Hiding His Witness Read Online Free PDF Page A

knowing. No one was going to hurt her on his watch.
    “How soon do you want the sketch released?” Reilly asked the lieutenant.
    The sketch artists were cleaning up the image in preparation for a media blitz. They planned to run the guy’s face in every newspaper, every online site and every news broadcast the moment the lieutenant approved it. Even if they couldn’t identify the Vagabond Killer from the sketch or from the tip line, the attention might put pressure on the killer and force him to make a mistake. Reilly was certain he wouldn’t stop killing until they caught him. And the frequency of his murders was increasing.
    The lieutenant scrubbed a hand over his face. “The timing is terrible. Half the staff is taking leave for the holiday. Sending this picture to the media’s going to cause a freaking avalanche of insanity. We’re having enough trouble manning the tip lines without adding the crazies who think their reclusive neighbor looks somewhat like our guy.”
    Reilly stopped pacing. “You can count on me to stick around. I’ll delay my leave until this guy is caught.” His family would understand, and with the new lead and a little luck, maybe they’d close the case by the New Year.
    A tap on the door interrupted their discussion. Vanessa Blakely, Assistant D.A., strutted into the office. It was the only way to describe her walk—she strutted, and in heels that looked thin as nails. “I hear we got a witness. Normally, a 3:00 a.m. call puts me in a bad mood, but this I like.”
    He lifted his eyes from her pointy shoes to her face. “She’s with victim assistance, getting some counseling.”
    Vanessa’s eyes clouded with worry. “Is she a street rat?”
    Reilly caught the tug of annoyance at her question before he snapped at her. He was tired and hungry and Carey was not a “street rat,” Vanessa’s term for the homeless at large. “She was walking home from work.” Emphasis on the word work . He liked Vanessa. She went to bat for victims and she worked hard, but she also had a snobbish streak.
    Vanessa let out her breath. “Good, ’cause I can’t make a case and use her as a witness if she’s a loon.”
    Her comment lit a faint hint of aggravation in him. “Van, take it down a notch. She interrupted a stabbing in progress, trying to save a stranger and got herself hurt in the process. She could have kept walking. She did a great job with the sketch artist even though she’s terrified.”
    Vanessa set her hand on her hip. “She’s a regular superhero. Good to know. Juries love an everyday hero coming to the aid of a victim. Good Samaritan angle.”
    Vanessa was direct and single-minded about her cases, but she was right about Carey. With the right clothes and a little polishing, Carey would make a witness any jury would adore. If he were on that jury, he’d take one look at her expressive blue eyes, her lush mouth, and with her strength and moxie underscoring her words, he’d swallow the story, hook, line and sinker.
    “What’s the plan to release the sketch?” Vanessa asked.
    The lieutenant set his hands on top of his desk and pushed himself to his feet. He adjusted his belt around his waist. “We were just talking about that. I’m suspending leave for every cop in the city and we’ll release the sketch as soon as they have it ready. We’ll see if we can pull some volunteers to answer the tip line. The faster it gets out there, the faster we catch this guy.”
    Reilly snuffed out the last thoughts of taking a six-hour snooze in his bed. It looked like he’d have to settle for a few hours in the bunkhouse and charge up on coffee.
    “You gonna tell them or should I?” Reilly asked, glancing out into the squad room, the gold garland and red stockings they’d tossed up making a mockery of the holiday they weren’t going to have until the city was safe.
    “I’ll do my own dirty work,” the lieutenant said. He wiped his brow with his hand, taking the steps into the squad