Protecting Lyndley Read Free Page A

of pants, and was carrying a forty-five. I know because he aimed it directly at me. I started my car to take off, but he ran as soon as a pair of headlights illuminated the parking garage. That’s all I know.”
    “Thank you for your time, Lyndley. Here’s my card. If you ever need anything at all, or remember anything else, please don’t hesitate to call. We will have someone take you to your house and explain where we go from here.”
    He started to walk away when his words finally settled into my overly exhausted, traumatized brain. “WAIT! What do you mean, where we go from here?”
    He slowly made his way back over to where I was standing next to my car. “Someone from the Marshal service will be coming by to talk to you tomorrow morning, or I guess I should say in a few hours. Have a good night, Lyndley.”
    I was left standing there, flabbergasted. I couldn’t believe what was happening, and to top it all off, the asshole detective that interviewed me was now walking away like it was no big deal. What was wrong with everybody? This was someone’s li fe that had been taken. And then it hit me; no one had called to tell Claire.
    The tears came faster now and I found myself practically hyperventilating. I crouched down, wrapping my arms around my knees and rocking back and forth. If I had learned anything over the last eight years of having panic attacks, it was to rock myself like a baby. I could hear footsteps through my erratic breathing, and I quickly turned to see who was approaching me.
    Before I could respond, Detective Dawson was scooping me up in his bulging arms. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him how much I hated him at this very moment, but all I could do was silently sob into his shoulder as my arms wrapped securely around his neck. I wasn’t sure who called him, or what happened to him, but a small part of me didn’t care at the moment. He was here and that’s what really mattered.
    I slightly lifte d my head from his shoulder so I could whisper in his ear. “Where were you?”
    His lips came down right next to my ear, “Someone knocked me out from behind. I’m so sorry, Lyndley. This never would’ve happened if I had been watching my own back.”
    I laid my head back down on his comforting shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Dawson. It was inevitable.” The next thing I remember was waking up to a strong hand gently shaking me. When I opened my sleepy eyes, Dawson’s face came into view and I was surprisingly relieved to see a familiar face.
    “Lyndley, the Marshal is going to be here any minute. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to get dressed or anything.”
    I let a halfhearted smile form across my chapped lips. “Thank you, Dawson.” He held his hand out for me to take and I did. He led me down the hall to my room and tightly closed the door behind me. Day two of the worst day of my life, here we go.

 
 
 
 
 
Four
     
     
    Ky
    The drive from the crime scene to the witness’ house was tedious and my truck was stifling, causing me to need a drink more than I ever had. So I found the closest bar and saddled up for a quick drink. I was traveling alone, which made it that much easier to get away with shit, but I knew Tom would be calling in the next hour to make sure I made it to the witness’ house, so I had to hurry.
    “What can I get ya?”
    “Whiskey and ginger, please.”
    “You got it, honey.”
    I glanced up at the waitress for a brief second, but found myself having no interest in her. She sat my drink down in front of me and gave me ‘the’ look, but I just simply passed my twenty-dollar bill to her and downed the mouth-watering drink.
    The cool liquid slid down my throat, barely leaving a burn in its wake. My mind and body instantly relaxed, and now I was ready to do my job. I finished the last sip and slid my glass towards the bartender.
    “Wait, your change.” She shouted as I began walking out.
    “Keep it.” I shouted back as I waved on my way out the doors. I