Nightfall by Laura Griffin Page A

us through what
happened,” Beckman said, all trace of politeness gone.
    And so Maddie
did.
     
    ***
     
    Brian watched as Madeline
Callahan gave a concise but thorough account of the events
following her photo shoot. The woman had an eye for detail—that
much was clear. She also had an attitude. He wasn’t sure where it
came from. Most people tended to perk up and take notice when FBI
agents arrived on the scene, but this woman seemed mostly
annoyed.
    Brian watched her,
intrigued. She wore faded jeans that hugged her hips, brown leather
boots, and a black T-shirt that stretched tight over her breasts.
Her arms were folded as if she were cold—and she probably was,
given that the temperature had dropped into the forties since dusk.
Her curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but strands had
escaped and she kept tucking them back behind her ears. A nervous
habit, maybe? But she didn’t seem nervous, and Brian had
interviewed more than enough witnesses to know. His attention
drifted to those full lips that seemed to taunt him as she talked.
He watched her mouth and knew he was going to be fantasizing about
it for a good long time.
    In an effort to stay
focused, he shifted his gaze to the side of her jaw, which was
swollen and rapidly turning purple. Her assailant had gotten in a
solid punch, and Brian’s gut tightened as he imagined some fat,
hairy fist connecting with her face.
    She was staring at him now
and he realized she’d finished her story.
    “ So, your camera was
directed north,” Sam stated, saving him from making an ass of
himself.
    “ That’s right.”
    Brian cleared his throat.
“Ma’am, what are the odds you might have inadvertently photographed
someone standing in front of that bank at five-thirty?”
    She paused for a moment.
“I’d say good. But I’d also say the odds of us ever knowing for
sure are nil. So, as much as I’d love to help you guys, I think
we’re all pretty much out of luck today.” She checked her watch,
and a look of anxiety flashed across her face. “And now I really have to
go.”
    “ Do you need a ride home?”
Brian asked her.
    She looked surprised by the
offer. Then wary. “Thanks, but I’ve got my car.” She cast a glance
over her shoulder at the parking garage and the anxiety seemed to
double.
    “ Would you like an escort?”
he asked.
    “ An escort?”
    “ To your
vehicle.”
    “ Oh. No. Really, I’m fine.”
She hitched her purse onto her shoulder. “So, if there’s nothing
else you need…?”
    “ If there is, we’ll call
you,” Brian said.
    Her gaze narrowed. “I didn’t
give you my number.”
    He smiled slightly. “We can
get it.”
    They watched her walk across
the street, and Brian marveled at her confidence as she returned,
alone, to the scene of her attack. After dark, no less. Granted,
there were cops milling around here, but still.
    “ What do you think?” Sam
asked.
    Brian glanced at his
partner. “Seems pretty street smart for a wedding
photographer.”
    “ In a hurry to leave,
too.”
    “ Maybe she’s got a
date.”
    Sam shot him a
look.
    “ What?”
    “ Damn, Beckman. Don’t you
ever stop?”
    “ I didn’t say
anything.”
    “ You were thinking
it.”
    “ You believe she saw them?”
he asked, changing the subject.
    “ I think the timing’s too
perfect to be a coincidence,” Sam said grimly. “A photographer gets
mugged right after a kidnapping goes down? By a two-man team, and
they don’t even get her purse?” Sam rubbed his hand over his bald
head and blew out a sigh, reminding Brian what a truly crappy day
they’d had. And it wasn’t nearly over yet. They still had to get
back to the office in San Antonio and help the task force piece
together what happened to Jolene Murphy, the star witness in their
upcoming case.
    The star witness who had
gone missing only minutes after leaving her office, which just
happened to be across the street from Maddie Callahan’s photo
shoot.
    Sam was right. The timing,
the