Книга - Baby On The Run

Baby On The Run
Hope White


SHIELDING THE BABYAfter someone kills her friend, Jenna North flees with the woman’s baby, determined to do whatever it takes to keep little Eli safe. And when undercover FBI agent Matthew Weller comes to her aid, she must accept his help—but she’s not sure she can trust him. Though Matt’s under strict orders to complete his assignment and take down a money laundering operation, he must protect Jenna and the little boy. Even if it means blowing his cover and risking his job. And in a showdown against dirty cops, the most important mission of his career—saving the woman and child he’s falling for—is also the hardest.The Baby Protectors: Keeping innocent children safe







SHIELDING THE BABY

After someone kills her friend, Jenna North flees with the woman’s baby, determined to do whatever it takes to keep little Eli safe. And when undercover FBI agent Matthew Weller comes to her aid, she must accept his help—but she’s not sure she can trust him. Though Matt’s under strict orders to complete his assignment and take down a money-laundering operation, he must protect Jenna and the little boy. Even if it means blowing his cover and risking his job. And in a showdown against dirty cops, the most important mission of his career—saving the woman and child he’s falling for—is also the hardest.


An eternal optimist, HOPE WHITE was born and raised in the Midwest. She and her college sweetheart have been married for thirty years and are blessed with two wonderful sons, two feisty cats and a bossy border collie. When not dreaming up inspirational tales, Hope enjoys hiking, sipping tea with friends and going to the movies. She loves to hear from readers, who can contact her at hopewhiteauthor@gmail.com.


Also By Hope White (#ua053ccce-31ec-58c3-83da-dc2bf9428d41)

Hidden in Shadows

Witness on the Run

Christmas Have

Small Town Protector

Safe Harbor

Baby on the Run

Echo Mountain

Mountain Rescue

Covert Christmas

Payback

Christmas Undercover

Witness Pursuit

Mountain Ambush

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Baby on the Run

Hope White






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


ISBN: 978-1-474-08059-0

BABY ON THE RUN

© 2018 Pat White

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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He had to get to her. Had to warn her.

As he struggled to get up, his head spun and he collapsed on the pavement. He coached himself to breathe, to think past the throbbing headache long enough to help Jenna.

An innocent woman protecting an innocent child.

“Matthew?”

He looked up. Colorful green eyes sparkled down at him. Jenna.

No, they’d find her; they’d kill her. “You need to...”

What? Be taken into FBI custody? Why? He was in no shape to protect her, and by the time backup arrived, the thugs would have surely found her.

“My keys.” He dug into his jacket pocket and fished them out. As he offered them to her, they slipped through his trembling fingers. “Take the truck. Get out of here.”

He heard the keys scrape against the pavement. Good. She was taking his advice. Looking out for herself and the child.

A few seconds passed, maybe minutes; he couldn’t be sure. What he did know was that if the cops found him they’d ask questions, risking his cover.

Then again, he could tell the truth, to a point. He’d been jumped and beaten, and when he regained consciousness his truck was gone.

“Open your eyes.”

It was Jenna’s voice.

He blinked a few times and found himself looking up at her beautiful face.


Dear Reader (#ua053ccce-31ec-58c3-83da-dc2bf9428d41),

Our past experiences, including traumatic events, shape who we are as human beings. At the time we are going through challenging situations, we might lose hope and wonder if we’ll survive. Yet sometimes we come out of these situations as stronger people with new skills and insights into our lives and the lives of others.

Having survived an abusive marriage and the loss of her unborn child, Jenna North created a new identity and started a life away from the pain of her past. But when her friend’s child is suddenly in danger, Jenna must draw strength from her own personal tragedy and protect little Eli. Throughout the course of the story, Jenna realizes that running doesn’t put the pain behind her, and she can gain strength from facing the fear.

FBI agent Matt Weller is the ideal man to help Jenna find her confidence and strength as he protects her from criminals threatening her life and that of little Eli. Matt’s faith has helped him cope with personal tragedy, and his recovery from the pain is a good example for Jenna to witness.

As they rely on each other to protect a toddler from harm, Jenna and Matt exemplify teamwork and the blessing that we need not handle personal challenges alone. I’m ever so grateful for my family, friends and God, who help me along the way.

Peace,

Hope White


Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

—Philippians 4:6


Many thanks to expert moms Stephanie Christanson and Cassy Patterson, along with Deputy Sheriff Ryan Sherman and FBI special agent Mike Johnson, for their patience in answering my many questions.


Contents

Cover (#ua44ea383-0d86-5bc6-a6c0-e4a42bf95443)

Back Cover Text (#u63a2557b-71ec-5ada-bb44-7c995ddb38ec)

About the Author (#uce274453-f2d9-5d4d-a030-051a7b888ea4)

Booklist (#u078f5fa6-0f41-5fad-8878-686cddc0d6e4)

Title Page (#u48f4cd01-a6eb-5c0f-b527-8b9a8006a1d8)

Copyright (#u76d801c1-fe9d-5641-8e71-98aca61bcb35)

Introduction (#u3403919d-407c-5ef2-9c53-305ed37362a7)

Dear Reader (#ub7df5eba-42d6-5a9a-83db-ef8a373cea04)

Bible Verse (#u2b965f7f-36e5-5ae1-97a8-60ed18e9c719)

Dedication (#uc6633aba-83c0-5e84-8482-f87d78b33e1d)

ONE (#u25b31173-b22a-5948-bfae-1904d2034f61)

TWO (#u94b48300-e0b6-5e80-9e66-f973a2dc67a9)

THREE (#u999cb8c5-5d64-57c1-9a10-c008a8215408)

FOUR (#u6eaa65bf-545c-5321-8d86-d4ee00a436d0)

FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE (#ua053ccce-31ec-58c3-83da-dc2bf9428d41)

“You need to protect little Eli.”

Jenna North studied her friend. “What’s this about, Chloe?”

Chloe gazed at her eighteen-month-old son as he clutched a small white polar bear in one hand and ran a wooden train across a coffee table with the other.

Paperwork had kept Jenna late at the Broadlake Foundation, where she worked as development manager, when she received Chloe’s frantic call. Jenna offered to stop by Chloe’s house on the way home, but Chloe rejected the idea. Instead, she came straight over to the school-turned-community-center where the foundation leased space. Jenna hadn’t expected Chloe to bring Eli with her, not at this hour.

“I’ve made some bad choices,” Chloe suddenly confessed.

Haven’t we all? Jenna thought. “God forgives, remember?” The words tasted bitter rolling off her tongue. “Chloe, what’s going on?”

The young mother shook her head.

“Come on. I can’t help unless—”

“I’m scared!”

Eli looked up at his mom with rounded eyes. She pulled him into her arms and rocked slightly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m sorry.” She eyed Jenna. “Promise me you’ll protect him.”

A chill ran down Jenna’s spine. Could she truly make that promise considering she’d been unable to protect her own son?

And even herself?

“Please,” Chloe begged.

Jenna nodded. “I promise.”

Chloe sat back down, clinging to her son. Eli had other ideas. He squirmed against her, so Chloe put him down and he squatted to dig for another toy in his diaper bag. He pulled out a second train and waddled back to the coffee table. Tears formed in Chloe’s eyes as she watched him.

Frustrated, Jenna wondered whom to call for help. Perhaps Chloe’s counselor? Chloe had admitted to struggling with depression in the past.

“Have you called Rosalie?” Jenna asked.

“Why, you think I’m crazy?” Chloe snapped.

“No, I’m just not sure how to help you.”

“You already have.”

“Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”

“Yes.”

A few moments of silence passed between them.

“As long as he has Bubba, his bear, he’ll be fine.” Chloe handed Jenna a piece of paper. “If anything happens to me, keep Eli safe and find this man.”

Jenna glanced at the note and slipped it into her pocket. “Who is it?”

“My cousin Marcus Garcia. He lives north of Missoula, in the mountains. Don’t trust anyone else with Eli, okay?”

Jenna nodded. That wouldn’t be a problem since trusting people was a skill she’d lost years ago.

“Marcus is the only family I’ve got,” Chloe said, wistful.

