Reluctant Witness

Even though he knew McCann and his team would leave no stone unturned, he had to talk to Kerri. Maybe she’d seen something—seen someone. Then again, maybe she hadn’t. No matter. If she knew anything at all, Wade had to know.

He and Kerri Nelson were about to have their first reunion after three long years.

Whether she wanted to, or not.

Chapter Two

Kerri sipped on her hot tea and glanced out the window. The heavy rumble of fire trucks had ceased and the late afternoon sun had begun to slip behind the trees, casting long shadows across the sandy yard out front.

A pair of detectives had come and gone, wanting to know if she’d seen or heard anything over at Pine Ridge. She’d lied to their faces and maintained a calm composure. Matter of fact, the ease of lying had surprised her.

She’d never thought herself capable, at least not to two police officers, yet she’d had no problem telling them that yes, she’d heard the explosions and sirens, but that no, she hadn’t seen a thing. She’d gone on to explain her son had been in his bedroom all day, terribly ill with chicken pox.

She was no fool. Neither of the officers so much as asked to speak with Tom, taking her word as gospel and probably wanting to avoid the boy’s alleged germs more than they wanted to question him.

The deception had been easy, and when the whisper of guilt flared inside her, she batted it away. Nothing she or Tom had seen would make a difference.

Except the man who ran away, her conscience whispered.

She frowned as a hunter green pickup pulled into the drive, easing down the private lane and coming to a stop next to her SUV. When the driver emerged from behind the tinted glass her breath caught. She lowered her cup to the windowsill, afraid she might spill its contents.

“Tommy,” she called out to her son, now happily glued to a television video game. “I need you to run back upstairs for a bit.”

“Aw, Mom.”

Normally, her son’s whine would have set her teeth on edge, but her only concern now was keeping him as far from Wade as possible.

She stepped away from the window just as Wade began his walk across her slate stepping stones, leisurely making his way past her carefully manicured flower beds.

Kerri hurried into the center hall, crossed to the television and pushed off the power button. Tom’s eyes grew huge, then morphed into narrowed slits.

She jerked her thumb toward the stairs. “Quickly,” she whispered, just as Wade’s knock sounded at the front door.

She waited until Tommy had cleared the top step before she put her hand on the doorknob, drawing in a deep, steadying breath.

“Who is it?”

“You know perfectly well who it is,” Wade answered. “I saw you looking out the window.”

Damn the man.

Kerri jerked the door open, three years worth of pent-up anger boiling inside her. “You’re not welcome here.”

Wade’s dark eyebrows lifted, but his stare never left her face. She fought the urge to shift her weight from one foot to the other, an effect he’d had on her since the day they’d first met.

The tanned skin around his eyes held more creases than she remembered, and his rich, brown hair showed the slightest glimmer of gray at his temples. The subtle signs of age had made him more handsome than ever.

She shook off the thought and reminded herself of his role in John’s death. The memory effectively smothered any lingering fondness she felt for the man.

“What?” she asked, hoping her sharp tone would leave no doubt he wasn’t getting across the threshold.

As if reading her mind, he lifted one workboot to the sill. Kerri dropped her focus to his foot, then narrowed the opening of the door.

When she returned her attention to his face, his expression had shifted from warm to intense.

“Did you hear about the fire?”

“Hard not to,” she answered. “I’ve already spoken to the police. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“I saw you.” The dark eyebrows lifted again, and the line of his jaw grew sharp.

Kerri blinked, but fought to keep any additional reaction out of her features. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Wade nodded. “You saw me and you ran, didn’t you?”

She made a snapping noise with her mouth and shook her head, unable to force a suitable response out of her brain.

“In the woods.” Wade leaned so close his warm breath brushed her face. “Behind the houses. I saw you run away.”

“Uncle Wade?”

Tom’s voice cut through their standoff, and Kerri stiffened. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath.

Footsteps pounded down the staircase, and Tom squeezed between her and the door frame, launching himself at Wade.

The man pulled her son into an embrace, all signs of confrontation disappearing from his face as he beamed at the child.

