Читать книгу Protected Secrets - Heather Woodhaven - Страница 14
ОглавлениеBruce tried to keep his voice light, especially since Winnie stood next to him, but he struggled to keep his temper down. “I’ve spent the entire day away from my daughter. I’ve given the same statement over and over. They must’ve shuffled me around to a dozen people. The police have caught the shooter.”
Bruce didn’t even want to say Andy’s name at the moment. The less he thought about what happened, the better he’d function. Max had been their security guard since Bruce opened the company. He felt a great sense of personal loss at the man’s death, and it was all he could do to keep it together. “Can we take the panic down a notch?”
He paused as he thought about the warning on his phone. If Andy was in jail, then who’d sent the message to his phone? Maybe it was a relative or a girlfriend wanting to make sure her man didn’t stay in prison. Though if that was the case, bringing in the Marshals to watch over them seemed a bit much. Delaney was acting as if he was in immediate, life-threatening danger. “Is there something I don’t know?”
She flashed him a look of pity, but before he could react, her pretty features hardened. “Normally, you would’ve been briefed by the Assistant US Attorney before I showed up, but we’re on an accelerated schedule. Everyone is in catch-up mode. By Monday night, I’m sure all of that will have happened, but for now, you need to know my job is to keep you safe. There is a suspicion that the shooter has ties to a very dangerous group.” She glanced down at the tactical watch on her wrist. “I’m giving you three minutes to grab what you need, or we leave with nothing and my team picks your clothes.”
Bruce pulled his head back at the ultimatum. He could challenge her, but he could already see that she wouldn’t back down. If the authorities thought Andy had dangerous allies, maybe he should get moving.
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”
Her close proximity, gorgeous blue eyes and hushed voice soothed his nerves somehow. He took a step backward and smiled at Winnie. “Honey, go get your Lovey.” While she ran for the blanket she insisted on sleeping with every night, he headed to his room and grabbed his biggest duffel bag. He darted from his dresser to the bathroom to Winnie’s room.
The severity of the situation magnified with each item he threw in the bag. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, pretend the murder and hacking attempt never happened and let the danger disappear. Though when the police had finally coaxed him and Nancy out of the server room, Max’s lifeless form was still on the carpeted floor, blood pooled around his chest.
Bruce’s limbs grew heavy, despite trying to move quickly. He couldn’t allow a murderer to walk free, and he couldn’t let Nancy take the burden of being the only witness. He had to testify.
He wanted to know which hacking group they suspected of being involved, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to know. His stress levels were already through the roof.
Delaney stepped into the doorway of Winnie’s room. “I’ve got officers waiting for us outside. It’s time to go.”
Winnie barreled into Delaney’s right leg and squeezed. Bruce blinked in surprise. Winnie never ran to strangers, and she certainly didn’t hug them.
Delaney flinched and stiffened. Winnie looked up and grinned. Delaney kept her head up and pursed her lips, as if she was about to be ill. Most women turned into putty around his adorable daughter, willing to do anything to earn more hugs and smiles from Winnie. Did the government assign him a marshal who hated kids?
Bruce dropped the duffel bag and scooped Winnie up. “You know, she’s usually slow to warm to people. This is her way of letting you know she likes you.”
Delaney frowned but didn’t make eye contact. “Yes, thank you, uh...Winnie.” She spun around and walked down the hallway to the front door while adjusting the hem at the back of her shirt. Bruce hadn’t noticed the outline of a gun before. The reality that danger might be lurking in the trees around his home caused him to squeeze his daughter tighter.
He picked up the duffel bag and adjusted his hold in such a way that the bag mostly hid Winnie from sight. Delaney nodded in approval. “We’ll have you and your daughter covered the whole way, but it’s good to be cautious all the same.” She jutted her chin toward him. “I need you to leave all phones, laptops and tablets here.”
He’d anticipated as much after the phone message, but he had clung to a thin hope that going entirely off the grid wouldn’t be necessary. He set all three of the items she’d listed, along with chargers, on the couch, but she didn’t give him a chance to think further on the matter.
“Someone will be by to pick up your phone. Hopefully we can trace that message.” She waved a hand toward the front door. “It’s time.” She stepped outside and Bruce held Winnie tight as he followed.
Two officers flanked them, walking beside them all the way to the back of a blue Ford Focus. A police officer had apparently already retrieved the car seat from Bruce’s Ram truck in the garage and installed it in the compact four-seater.
