"This inspirational romance is a hard-edged thriller with a warm spirit."
Reviewed by Louisa White
Posted January 15, 2006
Inspirational Romance | Suspense | Inspirational Mystery
Amanda (Amy) Griffin was presumed dead after the vicious
attack that killed her boyfriend in New York City. Her
sisters, Marie and Tracey, have never recovered from the
loss. At the revelation that the father they never knew has
acknowledged them in his will and left them a fortune,
scandal and media attention erupt into their quiet lives -
and Amy is forced out of the shadows to protect her family
from the danger she's made an art of escaping. She ran to keep them safe and stayed gone because it was
the only way. But three honorable men, all cops, have
entered the lives of the Griffin sisters. Chief of Police
Luke Granger makes Amy start to believe that she can come
in from the cold and finally lay the past to rest. But
before that can happen, they'll have to neutralize the mob
boss who's been hounding Amy for eight years. A pair of
brutal murders raises the stakes and charges an already
deadly situation with the mystery of a dark family secret.
Only a steadfast faith in love, and a deep connection with
God, will help the Griffin women through the worst ordeal
they've ever faced. If you think the term "inspirational romance" means soft,
sweet and boring, think again. Dee Henderson has
made her name synonymous with hard-edged thrillers that
have a warm spirit at the heart of them. Her characters
care deeply and work intelligently to solve the taut,
twisty mysteries Henderson sets for them. In THE WITNESS,
the action explodes from the first page, and despite
occasionally awkward dialogue, the novel is compulsively
readable and very satisfying. If you've never gone for
inspirational romance before, make this your first.
SUMMARY
Police Chief Luke Granger's witness to a murder, Amy
Griffin, has been on the run for years. Her two sisters
think she was murdered eight years ago. But Amy chose to
accept a life in the shadows to protect her sisters'
lives. Now unveiled secrets about their father have thrust
the sisters into the public spotlight. The man who wants
Amy dead now sees her sisters as the way to locate her.
Luke and two of his homicide detectives are determined to
stand in the way. They are each falling in love with a
different sister, and it's become a personal mission to
keep them safe. But chances are that at least one of them
will fail....And facing the future will take a faith
deeper than any of them currently knows.
ExcerptChapter One STOPPING AT THE MALL to pick up a cut-glass vase for his
sister's birthday, a mystery novel for his day off, and a
few items needed for the house had seemed like a good idea
an hour ago, but Luke Granger was still short two items on
his shopping list, and he had no desire to try another
store.
"Officer." He turned. The lady clutching two Bergner's shopping bags and the
hand of a three-year-old girl looked worried. "There's a
woman in the restroom who needs help. She asked me to find
mall security." He was city police and off duty, still in uniform after a
day in court; she was close enough. "Anyone else in
there?" "No." He nodded and crossed the corridor into the hallway with
pay phones and restrooms. A cleaning-service cart sat
outside a door marked Utilities. He pulled it over to
block the entryway to the women's restroom. "Police
officer coming in," he called in warning. He walked
through the sitting area with four chairs and a stroller
station and into the lavatory area. He saw the lady: early forties, sick, her face alabaster
white, the counter doing more to hold her upright than her
legs. He turned, set down his purchases, and returned with
a curved-back and cushioned chair. "Sit down, ma'am." He shut off the water streaming over her hands in the
basin and eased her back into the chair. She wore a white
tailored blouse and black dress slacks, the retailer
version of a uniform, and they were no longer neat or
straight. He wondered at sexual assault even as he
stripped off his jacket and bundled it around her to deal
with the chill he could feel. He was a big man, broad
shouldered and tall, and the jacket swallowed her slim
frame. "His eyes were caramel, cold." A shudder rippled through
her body. "Okay." He swept hands down her midsection looking for the
source of the smeared blood on the front of the sink
counter. Blood darkened her slacks at the right thigh, but
it hadn't soaked through the fabric from a wound. "Bressman's jewelry, the storeroom." His gaze shot to hers. "They're all dead. I checked." He briskly closed his jacket snaps up to her neck. "Stay
right here." She gave a jerky nod. He left her there.