“What about Gary?”

Chloe sighed. “I was so naive when I married him. I thought he was my Prince Charming.”

Jenna knew that princes only existed in fairy tales.

“But he is Eli’s father,” Jenna said.

“Gary is a selfish man,” Chloe said in a firm tone. “He doesn’t care about us.”

“Chloe—”

“He’s dangerous.” She pinned Jenna with intense eyes. “Gary is a monster.”

Prickles skittered across Jenna’s nerve endings.

Keep it together, Jenna.

“Dangerous how?” Jenna pressed.

Chloe stood suddenly. “I’m going to be sick. Watch Eli.” She rushed across the office and disappeared into the hallway.

“Chloe!” Jenna wanted to go after her, but couldn’t leave Eli alone.

“Mama?” he said.

“She’ll be right back, buddy.”

He clung tighter to his bear. Jenna kneeled beside the table and struggled to smile at Eli. Her own son would have been a little older than Eli now.

I’m sorry, baby Joey.

“Stop,” she whispered and turned her attention to the toddler. “Choo-choo, choo-choo,” she said, running a small wooden train across the table. Eli grabbed another train and mimicked her action.

As she watched him intently move his train back and forth, she couldn’t help but smile. There was something so pure about a child. Most of the time, when she was around kids, she was able to revel in that innocence instead of being pulled down by sadness. Sometimes it allowed a slight ray of hope to pierce through the darkness of her own grief, grief that drove her to start a new life in Cedar River, Montana.

The sound of shattering glass echoed down the hall. Jenna sat straight up.

“Let me go!” Chloe’s voice echoed.

Jenna automatically rushed across the room and snatched the canister of pepper spray out of her bag. She peeked into the hallway...

Two men were escorting Chloe to the exit: an unusually tall man wearing a knit ski cap, and a husky, broad-shouldered guy in a leather jacket.

Heart pounding, Jenna pulled out her phone to call for help. Her petite stature was no match for two thugs, even with her self-defense training and the pepper spray clutched in her hand.

“I won’t let you hurt him!” Chloe shouted.

As Jenna’s trembling finger pressed the 9-1-1 buttons, a male voice said, “What’s going on?”

She peeked around the corner and spotted Police Chief Billings.

For once she was relieved the cops had arrived.

“Stop it!” Chloe squirmed against the tall man’s grip.

“Release her,” the chief said.

Jenna was about to announce her presence when the chief grabbed Chloe, spun her around and put her in a choke hold.

Paralyzed with fear, Jenna watched as Chloe struggled against his firm grip, kicking and thrashing.

The thrashing slowed.

Chloe’s body went limp.

She fell to the ground.

Jenna darted out of sight. The floor seemed to tip sideways beneath her feet.

“Put her in the trunk,” Chief Billings said.

No, this can’t be happening. Please, God, help me.

He’d never listened before. Why should He start now?

“And find her son,” he said.

“You think he’s here?” one of the men asked.

“It’s worth checking. Go room by room,” he ordered.

Jenna’s mind struggled to come up with an explanation for what she’d just witnessed, but there was none. Her fight-or-flight response kicked in.

Use it to your advantage, she’d been taught after leaving Anthony three years ago.

Doors opened and closed down the hall. She had seconds to figure this out.

She softly locked her office door. Adrenaline rushing through her body, she considered her options. If only she could make it to the north lot where she’d parked her car.

Eli waved a wooden train. “Choo-choo!”

She snapped her attention to the little boy. As the men got closer, they’d surely hear the child’s enthusiastic voice. She dashed through the adjoining closet into the classroom next door and yanked the fire alarm. The sharp squealing sound pierced through the air. She rushed back to her office and quickly but gently tucked Eli into his snowsuit. The wail of the alarm drowned out his wails of confusion and fear.

Focus. It’s all about focus.

Is this why Chloe chose Jenna to protect Eli, because she sensed Jenna’s dark past, her determination never to be a victim again? The word victim sent a surge of panic through her body.

Stay calm, she coached herself.

She couldn’t wait for the fire department. She’d be dead before they got here.

You need to protect Eli.

She set the toddler down and put on her jacket, tucking the pepper spray in her pocket for easy access. Eli stumbled a few feet away, arms flailing, trying to get away from the shrill alarm.

Across the room, the doorknob twisted right and left.

In an almost disassociated state, Jenna unlocked her desk drawer, removed the false bottom and grabbed her stash of emergency money.

One at home, one at work. Be ready for anything.

Money tucked safely into her pocket, she shouldered the diaper bag, picked up Eli and handed him the polar bear. Clutching the bear, he continued to cry, so she unclipped a pacifier from a strap on the diaper bag and offered it to the little boy. He took it and instantly quieted, his eyes rounding like saucers.

Flinging her messenger bag over her other shoulder, she headed again for the storage room. Since the building had once been a school, it had connecting classrooms that would give her access to the north exit, closer to her car.

As she passed through the storage room, she noticed a few car seats they used when taking children on field trips in the van. She grabbed one and forged ahead.

She was a woman on a mission, a warrior who was not going to lose this battle. Not this time.

The wail of sirens echoed from outside. Good. That should chase the intruders away. Violent men connected to local law enforcement—not a surprise to Jenna.

She finally made it to the north end of the school. This was it. She actually might get away safely.

There was no might about it. She’d made a promise to protect Chloe’s child.

Jenna would not fail.

Clinging to Eli, she pushed open the door to the outside. Floodlights designed to discourage trespassers lit the playground all the way to the secondary parking lot. A strong gust of wind slapped her cheeks as she headed for her car.

What if the men were right behind her?

Traumatic flashbacks replayed in her mind like a video on accelerated speed. She quickened her pace, as if running could get her away from the images.

He can’t hurt you if he can’t find you.

She approached the corner of the building.

Only a few hundred feet from the parking lot.

Her car.

Freedom.

* * *

Matt Weller had been on a break, eating a sandwich in the custodian’s office and listening to the hockey game on the radio, when he’d heard a woman scream. He thought he’d imagined it at first and checked the closed-circuit video feed. Two men were dragging Mrs. McFadden to the exit. Just as Matt got up to help her, Chief Billings entered the building.

And strangled Mrs. McFadden.

Matt’s first reaction was to get his weapon.

As he sprinted across the playground, the fire alarm rang from the building. Why would the perps lure the fire department to the scene? That made no sense whatsoever.

He approached the truck and considered his next move. They would have surely taken Mrs. McFadden’s body away by now, removing the evidence.

But Matt knew there had been more than one woman in the building tonight. The lovely Jenna North had been at the center working late, as she often did.

The building was so peaceful when she was there, one of the reasons he liked the night shift.

Until tonight.

Matt climbed into the front seat and took a calming breath. He needed to be smart about this, needed to protect his cover and Miss North at the same time.

Something caught his eye across the lot—Jenna North carrying a child and a car seat. Hang on—he knew she wasn’t married and didn’t have kids.

Then Matt saw them—the two perps heading straight for her on the other side of the building.

The woman was going to get herself killed.

Matt shoved his truck into gear and drove slowly toward the building where the innocent Miss North was about to walk straight into trouble.

He couldn’t let that happen, no matter the risk.

As Jenna approached the corner of the building, Matt sped up. All it would take was an effective block. Yes, he’d innocently pull up between her and the men and play out his role of night janitor by warning them to leave the premises due to the fire alarm.

He stopped the truck, got out and motioned for Jenna to get down.

Instead, she whipped out a canister of pepper spray.

Matt put out one hand in surrender and pointed around the corner with his other hand.

Her green eyes widened.

He motioned for her to stay low, and then went around the back of his truck to confront the men.

But there was only one guy. Not good. Where was the other perp?

“Get away from the building!” Matt shouted. He had to play his part, although his navy blue custodian’s uniform should make it clear who he was.

“My wife is in there!” the guy, midforties, wearing a knit ski cap, shouted.

Yeah, his wife.

“Have to wait for the all clear from the fire department!” Matt shouted.

The man nodded and turned away. Good, an easy fix.

