Книга - Protective Custody

Protective Custody
Lynette Eason


Guarding witnesses? All in a day's work for deputy U.S. marshal Carly Masterson.Protecting the judge who was indirectly responsible for her mentor's death? That's another story. Still, she won't let harm come to Judge Nicholas Floyd, or the niece and nephew in his care. She's determined to do the job right, and not let her emotions take over–no matter how wonderful it feels to be accepted by the little family. Can she let go of the past and learn to trust again before danger finds them once more?









“Think of your niece and nephew, Nicholas,” Carly offered softly.


When she’d first met him two years ago, he hadn’t had the children. His wife and sister had been alive. She’d seen pictures of the kids and he’d told her about each one in detail like the doting uncle he was.

Since then a lot had happened. He’d lost two women he’d loved, gained two children—and released a killer to kill again.

She blinked that thought away.

He blew out a breath and undid the buttons on his cuffs. Forearms roped with strength emerged as he shoved the sleeves up to his elbows—Carly swallowed hard desperately trying to convince herself she was not feeling another tug of attraction.

What was wrong with her?




LYNETTE EASON


grew up in Greenville, SC. Her home church, Northgate Baptist, had a tremendous influence on her during her early years. She credits Christian parents and dedicated Sunday School teachers for her acceptance of Christ at the tender age of eight. Even as a young girl, she knew she wanted her life to reflect the love of Jesus.

Lynette attended the University of South Carolina in Columbia, SC, then moved to Spartanburg, SC, to attend Converse College, where she obtained her master’s degree in education. During that time, she met the boy next door, Jack Eason, and married him. Jack is the executive director of the Sound of Light Ministries. Lynette and Jack have two precious children: Lauryn and Will. She and Jack are members of New Life Baptist Fellowship Church in Boiling Springs, SC, where Jack serves as the worship leader and Lynette teaches Sunday School to the four-and five-year-olds.




Protective Custody

Lynette Eason





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.

—Psalms 27:5


To my Lord and Savior who keeps me safe and secure during the storms of life.

And to a young man who wanted to see his name in a book. Here ya go, Nick.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION




ONE


In the downtown courthouse, Deputy U.S. Marshal Carly Masterson eyed the three bloody fingerprints on the cracked door and pulled her weapon.

Blood on the door to the judge’s chambers.

Not a good sign.

Her partner, Mason Stone, followed her actions. In a low whisper, he asked, “Is he in there?”

Heart picking up speed, Carly toed the door open. Without a sound, it opened inward, exposing Judge Nicholas Floyd’s chambers. “Nick?” She kept her voice low.

No answer.

They’d been on the way to the courthouse when they’d gotten a call that the judge had received the second threat of the day. This time the authorities were sending protection whether he wanted it or not. Three minutes later, Carly and Mason arrived to find themselves in this situation.

A sweep of the room showed nothing amiss.

Except for a few drops of blood trailing across the floor.

So where was the judge?

Anxiety twisting her stomach into knots, Carly said, “I’ll take the bathroom.” She headed for the closed door. “The drops of blood are fresh.”

“Look at the shape of the drops. They’re leading from the bathroom,” he noted in a matching whisper.

She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. Her fingers reached for the knob then pulled back. “Blood on the knob.”

“Noted. I’ve got your back.”

She knew he would. Having been partners for two years, she trusted Mason with her life.

“Here.” He thrust a tissue he’d retrieved from the desk into her hand. Standing to one side of the door, with Mason on the opposite side facing her, she placed the tissue over the knob, nodded to him and twisted her wrist. The door flew open at her shove, and they rounded the edges of the door frame as one, guns pointed inside.

Empty.

The bathroom contents lay scattered. Water tinged with red filled the plugged sink.

Adrenaline rushing, Carly pulled back and let the thudding in her chest subside.

Mason looked at her. “Now what?”

“We follow the blood.”



Nicholas pressed his fingers to the cut and bit back a word he hadn’t said in a long time. “Did you have to barge in while I was shaving? You could have at least let me grab a towel.” He swiped the blood on his pants, not caring if it left a stain. That was the least of his problems right now.

The marshal simply looked at him. He’d been in the Spartanburg, South Carolina, courthouse delivering a captured fugitive to his hearing when Nick had called the authorities. The first threat had come in the form of a phone call. Nick had hung up on the caller. The letter that had appeared on his desk an hour later had been harder to ignore.

He stomped to the table and yanked a napkin from the holder. The small break room/kitchen now served as his safe area until more help arrived.

“Sorry.” An unexpected apology from the man.

Pressing the napkin to the still-seeping cut, Nicholas paused. “Aw, it’s all right.” He’d been on his last upward stroke when the pounding on his bathroom door had caused him to jerk like he’d been shot. As a result, he’d pressed and yanked on the razor, cutting himself pretty bad.

“Want me to take a look at it?” Concern flickered on the marshal’s face.

“No. It’s slowing down.”

The marshal shook his head and asked, “Who still uses a straight razor these days? You got something against an electric one?”

“It was my grandfather’s. He taught me to use it and…” He shrugged and blushed. “I like a close shave.”

“Huh. Not that close, I’m guessing.”

Nick tossed the paper into the trash and grabbed another one. “You’re right about that.” He winced at the sting. “What’s your name?”

“Seth McCoy.”

“Thanks for responding so quickly, Deputy Marshal McCoy.”

For the first time, a hint of a smile creased the corners of the man’s eyes. “No problem. When a judge gets a letter like that, we don’t waste time.”

Nick grunted. “I noticed.”

McCoy’s eyes shifted as he raised a hand to the earpiece then spoke to the wall. “I got him. We’re in the break area. One way in, one way out.” A pause. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Who was that?”

“Your protection detail.”

“Protection detail, huh?”

“Yeah, and this time you’re not running them off.”

Two weeks ago, marshals had been assigned to Nicholas after the first death threat, a phone call warning him to recuse himself from the de Lugo trial or to be watching his back. Nicholas had insisted it was hoax, just like the one two years ago. The marshals had reluctantly left him alone.

Now he wasn’t so sure. The tone of this letter had been different. It had shaken him because it had mentioned the children. Twelve-year-old Lindsey and seven-year-old Christopher. When Nick’s sister had been killed in a car wreck, he’d become their guardian. “Do you have someone on my house? On the kids’ school?”

“Even as we speak.”

He didn’t like the feeling of relief. That meant he might actually be worried someone was serious about hurting him or the children. At least the children hadn’t been threatened directly. Still, Nicholas didn’t like the fact that they were mentioned—by name. “Tell them not to let the kids know anything is wrong. They’ve had so much turmoil in their lives. The less they know, the better. At least as long as we can leave it that way.”

Again, Seth eyed him patiently. “They’re professionals. The kids will be fine—and alive.”

Before Nicholas could respond, a knock on the door sounded, and he flashed back to two years ago when another knock had jerked him out of his comfort zone and forced him to admit his marriage needed help.

God, please don’t let it be…

“Hello, Nicholas.”

…Carly Masterson.



Staring at the man before her, who was dressed in jeans and a white oxford shirt stained with blood, Carly felt a surge of attraction mixed with disdain.

To cover her shock, consternation and anger with herself at the blindsiding emotions, she moved aside to let Mason in. If she was going to be attracted to someone, why couldn’t it be her partner? Unfortunately, even though she thought he was a good-looking man, Mason didn’t send a single zip up her spine.

Not like the judge standing in front of her. A judge who let a killer get off scot-free. Free to kill again. Free to kill my beloved mentor, Hank Bentley.

Of all the assignments I could have gotten, I pulled this one. Why? Who she was appealing to, she didn’t know. But it sure wasn’t God. They weren’t on speaking terms.

Focus, Carly. Do your job.

Derailing her unprofessional thoughts, she glanced at McCoy. “Took you long enough to let us know you had him.”

McCoy raised a brow and shrugged. “You know the procedure as well as I do. Get the subject safe then report in as soon as possible. That’s what I did.”