He ducked his head to squeeze inside and began buckling in Winnie. The door closed behind him and Delaney hopped into the driver’s seat. “Ready?”
He snapped his own seat belt on. “Ready. I have to say, I didn’t realize the Marshals were so interested in saving gas.”
From the rearview mirror, he could see a lovely pink shade cross her cheeks. “It’s actually my rental car. I just transferred back to the area. An official vehicle will arrive for our use at the safe house.” She pulled away from the curve of the roundabout and drove out of the neighborhood.
Winnie kicked her feet and released a high-pitched whine. Bruce leaned over and examined the harnesses to see if anything was pinching her. “What’s wrong?”
She said nothing but pursed her little lips and frowned at her shoes as she kicked rapidly again. Maybe her socks were bothering her. He had shoved her into the shoes pretty fast without making sure the seams were correct. He reached and tugged a bit on the cuffs. “Better?”
She stared at the shoes for another second before she nodded. He leaned against the seat. If only all of his problems were as easily solved as shoe discomfort. How was he going to manage staying in a safe house? Was he allowed to ask where the safe house was located or were questions like that frowned upon? Bruce wasn’t accustomed to looking or feeling foolish or uninformed. He took great pride in researching every opportunity or purchase beforehand so that he always knew what he was getting into. It applied to his personal life, too, meaning his car was always stocked with extreme-weather gear, his house never lacked flashlights and extra batteries, and he never left the house with his daughter without bringing a bag full of snacks, toys and extra clothes.
Right now, though, all his emergency preparedness kits meant nothing. Instead, he was asked to rely on a woman he knew nothing about. “So you just moved back to the area?” he asked. “Maybe we did know each other at one point.” He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about the way she moved or maybe her facial expressions...
“I used to work in the Ames Police Department, but it’s been almost three years since I was on active duty. I suppose it’s possible you saw me on patrol.”
He leaned back in the vinyl seat, the top of his head almost brushing the fabric above him. He never recalled a police officer making enough of an impression on him to remember their face, especially three years later. She’d made a point of saying active duty—did that mean she spent some time off duty but still an officer? What reasons could there be aside from health issues or a suspension? “Are you new to the Marshals?” Please say no.
“No. I’ve been working in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.”
That didn’t exactly make him feel better about her qualifications and experience. How many serious crimes could’ve happened in the Potato State? “Doesn’t Idaho have more trees than people?”
She laughed. “Not sure about that. Definitely more cattle than people, but the same could be said for Iowa.”
Fair point. “And pigs.”
Delaney took a sharp turn around a corner and his daughter giggled. A lyrical laugh escaped Delaney before she pressed her lips together in a stern line. Bruce stared at the rearview mirror and tried to make sense of the woman. Did she like children or not? Perhaps it wasn’t professional to appear happy when you were guarding people in danger.
She pulled up in front of an aging pink farmhouse. It was in the middle of nowhere—cut off from everything he was used to. Bruce purposefully lived his life focusing on the positive, but the bright side proved difficult to find at the moment. The loss of contact with his company and his employees hit him squarely in the chest. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to remain quiet until they stepped inside the dimly lit, musty-smelling house. He certainly hadn’t expected luxury, but he’d hoped for a place comfortable enough that he could present it to his daughter as an adventure—a holiday. It would be downright impossible to imagine they were on vacation here. Delaney closed the door behind them and flicked on the light.
“How long is this supposed to last?” Almost all of his employees had families, and Bruce felt responsible for their financial stability. He already had to forgo the sales meeting Monday that could’ve provided millions in revenue. If the company failed in his absence, their livelihoods would be threatened. It wasn’t as if he had a bunch of investors lined up to keep them afloat.
She bit her lip. “I can’t really—”
“Please.”
Her long brown ponytail swung to the left then the right as she looked around the room. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “There are no guarantees, but there is the hope that this will only last until the trial.”
“Which will be when?”
“I can’t say. It usually takes two weeks to get the Marshals involved in a case. The fact that I’m here on the same day should tell you how important it is to the federal government to handle this matter swiftly.”
Bruce’s legs suddenly felt weak. He sat down on an ugly yellow-and-brown-striped love seat. Winnie climbed onto his lap. “Are you telling me we’re being put into WITSEC?”
