The Witch's Grave Part 18

I meandered to the center of it, pa.s.sing tourists in T-shirts snapping pictures of the Old Courthouse, mothers pushing babies in their strollers, and teenagers just hanging out. Near the pool with the statue, I sat on one of the benches and tried to relax.

It was less than a week since Stephen's shooting-and so much had happened. My head felt crowded with bits and pieces of information that lacked any kind of a connection. I didn't know how I would ever make sense of it all. I rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen some of the tension. Closing my eyes, I lifted my face to the sun as a breeze from the river stirred the air around me.

My peace lasted only a moment-I jumped when the cell phone in my pocket began to vibrate.

d.a.m.n. I flipped the phone open and answered. I flipped the phone open and answered.

"Where the h.e.l.l are you?" asked a gruff voice in my ear.

Bill.

"Um, you see..." I hedged.

Oh, get it over with, Jensen.

"I had to come to St. Louis," I blurted out.

"You've pushed me too far this time, Ophelia," Bill yelled in my ear.

Frowning, I held the phone away as he continued.

"I'm going to throw your b.u.t.t in jail. I'm going to charge you-"

"Hey," I yelled back as I moved the phone back to my ear, "you didn't tell me not to leave town."

"I didn't think it was necessary." His tone sounded scathing. "I thought you had more sense than to go traipsing off somewhere. I don't have the time to chase you down."

I watched a mother carrying an infant walk by. "I'm safe," I replied with a smug smile. "And I have some information for you."

"What?" he barked.

"Karen Burns? Remember her? Stephen's a.s.sistant-"

"Yeah, what about her?" he growled, not letting me finish.

"She was mugged and the disks to Stephen's new book were stolen."

"Were the disks in her purse?"

"Yes," I said with hesitation.

"What do most muggers take, Ophelia?" He questioned me as if I were a child.

"The purse." I spit the answer out.

"Ms. Burns lives in a city, and I take it the attack happened at night?"

"Okay, you don't have to draw me a picture," I replied, my voice grudging. "You're trying to tell me they weren't after the disks, aren't you?"

"Give the lady a free prize."

"No need to get snarky, Bill," I objected forcefully. "I think it's a big coincidence that she was mugged right after her boss was shot."

His tone softened. "Coincidences do happen."

"How's Stephen?" I asked abruptly.

"He's still in a coma."

"No change at all?"

"The doctors are a little more optimistic, but he's still in intensive care. I hear you met his mother."

"Yes, I did...a very nice lady. She believes he was the victim-someone from his past with a grudge."

"I know. I spoke with her briefly..." He paused before continuing. "There's another theory-"

"I know, I know," I cut him off. "I was the intended victim."

"No, you were right about that one," he said guardedly.

I almost dropped my phone. "What?"

"There's been a new development."

He stopped abruptly, and I could envision the debate going on inside him.

"What the h.e.l.l-you're going to hear about it when you get back," he said, making his decision. "Someone tried to a.s.sa.s.sinate Chuck Krause Thursday night. His aide was killed."

I sat forward on the bench. "Where?"

"As they were leaving campaign headquarters. A witness saw a motorcycle peel away."

"I don't get it-three shootings and no connection."

"It's not up to you to 'get it.' You're not the investigating police officer..." His voice faded. "But then again, neither am I."

"Huh?"

"Since Krause is running for office, the DCI has taken over the investigation. I guess they don't think a country sheriff is smart enough."

What a blow to his ego-getting pulled off his investigation. Now I felt guilty for all the problems I'd caused him. "You're a good cop, Bill. Even Ethan thinks so, and he's with the feds."

"Thanks, but it's not important who catches the shooter, as long as he's caught."

"So why do they think Stephen was shot?"

"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but...they think the shooter mistook him for Krause."

"How?"

"They're both blond, they were dressed similarly-"

"Oh, come on, give me a break," I huffed. "They think the a.s.sailant was just lurking in the trees, waiting for the off chance that Krause might come strolling along?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"Okay," I said, switching gears, "forget that dumb idea for a second. Why did someone shoot at me?"

"You were a witness...a loose end."

"Humph, I don't buy that at all," I exclaimed.

"I doubt the DCI's going to care whether or not you agree with them."

"Bill, I know they're wrong," I insisted.

"Well, Ophelia, unless you have proof, I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you. These boys don't strike me as the type to believe in your hocus-pocus."

"Great." My jaw clenched. "While they're pursuing their bogus theories, someone could get killed."

Like me?