* * *
Luke walked into Bressman's Jewelry. The sign turning
above the front display counter advertised 30 percent off
diamond pendants this week only. No salesclerks were in
sight. He walked around the counters and into a small back
office, then turned down the narrow hallway that
paralleled the public restrooms. A door moved back and
forth in the breeze of the overhead air conditioning, and
a radio tuned to a country station began a new song;
nothing else spoke of life. He looked. And because he was a cop, he stood. The horror took a good
minute to wash through his system as he cataloged the
killings. Four store staff herded back here and shot as a
group, the blood splatter staining the storage shelves.
The youngest looked to be barely out of high school with
her makeup perfect and her nails painted a soft pink. A
lady his mother's age had been shot in the head. The store
manager and a third sales associate, both middle-aged men,
had died in front of a holder for gift boxes. The blood
hadn't attracted more than a couple flies yet: ten
minutes? twenty? The fact it had been done in his town, within his reach,
and as deputy chief of police he hadn't been able to
prevent it, chilled his anger to a hard, sharp edge. Luke
reached for his radio. "55-14." "10-2," He recognized the dispatcher's voice in the brief
answer. "Janice, there's a multiple 187 at Ellerton Mall,
Bressman's Jewelry." He mentally ran through the list of
detectives on duty. "I need Connor, Marsh, Mayfield, and
St. James. Tell them minutes matter." "Yes, sir. Priority calls are going out." "Assign a band for this case." "Four." He switched over his radio frequency. "Emergency Services?" Janice asked. "Dispatch forensics code orange to the scene and alert the
coroner. I'll need forty officers pulled in. Locate as
many as you can in-house, tap the Westford district, and
then start calling men back to duty. Marsh will be
handling assignments on scene. Where's Paul Riker right
now?" "His schedule shows a Q&A with print journalists." "Have someone pass him a message. I need him on scene." "Yes, sir." "Questions?" "I can handle it, sir." "Good. I'm code four." Footsteps had him turning. Two mall security officers,
both hurrying. "Stay up front." Luke left the door swinging in the air-
conditioned breeze and walked back to the
showroom. "There's been a shooting. How many security
officers does the mall have on duty?" "Four." "Okay. I want the two of you to close this storefront.
Parker, once the gate is locked, I want you to sit at the
side entrance to this store. No one but Brentwood or
Westford officers enter or you won't be employed tomorrow,
you understand?" "Yes, sir." "Richards, I want you to get the other two mall guards and
start working the parking lot starting at this entrance. I
want a list of license-plate numbers for every vehicle on
the lot." They stood there. "Move." They rushed to bring down the security gate, pulling the
first panel from the ceiling to cover the main section of
the store entryway. Luke walked over to the east wall of the display area and
took down the sixth framed picture. His witness looked
better in her official photo. Kelly Brown. It didn't sound
like a forty something's name. Her hair had changed-it was
now a couple inches longer and a shade darker auburn-but
the blue eyes were the same. He kept the photo and walked the display cases. Nothing
appeared disturbed. A robbery with multiple murders and no
jewelry taken? How much would be here in inventory? A
hundred thousand? More? Do you have a special sales area,
Kelly Brown? Rings, watches, the necklaces that would cost
a year of my salary? You were wearing no jewelry today,
not even a ring. That surprised me. The cash register also
appeared untouched. Luke looked up as the first officers he had requested
began to stream in. Connor was in the lead with his
partner, Marsh, towering over him a step behind. Connor
was all of five nine, wearing the black jeans and
sweatshirt he favored for days working the streets. Marsh,
at six four, still looked like a hungover drunk after too
many days staking out alleys, and the dark shadows under
his eyes were more pronounced than normal. Luke considered
them to be among the best officers in the department, even
though neither would like to hear that commendation
repeated in public for fear they would end up in
management one day. "What do we have, Boss?" Luke pointed to the back hallway. "I'm leaving the scene
to you, Connor. Marsh, you're coordinating the officers
coming in to assist. I've got a witness to deal with. I
need names and addresses of the victims fast, because I'm