Then Knit Cap Guy snapped around and took a swing at Matt. He dodged the blow and slugged the man in the stomach. He doubled over, coughing. With fisted hands, Matt readied himself for another assault.

The wail of sirens grew louder. The perp jumped to his feet and took off. Matt the FBI agent would chase after him; Matt the janitor would not.

He went back to the other side of the truck to help Jenna.

But she was gone.

He scanned the playground, the surrounding woods, the nearby parking lot. Knit Cap Guy’s partner couldn’t have gotten to her in the thirty seconds that Matt had been engaged in a fistfight.

Matt needed to find her, protect her.

He climbed into his truck to get his weapon and slammed the door.

A squeak echoed from the back seat.

He froze as he reached for the glove box and spun around. The little boy was sucking on a pacifier, eyes wide and curious, clutching a white stuffed animal.

“Are they gone?” Jenna said from the seat directly behind Matt.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. It seemed like her eyes had grown a brighter shade of green since he’d seen her earlier this evening.

“I think so,” he said. “The little boy, is he Mrs. McFadden’s?”

“Yes. I promised to protect him.”

She studied Matt as if trying to make out his character, figure out whether he was good or bad. A little of both, he mused.

She needed good right now, very good, and committed. Which wasn’t Matt. He wished it could be different. There was something about Jenna North that always made him smile. It was her way with staff members—with everyone, come to think of it. She was gentle and kind, yet persuasive enough to get the job done. The Broadlake Foundation thrived in part because of her fund-raising efforts that supported the operating budget.

He hoped she knew nothing about the cartel’s money-laundering scheme, that she was only an innocent bystander.

“My friend, Mrs. McFadden, she...” Jenna’s voice trailed off.

He waited.

“She’s dead.”

Yes, Matt knew because he’d seen it happen.

And now, because she’d also witnessed the homicide, Miss North’s life was in danger, as was the child’s. Anger simmered in his chest. This couldn’t be his problem, not today. He’d get Miss North and the child to safety and get back to his assignment.

Acting like the innocent bystander she assumed he was, Matt said, “We should report this.”

“To whom? The police? They’re involved.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Chief Billings killed Chloe.”

Great, not only had she been asked to protect the child, but she knew of the chief’s involvement. This put her life at an even higher risk.

“Matthew, may I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Can you keep this between us, that you helped me, that I have Eli?”

“Only if you’ll do me a favor in return.”

“What?”

He had no choice but to protect her. She was in too deep. “Stay here until I deal with the fire department. Once they’re gone, I’ll come back and give you a ride to wherever you want to go. Okay?”

“Thank you, but my car isn’t far.”

“They’ll probably be watching your car, right?”

She nibbled her lower lip for a second, an adorable gesture. He snapped his attention out the front window of his truck to the parking lot in the distance.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “But...you should know that helping me could get you into trouble.”

“I’m okay with that.” Matt offered her the truck keys. “If I’m not back in twenty, take off.”

He flung open the door and headed for the front of the building. He half expected to encounter the two perps, maybe even the chief, but they were nowhere in sight.

The glass windows on one of the community center doors had been shattered, which must be how the men had gained access to the building.

Motioning to the fire response crew, Matt led them inside. They spread out, looking for smoke. A fireman turned off the alarm and nodded at Matt. “Are you the night custodian?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please wait outside until we clear the building.”

Matt did as he was ordered and called the police. He had to. It would look suspicious if he didn’t alert the authorities to the break-in. As he was making the call, a squad car and the chief’s car pulled into the lot.

A patrolman Matt recognized as Kyle Armstrong exited his squad car. Chief Billings and Kyle approached Matt.

You’re only the janitor, he reminded himself.

“I was just calling you guys,” Matt said.

“Hey, Matt,” Kyle greeted him.

“You two know each other?” Billings asked.

“We attend the same church,” Kyle said by way of explanation.

Church was no doubt a foreign concept to a guy like Billings. A dirty cop. A killer.

“This is Matt Weller, the night custodian,” Kyle introduced.

Billings extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Matt. Have any idea who pulled the alarm?”

“No, sir. Apparently some guy broke in.” He pointed toward the broken window.

“Some guy? Not mischievous teens?” Billings asked.

Matt opted for sticking to the truth as much as possible. “No, it was a man, sir.” He looked directly at Billings, whose eye twitched ever so slightly.

“Can you describe him?” Kyle asked, pulling out a small notebook.

“About five-ten, a hundred and eighty pounds.” He directed the rest of his answer to Kyle. “He wore a black leather jacket and knit cap. I’m thinking he was pushing forty?”

“Wow, how close did you get to this guy?” Kyle asked.

“Pretty close. He took a swing at me.”

“Are you injured?” Billings said with mock concern.

“No, sir. I grew up the youngest of five boys so I’m pretty good at defending myself.”

“The knit cap perp was inside the building?” Kyle pushed.

“Actually we got into it outside, back by the playground.”

Kyle looked up in question.

“I went out to my truck to get something, and that’s when I encountered the man,” Matt said. “The alarm had gone off—not sure what that was about. He claimed his wife was in the building.”

“His wife?” Kyle said. “But the center was closed.”

“That is correct,” Matt said. “I thought I convinced him to leave, but then he went all Rocky on me.”

The fire crew exited the building. “It’s clear,” the shift captain said.

“Thanks.” Billings turned to Matt. “I’d like you to walk me through what happened tonight. Step by step.”

Of course he did. He wanted to figure out if Matt was telling the truth or creating a story to protect himself, Jenna and the little boy.

“Sure, this way.” He led Kyle and the chief into the community center. By the end of this story, they’d be at Matt’s truck. He hoped they wouldn’t decide to search it, but why would they? Matt wasn’t a suspect. If Jenna stayed down and the little boy didn’t cry, Billings wouldn’t find her.

She’d be hiding right under his nose.

“I was in the back office on break, listening to the hockey game,” Matt said.

They got to his office and the cops poked their heads inside.

“Closed circuit?” Kyle asked, eyeing the monitor.

“Yep. For security.” Matt curled his fingers into his palm to keep calm. “It gives me a view of the main hallway.”

“You didn’t see the suspect break in?”

“No, he probably accessed the building while I was at my truck.” He feigned panic and looked at Kyle. “Man, I hope I don’t lose my job over this—I mean for not preventing the break-in.”

“If he was determined to get in, nothing would have stopped him,” Billings said.

Matt nodded. Was that subtext? A subtle warning?

“Continue,” Chief Billings said.

“So about ten thirty I went out to the truck.” He led them to the back door and swung it open. The three men ambled outside. “It wasn’t parked this close originally, but kids were finishing up basketball when I arrived at six. I figured as long as I was out here I’d repark closer to the building.”

“Besides the basketball league, who else was here tonight, Mr. Weller?” the chief asked.

“A yoga class, line dancing for seniors and the knitting club. They were all gone by nine.”

“Anyone else, perhaps employees working late?” Billings pushed.

Matt wondered if he’d seen Jenna North’s little blue car parked in the overflow lot. He had to play this just right, be as truthful as possible.

“I might have seen Jenna North earlier. She works for a foundation that leases space here.”

“I’ll look into it,” Kyle said.

Chief Billings eyed Matt speculatively, and he broke eye contact in his effort to act submissive and nonthreatening.

Innocent.

That’s when Matt noticed the back window of his truck was cracked open. Matt needed a quick redirect to get them away from Jenna and the child.

“We got into a fistfight over here.” Matt led them to the other side of the truck. “Actually, there was one other thing about the knit cap guy.”

Billings’s eyes flared.

“He had a scar above his eyebrow here.” Matt pointed to his own forehead.

“That could help,” Kyle said.

“I yelled at him to stay away from the building. He yelled back that his wife was inside, which made no sense. Then he threw a punch. That’s about it.”

“That’s a lot,” Kyle said, jotting notes furiously.

The chief kneeled, analyzing something on the ground.

“What is it, sir?” Kyle asked.

“Found a cigarette butt. I’ll bag it.”

Except Knit Cap Guy hadn’t been smoking, which meant Billings was trying to throw the investigation off course.

“Can you tell us anything else, Matt?” Kyle said.

