Page 2 of Protect My Heart

“I saw nothing. Noah had just left.” Najjar’s shoulders dropped as he exhaled. His rough exterior crumbled. His hands shook. “He was a good kid. He wouldn’t hang out with punks who do that.”

“Why don’t you sit down, Mister Najjar. Is there someone you can call to stay with you?” Jim put a hand on his arm and guided him to the stool behind the counter.

“My brother will come.” He dropped his head into his hands. “Noah was a good boy.”

Jim wrapped up his questions and signaled Harris to come back and stay with the shop owner until his family showed up. He walked outside with CJ.

“What do you think?” CJ asked as he zipped up his coat.

“I won’t know anything until we can speak to the witness.”

“Can you handle it without me? Colin’s got a hundred and four temp and Lorna’s taking him to the emergency room.”

CJ had been the job, too, until a few months ago when he started dating Lorna, a single mother. Not that Jim could blame him. He once believed he’d have a wife and kids to come home to. Things change. He shook off the thought. “Go, I got this, if the advocate ever shows up.”

“Thanks, man.” CJ gave a nod and got back into his sedan.

Jim surveyed the crime scene, rapidly blanketing with snow. Damn, he hoped the witness knew something, because the odds of them getting any usable evidence from the scene were doubtful. Where was that tent?

Dr. Elizabeth Garcia gripped the steering wheel with such force the blood drained from her fingertips. She hadn’t driven in snow in years. A tow truck had dragged the damaged cars to the side of the road, but traffic still crawled at a snail’s pace. God, she hated gridlock. It reminded her of why she picked a sunny locale for undergrad and had only been back for short visits over the last eleven years. Summer. Only summer visits. If she had stuck to her routine, she wouldn’t be in bumper-to-bumper traffic at ten thirty on a Wednesday night with every other idiot on the road.

Why had she thought coming home was a good idea? Now of all times, in the dead of winter. Was she crazy?

No, just desperate. Her shoulders slumped.

Liz loved her clients in Florida, but couldn’t keep working with Tory. Not after he started dating her coworker. Who knew her boss would fill her position so fast?

She had options though––she just needed to figure out what they were.

She picked up her phone and checked the GPS. She really needed to get a hands-free system if she decided to stay in Minnesota. Next exit. Thank the Lord. She dropped the phone onto the seat where it landed on the stack of mail from earlier that day. The yellow forwarding address on the front taunted her. No warm, sunny days in her future for the next several months.

“Why the hell am I here?” Alone in the car, she didn’t expect an answer, but the correctional facility’s address on the envelope silently reminded her. Duty. It was her duty to protect the children, even if no one had protected her. She didn’t need to open the letter to know he was up for parole. Every day since the last parole board meeting counted off in her head like a ticking bomb.

Brake lights flashed in front of her. She slammed her foot on the pedal. The box from Nordstrom in the back slid off the seat, crashing to the floor. More unopened reminders of her past.

She inched her way to the exit. Once on the city streets, she wound her way through to the crime scene. Red and blue lights strobed, bouncing flashes of color off the store windows. Grabbing her gloves, she stepped from the car. A police radio squawked to her left. She didn’t try to make out the words.

A dark curl came loose from her hair-tie and flopped in her eyes as the big fat flakes soaked the hair. It really was beautiful. A smile crept to her lips as she remembered the snow angels she’d made as a child.

As she approached the gruesome scene her face sobered, and she scanned the crowd for Luis and his grandmother, Ana. They were nowhere in sight. A full body tremor had her pulling her cashmere scarf tight to her neck. She could lie to herself and say it was due to the cold, that the body under the sheet didn’t bring back memories of a night twenty years ago.

She shook the images from her head.

“I’m Doctor Elizabeth Garcia. Can you direct me to the officer in charge?” Liz reached into her pocket and pulled out her identification to show the officer.

He pointed to the store then turned back to the crime scene tech.

Liz ducked under the crime scene tape. Time to work. Another child needed her help.

Glass and debris crunched under her feet. The warmth of the store seeped into her fingers and toes. Her glasses fogged upon entering, making her wish she’d put in her contacts. She slid them off and waved them until they started to clear before returning them to her face. The men in the room came into focus.

A thin gentleman sat in the back of the store with a uniformed officer at his side, but it was the plain-clothes cop who drew her attention. He was younger than she expected. Mid-thirties. Yes, he was definitely in charge. His confident gait and commanding voice screamed authority. She paused when he turned to face her. His messy dark hair framed a rawboned face with dark, intense eyes. Attractive, but she wouldn’t call him classically handsome.

He scowled.

Another shiver crept up her spine. Damn.

“Yes?” His deep baritone snapped in a brisk efficient manner.