Carly did know the procedure and inwardly cringed at the gentle reprimand from her peer. She was being entirely too sensitive about this…and she knew why.

Because it was Nicholas Floyd. A man she’d come to think of as a friend two years ago when she was assigned to him and his wife. A man she once admired and respected. Only to have him turn around and let a killer go on a “technicality” six months ago. She despised the word. There should be no “technicalities” in her line of work.

But Judge Floyd was also a man who was now in danger. She would put her personal feelings aside and do her job.

“Right.” Turning to Nicholas, she asked, “What happened? We found blood in your office.”

A flush covered his cheekbones, and he shot a look at Seth. “He surprised me while I was shaving.”

Frowning, she eyed the cut on his face. “Do you need a doctor?”

“No.” His lips tightened. “I need to make sure my niece and nephew are safe, then get out there in the courtroom and try the case I’ve got waiting for me.”

“They’re safe,” she assured him. “As soon as we got the call, two other marshals and several officers headed for your house. Authorities are also fanning out around the building here. We’re pulling the security videos from the cameras around your office.”

Nick nodded. “It didn’t come through the U.S. mail. It came through interoffice mail. If you look at the cameras, all you’re going to see is my secretary entering my office and placing an interoffice envelope on my desk.”

“We’ll still check. We’ll be checking your phone records, too.”

Nick shook his head. “Of course, but what do you want to bet that threatening call came from an untraceable prepaid cell-phone number?”

“Unfortunately, you’re probably right.”

Mason cleared his throat. “What exactly did the letter say?”

Nick reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper encased in a paper bag. At Carly’s raised brow, he shrugged. “I’ve had police training, remember? Before I decided what I wanted to do with my life, I went through the police academy. I can gather evidence without contaminating it just as well as any cop.”

As she took it from him, her fingers brushed his and she felt their warmth briefly against her own. Shivers danced along her spine and she cleared her throat, ignoring the heat flushing her cheeks. She didn’t want to be attracted to a man she didn’t respect.

Focusing, she snapped on a glove and pulled the letter from the bag. She read aloud, “Drop the de Lugo case, Judge, or you’ll be sorry. You’ve already lost a sister and a wife. What would those kids do if they lost you, too? You’re not safe anywhere. Your home, your office, your gym, your bed—there’s nowhere we can’t get to you. If you don’t drop the case, you’d better update your will.”

Carly passed the letter to Mason and looked up at the handsome judge. “The de Lugo trial.” A statement, not a question. She knew about the trial.

“Yes, the trial of Ricardo de Lugo and his murdering band of cohorts is set to start in less than one week. Six days to be exact. Two years of undercover work by two FBI agents finally netted enough evidence to put him away for life—possibly even give him the death penalty.” He paused. “Assuming we make it to trial. No matter how much protection is offered, it seems this man has eyes and ears everywhere.” He gestured to the letter. “Someone who knows me pretty well seems to be passing on information.”

Carly shifted. “We have marshals on the FBI agents’ families, too. As for this—” she waved the letter “—he doesn’t necessarily have to know you well. A little research online probably told him everything ever published in the newspaper about you. But,” she mused, “whoever wrote this appears to be educated. Proper grammar, flawless punctuation…”

Seth stood. “I’ve got to get back to my partner. I left him guarding a prisoner who gets on your nerves after five minutes in his company. He’ll be ready for a break.”

Mason shook his hand. “We’ve got this covered. Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime.” Seth left, and Mason turned to Nicholas. “You’re still determined to go out there?”

A hard sheen flattened his gold-green eyes. “Absolutely.”

“When will your current trial wrap up?”

“I’m hoping by this afternoon. It’s a pretty straightforward case.”

“After that, what would you think about hiding out in a safe house until the de Lugo trial starts?”

He didn’t answer at first. “If it were just threats against me, I would say forget it. I’ve had training. But the kids…” He stood. “I’ve got to change my shirt and get into my robe. Let me think about it.”

“There’s really nothing to think about, sir. All the training in the world won’t stop a sniper’s bullet. And while we can’t exactly stop it, either, we give you a better chance of ducking when one heads your way. You need us, whether you like it or not.”

Carly watched Nick and Mason square off.

“Think of the children, Nicholas,” Carly offered softly. When she’d first met him two years ago, he hadn’t had the children. His wife and sister had been alive. She’d seen pictures of the kids, and he’d told her about them in detail, like the doting uncle he was.

Since then a lot had happened. He’d lost two women he’d loved, gained two children—and released a killer to kill again.

She blinked that last thought away.

He blew out a breath and undid the buttons on his cuffs. Forearms roped with strength emerged as he shoved the sleeves up to his elbows; Carly swallowed hard, desperately trying to convince herself she was not feeling another tug of attraction.

What was wrong with her?

“Look,” Nick said as he headed for the door, “we just moved here to Spartanburg a year ago. My mother moved out to California to take care of my sick aunt, and my latest nanny up and quit on me so I have a friend filling in.” He shook his head. “Since my sister died in the car wreck with my wife, there’s been no real consistency in my niece and nephew’s lives. Lindsey and Christopher need that. They crave that. My house is about as safe as you can get. Granted, it’s not hard to find, but I’m not listed in the phone book, either. As for the information online, that was all newspaper stuff. Nothing about where I live.” He shot Carly and Mason a hard look. “If I let you move in to my house, can you keep the kids safe while they go through their usual daily routine?”

Carly glanced at Mason, who shrugged. To Nick, she said, “Yes. The children weren’t threatened. That’s a good thing. But it’s obvious the de Lugos are trying to hit you where you’re vulnerable. They mention the kids, but there’s no overt threat to them. However, if you ask me, that’s still a threat, no matter how subtle. We’ll take extra precautions with the children, of course, but your safety is our main concern right now, since you were the one threatened.”

She wondered if she would believe those words one day, but they seemed to ease Nick’s mind a little. For her, though, just the fact that there were children involved would keep her up nights until this assignment came to an end.

Nick nodded. “Then pack your bags. I’ll tell my housekeeper you guys are moving in for a while.”



Carly watched Nicholas walk up the steps and settle himself into the judge’s chair. The bailiff took up residence off to the side. As the jury filed in, she noted their serious expressions. Several looked at the door through which the defendant would enter. Others watched their feet, never lifting their eyes from the floor even as they settled into their chairs.

Interesting and odd, she noted, picking up on the undercurrents flowing around the group.

The prosecutor already sat at his table.

The door opened, and Seth and his partner led an orange-suited, leg-shackled prisoner through it.

Harrison Frasier. On trial for the murder of a local stockbroker. He claimed he was innocent, but the security video captured him in the office at the time of the murder even though it didn’t actually show him pulling the trigger. The murder weapon was never found. However, a witness and DNA, along with the video, almost assured a guilty verdict.

Harrison Frasier. Carly tapped her lip as she studied the man. Good-looking, athletic build, early twenties. Looked like the boy next door you’d hire to mow your grass.

The jury foreman rose. Judge Floyd nodded to the man. “Has the jury reached a verdict, sir?”

“We have, Your Honor.” He carried it to the bench and handed it over.

Nicholas read it and handed it back without blinking an eye or changing expression, although Carly wondered if she was the only one who noticed the muscle jumping along his jawline.

The foreman returned to his chair and stood in front of it.

Harrison Frasier stood.

Nicholas cleared his throat and asked, “Would you please read the verdict?”

“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on all charges.”

Pandemonium broke loose.

“No!” A woman in her forties stood, tears streaming down her cheeks. Carly recognized her from the news. She was the wife of the victim. An older gentleman who looked to be her father wrapped an arm around her shoulder and simply stared at Nicholas, then at the foreman.

Carly had to strain to hear the man’s words over the chaos. “How could you let this happen?”

Nicholas stood and headed down the steps.

“Why didn’t you do something, Judge? You should have done something.” This time she heard the man loud and clear.