“No, sorry. I’d better go fix the front door, and I should probably call Mrs. Harris, my boss.”

“If anything else does come to mind, please call me directly.” Billings handed him a business card.

“Will do. Thanks.”

Matt led the cops back to the front of the building, and the knot in his gut uncoiled as they got farther away from the truck, from Jenna and the little boy.

He called Lucinda Harris and explained the situation as he watched the fire trucks pull away. She was worried about Matt and told him to finish cleaning up the mess and leave early. A good thing, since he was desperate to check on Jenna and the child.

The chief and Kyle were still out front, assessing and speculating.

Matt went inside and found a piece of wood from the storage area to cover the broken window. He secured it in place and swept up the mess. He wanted to play the role of night custodian a little longer, until the cops left the premises.

And then he needed to get to Jenna and the child. Let her know everything was okay.

He started flipping off main lights. Through one of the community room windows, he noticed the two police cars pulling out of the lot.

After jogging to the back of the building, he got his jacket out of the office, locked the building and headed to his truck. He grabbed the door handle, but it was locked. Fearful of being found, Miss North must have locked the doors. He tapped twice, blowing on his chilled hands, and glanced over his shoulder out of habit.

The door unlocked with a click. He climbed into the front seat. “They’re gone.”

He felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head.


TWO (#ua053ccce-31ec-58c3-83da-dc2bf9428d41)

Jenna’s hand trembled as she aimed the gun at the janitor’s head. Of course there was no way she could pull the trigger, but she didn’t know what else to do.

I might have seen Jenna North earlier, he’d said to the chief.

The man who’d killed her best friend.

Matthew might as well have opened the truck door and handed Jenna and Eli over to the guy.

“I know you’re scared—”

“Drive,” she interrupted.

“Please put the gun down.”

“Now.” She tapped the barrel against his head, not hard, but hard enough.

With a nod, he started the truck and pulled out of the lot.

She still couldn’t believe what she’d found when she’d gone through his glove box looking for a tissue.

Zip ties, duct tape and a gun.

Who was this man? Had she run from one killer directly into the arms of another?

The trembling intensified, running down her arm to rock her entire body. No, she would not let the trauma of the past consume her; she would not fall apart.

This time she’d save the child.

She had considered fleeing in his truck, but that would have meant driving past the killer police chief.

“I can explain,” Matthew said.

“Just drive.”

“To where?”

Good question. The mall was closed at this time of night, yet she needed a very public place to regroup. And then what?

One step at a time.

“I-90 truck stop.” It was very public and not far away. She wouldn’t spend a minute longer than necessary with this creep. Once away from the janitor, she’d call someone for help. But whom? Patrice, the woman who’d helped Jenna escape Anthony?

Wait—she remembered the slip of paper Chloe had given her with the name of her cousin. That’s it. She’d call Marcus to come get her.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, Miss North, but if I’d wanted to do you harm I would have turned you over to Chief Billings.”

“Then you wouldn’t have the pleasure of hurting me.”

He shot her an intense look through the rearview mirror. “I would never hurt you. I want to help.”

“Stop talking,” she ordered as the past taunted her.

I want to help you get better.

She’d believed her abusive husband. Only after she’d left Anthony did she understand how his words had been an insidious and powerful manipulation.

“At least let me call someone for you,” Matthew said.

You need help.

She almost told the janitor to shut up again, but decided to speak the truth instead. “Stop pretending to be my friend. I heard you tell Billings that I was at the center tonight.”

“I had to. Your car was a hundred yards away.”

Her car. She’d never get it back. They’d impound it, making it harder for her to flee the city.

Which meant she’d have to rely on strangers for help until Chloe’s cousin could rescue her.

No, you don’t need rescuing any longer.

The janitor turned left.

“Where are you going? I said take me to the truck stop.” Fear skittered across her shoulders. Was he going to try to overpower her? In front of Eli?

“We’re being followed,” he said.

She snapped her gaze out the back window. Headlights shone through the dark night. “That could be anyone.”

“They’ve been behind us since we left the center.”

“Just get me to the truck stop.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As he drove through town, she scolded herself for trusting him in the first place, but Matthew had seemed like an innocuous sort of man. She’d heard he’d moved to town after serving in the military and that he’d even joined the local church. That in and of itself would have made most people trust him.

Yet Anthony had been a church leader, a pillar of the community—and behind closed doors, he was a monster.

Like Chloe’s husband?

Like the man driving the truck?

Why did Jenna attract violent men? Maybe her stepfather had been right when he’d branded her a stupid and weak girl, a lost cause.

“No,” she ground out.

“Ma’am?”

She snapped her attention to him. “What?”

“You said something?”

She clenched her jaw. This was not the time for the past to taunt her. Making bad choices when it came to romance seemed to be a habit for Jenna, starting with Mike in high school, and then Anthony. It had taken two years and a miscarriage to get away from her abuser. Tonight, three years after her escape, she found herself right back in the eye of the storm.

This time she’d get it right. She’d protect her friend’s little boy.

Her friend. Chloe.

The image of Chloe collapsing on the floor flashed across Jenna’s mind. Still in shock about the loss, Jenna had had no time to process or grieve. Chloe wouldn’t want her to be distracted; she’d want Jenna to put all her energy into saving Eli.

Chloe was a young mother who’d become Jenna’s best friend in town after they’d met on the development committee for the foundation. They’d joined an exercise dance class and regularly gone out for pie afterward. They had the same sense of humor, the same view on life.

It seemed they had other similarities as well—their bad choices in men.

The janitor made a right turn, heading in the opposite direction of her requested destination.

“Hey.” She tapped the barrel of the gun against his head.

“Look, trust me or don’t trust me. I don’t care,” he said. “At least let me lose the tail before I drop you at the truck stop.”

“You can drop the knight-in-shining-armor act. I’m not buying it.”

“Then shoot me.”

She snapped her gaze to the rearview mirror. He pinned her with fierce blue eyes.

“Shoot me or let me lose them. Your choice,” he said.

She glanced nervously at Eli. She couldn’t pull the trigger with a baby in the car.

Who was she kidding? She couldn’t pull the trigger, period.

But this creep didn’t have to know that.

“Fine, lose them,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He sped up, and she jerked back in her seat. She glanced beside her at Eli. The motion hadn’t disturbed him from his restful slumber as he sucked on his Binky and clung to his bear.

The janitor navigated down side streets and back up an alley. She clutched the gun grip to stay grounded, but wished it were something else, something spiritual. Her fingers automatically went to the base of her neck, remembering the dove charm she’d worn as a child, a charm that symbolized the Holy Spirit.

A charm she’d ripped off and thrown away as a teenager after she’d lost faith in an absent god.

She thumbed the silver ring on her right hand instead, the braided knot given to her by Patrice, who’d taken Jenna in and helped her heal after she’d left Anthony. The interwoven strands of silver represented connectedness, a reminder that Jenna was never alone, that she could always call on Patrice and the guardian network for support.

Matthew pulled onto the expressway. They were leaving town and heading in the right direction.

“We’re good,” he said.

“Hardly,” she muttered.

“Listen—”

“Don’t speak!” she said, louder than she’d intended.

Eli’s eyes popped open and he started to cry. “Shh, I’m sorry, little one,” she said, fearing she was the wrong person to be caring for a child.

To appease him, she sang a song, one her mom had sung to her when she was little. The little boy’s eyes widened with curiosity, and then his eyelids blinked slowly and finally closed.

The car grew eerily silent as they left town and continued on the expressway. She liked the silence, embraced it. It gave her time to think.

About fifteen minutes later, the janitor exited the expressway, pulled into the truck stop and parked.

She removed the gun magazine and pocketed it, opened the truck door and hurled the gun into the snow-covered field bordering the lot. Shouldering the diaper and messenger bags, she unbuckled the car seat.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” he said.

She ignored his mock concern and lifted baby Eli out of the car. The little boy still clung to his bear for comfort.

Whether Chloe’s cousin came to pick her up or Jenna called a taxi, she’d need the car seat for Eli. She grabbed it with her other hand.

“For what it’s worth, I’m a cop,” he said.

She froze and glared at the back of his head.

