Page 1 of Shadowed Witness

1

Lights? Check.

Camera? Check.

Three bags and a purse? Check.

Allye Jessup looped all four sets of straps over her left shoulder and stepped out of her small second-story photography studio into a warm autumn evening. The sun had just set, but it was still light enough that the dusk-to-dawn light above the landing hadn’t kicked on yet. That wouldn’t last long, especially with the fog already beginning to move in.

Tightly gripping the rail, she started down the metal stairs. She didn’t need another fall, and the way her equilibrium had been off lately, she wasn’t taking any chances. When she was nearly at the bottom, a dull thud sounded from behind the building. Someone stifled a cry. Another thud.

What in the world?

Allye hurried down the last few stairs and toward the noise. She slowed before she reached the corner. Fished in her pocket for her phone. She groaned silently. Not there. No telling which bag she’d stuffed it into. Or if she’d left it in her studio. Wouldn’t be the first time.

As she edged toward the back of the building, she heard alouder ka-thump as if something heavy had fallen. The sounds changed to a muted, almost rhythmic thumping. She reached the corner and peered around.

Two men. One standing back in the shadows, watching.

The second man delivered another savage kick to something—no, someone—unmoving on the ground. The blow left the fallen man’s head tilted at an unnatural angle. Allye sucked in a breath.

The attacker swung around, chest heaving. Looked her straight in the eyes.

No.

Allye pushed off the building and ran, bags flopping against her back and side. Pursuing footfalls pounded the gravel behind her. She didn’t dare look back. She had to get out into the open. Had to—

A heavy weight plowed into her back. She screamed. Tried to catch herself as she went down in a tangle of bags. Pain shot through her knees and wrists, but she pushed herself up. Turned to fight.

Her attacker shoved her against the side of the building. The back of her head bounced against the wall.

She screamed again.

A rough hand closed around her throat, cutting off her cry and pinning her against the rough brick. Her hands flew to his, but his grip was like steel. Too tight for another scream. Just loose enough to allow her the slightest bit of oxygen.

“What do we have here?” He studied her, ignoring her struggles. He touched her hair, letting a curl wind around his finger, then slide off. His lips curved in a predatory grin. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

A new wave of fear skittered up her spine. She kicked, and the tip of her shoe connected solidly with his shin. He slapped her, then shifted his hold on her throat, lifting so her toes barely touched the ground. Rage glittered in his eyes.

And he started to squeeze.

She clawed at his fingers, his arm. He snatched both her hands in his free one with a grip that threatened to snap her wrists. Her vision darkened, punctuated by pinpricks of light. She tried to kick again, but he was too close and her strength was fading.

Someone shouted—the words garbled by the rushing in her ears. Hope flared.

Her attacker looked to the side, but the force of his grip didn’t diminish.

Lungs feeling ready to burst, she jerked one last time against his hold. He didn’t budge. The glimmer of hope faded.

Allye succumbed to the darkness.

“ALLYE. ALLYE!”A voice penetrated the smothering black hole of unconsciousness. Someone gripped her shoulders and gently shook her. “Are you okay?”

Allye groaned, and her throat rebelled against the sound. Pain. The attack. Panic flooded in.

She clawed her way to the light, ready to fight for her life. But rather than cooperating with her brain, her eyelids fluttered, and her body declined to move at all.

“Allye?” The voice came again, and this time she recognized it. Mayor Jennings. Not the attacker.

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