“I understand.” I step closer. “Why don’t you give me a look? I can take your statement.”
“Thank you.” She focuses on her cell, pressing buttons until a video starts to play. “This is what happened.”
The recording is jolted, as if she were running along the sidewalk toward Luca’s Suburban which has already been hit in the middle of the intersection. Horns blare. Onlookers speak in the distance. Then there’s the unmistakable pop, pop, pop of gunfire.
People scream.
The vision lowers, the cracked cement footpath the only sight as a female swears.
“I was hiding,” she explains. “Once I heard the gunshots, I dove behind a car parked on the side of the street. I didn’t know what else to do.”
I nod, my attention glued to the screen.
The camera is raised over the hood of a red truck. Luca’s car comes back into focus. I hold my breath as Robert stalks into view, his stride long, his confidence remarkable. He shoots toward something off-screen, making onlookers scream.
“That’s when he shot the man in the car behind the Suburban,” the woman says. “Shot him dead. Just like that.” She clicks her fingers. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”
“I’m sorry you had to witness this.” I remain transfixed on the replay as Robert approaches the passenger side of Luca’s car, gun raised. He yanks open the door, drags Penny out, and shoves her down the road.
An innocent bystander steps forward, calling for him to stop. But there’s no stopping. Robert barely pauses as he raises his weapon and guns the man down.
“It was horrific,” the woman whispers. “None of us knew what to do.”
“Us?” I don’t raise my gaze from her phone.
“There was a group. About five of us. We were all in hiding, not sure if we should risk our lives to help. I feel so guilty.”
“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
Robert drags Penny toward a silver sedan parked behind the Suburban and shoves her in the trunk. Then, as easily as if he’s heading out for a leisurely Sunday drive, he climbs into the car and leaves the scene. No screech of tires. No frantic escape.
He abducted her effortlessly. Not one hint of doubt.
“As soon as he was gone, we all rushed to help those people. But the man from the sedan was already dead, and the other…” She drags in a ragged breath. “He was so scared.”
“It’s going to take you some time to come to terms with what you witnessed.” I give her a sad smile and fight against the need to get more involved in Cole’s drama.
He wouldn’t want this recording shared.
And Penny doesn’t deserve to be a news headline or a viral sensation.
“But this footage is great.” I keep smiling, attempting to exude warmth. “Do you know if anyone else recorded what happened?”
“Not that I know of. I think once the gunshots started, most people were too busy hiding. After the police arrived, everyone crowded me to get a second look.”
I nod and pull out my own device, deleting the notices of Easton’s missed messages and calls. “I’m going to need you to Bluetooth it to me. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I talk her through the transfer and wait patiently for the file to arrive, double-checking it as my stomach churns with foreboding.
I shouldn’t be getting involved.
I shouldn’t. But goddamn it, I can’t help myself.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I got your name, ma’am.” I inch closer.
“Izzy,” she offers. “Isabel Masen.”
“Thanks, Isabel.” I lower my voice. “Before I let you go, I want to make sure you know the legal risks associated with holding onto recordings of a crime such as this.” I’m bullshitting, talking completely out of my ass. All for what? Cole fucking Torian. “If someone else gets hold of this—if your phone is stolen or hacked—you could be in a lot of trouble.”
“Are you for real?” Her lips part in shock. “I thought I was helping.”
“You were. It’s the aftermath that gets tricky. You don’t want to be responsible for leaking information on an investigation as important as this.”
Why am I helping Cole? Why, Anissa? Why?
“Can I delete the video?” she begs. “I don’t want to be a part of this. I just want to go home.”
“Of course you can. I have the footage now. If you delete your copy you won’t have to worry about anyone else getting hold of it. And I have your name for future reference. But I’d like to take your cell number, too.”
“Okay.” She nods and recites the digits as she taps buttons on her screen. “It’s gone. Deleted. Do I need to go to the police station to make a statement?”
My stomach dips, the hollow organ seeming to fall to my feet. “No, you’re free to go home.”
She releases a relieved breath. “Thank you so much.”
Sickening guilt works its way through me in an increasing tide. I force myself to breathe normally. I’m going to get fired. Not only that, I could end up behind bars.
The woman pockets her cell, gives me a tired farewell smile, then leaves.
I’m so screwed.
Tampering with witnesses. Destroying evidence. Involving myself in a case that isn’t even remotely in my jurisdiction while I’m on leave.
I’m in over my head, trying to convince myself I can’t walk away because of my fear for Penny’s safety when my reasons for being here are far deeper than that.
I’m protecting Cole. Again.
Risking my career for a criminal.
I stare at my phone, the morning hours growing colder, my breath fogging in the frigid air. I should call Easton. After listening to him spit a quick verbal barrage about Cole’s reputation, I could be back on the straight and narrow… but I don’t call.
I send him a quick message instead—I’m climbing into bed. Sorry I didn’t text sooner. Night. Then I get in my car.
I should go home. For the sake of my job and my mental health, I should head directly for my apartment building. But I don’t do that either.
I drive to Cole’s restaurant. Bright lights continue to illuminate the room as I slowly inch my vehicle forward, yet all the guests are gone. There’s only a cluster of waitresses rearranging tables and a lone man with a mop pushing through the kitchen doors.
I park at the curb, the engine still running as self-hatred eats me from the inside out. I need to know if Penny has been found. If she’s okay. If she’s even still alive. I wonder about Sarah, too. Did she see a doctor? Is she recovering?
And Robert. What about him?
The reasons to call Cole mount on my shoulders.
No, they’re excuses. Placations.
Sarah isn’t my friend.
Penny is just another victim.
Robert is one of many threats I’ve earned in my career.
I just want to talk to Cole. For no other reason than to hear his voice.
I cringe through self-loathing as I pull out my cell. I sigh as I dial his number. Then I hold my breath and listen to the phone ring.
He doesn’t answer.
After two quick trills his voicemail cuts in, announcing loud and clear he rejected my call.