“Not local,” he continued as if he anticipated her fear. “I’m undercover FBI.”

“Sure you are.” She shouldered the door shut and marched away from the truck. Did he think her that gullible?

Thick, wet snowflakes swirled around her as she crossed the parking lot. There were a dozen trucks and cars in the lot. Good, the more people around the safer she’d feel.

Once inside, she placed the car seat by the door. She considered what to do with the magazine of bullets. Maybe she should have kept the weapon to defend herself and Eli. She’d learned how to use a firearm after she’d escaped Anthony.

No, the thought of shooting someone made her nauseous, and it didn’t feel right disposing of the magazine in a public place where it could end up in the wrong hands.

Instead, she decided to ditch her cell in case they could track it, and tossed the phone into the garbage can. She carried Eli to a nearby pay phone and called Chloe’s cousin, but it went to voice mail.

“You’ve reached Marcus. I’m not here. Leave a message.”

“Hi, Marcus. You don’t know me, but I’m Jenna, a good friend of your cousin Chloe’s. She told me to call you. There’s been an emergency and I need your help. It’s about Chloe’s son, Eli. Anyway, I’m calling from a pay phone, but I’m not sure how long we’ll be here. I guess I’ll keep calling. Thanks.”

What a message to leave a stranger. Would he even take her seriously?

She couldn’t worry about that now.

As she headed into the twenty-four-hour store, a list of what to do next formed in her mind. First, she had to change her appearance. She bought a local football team knit ski cap to cover her dark hair. She’d tuck it up into the cap until she got the chance to color it.

After making her purchases, she would take her contacts out and replace them with her thick-rimmed glasses to further mask her identity. But what about Eli? Her gaze drifted to a pink child’s ski cap. Disguising him as a girl would certainly throw someone off at first glance. She bought some cheap makeup, something she rarely wore, and scissors for cutting her hair. She wished they had hair dye, but that would have to wait until she found a drugstore.

Her panic about not being able to protect Eli was subsiding. She’d made it safely away from the office, away from a corrupt killer cop.

She was proud of herself for getting this far.

Thanks to Matthew the janitor.

“A guy with zip ties, duct tape and a gun in his glove box,” she muttered.

I’m undercover FBI.

She briefly wondered if he was being honest and her trauma had blinded her to the truth. No, why would an FBI agent keep duct tape in his car? He’d tried to explain, but she hadn’t let him.

Peeking out the store window, she spotted Matthew talking on the phone as he picked up his weapon from the snow-covered field.

Movement suddenly drew her attention left.

The two men from the community center got out of a black car. She gasped and ducked behind a display of snacks, clutching Eli securely against her chest.

What if they came into the truck stop and saw the car seat by the door?

Seconds stretched like hours.

Stop hiding like a coward!

With a fortifying breath, she went back to the counter and peeked out the window.

The cashier stepped up and blocked her view. “May I help you?”

Jenna glanced around her into the parking lot.

The twentysomething cashier with long blond hair also glanced outside. Just as...

The two thugs from the community center jumped Matthew.

“Whoa,” the girl said.

“I need to use your phone.”

“There’s a pay phone—”

“I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

* * *

Matt couldn’t leave Jenna North at the truck stop without knowing she’d be okay.

He called in to give his boss an update. “She’s a part of it now.”

“You don’t know that,” his supervisor, Steve Pragge, said.

“Billings is after her.”

There was a pause, then, “Not our problem. You need to get back to town and be ready for your shift tomorrow.”

“And leave an innocent woman and child at the mercy of a killer?”

“If you’re that worried, I’ll send someone to bring her in.”

“I doubt she’ll go willingly.”

“Then you bring her in. As long as you’re back at work tomorrow night.”

“I’m not sure she’ll come with me either.”

“What’s the problem?”

“She doesn’t trust cops.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say here, Weller. This woman is a complication. You’ve got a job to do.”

His boss ended the call, and Matt considered the subtext to Pragge’s words. He expected Matt to stay on task, return to Cedar River and leave Jenna behind.

Not happening.

Matt wondered what had made Jenna do the about-face from trusting Matt to being terrified of him. The way she’d threatened him with the gun...

The gun. She’d retrieved it from his glove box. Since she probably had little if any experience with firearms, he could only guess what conclusions she would have drawn about someone who casually carried a handgun in his vehicle.

He went into the field to search for his gun and realized he wasn’t angry that she’d tossed it. In fact, he respected her for the move if she thought him dangerous.

Scanning the area with a flashlight, he wondered how to convince Jenna to accept his help. He couldn’t arrest her, because she hadn’t done anything wrong—although technically she had kidnapped a child. Instinct told him to keep her out of the system, or the chief would find her for sure.

He found the gun, shoved it into the back of his waistband and turned.

Something smashed against his head.

He fell to the cold, hard snow, and blinked to clear his vision.

He was being dragged across the parking lot toward the Dumpster.

As they released him with a jerk, two men started kicking Matt. Was this a random mugging or had the chief’s men found him? Did Billings suspect Matt knew more than he was saying?

“Where is she?” a man asked, delivering a kick to Matt’s stomach.

“Who?” he gasped.

A solid boot jammed against his neck. He grabbed the guy’s ankle and yanked.

The guy went down.

Matt scrambled to his feet.

The second guy snapped a cord around Matthew’s neck, cutting off air. After surviving two tours in Afghanistan, dodging IEDs and defending innocents, he was going down like this?

God, if I’m done, I’m okay with that. But please protect Jenna and the child.

With a sudden release, he was shoved headfirst into the metal Dumpster, then yanked back and thrown onto the pavement. Drifting in and out of consciousness, all he could think about was Jenna, her colorful green eyes and lovely smile.

“Jenna North,” the husky guy said, his face close to Matt’s. “Where. Is. She?”

“Hang on, he’s calling,” the other guy said. “Yeah... Where? On our way. Let’s go.”

“What about the janitor?”

“Forget him. We’ve got a location on the woman.”

On Jenna? They knew she was inside? Matt struggled to get up. One of the guys kicked him twice in the ribs for good measure.

Matt coughed and clutched his chest. With blurry vision, he watched the men cross the lot.

He had to get to her. Had to warn her.

Struggling to get up, his head spun and he collapsed on the pavement. He coached himself to breathe, to think past the throbbing headache long enough to help Jenna.

An innocent woman protecting an innocent child.

“Matthew?”

He looked up. Vivid green eyes sparkled down at him. Jenna.

No, they’d find her; they’d kill her. “You need to...”

What? Be taken into FBI custody? Why? He was in no shape to protect her, and by the time backup arrived, the thugs would have surely found her.

“My keys.” He dug into his jacket pocket and fished them out. As he offered them to her, they slipped through his trembling fingers. “Take the truck. Get out of here.”

He heard the keys scrape against the pavement. Good, she was taking his advice. Looking out for herself and the child.

A few seconds passed, maybe minutes—he couldn’t be sure. What he did know was that if the cops found him, they’d ask questions, risking his cover.

Then again, he could tell the truth, to a point. He’d been jumped and beaten, and when he regained consciousness, his truck was gone.

“Open your eyes.”

It was Jenna’s voice.

He blinked a few times and found himself looking up at her beautiful face.

“You need to go,” he ordered.

“Can you get up?”

“The men—”

“They’re gone. Come on—stand up.”

“Gone?” he said as she helped him to his feet. He groaned, clutching his ribs.

“They left. I called 9-1-1 and told them I was at Scooter’s Pancake House in Cedar River.”

“What about...the little boy?”

“He’s in the car.”

He blinked to clear the stars from his vision, but it didn’t help much. Safe to say the chief’s thugs had gifted him with a doozy of a concussion. When he reached his truck, Jenna led him to the passenger side.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

“You can barely stand. Get in.” She glanced nervously over her shoulder. A few people inside the truck stop were watching from the window.

As he started to argue, he realized how right she was. Matt was in no shape to drive and they needed to get out of here, quick. The concussion was messing with his judgment. He’d have to rely on Jenna’s acumen for the time being.

Once inside the truck, he closed his eyes. He heard her get behind the wheel, but she didn’t start the vehicle.

