The Littlest Witness

  “I’m worried about your safety…Thea.”

  Her name on his lips sent a thrill of excitement rolling through Thea. A shiver of something she didn’t want to name eased up her backbone and made her stomach flutter in awareness. She hadn’t been attracted to a man in years. And now, at the worst possible time, with the worst possible man, Thea was feeling things she had no business feeling.

  “Why can’t you just go away and leave us alone?” she whispered.

  His gaze softened, touched her lips, and Thea trembled, clutching her daughter’s hand as if Nikki were her lifeline.

  “There’re some things about this case you may not be aware of. Have dinner with me and we’ll talk about them.”

  Thea’s heart started to pound. That she was even momentarily tempted by his invitation proved how dangerous he was to her.

  She glanced down at Nikki. Nikki looked back up at her, her expression hopeful. The fact that Nikki showed a reaction at all was a positive sign. A small miracle.

  With Nikki on his side, how on earth could Thea continue to do what she knew she must—resist John Gallagher?

  Dear Intrigue Reader,

  A brand-new year, the launch of a new millennium, a new cover look—and another exciting lineup of pulse-pounding romance and exhilarating suspense from Harlequin Intrigue!

  This month, Amanda Stevens gives new meaning to the phrase “men in uniform” with her new trilogy, GALLAGHER JUSTICE, about a family of Chicago cops. They’re tough, tender and totally to die for. Detective John Gallagher draws first blood in The Littlest Witness (#549).

  If you’ve never been Captured by a Sheikh (#550), you don’t know what you’re missing! Veteran romance novelist Jacqueline Diamond takes you on a magic carpet ride you’ll never forget, when a sheikh comes to claim his son, a baby he’s never even seen.

  Wouldn’t you just love to wake up and have the sexiest man you’ve ever seen take you and your unborn child into his protection? Well, Harlequin Intrigue author Dani Sinclair does just that when she revisits FOOLS POINT. My Baby, My Love (#551) is the second story set in the Maryland town Dani created in her Harlequin Intrigue book For His Daughter (#539).

  Susan Kearney rounds out the month with a trip to the wildest American frontier—Alaska. A Night Without End (#552) is another installment in the Harlequin Intrigue bestselling amnesia promotion A MEMORY AWAY…. This time a woman wakes to find herself in a remote land in the arms of a sexy stranger who claims to be her husband.

  And this is just the beginning! We at Harlequin Intrigue are committed to keeping you on the edge of your seat. Thank you for your enthusiastic support.

  Sincerely,

  Denise O’Sullivan

  Associate Senior Editor, Harlequin Intrigue

  The Littlest Witness

  Amanda Stevens

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Amanda Stevens has written over twenty novels of romantic suspense. Her books have appeared on several bestseller lists, and she has won Reviewer’s Choice and Career Achievement in Romantic/ Mystery awards from Romantic Times Magazine. She resides in Cypress, Texas, with her husband, her son and daughter, and their two cats.

  Books by Amanda Stevens

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  373—STRANGER IN PARADISE

  388—A BABY’S CRY

  397—A MAN OF SECRETS

  430—THE SECOND MRS. MALONE

  453—THE HERO’S SON*

  458—THE BROTHER’S WIFE*

  462—THE LONG-LOST HEIR*

  489—SOMEBODY’S BABY

  511—LOVER, STRANGER

  549—THE LITTLEST WITNESS**

  HARLEQUIN BOOKS

  2-in-1 Harlequin 50th Anniversary Collection

  HER SECRET PAST

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  John Gallagher—His only witness to murder is a little girl who can’t speak.

  Thea Lockhart—She’s given up everything for her daughter. Has she finally found a man she can trust?

  Nikki Lockhart—The four-year-old silent witness.

  Gail Waters—Her death is as mysterious as the missing people she hunted down.

  Morris Dalrimple—The building manager would like to know Thea much better.

  Superintendent Ed Dawson—How well did he know Ms. Waters?

  Annette Dawson—Ed’s bitter wife.

  Eddie Dawson—Ed’s estranged son is nowhere to be found.

  Liam Gallagher—John’s uncle is in a hurry to close the case. Why?

  Miles Gallagher—A cop with a faulty memory.

  Bliss Kyler—Where did Nikki’s baby-sitter take her to play?

  Mrs. Lewellyn—Does Thea’s neighbor suspect her secrets?

  Rick Mancuso—The man who haunts Thea’s worst nightmares.

  This book is dedicated with much gratitude and

  appreciation to my editor, Natashya Wilson.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Thea Lockhart hated being out so late. Every big city had its dangers, but Chicago after dark seemed particularly perilous, perhaps because she didn’t yet feel at home there. Or perhaps because the weather was so cruel, even for November. The days were gray and dismal, spilling over into frigid nights that seemed to go on forever. Thea sometimes wondered if she would ever be warm again.

  But the bone-deep chill came from neither the city nor the temperature. She could have gone anywhere—a southern city, a small town, even out of the country—and the demons would have followed, pursuing her to the ends of the earth if necessary.