“Who’s this?” He ruffled her son’s hair. “And what did you do with that little squirt who used to beat me in basketball?”

Tom laughed, and Kerri caught herself smiling. Her son’s laughter had become a rare commodity since his father’s death. The sound never failed to bring a smile to her lips, even if the cause was Wade Sorenson.

“You might as well come in,” she said, pulling the door open wide.

Wade released Tom and followed the boy inside. “You look good, Red,” he whispered in Kerri’s ear as he brushed past her shoulder.

Kerri shot him a glare as she closed the door. If the man thought the use of her old nickname would warm her feelings toward him, he had another thing coming.

It would be a cold day in hell before she willingly welcomed Wade Sorenson back into either her heart or her home.

WADE HAD NEVER SEEN such fury in the blue depths of Kerri’s eyes. Not even in the days following John’s death. Back then, her eyes had been full of pain and grief.

He hadn’t seen her since they’d buried John—and their friendship—but it was apparent the years had replaced her grief with a hard-edged anger.

There’d been a time once—many years earlier—when Wade thought what he felt for Kerri went far deeper than friendship, but his best friend had beat him to the punch, asking out the fiery redhead before Wade could muster the courage to do the same.

He’d watched John and Kerri fall in love, marry, give birth to Tom. He’d watched them struggle through marital difficulties, financial stress and parenting. And he’d watched Kerri bury her husband, watched Tom say goodbye to his father.

Wade drew in a deep breath and held it, bolstering his resolve. He might not have been prepared for the magnitude of the anger in Kerri’s once warm blue eyes, but he could handle it.

He intended to get to the bottom of what had happened today, and if he had to use Kerri and Tom to gain that information, so be it.

Tom slid into a chair at the kitchen table and Wade mirrored his movement. Without asking, Kerri poured them each a glass of milk then placed a sleeve of cookies in the middle of the table.

The familiar action enveloped Wade in a wave of memories, and for the briefest of moments, the past three years slid away, carrying him to the happy time before the accident. Before John’s death.

The reason for his visit brought him crashing back to the present.

“So have you seen my new site?” he asked Tom.

Kerri shot him an angry glare as she dropped into the chair directly across from him.

Tom nodded. “It’s great for skateboarding.”

Wade hesitated for a moment. The new curbs hadn’t gone in until earlier this week. If Tom had tried them out, he’d been to the site recently.

“So he’s heard.” Kerri spoke before Wade had a chance to ask Tom the obvious question. “He’s forbidden from going to the site,” she continued. “We’re well aware of how dangerous construction sites can be.”

Wade winced, then felt like hell as Tommy dropped his chin, lowering his gaze to his lap.

“So, you’ve never been there?” He directed the question at Tom, willing Kerri to keep her mouth shut.

“I just told—”

“I’m asking Tom,” he interrupted her, his tone growing sharp. Too sharp.

Kerri scraped her chair back against the hardwood kitchen floor. “I think you’d better go.”

“You know a man was critically injured there today, Tom. If you saw anything at all, you should tell the police.”

He watched as the boy frowned, feeling like a bully for pressuring the kid, but growing desperate to get the admission he thought Tom might be withholding.

Suddenly, Tom lifted his gaze to Wade’s, his blue eyes far too serious for someone so young.

“The guy in the truck?”

“Tommy,” Kerri admonished.

Wade nodded. “Yeah, the guy in the truck. Did you see anybody else?”

Tom looked nervously from Wade to his mother and back.

“He’s not getting involved, Wade.” Kerri’s voice shook with emotion. “I won’t let him.”

Wade pushed back, standing toe to toe with Kerri. He gripped her elbows, holding her near. “If he saw something, he’s our only witness, Kerri. No one else was there. We can stop whoever did this.”

She visibly softened, and Wade thought she was a breath away from agreeing, when the emotional shutters returned to her stubborn gaze.

“No,” she said flatly. “You’re on your own.”

Disappointment and anger battled inside him. “If you’re afraid of retaliation, no one but the investigators on the case need to know. We’ll keep it out of the media.”

