Silent Witness Read online

  “You seem awfully interested in what’s going to happen with the sketch.”

  Ruth shrugged. “I just want Lily to find some closure.”

  Julian nodded. “I do, too. I’m hoping I can solve this once and for all. For her and for Jim.”

  “Thank you again,” she said as they started walking down the street. The small parking lot of the restaurant had been full when they’d arrived, so Julian had been forced to park his truck on a small side street. Ruth hadn’t thought twice about it at the time, but now that it was dark, she appreciated his presence. There weren’t many working street lamps in this area, and the surroundings that had looked derelict in the light now appeared downright sinister.

  “My pleasure,” Julian said. “This has been really nice. Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

  Ruth smiled and was about to reply when movement caught her eye. A shadow detached itself from a fence and began to approach.

  Lara Lacombe earned a PhD in microbiology and immunology and worked in several labs across the country before moving into the classroom. Her day job as a college science professor gives her time to pursue her other love—writing fast-paced romantic suspense with smart, nerdy heroines and dangerously attractive heroes. She loves to hear from readers! Find her on the web or contact her at [email protected].

  Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com.

  Silent Witness

  Lara Lacombe

  My heart is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed: I will sing and give praise.

  —Psalm 57:7

  For my family, with thanks for their enduring support.

  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

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Grave Secrets by Susan Gee Heino

  Chapter One

  “Miss Ruth? I don’t think I can do this.”

  Ruth Becker stopped walking and turned to face the girl next to her. She knelt to the ground, ignoring the heat of the pavement against her knee, and looked up into the face of ten-year-old Lily Pushkin. The Arizona sun overhead was so bright it made her eyes water, but Lily deserved an immediate response. She’d been through too much already in her young life.

  “Is everything okay?” Ruth asked quietly.

  Lily darted a glance to her grandparents, who were standing a few feet away. George and Margaret Pushkin had raised Lily from the age of four, when her parents had been brutally killed during a home invasion. Lily had witnessed it all from her spot under the bed, and the trauma had rendered her mute. But thanks to the love and care of her grandparents, and a lot of therapy, Lily had started talking again. She was now a relatively well-adjusted kid, all things considered.

  Until her nightmares had started nine months ago.

  Ruth had begun seeing Lily at that point, using music therapy as a way to help her work through the emotions of her nightmares. Ruth enjoyed spending time with all her patients, but her weekly sessions with Lily were special. There was just something about the girl that touched her heart, and Ruth always looked forward to their appointments. Lily was a sensitive, thoughtful child, qualities that Ruth found endearing. And her perseverance despite the losses she’d suffered in her young life was definitely something to admire.

  Sensing Lily was worried about her grandparents overhearing their conversation, Ruth aimed a big smile in their direction. “Why don’t you both go inside? It’s hot out here, and Lily and I will be along shortly.”

  George and Margaret exchanged a worried look, but George nodded. Margaret looked like she wanted to protest, but she swallowed the words. “We’ll see you inside, honey,” she said as she and her husband walked past them, headed for the police station.

  Ruth knew this situation had to be difficult for them. Lily’s father had been their son, and they still grieved his death. Lily’s presence was a blessing in their lives, but it didn’t heal the pain of their only child’s murder.

  Ruth watched Lily’s gaze track her grandparents. When her eyes flicked back, she knew they were inside.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  Lily shifted on her feet, dragging the toe of one shoe across the sidewalk. “I’m just not sure I should do this. What if it doesn’t help? It’s been so long... I doubt the man is even still around.”

  Ruth nodded encouragingly. “That’s possible. We’ve talked about this in our sessions. Do you remember what I told you?”

  Lily sighed. “Any information is good.” Her flat tone made it clear she was reciting Ruth’s words from memory rather than genuine belief.

  Ruth hid a smile at the girl’s evident exasperation. “And what else did I tell you?”

  Lily hesitated. “That I don’t have to do this.”

  “That’s still true.” Her knee felt like it was on fire, so Ruth stood once more. “I know your nightmares have been bothering you. I don’t know if talking to the police about your new memories of that night will make them stop. I don’t think it will hurt to try.” She reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind Lily’s ear. “But I’m not going to make you do anything. You’re in charge. If you want to talk to the detective, you can. If you don’t, then we’ll turn around and leave. It’s totally up to you.”

  Lily looked down at her shoes. “It’s not me I’m worried about,” she said softly. She glanced up and looked past Ruth to the building beyond.

  Realization hit, making Ruth’s heart ache. “You’re concerned about your grandparents?”

  Lily nodded, her features scrunching with anxiety. “This has been really hard on them,” she said, a hint of a quaver in her voice.

  Ruth put her hand on Lily’s shoulder. “And what about you, sweet girl? Hasn’t this been hard on you, too?”

  “Yeah, but...” Lily shrugged. “It’s different for me.”

  Ruth tilted her head to the side, marveling at this display of courage. “What makes you say that?”