  Thea’s fate—and her daughter’s—had been sealed four months ago, when she’d fled Baltimore in the middle of the night, leaving behind her identity, her friends and family, and her ex-husband, dead on her bedroom floor.

  Because of what she’d done, she and Nikki would be on the run for the rest of their lives. The Mancuso family, along with the rest of the Baltimore Police Department, would never stop looking for them. Thea had violated the Brotherhood, the Blue Wall, and for that she would pay dearly—if she was caught.

  Shivering in her long wool coat, she hurried down Woodlawn Avenue, away from the university. The lake was only a few blocks away, and the icy wind whistled through the alleys, in sync for an eerie moment with an ambulance siren that built to a crescendo, then faded.

  It was after midnight and the empty streets spooked her. A shiver of warning feathered up her backbone, but when she glanced over her shoulder, there was no one behind her.

  Through a break in the buildings, she glimpsed the smokestacks from the power plant. They rose like dark guardians in the night sky, but if anything, the sight deepened Thea’s chill. She felt alone and vulnerable. Exposed.

  Normally she would have been home long before now, but three of the five waitresses scheduled for the evening shift at the diner had come down with the flu, and Thea’s boss had pressed her into working a double.

  As much as she hated not being home in time to bathe her daughter and put her to bed—an evening ritual that had become important to both of them—Thea couldn’t refuse. Zelda Vanripper, owner of Zelda’s Eatery in Hyde Park, had been good to her, putting her on the day shift so that she could be home with Nikki at night and asking few questions about her background.

  So Thea had stayed and worked, and the extra tips would come in ha
ndy, as always. But after being on her feet since seven that morning, she couldn’t wait to get home to a hot bath.

  Her apartment building was only a few blocks from the diner, but the last two blocks dragged on her frazzled nerves and weary muscles. Huddling in her coat as a frigid gust tore at her, she hurried her steps, more anxious than ever to be out of the cold and the darkness.

  As she crossed East Fifty-fifth Street, her apartment building finally came into view, but the sigh of relief died on her lips. Blue lights from half-a-dozen police cars bounced off the sides of buildings and reflected in long wavering beams down the wet street, capturing Thea in a frail azure glow.

  She stood frozen for the longest moment, a two-word prayer rambling over and over in her mind. Oh God oh God oh God.

  They’d found her!

  Her first instinct was to turn and flee, to disappear into the shadows before anyone noticed her. But her daughter was in that building, and nothing, not even her own freedom, could compel her to run. She would never let them take Nikki back to Baltimore, back to the Mancusos, who would raise her in the same corruption in which they’d raised their own son.

  Don’t think about that now, Thea ordered herself, burying her trembling hands in her pockets. Don’t think about Rick or the gunshot or all that blood.

  Now was definitely not the time to panic.

  Head down, shoulders hunched against the wind, she hurried along the sidewalk. When she drew near her building, she could see the area was cordoned off with yellow tape. Several policemen, uniforms and plainclothes, clustered around something in the street, almost directly in front of the building’s entrance.

  Thea’s heart rocketed against her ribcage. Bile rose in her throat as she strained to see through the wall of policemen. Please, God, she prayed desperately. Let Nikki be all right.

  If anything ever happened to her daughter, Thea wasn’t sure how she would cope. Nikki was her whole life, a sweet damaged angel who had been put through hell because of her parents. Thea would do anything, anything to protect her.

  But what if she was too late? What if Rick’s family had somehow found them, and Nikki had tried to get away and…

  Almost running now, Thea saw one of the officers step out of the way, and for the first time, she glimpsed the body lying on the pavement. Relief rushed through her when she saw it was a woman and not a child who lay motionless at the officers’ feet. But in the next instant Thea realized with guilty compassion that the victim was someone’s daughter. Her next of kin would be getting that terrible phone call, probably within the hour.

  Lenore Mancuso’s grief-stricken face flashed across Thea’s mind, but she quickly shoved it aside. She wouldn’t think about Rick’s mother now, either.

  Slowing, Thea hung back from the policemen, hoping they hadn’t seen her. The cold air frosted their breath as they talked and laughed and went about their grisly business with the same disconnection Thea had always found so chilling in Rick.

  Teeth chattering from the cold and from nerves, she walked past them, her head still bowed. But as she approached the stoop, one of the officers called out, “Hey, you!”

  She hesitated and looked over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, you. Come over here.”

  Her heart still pounding, Thea turned and slowly descended the steps. The officer met her at the bottom. He was one of the uniforms, middle-aged and heavyset, his face puffy and lined beneath the bill of his rain cap. His poncho billowed in the wind as he lifted his flash-light in her direction.

  Automatically Thea turned her face away, but before he could switch on the beam, another car drove up and someone shouted, “Gallagher’s here.”

  The man beside her muttered, “About damn time.”

  Thea hoped the newcomer would distract the officer so that she could slip away, but he turned to stare down at her in the rain. “You live in this building?”

  Thea hesitated, then nodded.

  “Out kind of late, aren’t you?”

  “I was just coming home from work.” She bit her lip, trying to control the chattering of her teeth. “Wh-what happened?”

  “Someone took a dive off the roof,” the officer told her dispassionately. Then, “What’s your name?”

