Читать книгу A Promise to Protect - Liz Johnson - Страница 11

TWO

Crossing her arms against a chill coming from somewhere deep within, Ashley stared at the note still wedged beneath the wiper blade.

If I don’t get what’s mine, you’ll get what’s yours.

Another line beneath the first gave instructions for returning his property. Put it back where you found it.

The words made her skin crawl as another shiver shot down her spine, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Her gaze traveled up and down the sidewalk. The chalkboard signs and colorful awnings were the only signs of life, except for Matt, who was marching backward toward the closest alley, his eyes squinting at her hard. “Stay put.”

At any other time, she might have resented being ordered around, but at that moment she was too worried to even notice. Apparently the note and near hit-and-run hadn’t been a fluke. Someone really was after something. Or someone.

And that meant she might need the SEAL’s help to protect her girls. As uncomfortable as she was with the thought of trusting her safety—and especially the safety of the families in her house—to someone else, her discomfort seemed a small price for the specialized protection he could offer.

She pressed her hands to her cheeks and took several deep breaths, her stomach pitching like a canoe in a typhoon. Even with her eyes pinched closed, she could see her windshield, and she clamped them even tighter, trying to dispel the image. Although the picture wouldn’t disappear, she refused to give in to the burning at the back of her eyes, instead letting out a slow breath through clenched teeth as she prayed for something she couldn’t even name.

Peace?

Courage?

Protection?

“There’s no one there.” Matt’s words snatched her from the depths of her own mind. “This must have happened a while ago.” His lips barely moved, but the force of his tone could have blown over the first little pig’s house. She could only be thankful that his ire was directed at the situation and not at her.

“Thanks for checking.”

“We need to report this.”

She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling out her phone. “First I have to call the house and make sure everyone’s okay. That this guy—” she nodded toward her car “—didn’t go there after doing this.” With fingers that shook more than she wanted to admit, she punched in the number to Lil’s Place; the knot in her stomach tightened with each unanswered ring.

The intensity in Matt’s eyes only made her throat thick, so she turned her back on him. Holding her breath on the fifth ring, she prayed someone would pick up. What if the man who’d smashed her windshield and left this note had hurt the women at Lil’s?

No. She wouldn’t let that happen. Not on her watch.

If someone didn’t answer on the next ring, she’d fly—shattered glass and all—back to the house.

“Hello?”

“Meghan?”

“Hi, Ashley.” Was her voice too calm? Her tone overly cool? Was someone there with her, threatening her?

Ashley bit her lip hard, the pain forcing her mind back to the immediate. “Is everything all right at the house?”

“Of course.”

“But it took five rings for you to pick up.”

Meghan chuckled, the bright, cheerful sound an exact replica of her ten-year-old daughter’s laugh. “The girls and I are making cookies, and we had the mixer on. We didn’t hear the phone.”

“And everyone else? Carmen? Benita and Julio?”

“Well, Carmen left this morning with you, but everyone else is in the living room.” Right. Carmen’s interview and testing for the bookkeeping position would last at least another couple of hours, and she had lined up another ride back to Lil’s.

Meghan’s tone dropped, and Ashley could picture her ducking into the hallway away from her two young daughters. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

Ashley let out a slow breath, glancing back at the car and the intimidating man leaning against it. Arms crossed, he leaned on one leg and rested the other foot on top of the opposite ankle, his eyes sweeping the street over and over. When he caught her staring at him, he gave her a quick nod and returned to his watching.

“Yes, yes. Everything’s fine. I’ll be home soon.”

“All right. Bye, then.”

Ashley pressed the button on her phone to end the call and slipped it back into her purse. The hair on her arms was just beginning to fall back into place.

She turned to call to Matt, only to find him already at her side, the offending note gripped between two gloved fingers. “Ready?” He nodded toward the police station across the street and fell into step beside her.

* * *

It took all of Matt’s willpower not to run to the police station and demand to know why they hadn’t done more to protect Ashley and her charges. How could the cops let a car be vandalized right across the street from their station? He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. For all intents and purposes, he was a civilian here with no authority. And the police wouldn’t be willing to work with him if he charged in, taking over the situation.

He could sit back this time. Watch and listen. Any mission was doomed to fail if there wasn’t enough intel. Time for a little recon.

