Page 78 of I'm Watching You

The man tossed her a quick smile. ‘I hope you can help me.’

A lump formed in the pit of her stomach. ‘What do you want?’ Her tone had grown hard, losing all hint of welcome.

He set down the expensive crystal he’d been cradling. ‘My wife. Christina Braxton.’

Claire remembered the woman vividly. The bruises on her arms and neck testified to the trauma she’d suffered at the hands of her husband. Claire had sensed the fear and the goodness in Christina. It had been an easy choice to give her cash and the keys to the secondhand car. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Richard nodded almost as if he were pleased by her answer. He pulled the switchblade from his pocket and he flicked the blade open. ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t talk too quickly.’

Panic exploded inside Claire. She snatched up the phone and discovered the line was dead. She bolted to the back of the shop to the back alley exit.

Richard moved quicker than a cat. He reached her just as she made it to the door. He grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back. He drew the knife blade along her cheek, slicing flesh as he went. Pain burned her face as warm blood oozed down her cheek.

‘Where is my wife?’ he whispered against her ear.

‘I don’t know.’

Claire wasn’t going to tell him where Christina was hiding. And she knew the cost of her silence was going to be her life.

Chapter Seventeen

Tuesday, July 8, 3:20P.M.

Kendall was very pleased with herself. She and Mike had shot her evening report and it had gone better than good. Lindsay’s past made great television. This newscast was going to get Kendall noticed.

Her phone rang. Without taking her eyes off the road, she pulled the phone from her purse and flipped it open. ‘Kendall Shaw.’

‘You’re a hard woman to find.’ The deep male voice sounded smooth, confident, but she didn’t recognize it.

‘Who’s this?’

‘Detective Jacob Warwick, Henrico County Police. Your phone has been busy all morning.’

Damn. She thought about the film footage of the delivery truck at the shelter. That was the kind of information she should have shared with the cops first thing this morning. An obstruction of justice charge would not help her career.

Kendall kept her voice smooth. ‘Sorry. Running down leads on a story. What can I do for you?’

‘I’d like to chat with you about the shelter murder and review your tape from yesterday.’

She kept her voice cheerful. ‘Sure. What time works for you?’

‘Now would be nice.’

The steel behind the words left little room for argument. And she wasn’t about to piss anyone off at this point. ‘I can swing by the station and get a copy of the footage.’ No need to mention she had one at home. ‘It will take me at least a half hour to get the tape and meet you at my office.’

‘I’ll meet you at the at station office.’

Her mind turned. Maybe she could even score a quote or two from Warwick. ‘See you in a half hour.’

Kendall arrived at the television station fifteen minutes late. When she rushed into the lobby, she spotted the detective immediately. He was staring into one of the station’s trophy cases, his hands clasped behind his back. He had a relaxed way that she suspected was deceptive. ‘Detective Warwick?’

His smile didn’t reach his piercing eyes. ‘Kendall Shaw.’

Kendall crossed the lobby and accepted Warwick’s hand. His grip was powerful. ‘Good to meet you.’

‘I appreciate the help.’

‘If you will follow me, I’ll take you upstairs. I can burn a copy of that footage onto aCDfor you.’ The west wing of the Deco-style building was littered with ladders and plastic tarps. ‘Excuse our mess. We’re undergoing a huge renovation.’

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