He cracked open his eyes. “What...what’s happening?”

“I need to take my contacts out.” She dug through her bag.

“Do it when we’re safe.”

“I’ll do it now, thank you very much,” she snapped.

He’d made her angry. Why? He was trying to protect her, get her away from danger.

She pulled out a small container, and before he could say Miranda rights, she’d removed her contacts and was transformed with the help of large, dark-rimmed glasses. Her auburn hair had been tucked into a ski cap.

“Okay, let’s take care of you. Where’s the first aid kit?” she said.

“I’m fine.” As he said the words, he found himself drifting into that dark place—the place between consciousness and sleep, the place where time didn’t exist. Distant memories flooded his brain, memories of laughter, then anger...

A casket being lowered into the ground.

Sarah.

A gentle hand pressed a gauze pad against the side of his head. “Shh, hold still.”

It was a firm voice, tinged with sweetness and concern. Who was it again? He’d distanced himself from relationships because of his work, his dedication to the job.

He’d attempted commitment with Sarah. And she was dead.

His fault.

There wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t pray for forgiveness.

Shutting down the romantic part of his life was what had made him a good agent, an agent willing to devote all his energy into nailing criminals, men who pretended to be heroes, when they were actually...

He was falling again, floating like a leaf dropping from a tree. Where would he land? Back at her funeral? His remorse strangling him as he pleaded with God for forgiveness?

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Sarah?” he said.

“Almost done.”

“I’m sorry.”

* * *

An hour later, Jenna glanced at her passenger and wondered if she should take him to a hospital. His skin was pale and he groaned in his sleep every few minutes. Plus, he’d been having delusions back at the truck stop when she’d bandaged his head wound.

He’d whispered the name Sarah. His girlfriend? Wife?

“Stay focused,” she said softly. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by her passenger’s nightmares. She needed to strategize what to do next, other than to distance herself from Cedar River.

“Stay back,” Matthew muttered in his sleep.

Jenna suspected he had a concussion and knew the best treatment for that was sleep. She’d learned as much when she’d ended up in the hospital after one of her “falls.”

She clenched her jaw. This was not the time, nor the place, to be thinking about the past. She had two people to protect—Little Eli and...an FBI agent. Which begged the question, why was he working undercover as a janitor at the community center?

“Medic,” he said. He jerked awake, eyes wide, breathing heavily.

“Hey, you’re okay,” she said.

He glanced at her with a dazed expression.

“Just a bad dream,” she said.

He snapped his attention away, as if embarrassed, and directed his gaze to the road ahead.

“Best thing for a concussion is sleep,” she offered.

A moment later he closed his eyes. Wow, that surprised her. She thought she’d get more of an argument, or a lecture about how she should have left him back at the truck stop.

Why didn’t you abandon him, Jenna?

Because of the vulnerability in his dulled blue eyes. She couldn’t leave a semiconscious man lying on the cold, wet ground. After all, once the thugs figured out Jenna had diverted them from her true location, they would have returned to the truck stop and done even more damage to Matthew. He was in no position to defend himself.

She’d been in survival mode back at the office, driven by the trauma of her past. The chief’s actions solidified her opinion of law enforcement, and her cautious nature had made her draw the conclusion that Matthew was a serial criminal, not a cop. Even if he was a cop, she knew they had their own code, and the normal rules of civility didn’t apply to them.

Which left her in that same, familiar spot: alone and afraid.

And she couldn’t afford to be afraid, not while Eli was in her care.

If only she had a burner phone to call Marcus again, get Eli safely to his cousin. Deep down, Jenna feared she was the absolute worst choice to protect Eli. She’d failed miserably before. What made her think this time would be different?

Her brain started clicking off options. What about... She glanced at her passenger. Could she risk getting help from the FBI? No, they’d force her to return Eli to his father, a man Chloe had called a monster. She shook off the thought.

The word monster taunted her, reminding her that although she was legally free of him, there were days she still felt like she was under Anthony’s thumb, especially when she’d come home to her Cedar River apartment and find things out of place. She’d be yanked back into the past, experiencing Anthony’s wrath over her unacceptable housekeeping skills. She’d try to shake it off, reminding herself she’d been in a hurry to get to work in the morning and had forgotten to put things where they belonged.

But the fear of punishment was quite real.

Move on, she coached herself.

She needed to think her way out of this current crisis, not be paralyzed by the past. Who could she go to for help? Jenna had been estranged from her family ever since she’d married Anthony, and had never reunited with them after she’d escaped his abuse. Distancing herself from everyone, past and present, had been the best way to put the horror behind her and live a safe life. She was willing to do whatever was necessary to achieve that goal, and starting a new life where no one knew her seemed like the only way.

A new life where she could be a different person. A stronger person.

She reconsidered calling Patrice. The middle-aged woman was devoted to helping victims flee dangerous situations. No, she had already put herself in enough danger for Jenna, although maybe Patrice could offer some advice.

The flash of blue and red lights sparked through the truck’s rearview mirror. Jenna’s heart leaped into her throat.

They’d found her.


THREE (#ua053ccce-31ec-58c3-83da-dc2bf9428d41)

“License and registration, please,” a deep male voice said.

Matt forced his eyes open. He was in the passenger seat, and a uniformed officer stood at the driver’s window.

“I’m sorry, Officer, was I speeding?” Jenna asked from behind the wheel of Matt’s truck.

Jenna North was driving his truck?

“No, ma’am, but your left taillight is out,” the cop said.

“Oh, thank you for letting us know.”

“You’re welcome. I’d still like to see your license and registration.”

Jenna nodded at Matt, who read fear in her green eyes.

“Honey, can you get the registration?” she said.

Honey? Why was she calling him honey? And why did his head feel like someone had used it as a soccer ball?

“Sir, are you all right?” The cop aimed his flashlight into the vehicle.

Matt put up his hand to block the piercing beam. “My head,” is all that came out.

“We’re on the way to the hospital,” Jenna said. “He was mugged and has a head injury.”

The cop nodded, speculative. He started to aim the beam into the back seat.

“Please don’t wake the baby,” she said.

The baby? What have you gotten yourself into, Matt?

“I still need to see your license and registration,” the cop said.

She pulled her license out of her wallet. Matt dug the registration out of the glove box and passed it, and his license, to the officer.

“Did you file a police report about the mugging?” the officer asked, scanning the registration.

“We will, Officer, but I wanted to get him checked out first,” she said in a frantic tone.

Jenna North, development manager of the Broadlake Foundation, was worried about Matt.

What had happened to him?

His mind drew a blank. He’d obviously lost the past few, what, hours? Days? The amnesia had to be related to the headache clawing its way across his skull. He was suffering from a concussion. But how had it happened?

Bigger question—why did he have an urgent need to protect Miss North and...a baby?

He looked over his shoulder. There was a sleeping child in the back seat. Whose? Jenna’s? No, she wasn’t married, didn’t have a boyfriend or even date, if you believed the locals. She was a transplant from Tulsa with a generous heart, a woman who used her social and financial talents to raise money for the Broadlake Foundation.

“Please wait here,” the cop said and left them alone.

Jenna turned to Matt. “They’re going to find us. What do we do?”

She could tell him what was going on, for starters.

“Matthew?”

The way she spoke his name made it sound like they were close, like they knew each other outside of working in the same building. Sure, he might have imagined dating someone like Jenna, a lovely woman determined to help people. Only he didn’t remember ever grabbing coffee with her or chatting outside of work. He was on the job and, even if he weren’t, he’d made a promise to himself to avoid romantic entanglements.

“What’s he doing?” she said, eyeing the rearview mirror.

“Patience,” he said. “He’s running the registration. It’s procedure.”

He closed his eyes, fighting back the anxiety taunting him. He’d have to confess his condition because he needed her help to navigate through the temporary amnesia. Matt sensed she needed his help as well.

“Aren’t you worried?” she asked.

He opened his eyes, but couldn’t admit the truth: that he was terrified because he’d lost a chunk of time.

“No, of course you’re not worried, you’re FBI,” she muttered and studied the rearview.