  “Thea Lockhart.”

  He carefully noted the information in his book. “Where do you work?”

  “Zelda’s Eatery. It’s on East Fifty-seventh, near the university.”

  Thea expected more questions, but the officer seemed to lose interest as the lights on the unmarked car that had just driven up were killed. They both watched as a man—Gallagher, she presumed—got out. He was tall and his shoulders beneath the heavy overcoat looked enormous. In spite of the cold and the rain, he wasn’t wearing a hat or gloves, and his coat flapped open in the wind, making him seem impervious to the brutal weather.

  With grim deliberation, he surveyed the scene, his gaze raking the whole area—including Thea—before he walked toward the body. There was no mistaking who was in charge now. The crowd of officers parted for him, and Thea got a clearer view of the victim. She hadn’t expected so much blood. It reminded her of that night—

  She staggered back a step and the policeman beside her caught her arm. “Hey, you okay?”

  “I’m fine…”

  But she wasn’t. Violence and death hit too close to home, and as ashamed as she was to admit it, her main concern was how to disentangle herself from the police. She couldn’t get involved. She felt sorry for the poor woman lying on the street, but she couldn’t afford to get caught up in a police investigation.

  Trembling, she watched as Gallagher knelt and examined the body. He didn’t touch the victim, didn’t disturb the crime scene with so much as a stray glance, but for a long moment, he remained there, studying her face as if her last thoughts might be lingering somewhere on her frozen expression.

  After several minutes he stood. “Who was the first officer?” His tone was deep, authoritative. Not cold exactly, but a voice belonging to a man Thea had no wish to confront.

  “McGowan,” someone told him.

  “Over here,” the man beside her called out.

  Gallagher turned and started toward them. His features stood out starkly in the streetlight. Even the rain didn’t diminish the angles of his face, the broad nose, the full sensuous lips. His eyes were blue, which surprised Thea. She’d thought they would be dark, like his hair. The light color was particularly striking against his grave features.

  He wore a suit beneath the overcoat, as if he’d taken the time to dress properly before coming out. But his cheeks were roughened with stubble, giving him a sinister appearance that made Thea’s stomach quiver in fear.

  His gaze barely grazed her before he said to McGowan, “What happened?”

  “Wait here,” McGowan told Thea. He and Gallagher took a few steps away from her, but the wind caught their voices and tossed them back at her. “Looks like a dry dive,” McGowan told him. “DCDS. Detective Cox found a suicide note in her coat pocket.”

  “Any idea who she is?”

  “Not yet. There’s no ID on her, but Cox has gone up to canvass the roof for a purse or wallet, anything she might have dropped before jumping.”

  Almost inadvertently Thea’s gaze followed Gallagher’s to the roof of the building. She thought she could see someone up there now, and she shuddered as the shadow moved away from the edge.

  “Who found the body?” Gallagher asked.

  “The building manager. Claims he came outside just before midnight to walk his dog, and that’s when he saw the victim lying on the street. He checked for a pulse, didn’t find one and then went back inside to call 911.”

  “Great,” Gallagher muttered. “Probably trampled all over anything resembling evidence.” He paused. “Just before midnight you say. How accurate do you figure he is on the time?”

  “Fairly accurate,” McGowan told him. “He says he’d just finished watching an old episode of ‘Hill Street Blues,’ which come
s on at eleven, but the closing credits hadn’t yet run. He lives with his elderly mother. He says she can corroborate his story.”

  “How soon did you respond?”

  “Torecelli and I were on the scene within ten minutes after we got the call from dispatch. We secured the area and radioed for backup.”

  “The manager couldn’t identify her?”

  McGowan shook his head. “Claims he never saw her before tonight. She’s not a tenant, and he doesn’t know how she got into the building, unless someone buzzed her in. The outside doors are always kept locked.”

  That was true, Thea thought. But a policeman worth his salt knew how easy it was to obtain entrance to almost any unmonitored building. If someone wanted in badly enough, all he or she had to do was wait around until someone was either coming or going and slip through the unlocked door, usually unnoticed. Crooks did it all the time.

  And so did murderers.

  Thea shivered as she studied Detective Gallagher’s grim countenance. His gaze traced the angle of the building, studying the windows that faced the street. “What about eyewitnesses?”

  “None so far. No defense wounds, either, that we could see. We bagged her hands in plastic because of the rain.” Thea knew that normally the police liked to use paper bags, because the lack of air with plastic could alter the evidence. But that was something she didn’t want them knowing she knew.

  In fact, the less any of them knew about her the better, especially Gallagher. Thea had a bad feeling about him. A very bad feeling.

  He turned and observed the street again, watching for a few minutes as the crime-scene unit finished taking pictures and then began scouring the ground around the body for trace evidence.

  He glanced at Thea, then at McGowan. “Who’s she?”

  “She lives in the building. Says she was just getting home from work.”

  Gallagher nodded vaguely. “Might as well chalk the site when CSU finishes, although it won’t do much good if the rain doesn’t let up. I’m going up to the roof. Let me know when the coroner gets here. Establishing time of death is going to be a bitch in this weather.”