Nick stopped and looked out at the man who’d hollered. Sadness covered his features, and he shook his head.

“You’ll pay for this!”

Carly’s attention meter stood at full alert as she and Mason hurried to Nick’s side. A threat? She glanced at the officer nearest the door. He had his eyes on the individual who’d issued the threat. Carly relaxed a tad as she realized the man had directed his last comment to the defendant, who now stood a free man. Harrison Frasier laughed and turned his back on the elderly man.

Eyes blazing, cheeks still wet, the victim’s wife grabbed her father’s hand and pulled him toward the double rear doors of the courtroom, pushing her way through the throng of reporters and flashing cameras.

At Nicholas’s side, Carly looked at Harrison and saw him hug his lawyer and another young woman. A sister? A wife? Girlfriend?

Escorting the judge back to his chambers adjacent to the courtroom, Carly opened the door. Mason entered, weapon drawn.

Nicholas stood just inside the door next to Carly. “Come on. Isn’t this a bit extreme?”

She just looked at him, trying not to admire his handsome features. Right now, they were hard, as though chiseled in stone. The only imperfection was on his jawline where he’d sliced himself with the razor.

Distracting herself from that line of thought, she asked, “Haven’t you heard, ‘Better safe than sorry’?”

She thought she heard his teeth click together but was glad when he said nothing else. She really didn’t want to argue with him. Mason came out of the bathroom. “All clear.”

Carly heard the rasp of the zipper on Nicholas’ robe. He tossed it over the back of the chair. “Let’s get out of here. I want to check on my family.”

Gladly.

Carly led the way out the door, checking the hallway as she listened to his footfalls behind her. She shivered as she felt his gaze touch her back. What was he thinking? Was he wondering what she thought of him? That it was because of him that her friend and mentor had been killed? Did he even know?

Mason brought up the rear as they approached the back door of the building. Shoving ahead of Carly and Nicholas, he pushed open the door. Carly laid a restraining hand on Nicholas. “Wait a minute.”

An impatient sigh hissed from him, but he held his tongue and stood still.

Mason’s head popped back in. “We’re clear.”

Carly stepped out, looked both ways then motioned for Nicholas to follow. “Give Mason your keys. He’ll drive your car.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll be…”

“Hey, Judge!”

The trio turned as one to see Harrison Frasier reveling in his newly declared freedom. One hand on the passenger door of a minivan, the man offered Nicholas a salute with his free hand. “Great job in there, my friend.”

“I’m not your friend, you—”

A loud pop cut off Nicholas’s outraged growl.

Carly reacted by giving Nicholas a hard shove behind the nearest parked car and throwing herself on top of him. If a bullet was headed his way, it was going through her first. But when she looked back, it was Harrison who lay on the ground, a dark red stain growing across his chest.




TWO


“Get inside,” she ordered as she scrambled into a crouched position beside him, “just in case our shooter is still somewhere nearby.”

Without comment, pulse pounding with adrenaline, Nicholas pulled himself to his feet and pushed the door open for Carly, then followed her through it. Mason headed over to the scene.

Nicholas’s brain processed Carly’s words as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest as his mind replayed the image of Harrison being hit with the bullet.

Shock quickly followed the surprise on the man’s arrogant features. Then he’d almost looked pleading as he’d dropped to the ground.

Absently, Nicholas heard Carly talking to someone on her radio. Calling for help? His mind went to Lindsey and Christopher. He glanced at his watch. They’d be home from school by now, and he had to make sure they were safe. Carly had assured him they weren’t in any danger, but he wanted to hear that for himself from someone who had eyes on them.

Even as he subconsciously waited for the sound of another bullet, he yanked out his cell phone and pressed the speed-dial number. “Hello?”

Forcing a calmness into his voice he didn’t feel, he asked, “Debbie, is everything all right at the house?”

“Hi, Nick. Everything’s fine. Two U.S. Marshals showed up at the children’s school saying you’d been threatened and they were just there to keep an eye on things. They followed me home and are still here. Are you okay?”

He closed his eyes, picturing the children’s nanny. Debbie had been a blessing in one of his greatest times of need. When his mother had decided to leave for California, the daughter of his best friend and fellow judge, Wayne Thomas, had volunteered to fill in as caretaker for Lindsey and Christopher until he could find someone on a permanent basis. “Yes, I’m fine.” He’d tell her about the shooting later. “I’m just going to be a bit delayed in getting home, all right?”

“Sure, Nick. No problem.”

“Thanks, Deb.” The fact that he’d been threatened wouldn’t freak her out, but she’d be on high alert. Her father, Wayne Thomas, was also a judge, so she knew about threats and protective details. However, the fact that Nicholas had been present when a shooter actually killed someone might be a bit much for her.

He hung up and watched Carly walk toward him, holstering her weapon. His heart flipped into a weird beat at the sight of her, face flushed, dark curls escaping her ponytail. Mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes, so he couldn’t read her expression. He swallowed hard. Was he attracted to her? Surely not. He had appreciated her friendship two years ago. But he’d been a married man then—and no matter how troubled his marriage had been, he would never have jeopardized it by allowing himself to get close to another woman. Still, Carly had been easy to talk to, a true friend.

Focusing on her words, he pushed his thoughts away. “The shooter got away.”

Nicholas narrowed his eyes and determined to pull his own gun from the wall safe just as soon as he got home. The door opened behind him as he questioned Carly. “Why Harrison Frasier?”

“I have no idea.”

“I do.”

Nicholas turned to see Mason step inside.

A quick glimpse behind Mason as the door shut showed authorities swarming the area. The press had arrived in record time, since they were already on the premises for the trial.

Harrison had already been transported from the scene. Yellow tape marked the area where the crime-scene unit now worked. The door clicked shut, and the deputy marshal held something in his left hand that he offered to Carly. She took it.

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“Apparently, our guy is fond of letters. Two in one day.”

“So, the shooter isn’t the father of the victim.” Nick stated the thought that had been in his head ever since he’d seen Harrison go down.

“No, I’m going to say not.”

Nicholas leaned over Carly’s shoulder to read. Her scent swirled around him and, against his better judgment, he breathed in deep. Then the typed words pulled the air from his lungs.

“Do you understand our power now, Judge Nicholas Floyd?” he read aloud. “Mr. Frasier was guilty. You know it and we know it. But we wanted a not-guilty verdict. So we got it. Drop the de Lugo case or you will die and leave poor Lindsey and Christopher true orphans.”

His back teeth ground against each other. Through tight lips, he muttered, “I knew someone got to that jury as soon as I saw the verdict.”

“What do you mean?” Carly asked.

“The evidence was too clear-cut—and Harrison was too cocky. It should have been an open-and-shut case. The de Lugos got to the jury and swayed the judgment—just to prove to me they could.”

“How many jurors do you think they got to?” Mason asked.

He shrugged. “It would only take one if he or she had the right personality. But I’m guessing it was probably more than one. All you have to find is a juror with a kid. Threaten the kid, and get the juror to do anything you want.”

“Then we need to talk to the jurors,” Carly stated.

He shot her a wry look. “If you think it would do any good. We already know who was doing the threatening, but yeah, we’ll send a report in and let the proper authorities take care of it.” His jaw hardened. “Can’t hurt to have one more charge to bring against the de Lugos.”

“All right, we need to get you into a secured area.” Mason shoved his gun in his shoulder holster. “Right now, that’s going to be your home. How many people live there?”

“There’s six of us right now. My housekeeper, Stella, and her husband, Carl, a nanny, Debbie, myself and the children.”

“Two marshals will stay on the children as they go to and from school. You might want to consider letting the nanny go for her own safety.”

“Fine. What about Stella? She’s trained to defend herself.”

Carly remembered the woman from the last time she’d been in his home. “She’s an ex-police officer. Her husband is the groundskeeper, right?”