Fear shimmered in Kerri’s eyes. So he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Haven’t you brought us enough heartache?” She pulled free of his grip and moved toward her son. “Tom, honey, tell your Uncle Wade goodbye. You need to get cleaned up for dinner.”

Disappointment flashed in Tom’s eyes, but he did as he was told. After he’d moved out of earshot, Kerri spoke again.

“Your insurance will cover your loss, right? Leave my son out of this.”

“Is this what you want to teach him, Red? You want to teach him not to cooperate instead of trying to make a difference.”

Color flared in her cheeks. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

She might as well have slapped him.

Without another word, Kerri moved from the kitchen to the hallway to the front door, jerking the heavy wooden door open.

“We never had this conversation. If you care at all about Thomas and me, you’ll walk out of this door and you won’t come back.”

“Why did you go to the site? You know what he saw, don’t you?”

“He didn’t see anything, Wade. He dropped his skateboard and ran when the fires started. I went back for his board.” She slowly shook her head from side to side. “That’s all. You need to leave us alone.”

There was no denying the fury in Kerri’s voice, but Wade spotted more than anger in her eyes. He’d known the woman long enough to know she was bluffing.

“You’re lying.”

She bristled, but stepped nearer, so near Wade could pick up the soft scent of her soap.

“I will not let you drag my son into this. Is that understood? He saw nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’d never let anything happen to him. Why won’t you trust me?”

One of her auburn eyebrows lifted, as if she couldn’t believe he’d asked the question. “Get out of my house.”

“The police think Project Liberation did this, but they need a witness.”

“Leave.”

Wade stepped out onto the front step, tensing as the door slammed behind him. He’d give her this round, but if she thought she’d won the battle, Kerri Nelson was in for a rude awakening.

IS THIS WHAT you want to teach him?

Wade’s words echoed through Kerri’s brain as she cracked open the top of her jewelry box later that night. The polished amethyst heart lay safely beneath the box’s velvet tray, still tucked into its pink drawstring bag, even after all of this time.

There had been moments over the years when she’d wondered if she’d married the right friend. Her school-girl crush had been on Wade, yet it had been John who had pursued her and married her.

Wade had never fought for her, never expressed an interest in her. She traced a finger across the smooth, cool stone. Except for this. He’d given her this on Valentine’s Day, just hours before John had asked her out for the first time.

She returned the stone to its bag, drew the satin ribbon tight and dropped it into the jewelry box, replacing the tray and closing the lid shut with a snap.

It didn’t matter now whether or not she had once cared for Wade. John had given her a son she loved more than life itself, a son so much like his father, her breath sometimes caught at the mere sight of his crooked smile.

She’d trusted Wade Sorenson years ago, and then he’d let her down, betraying her trust and her friendship.

Now he wanted her to trust him again—with Tom’s safety.

As Kerri clicked off her bedroom light and stared out the window into the Pinelands, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to trust Wade again. But one thing was certain.

She’d do whatever it took to protect her son. No matter the cost.

Hours later, after a sleepless night, she groaned at Tom’s words at breakfast.

“I want to help, Mom.”

Kerri looked up from the skillet and glared at her son. “No.”

“But Uncle Wade said I’m the only witness.”

And once the police knew that, chances were whoever set the explosions would know that, too. Kerri wasn’t naive enough to think the local law enforcement officers could keep that news quiet.

“They can do this without you, trust me.”

Defeat overtook the determined expression on her son’s face, and for a moment, Kerri thought about cooperating with the police. Was she wrong to encourage her son not to care? Not to help?

According to Wade Sorenson she was, but Wade had his own agenda, didn’t he? After all, his reputation had taken a hit after her husband’s accident. Surely this incident—domestic terrorism or not—wouldn’t do a thing to help that reputation along. The quicker they got the investigation resolved, the better it would be for Wade.

Well, she wasn’t worried about Wade. She was worried about Tom. Anyone who was capable of the crime her son had witnessed, was no doubt capable of far worse if it meant keeping the lone witness quiet.