She knew the truth? Which meant what—that she was helping with the investigation? Was that possible? Because he didn’t remember her being ruled out as a suspect.

He needed to remember.

“He’s coming back,” she said, sitting straight.

The officer, who Matt realized was a state trooper, stepped up to her window and passed her the licenses and registration. “The closest medical facility is St. James Healthcare. I’ll escort you.”

“We wouldn’t want to take you away from your duties, Officer,” she said.

“You’re not. Follow me.”

She closed the window and sighed. “Now what?” she asked Matt. “Should I ditch him?”

“Ditch him?” he repeated in a sarcastic tone.

“Bad idea, huh?”

“Pretty bad, yeah.”

“What if he called Billings? What if he’s on their payroll? What if they’re waiting at the hospital? What if—”

“Slow down, speedy. You’re making my headache worse.”

“Sorry, sorry.” The squad car passed them and she followed. “I wish I could get ahold of Marcus.”

“Who’s Marcus?”

“Chloe’s cousin. He’s supposed to help.”

“Ma’am?”

“What?” She shot him a quick glance.

“Chloe...?”

“Mrs. McFadden,” she said. “You remember.”

Mrs. McFadden—sure, he knew her. She was on the development board and helped with fund-raising events. All roads to the money-laundering investigation led to Mrs. McFadden’s husband, Gary, but they didn’t have enough to build a case. They’d even considered that his wife might be involved.

“Matthew?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m having some...memory challenges.”

“Oh.”

He heard the disappointment in her voice, as if she’d been relying on him to protect her and the child. But that hadn’t been his assignment. His assignment was to work as a custodian in the foundation office, be invisible and gather information. Keep an eye on nighttime activity, determine if they were not only laundering money for the cartel but were also distributing drugs out of the community center.

“Blows to the head can do that,” she offered. “Don’t freak out. It’s usually temporary.”

“How would you know that?”

She shrugged. There was more to it, but she wasn’t sharing. Why would she? She was stuck with a helpless man and...a child.

“So, the child is Mrs. McFadden’s?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Where is Mrs. McFadden?”

She gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers.

“Miss North?” he prompted.

“Jenna, call me Jenna,” she said, with slight irritation in her voice.

“Okay, Jenna. Why is Mrs. McFadden’s child in my truck?”

“She asked me to protect him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Chief Billings killed Chloe,” she blurted out in a pained voice.

He glanced out the passenger window and fisted his hand to stop his fingers from trembling. Men like Matt didn’t tremble, and they didn’t let fear run rampant. Yet this was the first time he’d awakened with a chunk of his life missing, like it had never happened, and he was forced to rely on a stranger to fill in the blanks.

Well, not a complete stranger. He’d done a background check on all the foundation employees to help identify which ones were the most likely to be involved in the money-laundering activity. Matt still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that all roads led to the small, quaint town of Cedar River, Montana, known for its world-class scones and snow sports, headquarters of the international and altruistic Broadlake Foundation.

His supervisor had gotten Matt a job as the night custodian, and during the day he continued surveillance at the hot spots in town. They suspected money was being filtered through the foundation in the form of donations, only they couldn’t determine who was orchestrating the mystery deposits into the accounts. Everyone had been suspect, even the town’s police chief, who was on the governing board.

If what Jenna said was true, it confirmed Chief Billings’s involvement. Matt didn’t remember seeing the murder, but Jenna had.

Which meant she was a key witness—and her life was in serious danger.

He’d always sensed wariness about Jenna, even though she covered it with a bright smile and polite manners. His job required him to pay attention to the little things, the way her shoulders jerked at unexpected sounds and how she’d clenched her jaw when a drunk, homeless man wandered into the center and refused to leave. Matt had come to her rescue that night, escorting him outside and waiting for Kyle to take the belligerent man into custody.

Something had happened to Jenna North that didn’t show up on a routine background check. Yet it seemed like she’d lived an unremarkable life before moving to Cedar River.

He tapped a closed fist against his knee. How could he remember details about Miss North’s background but couldn’t remember what happened to him in the past...what? How much time had he lost?

“Can you please tell me what happened tonight?” he said.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

He closed his eyes. “The Avalanche were winning. I was in my office listening to the game.”

“You don’t remember Chloe screaming?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Or finding me outside with Eli?”

“No. I need to figure out how much time I’ve lost.”

She recounted what happened in the last hour, starting with her friend being strangled, Jenna asking Matt to drop her at the truck stop and then her coming to his rescue after he was assaulted in the parking lot.

“That’s pretty much it,” she said.

Not quite. “I left you at the truck stop when I knew you were in danger? That doesn’t sound like me.”

“A misunderstanding.” She hesitated. “I thought you were a serial killer.”

He shot her a look of disbelief.

“What? You had a gun, zip ties and duct tape in your glove box.”

“The gun and zip ties are for work. I used the duct tape to fix a broken hose.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” she said.

“Trusting doesn’t come easy for you, does it?”

“I trusted Chloe,” she said quietly.

Silence stretched between them.

“Why were you working undercover at the community center?” she asked.

How much should he tell her? He knew she needed enough information to make good decisions.

“We think a drug cartel is laundering money through the foundation,” he said. “By taking a job at the center and assimilating into the community, my goal was to discover who’s involved.”

“Assimilating into the community?”

“Through work, volunteering, attending church.”

“That seems hypocritical, to pretend to attend church.”

“I wasn’t pretending. I enjoy church.”

“Whatever.”

He’d upset her but wasn’t sure why. He’d figure that out later. In the meantime, he’d call for backup. He searched his pocket for his phone but came up empty.

“Your phone’s in the console,” she said.

He looked at her.

“You dropped it when they attacked you.”

“Thanks.”

“And here, you’ll probably need this.” She pulled his gun magazine out of her pocket and handed it to him.

He took it, trying to figure out why she had it.

“I thought you were a serial killer, remember?” she said.

“Right.” He pulled the gun out of his waistband, shoved the magazine in place and put it in the glove box.

“You’re not keeping it on you?”

“It’ll raise questions in the hospital and I don’t want to jeopardize my assignment.”

“Oh, right.”

Matt called his supervisor, pressing the heel of his palm against his temple to ease the pain. It went to voice mail. “It’s Weller. I was assaulted and need backup. Send an agent to St. James Healthcare in Butte. I’m with a woman and child who need our protection.” He pocketed his phone and leaned against the headrest.

“You don’t have to take care of us,” Jenna said.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re not your problem.”

“No, you’re not my problem. You’re my responsibility.”

She smirked and looked away. Why? She didn’t know anything about Matt. She didn’t know how he’d failed Sarah.

“I’d like to find Chloe’s cousin to help us, not be taken into FBI custody,” she said.

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

She shook her head, unconvinced. Man, what had happened to this woman?

A few minutes later they exited the highway, and she turned into the hospital parking lot. “Do you want me to drop you at the main entrance?” she offered.

“No, we should stick together until help arrives.”

She found a parking spot, turned off the vehicle and tried to hand him the keys.

“Keep them. Just in case.”

“I can’t take your truck.”

“For my peace of mind.”

With a curious frown, she got out of the car and retrieved the sleeping child. His head rested on her shoulder as she carried him through the parking lot.

“Want me to carry him?” he offered.

“You’ve got a concussion. You shouldn’t be carrying anything.”

Good point, which just went to show that his brain was muddled. As they approached the hospital, the state trooper joined them. “I’ve gotta go. When you’re done being treated, call this number.” He handed Matt a business card. “They’ll send someone to take your statement.”

“Thanks,” Matt said.

The cop turned to Jenna. “Ma’am, don’t worry. They’ll take good care of your husband.”

When Jenna didn’t correct the “husband” remark, Matt glanced at her. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. Why? Because she was worried about Matt’s condition? No, something else was going on.

“Thanks again, Officer,” Matt said, and motioned Jenna inside.

Once they were seated in the waiting area, he noticed her hand trembling as she stroked the little boy’s back.

“It’ll be okay,” Matt offered. “Help’s on the way.”

No reaction. She didn’t nod, shrug or even roll her eyes. She continued to stare straight ahead with a dazed look on her face.

