Page 37 of Critical Witness

Her knees buckled at the memory of Will’s lips a hairsbreadth from her own and the realization that he would never look at her with that expression again. She fumbled for support and found the bed, sitting on the very edge as not to disturb his space. She didn’t deserve to sit on his bed.

He’d claimed she was amazing. Strong. Resilient. Beautiful.

Now, he looked at her like she was something he was scraping off the bottom of his spit-shined boot.

What could she even say? “Sorry” seemed wildly inadequate.

“My name is Hannah Stone, which you obviously already know.” She stared at the place where the floor met the wall. Her voice wavered, betraying her inward plea to maintain her dignity. She wanted to throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Will Gilbert might be stoic, but he wasn’t hard to read. At least not to her. Not after the last three days.

“I’m a freelance journalist.” Will’s low growl was expected but still crushed her. “I–” She faltered and then gathered herself again. “I was at the hotel investigating the Marshand Chemical Group and the EPA.”

“Were you tipped off about the assassination?” Will’s question surprised her.

She jerked her head up. “What? No, I had no idea.” She could tell he didn’t believe her. “I didn’t even know the president was going to be there. I was sneaking around in the catering wing when someone from the Secret Service was talking loudly about clearing a path to the same room my EPA meeting was happening. I didn’t know it was going to be the president. I thought it might be the Secretary of the Interior or something, I don’t know. I just knew that if I was at the loading dock, I would be able to see who it was and get some video of them to implicate all the major players in the corruption scandal.”

Will uncrossed and crossed his arms again, shifting his weight as he stared down at her.

“I just thought it was a meeting with the EPA the Marshand Group. And then the president showed up, and I was just trying to follow a lead.”

“You could have been killed,” Will chastised.

She nodded, remembering how terrified she’d been when the bullets started flying. “I know. I had no idea what sending that video out would do. I just thought… I’m a journalist right? I want to expose the truth and hold people accountable. This chemical plant has a major problem since the hurricane, and they are too concerned about their bottom line to do anything about it. Gina can’t even give her kids a bath in their own home,” she said, her voice cracking and betraying her anger and frustration with the injustice. “I might just be some two-bit online reporter, but if I’m the only one willing to tell their story, then that’s what I have to do.”

“So then why sell the video? Why lie to me about it?”

She threw her hands in the air. “You saw my life,” she said with a scornful laugh. “What was I supposed to do? I’m broke. I’m working all I can at a job that pays pennies. I’ve got mountains of debt myloving mothertook out in my name, and not a single soul who cares at all if I live or die!” By the final words, she was sobbing.

She pressed her hands to her face, willing the flow of tears to stop, sucking in deep swallows of air to counteract the crushing feeling in her chest.

“Why did you lie to me?” Will’s voice was still icy and detached, a far cry from the tenderness of before.

It took her a few moments before she could speak again. She shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she said, when her tears had subsided enough.

“Not good enough,” he fired back instantly.

“I. Don’t. Know.” She punctuated each word. “You came to the coffee shop and blew up all my hopes and dreams of making it big. Then the coffee shop literally blew up. By the time we were safe in the motel and I thought about telling you about the misunderstanding with my identity, your disdain of reporters was quite well-established. I just figured I could hang on for a few more days while you caught the bad guy, and then I’d have one heck of an exclusive to sell to get myself on my feet. I didn’t like lying to you, Will! Especially as things… changed,” she finished lamely.

How could she explain how deeply her feelings had developed in such a short time? He wouldn’t believe how much it had tortured her every time he called her Melanie with concern or kindness.

She looked up at him as the silence dragged on. His expression was blank, the lines on his face tight and drawn as he stared at her hands.

“You should have told me,” he said finally.

“I know that, I do. And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. I never meant to hurt you.”

He pressed his lips together. “We’re here until we get our killer. Do whatever you want, but stay out of my way. Then, I’m leaving. You’ll have to deal with Homeland about what gets redacted from your story. I hope it does everything you need it to do.” With that, he walked out of the room and left her there, sitting on the edge of his bed as more tears escaped. She’d have thought there weren’t any left, but somehow, his complete dismissal of her was enough to bring more to the surface.

She swallowed thickly, her head aching from the tears and the stress. He hadn’t kicked her to the curb to fend for herself. He hadn’t said she couldn’t write the story. In fact, he’d basically given her permission to be Hannah Stone, journalist as they tried to capture the first presidential assassin in sixty years. It was everything she wanted.

So why did she feel like she’d just lost everything?

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

Tellingthe rest of the team about Hannah’s true identity had gone about as expected. Tank was quiet, but Will had the suspicion he wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed. Tank didn’t let people in easily, and Hannah had managed to sneak past his defenses, too.

Pierce just brushed it off, irritated that they had a reporter along for the ride.

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