  “I mean, it’s awful. I hate the nightmares, and I wish I could erase my memories. But I’m learning to live with them, you know?”

  Ruth nodded, and Lily continued.

  “But my grandparents, they’re old. And Grandpa George has a bad heart. They still cry about Dad, when they think I can’t hear. They don’t need to listen to me talk about that night.” She shook her head and fiddled with the bracelets she wore on her right arm.

  Ruth considered Lily’s words. As a certified music therapist, Ruth was experienced in helping people deal with and process traumatic events. But she’d never had a patient quite like Lily.

  The girl’s concern for her grandparents’ well-being was commendable and understandable. But Lily was her client, and Ruth felt obligated to do what she could to help her move through that and take care of herself. And right now, she thought the best course of action was for Lily to discuss her nightmares and the memories they’d dredged up with the detective assigned to her parents’ murder case. Maybe Lily was right, and nothing would come of it. But Ruth figured that by talking to the police, Lily could better process her own emotions. The girl was putting on a brave face at the moment, but Ruth knew from their sessions that Lily was still hurting, too.

  “It’s very thoughtful of you to w
orry about your grandparents,” Ruth said carefully. “But they want what’s best for you. If you’re concerned about how they might react to what you have to say, you can ask them to wait outside the room.”

  Lily jerked her head up. “I can do that?” She sounded uncertain, as though she didn’t quite believe she was allowed to make that request.

  Ruth nodded. “Yes. Like I told you, you’re in charge. If you want your grandparents to leave the room, that’s fine. If you want me to leave the room, I will.”

  “No,” Lily said immediately. “I want you to stay with me.”

  Warmth spread through Ruth’s chest and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. When Lily had first come to her, she’d been shy, timid and reluctant to communicate. She’d also been a little suspicious, thinking Ruth was going to be like her previous therapists. But over the last few months, Ruth and Lily had listened to music, played instruments together, and used movement and art projects to explore emotions. The unconventional approach had worked to draw the girl out of her shell and Ruth had earned her trust. It was a gift she treasured, one she was determined to protect.

  Lily looked at the building again and sighed quietly. Then she glanced at Ruth and nodded once.

  “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

  Together, they started walking toward the police station. The sandstone two-story building sat about fifty yards back on its corner lot, and the space between the building and the street was paved with bricks bearing the names of those who had donated to the police support fund. A forest of waist-high concrete posts dotted the area, making it difficult to walk in a straight line. Their presence made Ruth a little sad; Copper Cove wasn’t exactly a hotbed of criminal activity, but nowadays nothing could be taken for granted.

  Ruth held the door open for Lily, then stepped inside after the girl. A blast of cold air hit her, a welcome relief from the heat outside. Lily’s grandparents approached, aiming worried smiles at their granddaughter.

  “Are you all right, sweetie?” George asked.

  Lily nodded. “I’m okay, Grandpa.”

  “You had us worried.” Margaret’s hand stroked down the side of Lily’s arm. Her eyes were full of love, but Ruth saw the hint of tension on her face and knew the older woman was scared. And who could blame her? She thought she was going to have to listen to her granddaughter describe the murder of her son, an event that had forever changed their lives. She and George should be off enjoying retirement together, but instead, they were raising a child. Ruth had spoken with them both enough to know that they were grateful to have Lily, but she also realized this was an outcome no one had wanted.

  “Sorry,” Lily said softly.

  “What do we do now?” George asked. He glanced around the lobby of the police station. At the far end of the open space there was a large desk; a doorway beyond led deeper into the building.

  “The detective told me to let the desk sergeant know we’re here.” Ruth took a step forward, and Lily and her grandparents began to walk with her.

  Just as they reached the desk, a tall man with dark brown hair and eyes walked through the doorway beyond. Ruth could tell he was a cop before she noticed the gun holstered on his hip and the badge clipped to his belt. There was something about his body language, the way he carried himself with a sense of readiness, as though prepared to respond to whatever he might encounter. His eyes scanned the room, assessing. When they landed on her, Ruth felt a tingle of awareness run down her spine.

  Shaking off the reaction, she stepped forward, hand held out. “Detective Aguirre?”

  He took her hand and nodded. “You must be Ruth Becker.” His tone was no-nonsense, and a kernel of doubt formed in Ruth’s stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. Lily was still fragile, and if she had to tell her story to an unsympathetic listener, it could set her progress back weeks, if not months.

  But the detective turned to Lily and smiled, and between one breath and the next, her worry faded. The expression transformed his face—he no longer looked unapproachable and hard, but friendly and even kind. Ruth breathed a small sigh of relief as she watched Lily smile shyly back.

  “Hi, Lily,” he said. Even his tone had changed, a note of gentleness entering his voice that hadn’t been there seconds before. “My name is Julian.”

  He must have children, Ruth thought. There wasn’t a ring on his left hand, but based on the way he introduced himself to Lily, Ruth thought he likely had a family of his own.