As they entered the fluorescent light of the station, Ashley’s back arched a fraction, her pointed chin sticking out just a little bit farther, and he couldn’t help his smile as she approached the unassuming officer standing behind the counter.

“I’d like to speak with the chief.” Ashley’s voice, completely even and free of any hint of the scare she’d just received, carried to every corner of the room. If the chief was in, he’d heard her.

“I’m sorry.” The officer folded his newspaper and set it on the counter, smoothing it out with a single swipe. “The chief isn’t in right now.”

Ashley leaned in a little more, her eyes unblinking. “Well, then, who can I speak with about my smashed windshield and the threatening note left under my wiper? Perhaps you’re available to take a look at it?”

“Sorry. I’m the only one here, and I can’t leave.” The burly desk sergeant flipped his hand toward the two chairs on the opposite side of the room. “But you can wait here for the chief if you want to.”

Ashley’s shoulders dropped a fraction, but she marched over to the chairs as though this was why she’d come to the station. Matt couldn’t match her nonchalance; his frown was still on display. When they were settled into the seats, he bent toward her. “Is it usually like this?”

“Small town. Small police force.” She never took her gaze from the sergeant—at least, what was visible of the top of his head behind the paper he’d resumed reading. “The chief knows my situation, but he’s still only one guy.”

The police might not be much help. Matt had hoped that they would be halfway to identifying the threat to Ashley by now. But if the local law enforcement wasn’t equipped to do that, it was up to him. Which meant he needed information and a place to start. No time like the present.

“So who do you think tried to run you over last week?”

Taking an audible breath, she sat a little taller in her chair. “Like I said before, we get calls and threats at Lil’s Place. It’s just part of the job. Ex-husbands. Soon-to-be exes. Boyfriends. We’ve heard from them all. But we hadn’t had anything significant for a few weeks before last. Of course, we hadn’t had any new residents for a while up until last week. But there’s something different about these threats.”

“How so?”

She folded her hands in her lap, every inch the calm and collected professional until her knuckles turned white. She squeezed them so hard that the tips of her fingers turned red; she seemed wound tighter than a guitar string. But at least he could help her. He’d do whatever it took to make sure that Ashley—and anyone that she called family—was safe from whatever goon lurked in the shadows. He owed that to Ashley and her mother, who’d welcomed him into their family—and he owed even more to Tristan, who would never forgive him if anything happened to Ashley on his watch.

“Usually we know exactly who the threats are from. Abusive husbands aren’t usually afraid of being recognized.” She glanced into his eyes as she chewed on her lower lip. “These notes are different. They’re so vague. No names. No precise demands. They could be from anyone.”

Matt finally set the note from her windshield down on the table next to his bouncing knee. “And you haven’t seen anyone lurking around your place?”

Instead of answering his question, Ashley jumped up as two men entered the station. “Chief Donal, may I speak with you?”

So this was the missing chief.

“Hello, there, Miss Sawyer.” As he turned back to his companion, his sport coat pulled tight against his round belly, and he unbuttoned the jacket. “I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow, Jimmy. Same time?”

Jimmy nodded and waved, but not before tipping his nonexistent hat at Ashley. He didn’t bother with more than a glance in Matt’s direction before disappearing out the door. Matt didn’t like a guy who didn’t at least acknowledge another man, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it as he gave the police chief his full attention.

“Well, well. Miss Sawyer. Twice in one week? What have I done to deserve such a treat? And you’ve brought a friend.” Donal stuck his hand out. “Albert Donal, police chief.”

Matt stood slowly, careful not to favor his injured leg. It wouldn’t do to have anyone thinking he wasn’t up to his assignment. He squeezed the other man’s hand just hard enough to let the chief know he wasn’t dealing with a pushover. “Senior Chief Matt Waterstone.”

Donal pulled his hand back, nodding. “A navy man.”

Ashley clearly had no time for formalities; she stepped directly in front of the older man. “Someone smashed in my windshield and left me another note.”

Using a gloved hand to make sure he didn’t leave fingerprints on the note, Matt held it out to the chief.

Donal’s eyes narrowed, and he ushered them into his office. He produced an evidence bag and slipped the scrap of paper inside.

When he had settled into the leather chair behind his wide desk, the police chief studied the paper. “Where’d the note come from?” He didn’t tear his gaze from the message, as though studying it would reveal some sort of hidden meaning.