“Right. She’s the niece of my mother’s best friend. She was wounded in the line of duty and took an early retirement. By the time she’d recovered, Mom decided she couldn’t handle the housework anymore and asked Stella if she’d be interested in doing it. She wanted someone she knew and trusted and didn’t want to go to all the trouble of interviews, etcetera. I didn’t think Stella’d be interested, but fortunately for us, she jumped on it. She said she needed something to keep her busy, but I think she enjoyed being around us and the children since she couldn’t have any of her own. She and her husband, Carl, live in the mother-in-law suite attached to the house. To ask them to leave would really put them out.”

“They can stay as long as they understand the dangers.”

Nicholas rubbed his eyes. “I’ll give them the option of moving into a hotel at my expense, although I don’t know what they would do with their two dogs.”

Mason raised a brow. “Dogs are good. They bark.”

“True. In this new house, I had the security system upgraded with motion sensors and security cameras. Plus, I had a wrought-iron fence installed. And all of this in a gated community.”

“What else?” Carly urged.

“It’s an electric fence. If anyone tries to go over it, they’ll get a pretty nasty shock. That’s about it.”

“It’s better than a lot we’ve worked with in the past.” Thank goodness. The thought of Nicholas or one of the children ending up dead sent shivers of fear all over her. The thought of being around Nick 24/7 made her stomach clench, too, although she wasn’t sure if it was from dread or the pull of attraction she couldn’t deny feeling.

She shrugged off her feelings. Time to do her job. “All right, let’s get going.” Carly held up the paper bag with the second letter. “I’m just going to turn this over to the crime-scene guys. Then we can get out of here.”



Two minutes later, they were on the road. Carly drove the unmarked police car and Mason followed behind in Nicholas’s car. He watched Carly’s slender fingers grip the wheel.

When she’d invaded his home two years ago, just a few months before his wife’s death, they’d butted heads on the protection issue yet Carly in his home brought a certain peace to the household that had been distinctly absent before her arrival.

His wife, Miriam, had basically closed herself in their bedroom and become a hermit for the duration of Carly and her partner’s stay. It had been a relief, he remembered with guilt. Miriam had changed in their six years of marriage, depression stealing her sweet, happy-go-lucky personality away from him.

She’d wanted a baby, and they hadn’t been able to have one. The fact that no doctor could tell them why just compounded the problem. His home life had started to unravel and quickly became unbearable. And while Nick never thought he would consider divorce, he had to admit it had crossed his mind in the weeks before Miriam had been killed.

Then the marshals had arrived. He smiled at the irony. He hadn’t wanted the marshals at that point in time any more than he wanted them this time.

But then he thought about the nights they’d sat up talking, the three of them; Carly, Mason and himself. A friendship had formed. Since then, he and Mason had gotten together for the occasional game of racquetball or met up at the high school football stadium to watch the local teams go at it.

He hadn’t seen Carly since they’d found out the threats had been a hoax. But that hadn’t kept him from keeping up with her.

Through Mason, and frequent chats with Ian, Carly’s brother and Nick’s former college roommate, Nick had gotten snatches of what her life had been like over the last two years.

He also knew that she blamed him for something he’d had no control over. He’d let a killer go. The one who’d ended up murdering Hank, a good friend of hers. His stomach twisted itself in knots every time he thought about it. He didn’t have to wonder what she thought of him.

He could read the wariness in her eyes. The borderline contempt she tried to hide.

And yet, because he knew the kind of person she was, he had no doubt she would do her job to the death for him if it came to it.

He vowed it wouldn’t.

Lord, let me get a chance to explain why I had to let that man go. Please. And let her understand.

“Why did you move from the house at the beach?”

Her question seemed to come out of left field as he shook off his thoughts. “Because we all needed a change.” He pictured the large, sprawling estate and felt a pang of nostalgia. “I loved that house, but I built it for my wife. When she and my sister were killed…” He shrugged and sighed. “Plus the children had to ride past the accident site every day on their way to school.”

“How did they even know where it happened?”

“Lindsey was having nightmares about it. The therapist suggested taking her to the site and placing a memorial there. We built a little cross and put her mother’s name on it, and I let her pound it into the ground. She seemed to get a little better almost overnight.”

“But?”

“As time passed, it continued to affect them. Especially Lindsey. She’d do better, then worse, constantly back and forth. If there’d been another route to the school, I would have taken it, but there wasn’t. I suggested changing schools, and Lindsey completely freaked at the idea, so…” He shrugged again. “Then Mom left for California…” A deep breath. “When my buddy Wayne encouraged me to come back to Spartanburg so we’d have some support, it seemed like the right thing to do. With my sister gone, I became an only child and didn’t have any close family around, so we moved.” He turned the tables on her. “Why do you do this?”

She shot him a startled look. “What? My job?”

“Yes.”

She blinked then focused back on the road. “Because I like it.”

“I know a lot of your family is in law enforcement. But why did you choose it?”

A faint smile curved her lips, and he wondered what they’d feel like. The thought came out of nowhere, and he quickly put on the mental brakes.

Someone was threatening him.

It was Carly’s job to protect him.

End of story.

“I don’t know. I never had any major catastrophe in my life or anything that pushed me toward this kind of career. But I grew up with it. It’s what I know. I suppose it was a natural choice with Ian being in the army and my dad being a cop. He was just so satisfied every time he put a bad guy in jail. It was literally the highlight of his day. That really influenced me.” She smiled at him. “He retired a couple of years ago.”

“Ah, so that’s why.”

She shrugged. “It probably had a lot to do with it. But I just really like the job.”

“Then why don’t you want to do it?”



Carly nearly swerved off the road. Instead, she took a moment to gather her composure and said, “Why would you say that?”

“I get the feeling that you don’t want to be here. With me.”

She bit her lip. How to explain? Should she even bother explaining? And how had he picked up on that, anyway? Had she gotten that bad at hiding her feelings?

But he was trained to read people. And he’d read her like a first-grade primer.

Squaring her jaw, she shot him a look. “Your feelings are wrong.” Sort of. Actually, they were dead-on. “I want to do my job. I will do my job, no matter what it takes, got it?”

He remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching for things she’d rather keep hidden. “Do your feelings have anything to do with the fact that I let Richie Hardin go and he killed your friend Hank?”

Bingo.

She blinked and did her best to cover her initial impulse to blurt out “yes!” Instead, she took a deep breath and said in a low voice. “That’s irrelevant to what I have to do here with you. I don’t want to talk about Hank’s death or the cause of it.”

“Sooner or later, we’re going to have to, I think.”

“I don’t know why. It has nothing to do with my ability to do my job. I’ll do mine, you do yours. Put the bad guys away instead of letting them walk, and everyone wins.”

“Carly…” He sighed, and she saw him struggle with whatever it was he wanted to say. “Fine. But we will discuss it. Soon. Just don’t let your negative feelings for me or my judicial decisions put my family in danger.”

His words sent a shaft of pain through her. Did he really think she would be that unprofessional and allow that to happen? For a moment, she couldn’t speak. She just pulled into the gated drive and waited for Mason to pull in behind her in Nicholas’s car and use the remote to open the gate.

Soon the iron gates began their inward swing. Carly stepped on the gas and wound her way up the drive to the front of the house and parked behind the brown sedan that belonged to the two marshals inside. Instead of opening her door, she swallowed hard and turned to look at Nicholas.

He unhooked his seat belt and caught her gaze. When she was certain she had his full attention, she said, “I’m a professional. I’ll do my job regardless of my feelings. If it comes down to it, I’ll die for you or those children. Are we clear?”

He lifted a brow, then gave a slow nod. “Crystal. In fact, now you’ve got me a little worried. I don’t want you to die for me, Carly.”

She gave him a tight smile. “I don’t want to, either. But I will if it comes down to it. That’s all you have to know.”

End of discussion.

Carly climbed from the car and swept the grounds with a practiced eye. Everything seemed quiet. She drew in a deep breath of air and got her bearings. She could do this. It’s what she’d trained for, lived for…and would someday probably die for.

