Material Witness by Lisa Mondello, L. A. Mondello Page A

look. She went back to watching the strong lines of his
profile.
    He glanced at her then, and she knew
her fears were true. His eyes were haunted.
    She leaned forward in her seat to
talk to the driver. “I’m sorry. I forgot your name.”
    The driver glanced in the rear view
mirror. “Agent Hogan.”
    “That’s right. Can you at least tell
me how much longer it’s going to take for us to get to this safe house?”
    Cassie had long since brushed aside
her annoyance that the exact location of the safe house couldn't, or wouldn't be disclosed to them. She’d been given strict orders to call Maureen and her
parents to tell them she was going out of town and wasn’t sure when she’d be
back. But she was safe and she would get in touch with them. She was also given
strict orders not to use her cell phone or email.
    As much as she hated the idea of
being locked up for Lord only knew how long, she was looking forward to getting
there and having a nice hot bubble bath before crawling beneath the sheets.
    “A few hours still. If you're tired,
why don't you nod off for a bit. It’ll make the drive go quicker.”
    Cassie leaned back in the seat. “I
can’t sleep,” she muttered.
    “You’re too wound up,” Jake said.
    She cocked her head to one side and
tossed him a wry grin. “No kidding, Sherlock. You’re just as bad. I've seen
more relaxed stiffs in the city morgue.”
    “Do you have to do that?”
    His question, as much as the stark
look on his face, startled her, filling her with a sense of foreboding. She
felt herself shrink down in the seat.
    “I was just teasing.”
    “I meant, go to the morgue. Do you
have to do that in your research?”
    Eight-year-old memories Cassie wished
she could will away stormed her mind at an alarming speed.
    “Just once,” she said quietly. “It
wasn’t for research.”
    When she paused, choking on her own
reaction to the memory, she saw that he was waiting.
    “My cousin was murdered eight years
ago. Even though she witnessed it, my grandmother couldn't believe he was
really gone, so my aunt and I took her to the morgue. It was horrible.”
    “I'm sorry.”
    “Me, too,” Cassie said shakily as the
memory of her grandmother falling to the floor and weeping uncontrollably
flooded her mind.
    “I thought because you write about
it…”
    She tilted an eyebrow. “What? That I
get off on blood and gore?”
    He lifted his shoulder in an idle
shrug.
    “Guess again. I hope I never have to
see someone I love like that again. Not in this lifetime. Seeing Emilio that
way…was quite enough.”
    Jake heaved a sigh, and she heard him
mutter an oath under his breath.
    “Were you close to him?”
    Cassie shook her head, swallowed a
bit of emotion that bubbled up her throat. “That's what makes it more horrible
to me. Before he died, I remember seeing him exactly three times in my life.”
    Jake’s eyes widened as he glanced at
her.
    “I was visiting my family in Miami
when it happened. My cousin and I were the same age, but I never got a chance
to get to know Emilio when I was growing up because we lived so far apart. I’d
gone down for a visit during spring break at college and spent a few days with
my grandmother. Emilio and I really hit it off. I was hoping to finally get the
chance to get to know him more during that visit.”
    A blanket of sadness covered her as
she turned away, twisting her attention away from the memories to the relative
safety of the scenery. Dark roads, barren hills, trees that had yet to produce
buds that would pop out in spring. And they would. It was only with absolute
death that spring didn’t come.
    The sun was now long gone. The
headlights shone bright on the dry road ahead of them. They drove in silence
for a few minutes. Every once in a while Cassie's mind would wander to that day
on her grandmother's porch.
    The sight of an animal's illuminated
eyes at the side of the road brought her back to the present. She was in a car
with Jake Santos and an