When the phone rang, she answered without waiting for the caller ID readout. Her stomach tightened at the sound of Wade’s voice.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” she lied. “You?”

“Not a wink.”

Silence stretched across the line, and Kerri held her tongue.

“Have you made your decision?” he asked.

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night.”

She waited for his response as a fresh silence beat between them.

“The township inspector died this morning.”

Kerri’s breath caught, and she leaned against the kitchen counter.

“We’re talking about murder now.” Wade spoke with an intensity she’d never before heard in his voice. “Murder, Kerri. In your backyard.”

“On your construction site,” she shot back.

“He left three kids.”

Wade’s words sucked the air from her lungs, sending her memory racing back to the moment she’d found out John was dead. She would never wish that horrific reality on another wife, on another child.

“Don’t they deserve to find out who did this?” Wade asked softly.

“Yes.” Kerri’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“What?”

“Yes,” she repeated. “You heard me. What guarantee do I have that Tom’s identity will be protected?”

At the breakfast table, Tom straightened, excitement shimmering in his eyes. He was too young to know there was a huge difference between what he read in his detective novels and real life.

“You have my word,” Wade said.

Kerri resisted the urge to tell him his word was worthless in her book. Tom didn’t need to hear that. The kid still worshipped Wade like the hero they all once thought he was.

“The police can come to us,” she said.

“Can’t do it. You’ve got to come in. I’ll pick you up and we can use the back entrance.”

“I can drive myself, thanks. Just tell me where to go.” She glanced at the hand-painted clock on the wall over the sink. “We’ll be there in an hour.”

The sooner they got this over with, the better. Once Tom made his ID—or not—they could return to life as normal, and Wade Sorenson could fade back into their past, where he belonged.

Chapter Three

Wade stood quietly, observing the police sketch artist as he guided Tom through the process of developing a likeness of the man he’d seen. The boy’s review of suspected Project Liberation member photos had gotten them nowhere. Tom hadn’t recognized a single face as that of the man at Pine Ridge.

Kerri sat at McCann’s desk, nervously watching her son. Wade couldn’t help but notice the dark smudges beneath her eyes, nor the lines of worry across her forehead.

So much for her story about sleeping like a baby. She looked like she’d been up all night. He couldn’t blame her for the way she’d acted when he’d been at the house, for not wanting Tom to cooperate. After all, the boy was all she had left. She was smart enough to know Project Liberation was a dangerous organization.

He moved to rest a hand on her slender shoulder, but she leaned away from his touch. There had been a time when she would have leaned on Wade for support, when she had leaned on Wade for support. All that changed when Wade’s own testimony during the investigation into John’s death had directed the blame at her husband.

Maybe he should have lied to protect his friend’s memory. Maybe he should have let his company take the blame, but he hadn’t. He’d chosen the truth instead.

The doubt whispering through him was nothing new.

Wade blew out a frustrated breath and moved away from where Kerri sat, not wanting to cause her any additional discomfort. McCann caught his eye and gave him the thumbs-up. Wade stole a glance at the sketch and realized the artist was almost done. The suspect’s hair, nose and mouth—every feature—had been captured in crystal clear detail.

Tom had done an incredible job of providing the necessary descriptions.

When the sketch artist gave McCann the signal that they were through, the detective gathered Tom and Kerri and walked them briskly out of the room. Tom shot a quick glance at Wade, who winked in return, but Kerri never so much as looked his way, keeping her eyes averted as if the sight of him might turn her to stone.

He sank into the battered chair next to McCann’s desk and waited for his friend’s return. He didn’t have to sit still for long. McCann returned almost immediately, and Wade realized he must have handed off the Nelsons to someone else.

“What do you think?” he asked as McCann slipped back into his chair.

“We’ll get it out there.” McCann gripped the sketch tightly in one hand. “If this guy’s local, we’ll get him.”

“I promised the mother the kid’s name wouldn’t leak out.”

McCann nodded. “I heard you the first three times you told me. You have my word on it.”

Wade tipped his head toward a small gathering of detectives on the far side of the room. “What about their word?”