But right now, Nicholas and the children were counting on her.

Then the front door opened and two marshals stepped outside. She recognized them as a team she’d worked with on a number of occasions. “Grady. Maria.”

Mason shook hands with them. Grady, a tall, trim man with salt-and-pepper hair, spoke. “Everything’s quiet. One of us has done a perimeter sweep every fifteen minutes. The dogs have been calm, and nothing has set off any alarms.”

Carly motioned for Nicholas to go into the house, worried about him standing out in the open. She might have a problem respecting him, but she sure didn’t want him dead.

He nodded and moved to stand inside the doorway, off to the left. Out of sight of anyone watching the house, but not out of earshot. She knew he wanted to hear every word the four marshals might exchange.

Maria came from a long line of cops. Stocky and short, she was light on her feet in spite of her build. Maria was good at her job and didn’t let anything get in the way of her goal: to keep her assignment alive.

“The kids are good kids,” Maria said. “Better watch that girl, though. I have a feeling she might be a handful. We’ll be back tomorrow. Let us know if you need anything before then.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

Carly and Mason said their goodbyes to Grady and Maria and followed Nicholas farther into the house. She shut the door and glanced around.

Nice.

Not extravagant, but definitely upper middle class. She’d done her homework on the man but remembered her brother Ian telling her that Nicholas had designed a video game that made him a lot of money before he’d even graduated college.

He probably could have gone into the gaming business and become a multimillionaire, but his passion was the law. And he’d succeeded there, too.

For the most part.

When he wasn’t letting violent criminals out to kill good cops. Hank and Lily, two people who’d become good friends. Hank who had taught her everything she knew. And now he was dead, and Lily a grieving widow. Her gut tightened at the thought, and she pulled in a deep breath. Don’t go there, Carly, or you’ll go crazy. Keep your objectivity. Remember, you don’t know the whole story.

But she knew enough. Enough to know she’d better keep her guard up and her emotions under control when it came to Nicholas Floyd.

“Debbie? You in here?” Nick called as he walked into the den area.

“I’m right here, Nick.”

Carly turned at the intrusion of the feminine voice. A pretty young woman in her late twenties stood at the entrance to the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She had her reddish-brown hair pulled up in an attractive loose ponytail. She stopped when she saw Carly and Mason. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize we were having more company.”

“These are two more U.S. Marshals, Deb.” His dark gaze swept back to Carly. “This is Debbie Thomas, the children’s nanny.”

“For now.” Debbie flashed a smile and held out a hand that Carly and Mason took turns shaking. “I’m filling in until Nick finds a permanent one.” She flushed and said, “I have to confess I was just popping some popcorn for the kids. I know it’s close to dinnertime, but…”

Carly just noticed the mouthwatering smell of freshly popped popcorn. It reminded her she hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

Nicholas gave a small smile, a mere twitch of his lips, then said, “That’s fine, Debbie. A little popcorn before dinner won’t hurt them.” The he blew out a rough sigh. “Since Mom left to take care of her sister in California, I haven’t had the time or energy to look for someone to…” He shot the young woman an apologetic look.

Debbie patted the man’s arm. “It’s all right, Nick.”

Watching the interchange, Carly couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more between the two than a business arrangement. The little twinge of jealousy took her by surprise.

Oh, no, there was no way she was jealous. She wasn’t remotely interested in starting any kind of relationship, especially not with an assignment. Period.

Kicking those feelings as far to the curb as she could get them, she pulled out her notebook. “All right, let’s go over some ground rules, shall we?”

“Are they the same rules as last time?” he asked.

She couldn’t help the small smile that curved the right side of her lips. “Yes, pretty much.”

“Then I think I’m covered.”

Mason stepped forward. “Where are the kids?”

Debbie answered, “In the playroom upstairs. They’re watching a movie.”

“Hence the popcorn.” Nicholas scrubbed a hand over his face and waved them all into the den area. “Have a seat. Deb, you take the popcorn up to the kids, and I’ll fill you in on anything you need to know in a little bit. We’ll have dinner in about an hour, all right?”

Consternation flashed briefly in her pretty eyes. Then she shrugged. “Fine. Mrs. Jefferson left a roast with vegetables cooking in the Crock-pot. There’s plenty to feed everyone.” She sent a smile in Mason and Carly’s direction. “Nice meeting you.” Then she was gone, whirling away in a scented cloud of popcorn and some fruity perfume that made Carly’s nose itch.

Mason looked at Carly. “I know Maria and Grady checked out the house, the windows and everything, but I’d feel better giving it a once-over myself. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, and Mason headed up the stairs.

The duo left behind sat on the couch, and Carly looked at Nicholas. “Is there any way you would consider recusing yourself from this trial?”

“Absolutely not. I refuse to give in to scare tactics, threats, whatever. I don’t operate that way.”

Carly wasn’t surprised by his answer. “Then we’re going to have to figure out the best way to keep everyone safe until this trial is over.”




THREE


While Mason secured the house, Carly watched the interactions of Nicholas and his niece and nephew. Lindsey, twelve, stood almost as tall as Carly. The quiet girl was reed thin, with blue eyes that saw everything.

She hadn’t been nearly as welcoming as her seven-year-old brother, Christopher, who’d given her a high five and invited her to his room to see his fish. “I gotta have fish,” he explained. “I’m ’lergic to cats, and I can’t play with the dogs. I have asthma, too. The fish don’t bother my lungs.”

Asthma. She made a mental note of the fact.

“I thought you guys were watching a movie and stuffing yourselves on popcorn so you could sit down at dinner and say you’re not hungry,” Nick teased.

Christopher gave a belly laugh. Lindsey had the art of eye rolling down perfect, and she seemed to feel the need to display it at every opportunity.

Five minutes after meeting Lindsey, Carly discovered her outlook on life consisted of a combination of waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop and roll-your-eyes-at-anything-an-adult-says attitude.

To make things easier on Carly and Mason, the Jeffersons had moved into the main house with their two dogs. They’d declined the hotel room. The second-floor guest room was a compromise.

Debbie moved into the room at the end of the hall. She seemed to take everything in stride. “I’ve been in this situation before with Dad.” A hand batted at the air. “It’s usually no big deal. He’s gotten threats before, and nothing happened. So I’m not leaving when the children need me. That would just be one more inconsistency in their lives. And we have protection, right?”

Carly stared at her. “Are you sure? This could be a tense few days before the trial starts.” Even the fact that a man had been murdered as a message to her boss only caused a minor hesitation in the young woman.

She bit her lip, eyes darting between Carly and Mason, then back to Nicholas. Her jaw firmed. “No, I’m staying.”

“Great, more people in this house.” Lindsey rolled her eyes.

Nick shot her a look. “Watch it, Linds.”

The girl clenched her jaw and stomped toward the stairs.

Debbie frowned and went after her.

Christopher slipped a small hand into Carly’s and looked up at her with a gap-toothed grin. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She patted his head and knelt down on his level to grin back at him. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” She stood then looked at Nicholas. “It’s my turn to check the grounds.”

“Come on, kiddo.” He motioned for his nephew to transfer his hand from Carly’s to his. “Let’s go see if dinner’s going to be ready soon. I’m starving.”

After a quiet and tense meal, Debbie retired to her room at the end of the hall. Nick saw the children off to bed, and Carly walked the perimeter of the house one more time, her nerves stretched taut. Right now, she could relate to Lindsey’s waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop mentality.

It was too quiet. Yet the silence seemed loud. Filled with expectation, anticipation—waiting.

But for what?

Nothing good, that was for sure.

She shivered even as sweat broke out across her forehead.

The darkness pressed in, although the floodlights illuminated her path. The night smelled of dogwood and honeysuckle. She walked the darkened edge, not wanting to make herself a target should anyone be watching from beyond the fence.

The two dogs, she’d learned, were retired police K-9s the Jeffersons had adopted after Stella Jefferson’s departure from the force. Carly had made friends with them, then turned them loose.

