Witness in the Dark (Love Under Fire #1)(2)
Anthony immediately spun Sam around and wrapped his arms around her, protecting her from the sight.
But she would never be able to erase it from her mind.
Time moved both too fast and incrementally slow as the sound of sirens filled the chilly night air. Soon, hordes of police cars packed the alley, followed by an ambulance.
She could hear the rumble of Anthony’s voice talking to the responders, but she didn’t know what he said. She stared at the blue and red lights as they reflected off the wall, making everything surreal.
He left her standing with one of the officers as he ran inside a few times and then came back to check on her. She vaguely heard him tell her he had closed the restaurant and was ready to go with her to the police station. She wanted to thank him, but again, her brain was too numb to get the words out.
She’d always thought she was tough. Growing up with a mother who’d brought home a lot of disreputable men had made her that way out of survival. Sam had thought she was prepared to handle any type of situation, but she wasn’t handling anything at the moment.
A woman was dead, and Sam had done nothing to help.
Granted, it had only taken a few short moments, and Sam most likely would have become the gunman’s second victim, but nevertheless, the weight of guilt bore down on her shoulders.
The best she could do for the woman now was to help the police find the killer and bring him to justice.
“Your name and some ID?” the officer asked.
“Samantha Hutchinson.” Her voice sounded far away, and her hands fumbled while getting the ID out of her wallet. She was glad for Anthony’s help. After the cop made a few notes, he handed back her driver’s license and asked her to come with him.
With a nod, she let Anthony lead her to the police car. He was her boss, but he was also a great friend. She appreciated the warmth of his arm around her as she tried desperately to think of clues that would be helpful. Nothing came to her. It was as if a rain shower had washed away all her memories of the event that had happened only a half hour before.
She could remember drink orders and pizza toppings all night long, but at the moment, she couldn’t remember what the killer looked like. All she could recall was the size of his gun.
Anthony whispered soothing words and patted her hand the whole way, but she was numb. The night had been chilly, not overly cold, but she couldn’t stop shivering. She managed to give him her phone’s passcode so he could call her best friend Nikki. He left a message telling her, “Sam is fine, but she needs your help.”
It was a lie. Sam wasn’t fine.
Not by a longshot. She was falling apart on the inside, but was too frozen on the outside for anyone to notice. Worse, the numbness was fading and she started to feel all the things she’d been avoiding. The fear, the anger, and especially the helplessness. Her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept trying to think of something she could have done.
At the police station, she was brought into a room with dingy, green walls. She sat in a navy-blue chair in front of a metal desk and focused on her breathing. Anthony was sitting next to her, holding her hand and rubbing an irritating circle on her skin with his thumb. She wanted to pull her hand away because it was uncomfortable, but she was afraid her arm might break if she moved it. Afraid everything would break if she moved, at all.
“Ms. Hutchinson?” There was a man sitting at the desk now. She wasn’t sure if she’d missed him when she’d walked in, or if he’d just sat down. “I’m Detective Richards.”
She looked up at him and tried to focus. There was something she needed to know first. “Is she… Is that woman going to be okay?”
Deep down, Sam knew the answer already. She wasn’t an idiot. She’d seen enough movies and TV crime dramas to know when someone shot another person in the head at close range, they would never be okay.
“I’m sorry. She passed,” he told her, straightening some papers in front of him.
Passed. It sounded like he was talking about a test, or what happened on the highway when someone was going too slowly. It wasn’t the right word for being dragged out of a car and shot twice at close range.
Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes.
“Did you know her?” the detective asked.
She shook her head as Anthony squeezed her shoulders. “It’s okay, Sam,” he encouraged.
“We haven’t confirmed the victim’s ID yet, but the license in her purse was for a Heather Riddell. Does that name ring any bells?”
Sam shook her head again as Anthony said, “I didn’t recognize her, either.”
“Ms. Hutchinson, can you tell me what you saw?”
She opened her mouth to speak, to give them the information needed to put that monster away, but her throat was so dry, only scratchy whispers emerged.
“I’ll get you something to drink.” The detective abruptly rose and left the room, his movements so quick she jumped.
She jumped again when her phone rang with Nikki’s ringtone from inside Anthony’s pocket. He rushed out to the hall to take the call as the detective handed Sam a can of soda with a straw.
After she took a few sips, the detective cleared his throat. “Ms. Hutchinson?” he said, getting her attention again. “Let’s go through it slowly. Tell me what you saw.”
She nodded and began telling the story, starting with how Lance had broken up with her by text. Explaining why she was in the alley, sitting on the ground and crying, to begin with.