McCann scowled. “They’re pros, Wade. They aren’t going to broadcast the identity of our only witness. Relax.”

But as Wade stood amidst the ruins of Pine Ridge Estates a short while later, he couldn’t help but worry. Whoever had coordinated this devastation had also been a pro. A pro with an agenda.

How much of a risk did Tom present as a witness? The kid had obviously had a clear view of the bomber’s face. Wade could only hope the suspect hadn’t had a clear view in return.

If word of a witness got out, just how far would the bomber—hell, Project Liberation—go to keep him quiet?

The ecoterrorists prided themselves on destroying only property, not lives. But now that they’d crossed that line, now that the inspector had died, what were they capable of doing to avoid paying the penalty for murder? To avoid getting caught?

The stench of the fire hung heavy in the summer heat, and Wade silently cursed himself. Maybe he’d been wrong to involve Tom and Kerri. Maybe he should have left the investigation up to McCann and his team.

He turned away from the burned-out shells of the luxury homes, back toward his dust-covered pickup.

Kerri was wrong about being the only one responsible for Tom. Wade was responsible now, too. He might have failed John’s memory in life, but he planned to honor that memory now.

By protecting his wife and son.

KERRI BRUSHED a lock of hair from Tom’s forehead as he slept, pride welling inside her. He’d been such a little man today. Brave and confident.

He’d had one heck of a day, and the excitement had caught up to him. He’d practically fallen asleep at the dinner table, his head bobbing dangerously close to his bowl of chili.

She’d been amazed when he didn’t protest her suggestion that he get ready for bed early. She’d been even more surprised when he’d asked for his Uncle Wade as she’d tucked the covers around his shoulders.

Kerri knew Tom was hungry for male influence in his life, knew he missed his father terribly, but inviting Wade back into their lives would be a mistake.

She’d sat next to Tom’s bed until his breathing had grown even and steady, his features relaxing into peaceful sleep.

Kerri flashed back on the feel of Wade’s hand on her shoulder earlier at the police station. His brief touch had ignited an angry tangle of fury and need inside her. There were times she wanted someone to lean on, wanted someone to help her navigate life without John, but allowing Wade to be that person wasn’t an option.

He’d made his choice, and now they all had to live with the consequences.

When the phone rang, she rushed to pick up the receiver, wanting to stop the ringing before the noise woke her son.

“Hello,” she spoke into the phone.

The only sound that greeted her was silence. She glanced at the caller ID readout. Blank.

She hadn’t given the machine enough time to register the number, and she pressed the phone back to her ear.

“Is anyone there?”

The silence grew deafening, and just as she was about to hang up, the caller drew in a deep, rattling breath.

“You should have minded your own business.” The voice was deep and gruff, and chilled her to the bone. The voice was obviously male, but not that of anyone she knew.

“Who is this?” Kerri was barely able to push the words through the trepidation squeezing at her throat.

“Don’t talk to the cops again.”

The line clicked dead, and she froze momentarily, the receiver still pressed to her ear, her heart pounding in her chest.

She dropped the phone and raced back to Tom’s room, releasing a relieved breath when she spotted his sleeping form, unmoved from where she’d left him. Safe. Unharmed.

Returning to her own room, anger began to press through her fear, and she snatched the phone from the floor, dialing Wade’s number from memory.

He’d promised her—promised Tom—he’d keep their identities a secret.

He’d lied. Again.

He picked up the phone on the third ring.

“How could you do it?” Kerri heard the hysteria in her own voice and worked to calm herself before she spoke again.

“Red?” Wade sounded groggy, as if the turmoil and emotion of the past two days had caught up to him, just as it had caught up to Tom.

“They know, Wade. They know.”

“Who knows? What happened?” His voice was sharp now, alert and focused.

“I got a call. He told me not to talk to the cops again.” Tears shimmered in her vision as she spoke, and she blinked them away, willing herself to hold it together. “He said we should have minded our own business.”

“I’m calling McCann.”

“No.” Kerri’s voice boomed. “No more. Tom’s done helping you.” A tear slid down her face and she sniffed as she swiped it away.