but I’m not going to assume I can prevent it from happening.”
“Matching the application information will help me out, thanks.”
He turned on the cassette recorder and noted down date and time and witness information for the record. He’d thought about what he most needed from her, knowing the odds were still strong that this might be the only evidence they had to present to a grand jury if she disappeared on him, and made a decision. “I want you to talk through what you did and saw today from about noon on until I met up with you at your home. I want you to stop there and then tell me everything you can remember about Paula Grant and her ex. Things Paula said, the date you first met him, what you know about the situation between them.”
She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, then nodded and began. “I took my lunch break today just before 2 p.m., ate at the food court, and then returned to work.”
Luke started typing, appreciating her steady pace.
“I rearranged the ring display, helped three new customers who bought earrings, a necklace, and a ring, respectively, and wrote up two repair orders for a longtime customer. Shortly before four Jim asked me to take the day’s cash deposit to the bank; the branch office in the mall is near The Limited clothing store. I left the bank about 4:15-the time is on the deposit receipt-and walked back to the jewelry store.” She hesitated and reached for her soda. She took a long drink. “I saw him when I came around the candy display out in the center mall aisle.” She went on in the same steady voice, and Luke kept with her, not pausing to correct the typos or the punctuation.
It took her more than five minutes to get the narrative out, and when she again paused he clicked off the recorder, rose, and went to get a washcloth from the towel rack. He brought it back cold and wet.
She pressed it against her eyes.
“We can take a break before you finish.” He was leading her back through rough terrain, and he knew the cost it was taking to keep her composure. There was a brutal rawness to remembering blood and death, and that reality was only hours in her past.
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. Let me get this done. You need the words, and I’m going to be better just getting them out and having it over.”
Courage, but maybe a little too brave, he thought as she pushed back the tears and the reaction and didn’t let herself grieve. He waited until he thought she’d gotten a few deep breaths and taken at least the first steps back from the roughest memories.
He set a new section in the file, then clicked on the recorder again. “Okay.”
“I first met Paula’s ex on August ninth. I remember the date because we were taking inventory, and her ex shoved a display being put together and sent rings flying.”
Her voice was husky now, but her words were solid and flowing. Luke typed, and as the story unfolded he knew the signs of what had happened today were in the history. He wished someone in his office had put it together before the explosion.
Her words came to an end. He watched, concerned, as she twisted the cold rag around her hand and then back off, the motion just a place marker for the fact that mentally she was remembering more than what she was saying. She was feeling the events of today now as she spoke of them, really feeling them for the first time, he thought, for her emotions had been too numb for that before. They were friends who had died, and nothing he said could touch that pain.
He shut off the recorder and returned it to his briefcase. He turned back to the start of her narrative and read for content and corrections, giving her time. “Did you notice shoes?”
She blinked back at him for a moment, then nodded. “Black tennis shoes.”
Luke printed the document. Her statement ran six pages. He handed it to Amy. “Read it through, note any changes you want to make, and I’ll print a revised copy for you to sign.”
“Okay.” She started to read.
He picked up the soda she had brought him but didn’t open it. Her words had stayed steady, but there was a fine tremor in her hands making the pages flutter just a bit. Sleep was going to be hard for her in the weeks to come, her mind having to process the images enough times to wash out the emotions attached to the event.
She set the statement on the table. “It’s okay as is. Where do I sign?”
“Initial the corner of all the pages, then sign and date the last page.”
She reached for his pen.
He accepted the signed document. “I’ll have a copy for you tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” She rubbed her eyes. “Now what?”
“We get him off the streets. Tomorrow we’ll work on how to make your testimony safe for you to give.” He initialed her statement, checked his watch, and recorded the time. He looked at her and didn’t have a solution to offer that could make things better for her tonight. She would be alone with the memories of this day and her own past that she hadn’t shared yet, and that worried him in a quiet way, how very alone she was in this. “Sleep with the television on tonight and don’t set the alarm.” He repacked his briefcase.
“I’ll take that advice and also leave the Do Not Disturb sign on the door so housekeeping doesn’t come by.” She rose. “Thanks for dinner.”
“I wish it had been under different circumstances.” He hesitated but let what he wanted to say be left unsaid. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Amy.”
He wondered if she thought of that as a promise or a threat, knowing how much had not been said tonight, but she merely nodded. She followed him to the door. He waited in the hall until he heard both locks click in place.
Amanda Griffin: former army and now in her forties. That timing probably put her in at least one war. One very bad relationship in her past. He wouldn’t guess which experience she found worse. Luke dug his car keys out of his pocket. He wasn’t going to let the signs of another coming tragedy slip past him. He wasn’t even sure who would be dead in the encounter: Amanda or the guy she ran from. The lady was civilian and yet not, running scared but with purpose. She might be ducking the collision, but when it came-and it eventually would-
Luke unlocked his car. Amanda Griffin struck him as a survivor. Tomorrow he’d get the details from her or start searching them out on his own. Trouble was here. He was inclined to stand in its way.
Chapter Three
“YOU’RE FAR AWAY this morning.”
Luke turned at his sister’s touch and accepted the glass of orange juice she offered. “Yes, I suppose I am.” Breakfast was a tradition on her birthday since evening meals tended to always be interrupted, but normally he was the one fixing it. The message on his machine last night had suggested he just plan to come over if there was time or they could try for another morning. He should have suggested another morning for all the good he was today.
Susan forked out two more waffles to add to the pile. “I don’t mean to pry, but what time did you get in last night?”
“About 3 a.m.”
“It was a rough day.”
“Yes. I’ll tell you about it on a day not your birthday.” He rubbed her shoulder and reached around her for the basket of muffins. She was a small woman, his sister, largely sheltered from the job he held and what he saw, but he knew she was equal to the task of absorbing about anything when he did need to talk about one of the rougher days.
“You’ll catch the guy?”
“We’ll catch the guy.” He crossed to the stairs. “Come on down, you two. I can hear the school bus rolling this way.”
His nephew appeared first. “It’s not for another thirty minutes, Luke.”
“It might be early today. Pancakes or waffles?”
“One of each,” Jack replied, dumping his backpack by the door and coming to the table by way of the