"Listen, the DCI has a lot more resources than I do, and they don't make many mistakes." He sounded disgruntled. "I was told to let the big guns handle it, and I suggest you do the same." With that, he hung up on me.

I snapped my phone shut while I fought the urge to beat my head on the bench. The DCI was wrong, wrong, wrong, and I had less of a chance getting them to listen to me than I did Bill.

This development was not not good. good.

Looking to my left, I noticed that the sun had slipped lower in the sky. I decided to get back to the hotel before Abby became worried. Rising, I made my way out of the park and turned to go back the way I'd come.

Since the sun had sunk so low, the shadows between the buildings were deeper now. And no breeze penetrated the concrete canyon as I walked. Lights were coming on in the office buildings and the doors were opening as office workers left for the day. Ties askew and briefcases swinging, they looked anxious to start their weekend. Their steps were hurried and their attention was focused straight ahead as they marched by, headed in the opposite direction, toward a parking garage.

My steps slowed as I thought about my conversation with Bill. Part of me was sorry I'd ever gotten involved. I noticed a woman wearing a suit and tennis shoes rush past me, carrying her high heels and clutching a folder.

I bet she isn't worrying about someone shooting at her. No, I imagined all she cared about was having fun over the weekend. Wouldn't that be nice? No, I imagined all she cared about was having fun over the weekend. Wouldn't that be nice?

I gave my shoulders a little shake. Stop the pity party! Stop the pity party! I'd made a choice, and I needed to see it through. I'd made a choice, and I needed to see it through.

People had thinned out in this section of the city, and I found myself virtually alone on the street. Anxious for food and suddenly feeling sweaty, I increased my pace. Right now all I wanted was food and a hot shower.

I thought about my plans as I walked. What would I do when I arrived home? First-read Stephen's notes. A thought popped into my head. Would the DCI want to follow up with Bill's investigation and talk to me? I hoped not-I'd answer their questions but wouldn't volunteer any information.

Craning my head back, I peeked at the strip of sky overhead, and a sense of being closed in hit me. I took longer steps.

I heard the sound of heels clicking on the sidewalk behind me. Another office worker anxious to get home? But the parking ramp was in the other direction. I snuck a look over my shoulder, and as I did, the man behind me did a little side step, as if he didn't want me to spot him.

Strange. I upped my pace.

So did the steps in back of me.

I whirled around, and recognition slammed me. It was the man from Stephen's condo. The one I'd glimpsed leaving the elevator.

I took off at a dead run and didn't look back. From the sounds echoing off the building, I knew he followed. Suddenly, a man popped out of a doorway. I dodged him and kept running. From behind me, I heard an angry "Hey" and the sounds of scuffling, but I didn't turn.

At the end of the block, I made a sharp turn to my left. More people now, thank G.o.d. More people now, thank G.o.d. I caught their surprised looks as I sprinted past them. My side hurt and my breath came in short pants, but I was almost there. I caught their surprised looks as I sprinted past them. My side hurt and my breath came in short pants, but I was almost there.

I finally slowed my steps as I approached the hotel and peeked over my shoulder.

The man had disappeared.

Twenty-One.

With my head down, I quickly crossed the hotel lobby and entered the elevator. I felt relieved that no other guests joined me. Right now I couldn't stand the idea of a crowded elevator. I needed s.p.a.ce-and to get the h.e.l.l out of there.

Once inside my room, I hurried to the connecting door and pounded. "Abby, Abby," I hollered.

The door abruptly swung as I was about to pound on it again.

Her eyes wide, Abby's hands shot out and gripped my arms. "Ophelia, what's wrong?" she asked, alarmed.

I shook off her hands and spun around. "Come on," I said, heading toward the bathroom. "They've found us. We're getting out of here."

"Who's found us?" she called after me.

"The guy from Stephen's condo," I replied over my shoulder.

Abby followed. "Wait a minute...what man?" She sounded baffled.

"There was a man getting off the elevator on Stephen's floor as we were leaving." My words poured out. "I only caught a glimpse, but I know he's followed us here."

Yanking my carry-on out from underneath the sink, I began cramming my stuff into the deep pockets. As I did, I caught my reflection in the mirror-hair straggling around my face, my brown eyes holding a half-crazed look. I appeared afraid.

I was.

My gaze slid to Abby's reflection. She stood leaning against the door frame, frowning at me.

"Ophelia, slow down. Tell me what happened? I thought you went for a walk?"

"I did...to a park." I tossed my toothbrush in the bag. "A man followed me. Chased me."

She pushed away from the door frame. "You're positive it was the same man from the condo?"