who?”

Cassie ground her teeth. “Cassie
Lang, a.k.a. Cassie Alvarez, a.k.a. woman of the night? You know, the one sent
out into bedlam—”

“Cassie. Okay, okay.”

There was mumbling in the background.
Cassie recognized a man's voice and guessed that Maureen's boyfriend had spent
the night. Interrupting a romantic interlude gave Cassie none of the
satisfaction she'd craved earlier.

“Why are you calling at this unbelievable
hour?”

“I'm at the police station.”

“Oh. My. God!” Maureen's voice was
now crystal clear and she was fully awake.
Let the guilt begin.
“You got
yourself arrested? You were only supposed to take notes.”

“Arrested? Are you insane? How about
shot at and dragged across a glass-laden barroom in a dress that couldn't warm
a cantaloupe.”

Maureen's high-pitched gasp distorted
the connection. “Shot? Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.” Cassie blew out a
frustrated breath. She was too tired to lay on a guilt trip, no matter how much
Maureen deserved it. Her energy was completely depleted and Maureen's sudden
concern poured enough water on her flames to cool her down. “I'm just tired,
and I want to go home.”

She looked up just as Jake was
approaching. He'd offered to drive her home. If she didn’t take it, she’d have
to wait for a cab. He had to go home, too.

“Are you okay, I mean, really?”
Maureen said, cutting into her thoughts. “Adam and I will pick you up and bring
you over here tonight. You probably don't want to be alone.”

“I'm fine. It’ll be dawn by the time
you get here. I just didn't want you to hear about the shooting from someone
else or read about it in the morning papers.”

It was a lie. Jake assured Cassie her
name wouldn't be used in the papers. Even if Maureen remembered Rory's was one
of the bars she'd suggested Cassie go to, she wasn't likely to put two and two
together. But Cassie was no good at delivering guilt trips. She could murder
all she wanted in her dreams and on paper, but in reality, she was a softy.

“I'll see you in a few days,” Cassie
said before she hung up the phone. For a split second, she wished she hadn't
refused Maureen's offer to stay at her apartment tonight. She really didn't
like the idea of being alone.

As if he'd timed it that way, Jake
sat down on the edge of his desk just as she placed the phone in the cradle. He
handed Cassie her purse.

“All set?”

Cassie peered up at Jake, into slate
blue eyes that seemed to burn with fire and ice at the same time. “Is that
offer for a ride still good?”

 * * *

The streets appeared colder and
particularly lonely as his sports car ate up the pavement toward Cassie's
apartment. Every once in a while, he’d glance at her as they passed under a
glowing streetlamp.

She'd pulled her dark hair down from
the upswept style she'd been wearing all night. Chocolate curls framed her face
and covered her shoulders, blending into one with the color of his leather
jacket. It made her look even more vulnerable than she had appeared earlier.

What they'd gone through tonight was
enough to send most people over the edge. Or at least in search of a bottle of
Jack Daniel's to help them forget. Instead, Jake’s mind wandered to elicit
thoughts of a woman who was sweet enough to rival sugar cane. He wasn’t about
to give in to his sweet tooth no matter how much of a shock to his system
tonight had been.

“What you said at the bar, about not
being married, is that true?” she asked.

As they passed under another
streetlamp, the light illuminated her face and then left it dim. The image of
her lips remained in his mind until the next streetlamp grew near.

“Yes, it's true.”

She nodded and looked out the window
away from him. “Oh.”

A moment passed in silence.

“Why do you ask?”

“I thought maybe it was a line you
used when you were undercover.”

She didn't elaborate further. Had she
been thinking about him all this time? Wondering? Jake didn't know if he liked
the implications of why. He knew he’d been doing a whole lot of thinking and
wondering about Cassie Alvarez and how all those names rolled into one woman.

He drew in a deep breath of air,
feeling a slight tremble in his hand as it gripped the steering wheel. He
didn't want to know anything more about Cassie Alvarez, or any of her aliases,
than he had to know. All his years on the force filled him with the gut
instinct that he should just drop her on the curb, make sure she got into her
apartment building and then drive away without looking back. After this case
was wrapped up, he’d do exactly that.

“What about you?” he asked, going
against his reasoning. “Ever been married?”

“Almost, once.”

He squashed the sudden protective
feeling that swept through him. The birthdate on her driver’s license showed
she was twenty-nine years old, a good six years younger than him. No matter how
innocent Cassie appeared to be, she probably had relationships in her past just
as he had. He just wished the image of her with another man didn't feel like a
kick in the gut.

“Did you grow up here?”

A grin tugged at his lips as he stole
a quick glance at her. “Still researching?”