“No. At least, not right now. It’s not off the table, though.” A knock sounded on the door. She pulled out her weapon and peeked through an eyehole. “Friendly,” she said softly as she reholstered the gun and opened the door.
The police officer on the porch reported a clear perimeter. “We got your stuff out of the trunk like you asked.” He handed her a bright blue bag with the Marshals logo on the side. She set it down next to the couch, unzipped it and retrieved a laptop.
“I thought electronics were frowned upon,” Bruce commented.
“The Marshals make sure we use only the most secure devices.”
So did he. It was tempting to argue with her, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt that she knew what she was talking about. Delaney sat down next to him on the couch, and Winnie reached her arms out for her.
He’d never seen his daughter act so forward, and he’d never seen a woman bolt so fast. Delaney popped up and moved to a wooden chair across the room. “I can probably type better over here.”
Bruce wasn’t so much offended as perplexed. Winnie didn’t have a cold at the moment so it couldn’t have been a germ-related phobia.
Delaney typed rapidly on her keyboard. “I’m afraid I need to get a few questions out of the way to provide the best protection possible. Do you have any loved ones in town?”
“Besides my daughter? No.”
“What about your parents?”
He sighed. If only. “My mom remarried and retired in Arizona. My dad died when I was young.”
Her gaze snapped up as if to comment but instead she returned to typing. “Your case file says you have a stepbrother.”
Wow. They were going to hit on every sore point of his life in one swoop. This was going to be more fun than a visit to the doctor. “Trevor Schultz. He’s also my former business partner. He asked me to buy him out six months ago. Last I heard he was catching rays in the Cayman Islands.”
“I see you divorced over a year ago. Know the location of your ex-wife?”
“No.”
Delaney stared at the screen for a bit before she looked back up. “Listen, I know this is hard. I really do. But I need to find out if there are any weaknesses someone might exploit to get to you.”
If there was one thing Bruce had learned over the past couple of years, it was how to spot sincerity. He could see Delaney’s genuineness. She hated asking the personal questions as much as he hated answering them.
He leaned over and pulled out Winnie’s favorite pop-up book from the duffel bag, hoping it would keep his daughter distracted. “Shannon left over a year ago. She...” He let his voice trail off because he wasn’t sure how to explain. Shannon had thought Bruce became boring after they got married. She’d wanted to live in Silicon Valley instead of the Silicon Prairie. She’d said she wasn’t cut out to be a mother, but only brought that up after they had adopted a baby. He couldn’t see a reason the Marshals would need to know all of those things. “Shannon left me for another man,” he finally said. “I didn’t ask who, and I honestly don’t know where she landed.”
Delaney’s gaze flickered to Winnie and back.
“I have full custody.” The fact was that Shannon didn’t want anything to do with Winnie, something Bruce still couldn’t understand.
Delaney twirled a strand of hair from her ponytail as she stared at the computer screen. It was a cute gesture that he doubted she did consciously. “How well did you know Andy Williamson before he was hired?” she asked.
“Not at all. In fact, Trevor hired him. He ran the daily operations of the company and had the final word in all marketing and HR matters. I took care of the product development.”
“Did you socialize with Mr. Williamson after work hours—or speak to him about your own social behaviors? Any hobbies, activities or locations you frequent that he might have known about?”
“I don’t do any socializing with my staff, and aside from the office, church and day care, no other recurrent locations.” He used to have personal goals, aspirations...friends, even. There were more important things in life now.
Delaney blew out a breath as if gearing up for another onslaught of questions. “Dating?”
“No.” It wasn’t a ridiculous question. He’d thought about dating before, but how could he risk bringing another woman into Winnie’s life after what had happened with Shannon? He didn’t have the best track record at picking trustworthy people.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “What about the gym?”
He raised an eyebrow. “The gym?”
Delaney glanced at his arms before staring wide-eyed at her screen as if berating herself for looking at him. A fiery red began at her neck and worked its way upward. Bruce fought a grin, though he’d admit building muscle came relatively easy as long as he had time for strength work. “I have a jogging stroller. Otherwise, I work out with weights at home.”
Delaney closed the laptop without comment and avoided looking in his direction. “I think I’ll check in with the team and see how close they are to arriving.” She strode in and out of the bedrooms located on each side of the living room. “It looks like we need a portable crib, and I imagine you’re getting hungry.” She put her hands on her hips. “How about I have someone pick up some barbecue?”