Pushing the earpiece deeper into her ear, she said, “All’s clear out here.”

“We’re settled in here,” Mason’s voice came back to her. “You want first watch?”

“Sure. What about the kids? Do they seem all right?”

“Yeah. Well, Christopher and I are big buds now. The girl…um…not so much.”

“I noticed that, too. They’ve had so much upheaval in their young lives…”

“I know. Just FYI, our judge is armed.”

She stopped just on the edge of the light, her eyes scanning the darkness even as her brain processed the conversation. “Excuse me?”

“He got his gun from a safe and loaded it.”

Carly thought about that for a minute then said slowly, “Well, he’s had the training. He knows how to use it.”

“Yeah, that was my take on it.”

“Then, good. I think.”

The floodlights clicked off. Her heart kicked up a notch as she froze. “Mason, did you do that?”

A quiet beat stretched between them. Then he said in a low voice. “No. The lights went off in here, too. Call for help and get in here.”

The other shoe had just dropped—with a bang.



Nick had just pointedly told Lindsey to get ready for bed. “And could you please lose the attitude? They’re here to help us.” He wouldn’t admit he wished he could throw a temper tantrum himself about the whole situation. But that wasn’t going to help anything.

Another eye roll. “Right.”

Frustration bit at him. Ever since her mother and aunt had been killed, Lindsey’s personality had done a one-eighty. She used to be so sweet, laughing at his silly attempts to bring a smile to her face, offering hugs with guileless spontaneity.

Then her mother and aunt died, and the bottom had dropped out of her world. Her grandmother leaving hadn’t helped the situation, either. Nick understood why his mom felt she had to leave. There simply wasn’t anyone else to take care of his aunt. But tell that to Lindsey.

With a sigh, he studied his niece’s mutinous expression and supposed she was coping the only way she knew how.

Then the lights went out.

Frustration morphed into concern, then outright fear as he realized what was happening.

“Lindsey, get over here.” He pressed the button on his iPhone to illuminate the room. The glow caught her startled, fearful expression.

“Why?” she demanded.

He strode to her and grasped her wrist in a light grip. “The power just went out, and I don’t know why yet. Stay with me and head to Christopher’s room.”

“I’ve got him.” Carly’s voiced reached out to him a few moments later in the dark. “Everyone stay together while we get to the safe area.”

An area she could defend, he thought. Drawing in a calming breath, he said, “The laundry room would be best. No windows and only one way in.”

“Good job. I’d already picked that place myself. We don’t have much time. The alarm wasn’t tripped, and without power it won’t be.”

“Yes, it will. I have a generator that kicks in for the alarm system. And the laundry room is off the kitchen.”

“You and the kids get in there.”

“Get my dog, Uncle Nick,” Christopher cried suddenly. “Pepper. I don’t want the bad people to get him!”

Carly shot him a look. “Dog?”

“A stuffed animal he sleeps with.” He placed a hand on Christopher’s head. “He’s safe and sound, tucked under your bed last time I saw him, okay?” Then he looked at Carly. “What about Debbie and the Jeffersons?” No way was he going to tuck his tail and run when people he cared about were in danger.

“Mason has them.” She spoke into her radio. “Meet us in the kitchen.” To Nicholas, she said, “Follow me and stay away from the windows.”

As they descended the slightly curved staircase, the sound of barking reached his ears. “The dogs aren’t happy. Someone’s on the grounds.”

“Or somewhere around the fence. I wish you had some closer neighbors who’d check out all the racket.”

The barking escalated.

A shadow passed the bay window in the den. “They’re outside the house,” he whispered. Lindsey clutched his hand, the sullen preteen now a scared young girl. Both children remained silent, eyes wide, breaths rasping. She noted Christopher seemed to be wheezing a little. “Do you have his inhaler?”

“In my pocket.” Nicholas fumbled in the front pocket of his jeans.

His heart thudded, not so much in fear for himself as for the kids and his staff. And the marshals. Most specifically, Carly.

God, please don’t let anyone get hurt. I know she’s skilled in her job, but I can’t live with someone else I know dying…

Her right hand gripped Christopher’s; her left curled around the gun. She motioned them left at the bottom of the steps, across the den and into the kitchen. She opened the laundry-room door and said, “All right. In you go. Lock it behind you.”

Thankfully, he’d installed the lock on the laundry-room door when the kids had come to live with him. He hadn’t wanted Christopher to accidentally get into the household supplies he kept in there.

Although if someone was determined to get in, neither the door nor the lock would hold against a swift kick with a booted foot.

Nick felt the weight of his weapon pressing against his lower back and itched to pull it out. Why hadn’t the alarm gone off? Then he realized that he hadn’t heard the generator kick in.

Lips pressed into a thin line, he motioned the kids in. Mason, Debbie and the Jeffersons appeared next to him. He reached across the counter and grabbed the telephone.

Dead.

Grimly, he reported, “No power and no generator for some reason. Phone line’s been cut, too.”

“Great,” Mason muttered.

“Get in,” Nick urged. Debbie led the way. The children immediately attached themselves to her side. Nick handed the inhaler to her, and she passed it to Christopher, who stuck it in his mouth for a good puff. His eyes pleaded with Nick as he whined, “I want Pepper.”

Nick rubbed his head. “I’ll go get him in just a minute, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. You just concentrate on breathing, okay?”

Christopher gave a reluctant nod. The Jeffersons entered the room, and Nicholas shut the door.

Carly looked at him. “What are you doing? Get in there.”

He narrowed his eyes on her and pulled his gun from the back of his waistband. “Not a chance.”

“This is what we’re here for, remember?” she protested.

Mason motioned toward the front of the house. “No time to argue. Judge, you stay back and out of sight if you can. Use the gun if necessary.”

“You’re not making this any easier.” Carly’s nose flared as she shot him a look mixed with anger and fear. Nicholas understood her anger, wondered at her fear.

“This is my fight,” he insisted. “I won’t deny I might need help, but I refuse to sit on the sidelines while somebody else fights it.”



Carly bit her lip and forced aside visions of him lying in a pool of blood.

Her gut clenched and a protest hovered on her lips. Then a loud crash came from just ahead. Carly stepped in front of Nicholas and pointed her gun in the direction of the sound. “Freeze!”

Running footsteps sounded. The flash of a large shadow darted around a corner. Nicholas brushed past her and took off in pursuit. Mason ran the other way, and Carly knew he was looking to cut off the intruder.

She counted one person inside the house.

But how many were outside?

Sirens sounded in the distance. Help was on the way. She hoped the approaching authorities would scare off whoever was on the property. The dogs were barking like crazy. How had the intruders gotten past them?

Carly followed Nicholas, determined to back up whatever he was doing. She’d hold on to the tongue-lashing she wanted to give him until after everyone was safe.

Rounding the corner, she pulled up short. Nicholas had his back up against the side of the house, his gun held steady, aiming into the dark. “What is it?”

“Two of them ran toward the woods.”

Carly radioed it in. A police helicopter would head their way. They’d also notify the authorities to be on the lookout for cars coming from this direction.

“Carly!”

Mason. She motioned for Nicholas to follow her back into the house. Police now swarmed the property. Mason stood in the den area talking to several officers and barking out orders.

“What is it, Mason?”

Her partner looked up as she walked in. “He—or they—got away, but one of the dogs snagged this.”

With a gloved hand, he held up a piece of fabric. Carly wrinkled her nose. “What is it?”

“A piece of a shirt, I think.” In his other latex-covered hand, he held up wire cutters. “We’ll have the lab test this for prints, but I don’t think they’ll get anything. Whoever is after Nick is smart and they’d have had gloves on. It’s a no-brainer.”

“Still, we’ve got to try. We might get pleasantly surprised and catch a break.”

Mason grunted his disagreement as he set the two pieces of evidence aside to be taken to the lab, but didn’t argue. She knew he secretly hoped she was right.