  “Hello,” Lily replied.

  “Do you still want to talk to me today?” Julian asked. His body language was relaxed, his expression friendly and open. There was zero pressure for Lily to say yes—Ruth got the impression that if Lily changed her mind, Julian would accept her response with good grace and wave them off with no hard feelings.

  She watched their interaction, her mind spinning slightly. When she’d spoken to Detective Aguirre over the phone, he’d sounded professional and flat. A hint of emotion had entered his voice when she’d told him about Lily’s information, and he’d sounded eager to talk to the girl. But watching him here, she had to wonder if this was really the same man. Now that she was standing face-to-face with him, he seemed much more concerned with Lily’s well-being than with the details she’d come to share.

  Lily nodded. “Yeah, I do want to talk to you. But...” She trailed off and looked at her shoes.

  Julian frowned slightly. After a second, he crouched down so that Lily was staring at him. He spoke softly to her, and Lily whispered her reply. Though Ruth couldn’t hear what they were saying, she guessed Lily was telling him about her reluctance to let her grandparents hear her story. The fact that Lily was confiding in him like this, only minutes after meeting him for the first time, was a very good sign. Hopefully he would prove himself to be a man worthy of this child’s trust.

  Margaret sent Ruth a questioning glance. Ruth nodded and held up a hand, silently asking her to wait.

  Julian stood again and stepped closer to the adults. “You’re Lily’s grandparents?” He introduced himself, shaking hands with George and Margaret.

  “Is something wrong?” George asked. “Lily seems upset.”

  Julian shrugged one shoulder. “She doesn’t want to talk in front of you. She’s worried about how it will affect you both to hear what she has to say.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Margaret said. She glanced past Julian to her granddaughter, standing a few feet away. “We’re not letting her go in there alone!”

  “She doesn’t want to be alone,” Julian replied. He indicated Ruth with a tilt of his head. “She wants Ms. Becker to stay with her.”

  Margaret’s mouth dropped open, and she regarded Ruth with an incredulous expression. “But...” she sputtered.

  Ruth’s heart went out to the other woman. She cared so much about Lily, and she wanted to support her granddaughter, even though it was going to cause her pain. “Margaret,” she began. “Lily is trying so hard not to hurt you.”

  “But I don’t want her to worry about that!” Margaret interjected. “We’re supposed to help her, to take care of her. Not the other way around!” Her voice trembled with emotion and Ruth stole a glance at Lily. Based on the girl’s hunched shoulders, she’d heard every word.

  “Maggie,” George said softly. Margaret turned to look at her husband, her eyes brimming with tears. “We have to respect her wishes.”

  Margaret shook her head but didn’t reply. She took a deep, shuddering breath, clearly struggling. Ruth sent up a silent prayer: Please, help her. Let her find peace with Lily’s request.

  Finally, after a long, tense moment, Margaret nodded. “All right,” she said, her voice still wavering slightly. “I don’t like it, but if that’s what Lily needs right now, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  Thank You, God.

  Margaret walked over to her granddaughter and wrapped her in a
hug. She whispered something in Lily’s ear, and the girl nodded. Then she released her and stepped back with a nod. “Grandpa George and I will be waiting right here for you.”

  Ruth glanced around the lobby, noting a lack of chairs or benches. As if reading her mind, Detective Aguirre spoke up.

  “There’s a coffee shop just across the street,” he said, nodding toward the building entrance. “You might be more comfortable waiting there?”

  George nodded and draped his arm around Margaret’s shoulders. “That’s fine. We’ll see you soon, Lily-bug.”

  Lily smiled at her grandparents. “Thank you.”

  As if by unspoken agreement, the three of them watched the Pushkins walk out of the police station. Once the doors had closed behind them, Detective Aguirre turned to glance at Lily and then Ruth. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me?” He indicated the door beyond the reception desk with a sweep of his arm.

  Lily reached up and took Ruth’s hand. Ruth squeezed gently in a silent gesture of support.

  “Okay,” Lily said. “I’m ready.”

  * * *

  Unbelievable.

  Julian listened in awe as Lily described her memories in detail. He’d inherited this cold case after his partner, Jim Nelson, had died last year. The Pushkin murders had made the national news, and for the last six years, the identity of the killer, or killers, had remained a mystery, along with the true motive. A few things had been taken from the house, but not enough to suggest a robbery gone bad. Had someone been sent to assassinate them? Or had a threatening conversation escalated to the point of no return? Julian had still been in the police academy when the home invasion turned double homicide had occurred, and everyone had been buzzing with anticipation and a desire to bring the criminals to justice.

  The story of Lily Pushkin, the four-year-old who had hidden under the bed that fateful night, had tugged on the nation’s heartstrings. No one could be sure what Lily had seen, but one thing was certain—the trauma of the event had left the little girl mute for a couple of years. The fact that she was sitting across from him now, talking about what she’d witnessed and answering his questions, was nothing short of incredible.