“It was under my windshield wiper.”

Donal glanced up then, surprise crossing his features. “Sit down. Please.”

They accepted the offer, both leaning toward the chief.

“Did you see who left this or what smashed your windshield?”

Matt looked at Ashley, but she didn’t wait for him before diving in. “We were running a few errands—to Puckett’s Pharmacy and Jenni’s shop—and when we came back, someone had smashed it and left the note.”

“Whoa, there.” Donal held up both hands. “We don’t know that the same person who wrote the note also smashed your windshield. For that matter, we don’t know that the broken windshield wasn’t an accident of some sort. We have had an increase in vandalism since the layoffs at the plant. It might even just be kids playing a prank.”

“You think this is kids?” Matt couldn’t keep the astonishment out of his voice. “Kids didn’t leave that note. And what are the chances that someone would leave a note for Ashley and someone else would randomly vandalize her car all on the same day? That’s some coincidence, don’t you think?”

The chief looked directly into his eyes, something the older man hadn’t done so far. “I hear what you’re saying, but this note isn’t much to go on. I can’t assume anything without real evidence.” He looked sincere, as though he wished he had different news. “In and of itself, this note wouldn’t even hold up in court.”

Ashley’s nose wrinkled at this bit of news. “So you’re saying that that—” she swung her finger toward the plastic bag still in Donal’s hand “—isn’t dangerous enough? Someone who’s willing to use violence to make a point could be after one of my girls, and this isn’t enough of a threat?”

“That’s right.” He held it out to her, so that both Matt and Ashley could read the words typed there.

Not that Matt needed another look. Those words had been seared into his memory from the moment he read them. He didn’t see how they could be read as anything other than intimidation toward Ashley and someone else at Lil’s Place.

The chief continued, “Yes, it could be construed as threatening. But it could also just be a reminder that someone wants his lawnmower back.”

“I have my own lawnmower.”

“That’s not the point. It could be anything that’s been borrowed from a neighbor.” Donal ran his hand over his grease-slicked hair. “The point is, the burden of proof on these things is on us. Even if we figured out who was behind this, the newest lawyer in the public defender’s office could get the writer of either of your notes free. And because there’s nothing here that confirms violent intent, my hands are tied.”

Ashley opened her mouth to speak, but Matt cut her off with a hand on her shoulder. “Will you at least look into it? Check for fingerprints?”

“Absolutely.” The round man heaved himself from his burgundy leather chair, his stance a silent invitation for them to leave. “Tell you what. I’ll ask my guy Frank to drive past Lil’s Place a few times a day and keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

Matt stood, reaching for Ashley’s elbow, but she beat him out of her chair, offering her hand and a half smile to the chief. “I’d appreciate anything you can do.”

Before either of them could say something else, Donal looked hard at them. “Let my guys do their jobs. Don’t get in our way. We’ll handle this.”

Matt bit the inside of his cheek and forced a smile. “Thank you, Chief.”

They weren’t going to get any more of a commitment from the police force than that, and it would only hurt Ashley’s case to be at odds with them.

As they stepped back into the afternoon sunshine, Ashley shot him a glance through narrowed eyes, her nose wrinkled and lips pursed. “What do you think?”

He shot her a smile. “I think we’re going to have to fly under the radar.”

“What does that mean?” But the flash of her grin told him she already knew.

“Someone thinks they only have to contend with the Charity Way Police Department. They’re in for a nasty surprise.”

Ashley frowned. “What if Chief Donal is right? I mean, this all could just be a misunderstanding.”

Of course she’d say something like that. She wanted a fight with an unknown threat about as much as she wanted that shattered windshield. But wanting the fight and getting it anyway were two different things.

“Are you willing to take a chance like that—not just for yourself, but for the families at the shelter?” He was manipulating her, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. She might take chances with her own safety, but she’d never risk anyone at Lil’s Place. The only way to keep her safe was to remind her that she wasn’t the only one at risk.

“You’re right,” she said with a sigh. “We’ll do things your way—for now.” Matt noted the clear warning in her glare but chose not to respond. He couldn’t argue with her, not when he needed her cooperation. Her knowledge was his only chance at identifying the threat. This wasn’t his usual assignment—he had no mission parameters, no assigned and carefully researched target, no backup from his team.

And with Ashley at stake, there was absolutely no room for failure.