Bruce didn’t eat out often. He liked real food and found cooking relaxing. Besides, he hated to spend the money on restaurants if it was something he could cook, but the suggestion made his stomach growl. “If you know a place that’s good.”
She leveled him with a look that said “Trust me.”
He answered the unspoken challenge. “I’m placing our safety in your hands. Obviously, I’m willing to trust you to pick the food.”
Her bravado faded and her long eyelashes fluttered. She straightened as if bolstered with a new thought. “You won’t regret it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Bruce felt certain neither one of them was thinking about the food anymore. She strode to the back door, one hand on her weapon and one hand on her phone.
He closed his eyes and nuzzled the top of Winnie’s head as he prayed that, for once, he’d placed his trust in the right person.
* * *
Monday morning, Delaney pumped her arms in rhythm as she ran around the block. The weekend had been torture. She’d been assigned to protect the most handsome man and the cutest little girl on the planet. Every time Winnie smiled it felt like a vise around Delaney’s heart, reminding her that she could’ve been a mother if only she’d gotten her life back together a little sooner. And Bruce...
Everyone liked Bruce. He stayed remarkably positive about their time cooped up in the house. He made comical faces to keep Winnie laughing and took turns playing two of the deputies in a game of Scrabble while the third was on patrol. He provided a list of groceries and made the most delicious stir-fry she’d ever tasted. In her line of work, often the witnesses had their own seedy, criminal pasts. While she appreciated their willingness to testify, it often stemmed from wanting to make a deal for themselves rather than from any genuine sense of public responsibility. But Bruce was a hardworking, upstanding...
She couldn’t even let herself think about it or she’d start wishing for what she couldn’t have. Deputy Marshal Francine Jackson and Deputy Marshal Jim Lewis were guarding Bruce and Winnie while she took an early morning run. It gave her a chance to clear her head and work out, but more important, to get a feel for the neighborhood and potential risk areas. Her phone buzzed and she slowed to a walk to answer. “Deputy Marshal Delaney Pat—”
“Delaney?” The male’s voice shook on the line. “I, uh... I didn’t expect to be talking to you.”
“And this is?”
“Harvey Jeppsen.”
An awkward silence followed. Harvey Jeppsen had been her lawyer for the private adoption. He’d been there with her in the hospital room when she’d signed away her legal rights to her baby. He’d listened to her sobs before and after. Why was he calling?
“I was told this is the number to contact my client, Mr. Walker. Are you the marshal in charge?” His voice held a hint of disbelief.
Her shoulders dropped. “Yes. I’m afraid he’s not able to talk right now. I can have him reach you in thirty minutes.”
“No matter. I just received word he’ll be at a pretrial interview later this afternoon with the US Attorney’s Office. Please tell him I’ll meet him there.”
Delaney didn’t confirm or deny, but she hung up only to get another call from the US Attorney’s Office with the same information. It was last-minute, but in a case like this, that didn’t surprise her. She jogged back to the safe house to start preparing for the trip. At least a brand-new black SUV with all the bells and whistles had arrived.
She imagined Bruce would be pleased with some forward motion on the case. It’d do him good to get out of the safe house for a bit. Maybe it would make him smile the way he had when... She cut the thought off abruptly. There she went again, thinking about his future facial expressions. The infatuation needed to be nipped in the bud. She lengthened her stride and reached the house in record time.
Thirty minutes later, she was showered, dressed and ready. “We probably should get going. I like to be extra early to allow time for contingencies.”
Bruce frowned. He hadn’t responded the way she’d expected. In fact, he seemed to be unhappy about going at all. “Any chance we can bring Winnie?”
“No.” She didn’t mean to snap. “Francine will stay here and take great care of her.” Francine had fallen head over heels for Winnie. Unfortunately, Winnie acted as if she was set on making Delaney do the same. If she allowed herself to soften, she feared she’d be ruined when the case ended, devastated that she couldn’t hold and snuggle her own little girl. “It will be a fast trip,” she added.
A knock at the front door signaled it was time to go. The US Marshals had sent a fourth deputy to join in the transport. Bruce scratched his forehead. “Let me just put her down for her nap time.”
Bruce picked up Winnie and kissed her little porcelain cheek. He started singing a song, tones so quiet and low that Delaney strained to hear it, but the concert wasn’t for her. He disappeared into a side bedroom. A moment later he came out with a video baby monitor and handed it to Francine.
“Okay, she’s singing to her stuffed animal, which means she should fall asleep soon. You have a way to reach me if I’m needed?”