not seeing robbery as the motive. We're still in the first
hour, so light a fire under everyone." "Will do." "Keep the traffic on channel four. As soon as Riker
arrives, page me. The press is going to be a problem with
this one." Trying to clear the mall of all shoppers wasn't a workable
option, and sending a SWAT team searching for the shooter
in a crowded mall would only end up with public panic and
injuries. The shooter had come in, herded store staff to a
back storage room, and shot them there. The scene
presented said the shooter had left without trying to
attract attention, and the timing of the shootings said he
was already gone. For now they would work it outward from
the shooting scene and try not to amplify the problem they
faced. Already a crowd of shoppers was slowing, stopping, and
asking questions of each other. Luke walked through them
and around the corridor to the restrooms. The cleaning
cart remained where he had left it. Luke stepped around it
and into the ladies' restroom. The chair sat in the lavatory section, empty but for his
folded jacket. "Ma'am? Kelly Brown?" He left the lavatory and walked through the stalls. The
restroom was empty. She'd left. As shaky as she had been,
she'd still managed to leave. He walked out of the restroom and looked around the
corridor. She wasn't watching the officers at the store,
propelled there by the awfulness of what she had seen.
There wasn't a need to run, Kelly. You were safe now. "I need an address and a vehicle make for Kelly Brown,
early forties. Give me any DMV records close to the name
and age registered in the city." He started the trace and
then flipped through the phone book to locate the main
Bressman store. He tore out the page. Five branches. Why
this one? Luke reentered the jewelry store and moved into the small
office area; the hallway had begun to fill with forensics
people. Connor looked up from a file. "Your witness?" "Skipped. And from the sound of it, she saw the shooter.
I've got a trace running for her car now. Anything here
show ad dresses, phone numbers of the staff?" "I've got customer information-jewelry repair and special
orders-but the best I've done so far on the staff is an
index card taped by the phone. The main store has all the
personnel files. I've got an officer bringing them over." Luke checked the index card. Just first names, but only
one Kelly. He touched his radio. "I need a reverse lookup
on a phone number." He read it off and got an address
back. "She's close by; I'm heading over there. You're good
here?" "The photos and phone numbers give me a place to start,
and forensics has a priority to tell me the weapon used.
I'll have preliminary inventory confirmed in twenty
minutes. Right now you're right; it looks like everything
is here." "Former staff, recent firings-this types as a workplace
shooting, not a robbery. Station a patrol car and officer
at the other Bressman stores; there's no reasoning yet for
why this branch. Let's make sure it's not simply the
first." "Marsh had the same thought; he's got officers on the way
to the stores now." Luke stopped at the restroom to retrieve his jacket and
his purchases from an hour ago. He headed toward his
sedan. He could send other officers, but Kelly was spooked
enough, and what she had seen was their strongest lead
right now. The trip took seven minutes, three of them spent idling at
red lights. He turned on Amber Road. He wasn't sure he
would personally like to live this close to where he
worked. He slowed as the house numbers counted down to the
address he sought and he stopped: an old two-story red
brick with a massive front porch and a narrow lot. The oak
tree in front towered above the house and shaded the yard.
No vehicle was in Kelly Brown's driveway, and a slow drive
past showed the garage had a blown over trash can rolling
back and forth in front of the door, suggesting she hadn't
pulled through into the garage. "55-14." He touched his radio. "10-2." "DMV records for Kelly Brown at that address show only one
vehicle registered, a Honda Odyssey, plates alpha-bravo-
nine- two-five." "Alpha-bravo-nine-two-five. 10-4." Luke circled the block and saw no sign of her vehicle. He
parked on the street. Picking up his jacket, he slipped it
on. He lifted the collar closer to his face and caught the
faint trace of her perfume. A lady's scent: welcoming, a
touch elegant. He walked up the sidewalk to her front
porch. Mail jammed the mailbox, and potted plants lined
inside the front window. Lights were off. He rang the
doorbell and opened the screen door to also knock. "Ms.