Nicholas ran his fingers through his already tousled hair and sighed. “Why didn’t the generator kick in when they cut the power? And how did they get past the dogs?”

“The dogs were maced,” Mason informed them. “They came prepared to take the dogs out. As for the generator, I checked on that. It’s been dismantled.” Mason paced from one end of the den back to them.

“How?” Nicholas snapped. “It’s in a closed area that blends in with the house. How would they know where to find it?”

Carly drew in a deep breath and shared a glance with Mason, who said, “Our intruders did their homework. They’ve probably been doing it ever since they found out you were going to be sitting on the case. These guys are good, professional killers.” He sighed and rubbed his chin. “But why strike here? Professional killers prefer to work from a distance. Why didn’t they shoot you instead of Harrison Frasier?”

Carly sighed. “Good point. Unless,” she pondered, “they don’t really care if you’re dead or not. They just want you off the case. If they can scare you off, why bother to kill you?” She threw her hands into the air. “Who knows? I do know this—we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Nicholas shot her a ferocious frown. A hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, and Carly’s palms actually itched with the sudden impulse to massage the tension from his shoulders.

Get a grip, she ordered herself and curled her traitorous hands into fists. She stepped forward and placed a hand on Nicholas’s arm almost before she thought about what she was doing.

Footsteps sounded and Carly jumped back, but not before Nick’s frown softened and his eyes glinted with something she wasn’t able to put a label on.

Lindsey rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around her uncle’s waist. Christopher grabbed a leg and held on. His breathing seemed much better, Carly noticed.

Nicholas placed a hand on each of the children’s shoulders and reassured them with pats and hugs. “Everything’s fine, kids. Go on up and get in your beds. I know it’s going to be almost impossible to sleep, but you try for now.” He shot a pleading look at Debbie. “I know you’re not on duty at night, but do you think…”

“I’ll take care of them.” Debbie stepped forward and held out her hands. “Come on, Chris, let’s go make sure Pepper’s all right and give him a big hug.” Christopher eyes brightened, but he still gave one last lingering glance at his uncle before following Debbie to the stairs. “Can I jump on the bed, Debbie?”

The woman gave a low chuckle. “Maybe just a few bounces.”

Lindsey seemed to have found her attitude again and glared at him. “Why don’t you just drop the stupid case so we can have our lives back?”

With that parting shot, she turned on her heel, shoving past Debbie and Christopher.

“Lindsey…” Nick’s voice trailed off when he realized his niece had no intention of heeding his call. With a sigh, he shut his eyes and stood without moving for several seconds. Carly knew he was wondering if he should go after her or not, and her heart ached for him.

She offered him her unsolicited advice, keeping her voice low and trying to offer encouragement. “Give her some space. She’ll be all right.”

Although why she wanted to make him feel better was beyond her. How many hours had she lain awake thinking about her mentor, Hank, who had been cut down coming out of his granddaughter’s ballet recital? How many times had she railed at the heavens for placing a judge on the bench who didn’t care that he was releasing a monster back into the world?

And yet…she felt something for him. Her traitorous heart kept wondering if maybe she had things skewed. Maybe she didn’t know all the facts about that case.

“I know,” Nick finally said. “She’s just had it so rough for so long—and now this.”

A loud thump sounded from upstairs, and Carly started, her hand on her gun. Mason took up guard next to Nick.

“It’s just Christopher,” Nick said, holding up a hand to stop her progress.

She paused. “What do you mean?”

A guilty flush started appeared on his face. “Um…he likes to jump on the bed, and I let him…sometimes.”

“That was a pretty loud thump.”

“Yeah, he likes to put his beanbags on the floor and…” Another thump sounded, and Carly flinched.

“…jump from the bed to the beanbags,” she finished for him.

He shrugged. “Yep.”

“Okay. That’s good information to have. However—” she looked at Mason “—why don’t you go check to make sure?” He nodded and left. Carly paced to the kitchen and back then shot a glance at Nick. “That’s sweet of you to let him do something most parents would yell about.”

Another guilty flush appeared, and he looked away. Inspiration hit her. “You do it, too, don’t you?”

He raised a brow, going for the innocent look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, no, you don’t, Nicholas Floyd, you don’t fool me.” She shook a finger at him. “Not only do you do it, too, I bet you taught him!”

Nick shoved his hands into his pockets, and Carly swore he was hiding a grin. “Well, I…”

Carly crossed her arms and put on her stern look. “Come on, Judge, how do you plead?”

He let out a sigh and the little-boy look on his face tugged at her heartstrings. “Guilty as charged, ma’am.”

Carly felt her heart thaw about ten degrees. She sobered and looked into his eyes, thought about asking him about the murderer he’d let go. No not now, she decided.

Nicholas placed a hand on her arm, and she felt the touch clear to her toes. She turned a questioning look at him, as he said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For not giving me a hard time about not hiding out and leaving the bad guys to you.”

Crossing her arms over her middle, Carly zeroed in on his eyes. “Yeah, about that. We’re going to have to have a little heart-to-heart about some of those rules we kind of skipped over earlier.”




FOUR


Nick raised a brow. “Let me check on the kids, and then we can talk.” He didn’t really need to check on them. He knew Debbie would take good care of them; however, their frightened faces wouldn’t leave his mind, and he needed to spend a little time reassuring them.

Carly nodded, and he headed upstairs to find Debbie sitting on the bed with Christopher in her lap. “I’ll take it from here.”

Debbie smiled and kissed the top of the boy’s head then scooted out from under him. “’Night, Chris.”

“’Night, Debbie.”

Nick placed a hand on her arm and said, “I appreciate your help. But I think it might be best if you went home until all of this is resolved.”

“But Nick…”

“I mean it, Debbie. I don’t want you in danger. Tonight just proved that these guys don’t care who’s around when they come after me. It’s not safe.”

She chewed her bottom lip, and her brows dipped in a hesitant frown. She glanced at Christopher then back at Nick. “All right, maybe you’re right. I guess—”

“No! No, she can’t leave!”

The cry came from the bed as Christopher shot straight up in protest.

Running feet sounded on the steps from outside the room. Nick stepped out of the bedroom and saw Carly at the landing, gun drawn. He waved her down and turned back to Christopher.

Grabbing the little boy up in his arms, he hugged him. Christopher snagged him around the neck and squeezed. “Please don’t make her leave, Uncle Nick, please.”

Nick’s heart nearly ruptured with a love so intense he had to close his eyes to gain control of his voice. Finally he said, “It’s okay, Christopher. I’ve got you.”

Still keeping his arms looped around his uncle’s neck, Christopher pulled back to look into Nick’s eyes. “I want Miss Debbie to stay. I need her. She makes me not be so scared.”

“Nick…” Debbie laid a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced up into her beseeching eyes. She licked her lips and said, “Let me stay. The kids have had enough.” She looked at Carly standing in the door and taking in the scene. “We’ve got protection. The kids need me….”

Nick pulled in a deep breath and shot a glance at Carly. She lifted a brow and gave a shrug as though to say it was up to him.

Debbie said, “And anyway, if they knew enough to find the generator, they probably know that I’m the nanny. They probably know a lot more than we think. What if they’ve been watching…” She paused and drew in a deep breath, her eyes cutting to the children. “If I leave, will they come after me even though I wouldn’t technically be employed here anymore?”

Carly rubbed her nose and looked at Nick. He blinked. “That’s a good question. What do you think, Carly?”

“I think she’s probably right. Her safest place might just be right here.”

Christopher relaxed against him. “Then she’s staying, right?”

Nick kissed the freckled cheek. “Yeah, little man, it looks like she’s staying.”

“Good. I can go to sleep now.”

Nicholas tucked the child in and escorted the two ladies from the room. Once back downstairs, he looked at Carly and said, “The only way to stop these people is not to give in to them. If I hand this case over to Debbie’s father, I’m just going to be passing the danger on to him. Or anyone else who takes it.”