Francine nodded. “Of course.”
Delaney could see the uncertainty building in his eyes. “We have to go. Now,” she said. Tag teaming with the deputy outside, she led Bruce to the door of the black SUV. They all wore plainclothes, which typically meant a polo shirt and pants, so as not to draw attention, but they didn’t compare colors ahead of time. Unfortunately, the other marshals had all decided to go with navy blue, just as she had. If they needed somewhere to hide along the way, they could blend in at Best Buy.
A silver SUV was in front and a navy SUV was behind them. They would accompany her and Bruce to the federal building in Des Moines. She knew the route well enough to skip the GPS. “An hour’s drive on I-35. I noticed they’ve widened the freeway since I’ve last been here. Should be smooth sailing.”
She started the car and they drove in silence. A few minutes later, she merged onto the freeway. The other deputies spread out, so as not to be an obvious caravan, but they communicated their movements on the radio attached to the right of her steering wheel.
Much like a dentist was trained to watch for tense patients, she noticed Bruce’s fingers gripping the sides of the leather seat and dug for something to say to distract him. “How long have you lived in Ames?” she asked. A small part of her wanted an excuse to ask how long Harvey Jeppsen had been his lawyer.
The brake lights flashed on the car in front of her. Delaney stepped on her own brakes and nothing happened. She shoved harder and the pedal went down to the floor, but their speed remained the same.
“What’s happening?”
She couldn’t answer because she wasn’t sure herself, but the distance between the SUV and the car in front was rapidly decreasing. She slid into Neutral and pulled on the parking brake. The speed remained the same.
She glanced in the side mirror and maneuvered into the small spot between two cars. The radio crackled with questions, but she ignored them because the wagon in front of her wasn’t going fast enough. She swerved onto the shoulder, almost clipping the car full of oblivious teenagers.
“One more inch and we would’ve hit. Sign says shoulder closed. Why are you doing this? Is there someone after us?” Bruce checked the side mirror.
She grabbed the radio with her right hand. “Brakes are out. Taking next exit.” She dropped the radio as she used both hands to take the ramp, hoping the sharp curve to the right would slow them down or at least offer an empty pasture. “I can’t talk now,” she told Bruce.
The radio crackled. “Affirmative. We couldn’t make that exit in time. Will take the next one and join you. No suspicious activity?”
“I think the brakes going out is suspicious enough,” Bruce muttered. He leaned as far forward as he could and looked out the window. “There is a road to the left that’s pretty unpopulated. Think you can make it?”
“We don’t have much choice.”
The grade sloped and the SUV’s speed increased. She pressed the brake hard out of habit. Her head lurched forward and backward as the SUV abruptly slowed. She pressed the brake pedal again to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. “The brakes are working again.”
Bruce put his hand on the back of his neck. “Were you just not pressing hard enough?”
She bit back a retort and turned on her left signal. “It’s safe to say that this SUV isn’t as reliable as we’d like.” They passed a gas station on the right. There was nothing but farmland on either side of the little-used highway. She tested the brakes again. Would the rest of the marshals think the whole event was the result of human error, as Bruce did? The vehicle jerked forward and a horrible grinding noise came from the hood. All the dials on the dashboard fell to zero as the motor went silent.
“The engine died?” Bruce shook his head. “Unbelievable. This isn’t stick shift, is it? You didn’t—” The rest of his words died on his lips.
Delaney followed his gaze, and her chest seized. A pickup truck full of masked men rounded the corner with guns pointed at their SUV.
“Get down!” Bruce gave her shoulder a push. While the gesture was noble, she was supposed to be the one protecting him. She turned her head to see he’d followed his own advice as she readied her gun. Rapid pings hit the windshield, side doors and side mirrors.
“You okay?” Bruce asked. He remained hunched over, his forehead touching the glove compartment.
While the SUV was supposed to be bulletproof, she didn’t want to take chances. “Yes. Stay down.” The shots had stopped so she jumped out and took aim at the retreating vehicle, trying to read the license plate, but, of course, there was none. Not another vehicle could be seen for a mile in either direction. Where was her team? She kicked at a rock on the road and climbed back into the SUV.
While Bruce’s face had lost its color, he didn’t look injured. His hand shook ever so slightly as he pointed to the GPS. The blue screen had a message in the middle. Final Warning. Open your mouth and your family dies.