Brown, Kelly, please come to the door. It's Officer
Granger." He didn't get an answer. He walked around the property and knocked on the back
door. The house appeared locked and quiet. He hadn't seen her purse in that lavatory, and she hadn't
re-entered the jewelry store. If she wasn't home, then
where? He touched his radio. "Connor, get the mall
security guard Richards on the radio. Check if a Honda
Odyssey is still in the mall parking lot. Plates are alpha-
bravo-nine-two-five." "Hold on." Luke checked windows around the property, but what he
could see of Kelly Brown's life were plants, books, one
bowl in the draining rack beside the sink, and a jacket
lying over the back of a chair. He checked the mail and
found it all addressed to K. Brown or Kelly Brown. She
lived alone. "The vehicle is parked in section G, aisle five." "Tell Richards to keep an eye on it. Have you found any
purses in the office?" "No. There's a locker in the storeroom that may be for
coats and such. I'll check just as soon as forensics gives
me access." "I'm on my way back to you." He had left her at the mall restroom. If she didn't have
her purse, she didn't have car or house keys, and she
would have no cash beyond what she might have slipped into
her pocket. But if she'd worked at that mall branch for
three years, as the photo indicated, she likely had
friends on staff at other stores. Lack of keys or cash
wasn't going to slow her down. And if she was running
scared-come on, honey, the last thing I want to do is go
knock on the doors of your friends and leave them worried
when I can't tell them for sure you're okay. She'd seen the shooter well enough to know his eye color.
She hadn't been killed. The two facts were incongruent.
Some one she knew? Someone she recognized on sight? Then
why hadn't she just said his name as the person who shot
her co workers? Kelly Brown, I need to find you or you need to find me,
and it has to be soon. Luke parked beside responding squad cars at the mall and
walked back inside. Marsh had set up shop east of the
jewelry-store entrance in a small storefront available for
lease, officers streaming in and out with information and
new assignments. Luke handed Marsh Kelly's photo. "I need a canvas of the
mall, staff at the stores, anyone who has seen her or
knows her. She's going to be wound pretty tight, so have
me paged rather than approach her if someone spots her.
She may have already left with a friend, so also be asking
at stores for the names of who got off duty in the last
hour and a half." "You'll have it." Marsh passed the photo to the officer
behind him. "Thirty duplicates, color. Tom, get me another
stack of mall maps to mark store assignments. What's the
latest count on the mall security tapes?" "Nine scanned so far," Tom replied. "They just brought
down another six." "Your witness is going to turn out to be our best lead on
the shooter. The initial interviews of those around the
jewelry store are coming up dry, and the security tapes
from the store and mall aren't offering much." Luke suspected that too. "She saw enough to give us the
shooter-I'm convinced of that. Stress that 'do not
approach' when she's spotted; have me paged." "Will do." Luke stopped beside the mall security guard Parker. "Does
the mall have a regular bus stop?" "One by the movie theater and the other by Sears. The blue
bus line stops at both every thirty minutes." Luke headed over to the movie-theater entrance. The bus
was on time. He stepped aboard, confirmed the driver had
been on this route the last two hours, and got a negative
when he de scribed Kelly Brown. Luke stepped back off. It had been a long shot. He flagged
down a mall-security patrol car and got in beside
Roberts. "Show me the van I tagged." As they drove the
lot, Luke flipped pages in the license-plate list. They'd
been recorded by section. "Three hundred cars, give or
take?" "Yes. The lot can hold seven hundred, and we've been under
half most of today. That's it." Roberts came to a stop
behind the vehicle. Luke got out. The windows showed him two white shopping
sacks on the passenger seat and an open soda in the cup
holder. Nothing suggested she had been back to the
vehicle; nothing suggested someone else had carpooled with
her to work. "I'll walk from here." Roberts nodded and returned to recording license plates. Had Kelly headed out into the parking lot only to change
where she was going when she realized she didn't have her
keys? Had she tried for a cab ride to a friend's who could
pay the bill for her?
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