The Witness

By Joanna Hynes

..... She was extremely pretty, and the slender arm and delicate looking shoulder that peeked out of the covers, gazing intently at the length of her throat, the fine structure and definition of her jaw line, and her petite features. He startled when his gaze reached her eyes and he found her awake and watching him. He cleared his throat.
"You smelled the coffee, didn't you?" he grinned, trying to hide his discomfort.
"I did," she replied, yawning. "This bed is really comfortable," she commented. She glanced down at his bedding on the floor. "Did you sleep okay down there?"
He nodded. Look, Teesha, today we need to go over your--"
Loud pops suddenly erupted in the clearing outside the cabin. Gunfire! Reacting without thinking, Spence dove to the floor. Teesha stifled a scream and stared at him, wide-eyed, frozen in shock. He quickly scrambled toward the bed, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her, blankets and all, down to the floor.
A bullet broke the window over the kitchen area. He heard the ppffft pffft of bullets striking the old logs around the structure. "Stay down!" he ordered, shoving her underneath the bed. "Stay there! Don't move!".....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ophelia Madison Press
• Release date: Jun 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311638373

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Three Witness

By Joanna Hynes

Published by Ophelia Madison Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 Ophelia Madison Press

All Rights Reserved. No part of this work mat be reproduced or retransmitted in any forms or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or by information storage or retrieval system, without prior written permission copyright holders.

This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

The Witness

Spence Baxter strode quickly along the walkway leading to the main entrance of the FBI offices located on East 36th Avenue in downtown Denver late that Saturday afternoon. He had arrived to pick up a witness from Assistant Special Agent in Charge Jeremy Akers. As a US Marshal, Spence was often assigned to babysitting potential witnesses in safe houses throughout Denver as well as surrounding regions of Colorado. The case he had been assigned involved fraud in the construction industry. From the brief he had been given earlier this morning, he was charged in protecting the state's witness against possible repercussions due to upcoming testimony she was to give against her former boss, a man by the name of Jason Sulyman.

Apparently, Sulyman, a risk assessment manager for a major construction company in the west had bilked millions of dollars from construction developers and investors. Apparently the skuzzball had spent the past five or six years fixing the books and promising construction projects not only in Denver's Adams County, but also Colorado Springs’ El Paso County and down into Pueblo County as well. All along the Front Range, construction had slowed down during the economic downturn, and now that it was just beginning to pick up again, Sulyman had apparently decided to take advantage.

Spence would be taking care of the witness, a young data entry analyst by the name of Teesha Williams. She had discovered the discrepancies in her boss's books. From what he understood, she had hesitated reporting it at first, unsure regarding to whom she should report the fraud. Finally, she had come in person to the FBI building in Denver to talk to someone about the situation, afraid that any phone call she made from her business office might be discovered by her employer, Sulyman.

That's all Spence knew, but he wasn’t too concerned. He’d babysat witnesses before. He usually took state’s witnesses to a safe house or a motel, depending on the circumstances, the trial date, and from whom they were hiding, but most of the time he didn't even leave Adams County.

As he entered the FBI offices he was prepared for the security check. He pulled his gun from a shoulder holster and placed it in the basket along with his US Marshal's badge and then walked through the security gate, where he nodded to one of the security guards.

Jackson, how you been doing?

Hey Mister Baxter, Jackson replied. Haven't seen you for a bit. You been on vacation?

Spence laughed. "I