The Deputy's Witness - Tyler Snell Anne

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her neck made its way into her cheeks. She was half-certain she could boil water if you put a pot of it against her skin. It had been a long time since she’d blushed with such intensity, as if she were some schoolgirl.

      “Oh yeah, sorry about that.” She handed him the purse, fumbling a little in the middle, and watched as he opened and inspected the inside of it.

      Alyssa averted her eyes to the doors a few feet from her. The deputy might have been unexpectedly attractive, but one look at those doors and that novelty was being replaced with nerves again.

      “Are there a lot of people in there yet?” she asked the lone deputy.

      He looked up from her purse, seemingly okay with it, and passed it back to her. He nodded. “More than I thought would show up this early. But I think a lot of them just came for the show.”

      There was distaste in his words and she agreed with it. Small towns equaled big reactions to anomalous events. Good, bad or otherwise. Plus, somehow the robbery felt intimate to her. An experience no one understood unless it had happened to them. She could understand the loved ones of those who had been inside the bank, but for the people who showed up for the basic need for gossip, she held no love.

      Alyssa took her purse back and inhaled a big breath. She started to walk forward but found her feet hesitating.

      “Dupree Slater isn’t in there yet, right?” she asked just to make sure. The deputy’s golden brows drew in together. “He was one of the gunmen.”

      The man who survived, she wanted to add.

      “No. He won’t be escorted in until the beginning of the trial.”

      Alyssa exhaled. At least she had a few more minutes to collect herself before she saw her own personal nightmare in person again.

      “Are you a family or friend of his?” the deputy asked. “Of Slater’s?”

      Alyssa felt her face draw in, eyes narrowing into angry slits, before the heat of anger began to burn beneath her breast. Without giving her mind permission, she thought again of what had happened in the bank. Like a movie scene left on repeat. The spot on her back began to burn in unison with fresh anger, as if it had been lit on fire and she was forced to bear the flames.

      No, she didn’t want to be associated with Dupree Slater ever. Not as his friend. Not as his family. And most certainly not as his victim. That thought alone put a little more bite into her response than she’d meant.

      “I am not a part of his family and certainly not his friend,” she almost hissed. “I’m here to testify against him.”

      She didn’t wait for the deputy to respond. In fact, she didn’t even look for his reaction. Instead she pitched her head up high and marched into the courtroom. Ready to get the Storm Chasers and the damage they’d done out of her life. She wanted to move on and leave that nightmare behind.

      No.

      She needed to.

       Chapter Three

      Caleb was perplexed. Not a word he often thought about but one that fit the bill as he watched the courtroom doors shut behind the woman. He’d been at the courthouse since it opened, and she had been, by far, the most interesting part of his Monday. And he doubted she even meant to be interesting.

      The analytical side of his brain, the skills in reading body language and social interactions that he liked to think he’d honed through his career, had locked on to her expression, trying to read her. To figure her out.

      She had run a gauntlet of emotions across her face in the span of less than a minute. Fear, concern, anger, defiance and something he hadn’t been able to pin down. A mystery element that snagged his attention. Then, as quickly as she’d shown up, she was gone. In her wake a taste of vulnerability that had intrigued him even more.

      Who was she?

      And why did he want to know?

      “Was that Alyssa?”

      Caleb spun around. He was surprised to see an older man dressed in a suit standing so close. Caleb hadn’t heard him walk up. Leave it to a beautiful woman to break his focus so quickly. Though, if he was being honest, that hadn’t happened in a long time.

      It was Caleb’s turn to say “Excuse me?”

      The man pointed to the doors. “The woman you were just talking to, was it Alyssa Garner?”

      “I didn’t catch a name,” Caleb admitted.

      “Oh, I thought you two knew each other. I saw you talking when I walked in.”

      Caleb wondered why the man cared but still explained. “I asked if she was a family or friend of Slater’s, one of the gunmen from the robbery.”

      It was like something was in the water in Carpenter, Alabama. As soon as the name left Caleb’s mouth, the man’s expression darkened. Unlike the woman, the man stayed on that emotion. If his skin had been lighter, Caleb would bet it would have been red from it. That was what rage did. Turned you raw. Caleb knew what that looked like—felt like too—and the man was suddenly waist-deep in it.

      “You know, she had the same reaction,” Caleb had to point out. Again the cop side of his brain was piqued. He wished he’d done more research into the robbery other than reading the newspaper article the sheriff had given him. Then again, it wasn’t a necessity for him to research a case he wasn’t a part of. Especially since he’d get a recap from the future proceedings.

      “You’ll find no love for that man in this town. Not after what they did. Not after what he did.” The man touched a spot on his chest. “You know, his partner, Anna Kim, shot me, and I still hate Dupree more.”

      Caleb couldn’t stop his eyebrow from rising.

      “You must be new to town,” the man guessed.

      Caleb nodded and was given the man’s hand in return.

      “I’m Robbie,” he said. “I was the security guard. A good lot of luck that did anybody. Less than a few seconds after they came in, I was down for the count. After I was shot they let me just lie there in my own blood, ignoring me as if I was some character in a video game or whatnot. They didn’t care if I lived or died. And I would’ve died had Alyssa there not been as crafty as she was.” He pointed at the courtroom doors.

      “Crafty?”

      “She hid her cell phone until one of the tellers could call 911 and then distracted the gunman on watch by coming to my aid.”

      Robbie put his hand on his chest again and pushed.

      “She kept me from bleeding out and got a front row view when the shooting started. She watched that...that man kill two people—two good people—in cold blood.”

      “The paper said they died in the cross fire,” Caleb remembered.

      Robbie looked disgusted.

      “I don’t believe that for a second,” he said. “Dupree Slater is an evil sumbitch. Pure and simple. He wanted to kill us all and probably regrets he couldn’t get the job done.”

      Caleb didn’t know what to say. In his career he’d seen what he thought of as pure evil. Slater, although Caleb knew he was in no way a good man, didn’t seem to fit his definition of it. He’d just been a man who’d robbed a bank and gotten in a shoot-out with the cops. He’d been a piss-poor shot and people had died because of it. If anything, his female partner had seemed like the worst of the two. It was common knowledge that the first thing she’d done was shoot the security guard in the chest, which apparently was the man standing in front of Caleb.

      Maybe Robbie sensed Caleb’s thoughts.

      “Not convinced he’s evil? You want to know something that they didn’t put in the paper? Something that

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