Witness Undercover. Debra Cowan

information he needed.

      It had taken less than an hour to get the name of the US marshal assigned to her case. Then Griffin had gone to the field office in Colorado Springs to speak with Floyd Yates and read Laura’s trial transcripts and a copy of her file built by the marshals.

      He demonstrated how she should stand and hold the weapon, then turned it over to her. She missed the target three times before finally hitting it. Using the markings on the paper, Laura hit center mass several times, although none in the same spot.

      He urged her to try two shots to the chest area and one to the head. That gave her a little trouble, but she kept shooting, a fierce look of concentration on her face.

      Joy had given him a picture, so Griffin had known that her niece was pretty, but up close she was...more.

      She was the kind of pretty that grew the longer you were with her. Direct blue eyes, thick straight black hair pulled back to show the fine line of her neck and jaw. A mouth that hinted at a ready smile despite the fact that her life had been ripped away from her.

      He noticed a scar on her chin. Had she gotten that from Arrico?

      She emptied her last clip into the chest area of the paper silhouette of a man’s upper body. The sharp odor of gunpowder filled the air around them.

      Griffin hit the button to mechanically bring the targets to them. After examining her shots, he smiled. “Not bad for your first try. Come down here and practice whenever you like.”

      “Do you mind giving me more instruction?”

      “Not at all.”

      “Thanks.” She studied her handiwork with pursed lips. “Hopefully, I won’t need to defend myself.”

      Her words reminded Griffin that as long as she was out of WitSec, she was vulnerable. And his responsibility.

      A beep on his cell phone alerted him to a text message from Sydney. “Your aunt should be here soon.”

      They walked up the hallway, their shoulders brushing. They reached the vault door and Griffin moved out into the computer room. When she didn’t immediately follow, he glanced over his shoulder. And froze.

      She had stopped in front of the picture.

      Taped to the wall was a photograph of him with his team. The four of them were on the beach at Coronado in board shorts, the sun setting behind them. They’d just returned from jump school and had gone to the beach to relax. He’d been so distracted by his protectee that he’d hadn’t thought about the picture being there.

      Her blue gaze met his. “These must be your teammates.”

      “Yes.” He didn’t try to temper the coldness in his voice.

      “You all look like such close friends.”

      “Yes.” He wanted to shut her down.

      “I guess you can’t talk about them. For security reasons?”

      “Right.” He couldn’t talk about them, but that wasn’t why.

      She frowned, probably wondering why he couldn’t seem to manage more than one-word answers. Now she would ask questions. Questions he didn’t want asked and wouldn’t answer. He hated the whole idea of it. It would remind him that they were all gone. Dead. Because of him.

      The security buzzer sounded, signaling that someone was on the property. A quick glance at the closest monitor showed Sydney’s gray SUV coming up the winding gravel drive toward the house. “Looks like Joy is here.”

      “Oh, good.” Laura moved to stand in front of him, close enough that a strand of her hair caught on his gray T-shirt.

      He saw curiosity and a brief flash of pity in her eyes, just long enough to make him stiffen. Then it was gone.

      “I’m sorry.” She gestured toward the picture. “For whatever happened.”

      She squeezed his forearm, then walked out. His chest hurt from her words. It was clear that she knew his friends were dead, but he saw no reason to confirm it. How could she know that? Maybe it wasn’t hard to figure out, but it made him feel as if she were in his head.

      The realization made him want to bolt. He didn’t do personal, not after what had happened in Afghanistan. And not after what had happened once he’d returned home to Emily.

      If Laura had been any other client, he would have passed her off to Boone or Sydney, but because of his friendship with Joy, he couldn’t.

      He glanced back at the photo of him, Ace, Davy and J.J. His jaw tensed.

      Griffin didn’t want to be responsible for Laura Prentiss aka Parker, but he was. He wouldn’t fail her the way he’d failed his teammates.

      * * *

      Last night at Griffin’s had gone better than Laura had expected. She’d been comfortable and somewhat relaxed, but after what had happened at the hospital, she couldn’t shake the fear that Vin had found her.

      Though Griffin had stayed nearby, he hadn’t crowded her. And for the first time since Laura and her father had their falling-out three years ago, she hadn’t felt alone. Even with Vin, it had often seemed as if she were all by herself.

      This morning she was still thinking about Griffin’s reaction to her seeing the photo of him with his friends. The tortured look in his eyes had troubled her. It had been obvious something awful had happened. She didn’t really blame him for not wanting to talk about it.

      It wasn’t her business. In another week, she would be gone and she would likely never see him again. Still, she’d wanted to know about the photo. And him.

      Though she had tried not to dwell on his reaction, she wondered about it. Wondered about a lot of things. He knew a lot about her. She knew next to nothing about him. Except that she was finding it hard not to like him.

      Sydney had arrived for Joy, assuring Laura they would meet her at the hospital. The brunette had an ease about her that made her easy to believe. Laura and Griffin had left soon after.

      Now she and her bodyguard hurried across the hospital parking lot and into the warmth the building provided. As they stopped in front of the elevators, Laura removed her coat. The paperwork she’d brought added a little weight to her purse.

      “So your new clothes fit okay?” Griffin asked in a deep rumble.

      She glanced down at her dark purple sweater. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be wearing the same clothes until my things arrived from Pueblo. I appreciate you stopping last night so I could buy what I needed.”

      “You’re welcome.” The barely there smile he flashed had her smiling back.

      All in all, he had gone to a lot of trouble. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting houseguests. Thank you for everything.”

      “Sure.” He looked away, as if uncomfortable with the compliment.

      No one else stepped into the elevator car and as Laura pushed the button for the seventh floor, so did Griffin. They quickly broke apart but just as it had earlier when he had entered her prints and information into his security system, the feel of his hand on hers lingered. Strong, warm, rock steady. She glanced up. “No word yet on what was in the syringe?”

      He shook his head. “I expect to hear anytime now.”

      As the bell dinged their arrival, Laura looked up at the man beside her. “I hope my—Nolan’s awake this time. After I turn in this paperwork, I want to see him.”

      As they exited, she lightly touched Griffin’s arm. “I’d like to use the restroom before we check on him.”

      “Sure. I’ll wait for you here.”

      She walked back past the elevators and down the sparsely populated hall, then pushed open the door to enter the ladies’ room. Chrome faucets gleamed against the white countertops