“But it would take the danger off the kids, Nick. My dad isn’t afraid. He’d do it for your kids.” Debbie’s soft voice penetrated his muddled thoughts.

“They’re not after the kids. They’re after me.”

“What if the kids get caught in the crossfire?” Debbie persisted. Carly stayed quiet, and he couldn’t tell what she thought.

Maybe Debbie was right. Even though the children hadn’t been openly threatened, who knew if that would change?

“What if I sent them away? Somewhere safe?”

Carly frowned at him. “Where would you send them?”

Before he could answer, a low voice said, “No. I don’t want to be sent anywhere.”

Nick closed his eyes then opened them and turned to see Lindsey standing on the top stair, staring down at them. Her attitude was gone. In its place was a scared little girl. Lower lip trembling, she begged, “Don’t send us away, Uncle Nick. We’ll be safe with you.”

Nick bit back a groan and resisted the urge to grab his hair in both fists. What to do? Usually, decisions came easily to him. But this…the safety of the kids, the integrity of the case…

What should he do?

“I don’t think it would help to send them away,” Carly said. “There’s no guarantee they wouldn’t be followed or tracked down.” She shook her head. “No, it’s best they stay here where we can keep an eye on them. Besides—” she lowered her voice “—you and Debbie are their security right now. I don’t think it would be a good idea to take that away. Like you said, you’re the target, not them.”

Nick breathed a sigh of relief, and Lindsey shot Carly a grateful look.

He hated to admit he hadn’t wanted to be the one to make the decision. Uproot them and send them away and disrupt their young lives once more—even more so than having two U.S. Marshals move in—and have danger track them down. Or keep them here where danger might be just around the corner.

No, not a decision he was comfortable with either way.

He said, “If you can keep them safe, I’d prefer they stay here.”

She looked him in the eye. “Whoever is after you will have to go through me to get to them.”

Nicholas wasn’t surprised at Carly’s calm declaration. No, he was startled by his own reaction—that if it came down to her being in the line of fire, he’d make sure he was around to get her out of the way.



That settled, Carly swept past everyone and into the nearest bathroom off the kitchen. She fought the swirl of nausea in the pit of her stomach and gripped the sides of the sink.

She’d just promised to keep Lindsey and Christopher safe, and she had no idea who had just breached their defenses. Who? How? And what was she going to do about it?

She wanted to pray, ask for guidance, strength and protection, and yet she no longer felt that God was a resource for her. After Hank, her partner, mentor and friend, had been killed so senselessly, she’d thrown her hands up and told God she was done with Him because He never seemed to intervene when it was most needed. So why bother with Him?

“Why bother?” she whispered.

Turning on the cold water, she cupped her hands and splashed her face. Using the lightly scented hand towel, she dried off and stared at herself in the mirror. “You can do this,” she whispered. “You don’t need God or anyone else. This is your job. You’re good at it. So do it.” She narrowed her eyes. “And no romantic feelings for the judge, got it?”

Unfortunately, she didn’t think her heart was listening.

The knock on the door startled her, and she called, “Be right there.”

With one more look in the mirror, she decided she was presentable. She opened the door to find her partner on the phone. He hung up and asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

Curiosity lit his eyes, and for a moment she thought he was going to ask more questions, but he didn’t, just shrugged and motioned her out of the bathroom.

“Is everything okay?” Nick asked from the doorway of the kitchen.

Carly forced a smile. “Everything’s fine. Are you ready to go over some of those rules?”

“Sure.” He gestured to one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Mason said, “While you two do that, I’m going to patrol the grounds one more time.”

He left, and Carly sat on the cushioned seat. She leaned back into the wood slats that made up the back of the chair. “First of all, are the kids asleep?”

“Yes, from what I can tell. Debbie said she’d keep an eye on them for the next hour or so.”

“Okay, I’m thinking it might be a good idea to keep them home from school until all this is over.”

Nick frowned. “Don’t you have two other marshals on them?”

“Yes, Maria and Grady.”

He shook his head and reached up to rub a hand across his lips as he thought. “No, as long as it’s safe, they need the consistency. I’ll drive them to school tomorrow, and Maria and Grady can stay on them like flypaper.”

“Uh, I hate to tell you this, but you won’t be driving anyone anywhere.”

“Fine, you can, but I’m going with them.”

“Nick, stop and think a minute….”

He lasered her with an unwavering stare. “I mean it. They’d go nuts around here with nothing to do but worry about whether or not someone is going to kill me. They’re not the targets—I am.” He thought for a moment. “If they’re separate from me, they may be safe, right?”

“Yes. That’s why sending them away would be a good thing in that sense. Yet Lindsey’s reaction to that suggestion was very strong. Until it becomes a matter of us feeling unable to keep them safe in your presence, then…”

He blew out a sigh and looked at the ceiling. “All right. I’ll agree to riding behind in a separate car, but I want to see them safely delivered. Plus, I need to have a few words with their teachers.”

She wasn’t going to change his mind. She’d convince him later that he didn’t need to talk to the teachers. The marshals would take care of that. For now, she let the subject drop instead of arguing with the man.

Stubborn man. Likeable man. Strangely admirable man. Her brain flashed a yellow caution sign. Was that respect she was feeling for him? But what about Hank’s killer? The one he’d set free….

Emotions twisting inside her like a balloon in a windstorm, she bit her lip. She sighed. “Fine. Then I’ll be driving.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “I figured.”

Her heart stuttered in response, and she cleared her throat and debated whether or not to say what she was thinking.

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

A flush started at the base of her neck. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks then decided to be honest. “I’m…torn. On the one hand, it’s good to see you again, Nick. Then again, it’s not. Two years ago, I thought I’d made a friend in you. I respected you. Then when you let Hank’s killer off on a technicality… I have to admit, I’m struggling with that one.”

Nicholas sat back, stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. He looked down at the table then back up to meet her eyes. “I wondered when you’d feel like talking about it.”

“I don’t really feel like it, but maybe we should.”

He reached over and grasped her hand in his. Almost absently, he twined his fingers through hers. Bolts of awareness shot through her, and she swallowed hard. Why was she so attracted to this man? She didn’t remember this feeling from two years ago. Of course, he had been married then… She would never let herself have any feelings toward a married man. Now, however, it seemed there was some kind of pull between them.

He was saying, “It wasn’t something I wanted to do, Carly. You have to know that. When Ritchie Hardin appeared in my court that first time for armed robbery, I was ready to put him away for a long time. But his lawyer had irrefutable evidence that the police had messed up the case. I didn’t want to let Hardin go, but my hands were tied.”

With a finger on her free hand, she tapped her forehead. “I think I know that here.” She moved her finger to touch the area above her heart. “It’s here that’s having the trouble. Hank taught me so much about being a good marshal, it just tears me up inside that he died because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She shook her head. “If he just hadn’t walked into that store the day you released Hardin, Hardin wouldn’t have been able to follow him to his granddaughter’s ballet recital…” She blew out a breath. “It’s just wrong.” She palmed a tear, then looked away to compose herself.

He nodded then offered a small sad smile. “I know. I agree with you.” A moment of silence, then, “For the record, it’s good to see you again, too. I’ve often thought of our late-night chats from two years ago.”

“Really?” That surprised her. She would have thought he’d have been relieved to be rid of her. He hadn’t been keen on the idea of protection in the first place. His wife had practically disappeared into the bedroom while she and Mason had been in their house.

“Absolutely,” he said. “I’m sure you could tell my marriage wasn’t exactly…um…perfect.”

Uncomfortable, wondering where he was going with this line of conversation, Carly shifted. But didn’t pull her hand from his. And he didn’t let it go. “Yeah, I kind of got that feeling.”

“We’d been fighting for days. You see, Miriam desperately wanted a child. And we just couldn’t get pregnant in spite of doing everything medically possible. I told her I was done with doctors and treatments and wanted to talk about adoption. She was furious, wouldn’t listen to a word I had to say. She finally decided on the silent treatment a couple of hours before your arrival.”





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