Star Witness - By Mallory Kane Page 0,41

again, until the glass in the lower half of the door shattered. He reached in and unlatched the door from the inside. He pushed it open and pulled her inside, then closed it and latched it, for whatever good it would do, now that the bottom half was gone.

“Stay down,” he ordered Dani as he quickly assessed the interior layout of the store. Directly in front of them was the cashier’s cage, which was encased in a thick glass that Harte figured was bulletproof. Perfect. He guided Dani around behind the cage and they collapsed onto the floor with their backs against the wall, their shoulders touching. Harte felt Dani shivering.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

She nodded as she pushed wet hair out of her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, flinging water off her hands. “I used to think that walking in the rain was fun.” He took a good look at her face. She was pale, but she seemed to be fine. He breathed a sigh of relief. They’d made it.

“Stay here. I’m going to check the street.” He got up, wiping water off his face and head. Now that he had Dani in a safe place, he wanted to make sure they hadn’t been followed. He didn’t think so, but in truth, it had been impossible to see well enough to be sure.

He positioned himself with his back in the corner between the front window and the wall and surveyed the street. Everywhere they’d been, once the storm started, the streets had been deserted. Not even a dog or a cat. New Orleans people and animals knew better than to fight a storm.

The street was flowing with water, and the rain was still coming down. The sky above the tops of the buildings seemed to be almost constantly lit with flashes of lightning. This was the worst kind of spring storm, and like many of them, it was caught right over the Port of New Orleans. Harte hadn’t seen or heard any tornadoes, but he knew this kind of storm could spawn them—sometimes by the dozen. They’d been lucky so far.

After he’d done his best to scan every corner and alley and scrutinize every shadow, he headed back behind the cashier’s counter and sat down beside Dani.

“There doesn’t seem to be even a rat moving out there. We should be okay here for a while,” he told her, brushing water off his face again, then leaned his head back against the wall. When he closed his eyes, he could see the metal sign, tumbling toward them. That had been a close call. Too close. He didn’t have to work hard to conjure up a vision of that piece of twisted steel slicing through them. He shuddered. At least they were finally safe. For now.

* * *

DANI COULDN’T REMEMBER ever being so tired or scared in her life. Not even on the night her grandfather was murdered. She’d been scared in the B & B when the lights had gone out. And she’d been afraid when the men had started burning the warehouse floats. But neither of those things had compared with the terror that had overwhelmed her when Harte had suddenly grabbed her and dove to the ground with her in tow. She’d had no idea what was happening. She’d heard the metallic whistling of something passing over their heads. At first she’d thought the sound was bullets, whistling close by her ears, but it droned on for too long. Then she’d heard a harsh screech in front of them. The whole while, she’d scrunched her shoulders, expecting some kind of blow at any second. When Harte rolled off her, and she’d raised her head, she’d caught a fleeting glimpse of a bent, jagged-edged sign as it disappeared into the gray distance.

She shuddered now, recalling the sight. “That sign. It b-barely missed us,” she muttered, shuddering.

Harte didn’t answer.

“You saved my life—again.”

Drops of water from her hair dripped down the back of her neck. She didn’t want to move, but the chilly drops were tickling her back. She gathered her hair in her hands and squeezed it, shivering as the water ran in rivulets down her neck and between her breasts.

Her eyes burned and her throat clogged. She felt tears welling. She’d been a hairbreadth away from death three times within a week. Harte shifted, then turned on the flashlight. The beam was weak and pale.

“Oh no, the battery’s nearly dead,” Dani said.

Harte turned his gaze to hers. His eyes