Key Witness. Christy Barritt

the menu, but saw no names or phone numbers saved.

      “Probably untraceable.”

      Elle nodded and pulled a hair behind her ear. “I figured as much.”

      Suddenly, the phone buzzed in his hand. Elle’s eyes met his. “Is someone calling?”

      Denton noted the Unknown Caller on the screen before flipping the phone open. “Looks like a text message.”

      Elle leaned over his shoulder. “What does it say?”

      Denton’s throat felt dry as he read the words. He glanced up at Elle, trying to soften the message. It was no use. “It says, ‘I’ll find you and kill you.’”

      TWO

      Elle held a cold compress to her cheek and leaned back into the padded leather chair at the police station. All of the witnesses from the bank had been questioned separately, and Elle had poured out everything she could remember. Right now, her cheek and head throbbed, and she desperately wanted to go home, take a long bath and fall asleep.

      Sleep. She wanted a restful sleep, but knew she’d have nightmares for a long time about what had happened. The violence she’d seen today was so out of the realm of her upright—perhaps uptight—little world.

      One of the officers went to get her some water, so she stood and stretched for a moment. Were the other witnesses still here? Suddenly, the room she was in felt too small and suffocating.

      She stepped into the hallway and heard Denton’s voice in the distance. She followed the sound, for some reason finding comfort in the man’s presence. She crept down the hallway until she reached another office, this one with the door open. Denton sat across from a detective, leaning back in his chair as if exhausted. His voice still sounded steady and strong, though, as it drifted into the hallway.

      “One of the men was definitely more dominant. If I had to guess based on his speech pattern, he’s from the Northwest and most likely a blue-collar worker. He had a slight limp and, from the way he carried himself, I’d say he was in his mid- to late-twenties.” Denton spotted Elle and straightened. “Hey there.”

      She stepped into the office, lowering the compress to get a better look at Denton. “You picked up on all of that?”

      He shrugged, a hint of cockiness in the action. “I’m good at being observant.”

      “I thought I was, too, but I didn’t notice half of that.”

      The phone rang and the detective across the desk held up a finger as if to say “wait.” Elle leaned in the doorway, watching the detective’s expression change from serious to disgusted. She braced herself as he hung up and turned to them. “That was the officer I sent to the hospital. He told me that the teller just passed away. This investigation has just moved from armed robbery to homicide.”

      Elle’s heart sank. She’d hoped the EMTs had arrived in time and that everything would be okay. She sank into the chair beside Denton, suddenly light-headed.

      “She was saving to go to college, you know.” Julie’s bright, smiling face stained her memory. “She wanted to be a teacher.”

      Denton raised an eyebrow. “She told you that? Were you friends?”

      Elle shrugged. “I’ve been going into that bank every week for the past three years. You start to feel like you know each other. Her life was worth so much more than the money those men got away with.”

      “Three thousand dollars is what the bank manager calculated,” the detective said. “You can’t put a price on a life. The K-9s are trying to follow the robbers’ scent now. We’re also checking all of the surveillance video from around the area. We’re going to get the sketches and description of the men out to the media in time for the evening news, we hope. Between all of those things, I’m hopeful that we’ll get these guys.”

      Denton shifted in his seat. “I’m not so sure you’re going to catch them.” He shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Something about the entire setup is bugging me. I mean, Julie cooperated with them. She gave them all the money she could, but they still shot her. That doesn’t make sense to me. Why would they shoot her? The dominant robber didn’t even hesitate.”

      “What are you getting at?” the detective asked.

      “It was almost like they went into the bank with the intention of killing someone.” Denton shook his head. “It sounds terrible, but that’s what my gut is telling me.”

      An officer stepped into the room, his gaze focused on Elle. “Ms. Philips, your father is here to see you. I told him you were almost done, but he insisted on seeing you right away.”

      Before Elle could even stand, her father rushed into the room. Two of his men shadowed him, remaining right outside the door. “Elle, sweetheart, are you okay? I was so worried when I heard what happened.”

      She nodded and fell into his arms. “I’m fine, Dad. Just a few cuts and bruises.” She stepped back. “Dad, this is Denton—”

      “Mark Denton,” her father interrupted, a grin stretched across his face. He extended his hand and pumped it up and down. “Good to see you again.”

      “Senator Philips.”

      Elle looked back and forth between them. “You know each other?”

      Her father placed his hand on Denton’s shoulder. “Denton has worked security detail for me in the past.”

      Elle’s gaze fixated on Denton. She realized there was so much she didn’t know about the man. “Security detail?”

      A hint of a smile curled Denton’s lips. “I’m a private security contractor.”

      Elle nodded as the truth seemed to settle over her. “No wonder you handled yourself so well during the robbery.”

      Her father turned to her and nodded slowly—what Elle called his “thoughtful politician nod.” The senator added, “He’s the best, of course, because I only hire the best.”

      Denton rubbed his five o’clock shadow before resting his hands on his hips. “Your daughter called 9–1–1 when one of the robbers dropped his phone. The operator heard what was going on in the background and put a trace on the phone. The police were just two blocks away when dispatch called them. I think we’re lucky that only one life was lost today.”

      “That’s my girl. She thinks quickly on her feet, just like I raised her. She didn’t graduate at the top of her class from Yale because of luck.” Her dad’s eyes shone with pride.

      Elle had to tell her father the rest of the story. “But Dad—”

      “I know. The robber threatened you. He seemed to put it together that you were the one who found his phone. The detective filled me in when he called me.”

      The detective called him? Of course he had. Her father had connections all throughout the state—the country, for that matter. An incident involving a senator’s daughter wouldn’t be taken lightly. “I was the only one close by in the area where he’d been standing. He must have put it together.”

      “I’m used to getting threats. I don’t like it when my little girl gets them, though.” Elle could see the concern in her father’s eyes. But just hearing him call her “little” in public tore at the image she’d tried to build of herself as a self-sufficient career woman.

      “I’m not little anymore, Daddy.”

      Her father grinned. “You’ll always be little to me, no matter how old you are.”

      Denton shoved his hands down into his pockets. “The good news is that these robbers can’t be the brightest bulbs in the socket. One of them did leave his cell phone at the scene of the crime. That alone should merit an article in the ‘Stupid Criminal’ section of the news.”

      Elle