“Jenna?”

She seemed lost in another world, as if she was having a flashback, and not a good one. He touched her arm that held the boy against her shoulder. She didn’t look at him. The child was asleep, sucking on a pacifier and clinging to his stuffed bear.

Matt slid a chair in front of her and blocked her view. “Jenna, look at me.”

She blinked, and her wounded green eyes connected with Matt’s. It felt like he’d been slugged in the gut.

“You’re okay,” he said.

“I...I don’t like hospitals.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“To make you not like hospitals?”

She took a deep breath, opened her mouth and closed it again. Then she said, “I got hurt.”

The way she articulated those three words reminded him of a little girl who’d fallen on the playground. But Jenna wasn’t a little girl, and he suspected she’d suffered a lot worse than a skinned knee.

“You’re not hurt now,” he said, gently squeezing her shoulder. “You’re A-okay.”

She was more than okay in Matt’s eyes. This woman was strong, smart and determined to do the right thing, to protect her friend’s child.

“I won’t be okay until this little boy is safe with his cousin.” The fear in her eyes turned to anger.

“I understand, but I need to ask you something. What about the boy’s father? I mean, at this point you could be accused of kidnapping.”

“His mother begged me to protect Eli, especially from Gary. What would you have me do, hand him over to an abusive father?”

“Of course not, but there are laws and procedures for cases like this.”

“What about the law for murder? Or does that not apply to cops? The police are obviously involved, so excuse me if I don’t have much faith in the law.”

“If Chief Billings killed—”

“If? You don’t believe me?”

“I do, but we need more than your word. In the meantime, we have to protect you and the little boy. My people can help.”

“Cops won’t help me.”

“The chief is one bad cop out of what, twenty on the Cedar River Police force? That doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” That I’m bad.

“Chloe’s husband is wealthy. I’m sure he can make them bad by throwing money at them.”

“You’re awfully cynical for such a young woman.”

“Well, at least I’m not dead.”

That comment stopped him cold. Was she referring to her friend or herself? Had someone threatened Jenna’s life, putting her in the hospital?

“Mr. Weller?” a nurse said from the examining room door.

He put up his hand, indicating he’d heard her. Matt studied Jenna. “Will you come in with me?”

She looked at him but didn’t answer.

“I don’t want to leave you and the child alone,” he said.

With a nod, she stood and accompanied him into the examining area.

* * *

Jenna managed to keep Eli comfortable and asleep, Bubba the bear wedged firmly between the child’s cheek and Jenna’s shoulder. As the doctor put a few stitches in Matthew’s head wound and examined his other injuries—bruised ribs and a reddened cheek—she struggled to distance herself from the situation. Not easy when she was surrounded by the smells, sights and sounds that triggered violent memories.

Her left eye swollen shut.

Pain piercing across her torso every time she drew a breath.

Knowing that she’d lost her baby, even before the doctor had told her.

As she rocked with Eli in her arms, she decided she had to get out of this hospital before she completely lost it and burst into uncontrollable tears.

Snap out of it. Stop thinking about yourself, and focus on the little boy.

“Want me to hold him?” Matt asked.

She glanced up. They were alone in the examining area. The doctor and nurse had left and she hadn’t even noticed. She must pay more attention to her surroundings.

“Are you ready to go?” she said.

“Not quite. The nurse is getting me an ice bag and ibuprofen to take home.” He shook his head. “Home? What am I talking about?” he muttered.

“How’s your... Did you tell them about your memory?”

“No. Didn’t want to give them a reason to admit me.”

“Maybe they should do a CT scan.”

“Not necessary. You’re not the only one who’s suffered a concussion before.”

She sensed his comment was meant to be an opening for her to share more about herself. But that was not happening. Ever. The shame would choke her before the words passed her lips.

“It will be okay,” Matthew said.

He was offering comfort because he sensed how stressed she was, how nervous and maybe even terrified about what would happen next. The list of options flashed across her mind—she’d be arrested for kidnapping; Eli would be handed back to his abusive father and Jenna would be imprisoned for trying to save a child; or worse—she’d be found by Chief Billings.

The image of Chloe’s lifeless body dropping to the floor sent shockwaves of fear all the way to her fingertips. The little boy sighed and stirred against her shoulder. It gave her strength.

She stood. “I’m glad you’re okay, Matthew.”

“I hear a but at the end of that sentence.”

“I need to find Chloe’s cousin Marcus.”

“We can help with that.”

“But you won’t, will you? You’ll be required to place Eli back with his father.”

“As I said, if you have proof that he is harming the child—”

“Chloe’s word is enough for me.”

“I understand, but it may not be enough for the law.”

“The law.” She couldn’t stop a sardonic chuckle from escaping her lips. “I don’t care about the law. I care about protecting this little boy.”

“I can’t let you leave.” He shifted off the exam table.

Panic shot through her body. Not again. She couldn’t deal with another domineering man.

You’ll never leave me.

Her mind whirred with options as she clung tighter to Eli. Why had she trusted Matthew?

“Jenna?” he said.

She stared across the room at an IV stand, planning her escape. He placed his hand on her shoulder. She nearly jerked away, but didn’t want to upset the child.

“Don’t touch me,” she ground out.

He withdrew his hand and studied her.

“I’m trying to help,” he said. “I don’t want you to be arrested for kidnapping.”

She was about to fire back a retort when the nurse returned with an ice bag and pain reliever. “Everything okay?” she asked, glancing from Matthew to Jenna.

No, it wasn’t okay. She’d been trapped in a cage again, unable to break free.

“We’re good,” Matt said.

“Someone’s asking for you out front,” the nurse said to him and left.

As he headed for the door, he turned to Jenna. “Wait here.”

What did that mean? That he didn’t trust his own people—the agent who was asking for him?

The moment he left the examining room, she grabbed the diaper and messenger bags. There was an exit on the other side of the room. Perfect.

Was she overreacting? No, Matthew’s comment about custody and giving this precious child back to his father had strengthened Jenna’s resolve to keep Eli safe and away from that monster.

A monster like Jenna’s ex.

I can’t let you leave. Matthew’s words came back to her. Did he belong in the monster category as well?

Holding Eli against her shoulder, she went to the door and cracked it open to determine the positions of Matthew and the agent. The waiting area was empty. Strange.

“I can’t help you, sir,” a receptionist said. There was something in her voice...

Fear.

Jenna cracked the door a little wider. She spotted two things simultaneously—Matthew on the floor, and a man, wearing all black, pointing a gun at the receptionist.

Jenna snapped out of view. It wasn’t one of the men from the community center. Which meant there was a whole army of thugs looking for her and Eli?

Struggling against fear that threatened to consume her, she rushed to the other door, swung it open and started down the back hall. She had to get away. Find Marcus. Get this child into the hands of someone who could protect him.

Guilt snagged her conscience. She’d brought danger into a hospital full of innocent staff members and patients.

The minute she and Eli were safely away, she’d call police about the gunman in the lobby.

“Stop right there,” a male voice demanded.


FOUR (#ua053ccce-31ec-58c3-83da-dc2bf9428d41)

Jenna froze, her heart pounding in her ears.

She gripped Eli tighter, whispering against his knit hat, “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

No, don’t you dare give up.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave,” the man said.

Did he just say I’m sorry?

She turned and was relieved to see a hospital security officer walking toward her.

“There’s a man with a gun—”

“Take it easy.” He put out his right hand as he approached, like he was calming a wild stallion. His left hand rested on a club at his hip.

“In the lobby—a gunman is threatening your staff.”

In a placating tone he said, “I need you to come with me.”

Her gaze darted toward Matthew’s exam room. Any second now the thug would figure out Jenna was close, and he’d come bursting through the door.

“Please, ma’am,” the security officer, a gray-haired man in his midsixties, said.

Every inch of her body screamed to get out of here. If she ran she wouldn’t get far, with two bags strapped across her shoulders and clutching a toddler in her arms. The security guy would chase after her, probably sound the alarm, drawing even more attention to Jenna and Eli’s presence.

“Why do I need to come with you?” she said.

He sighed and took his hand off the club resting at his hip. “I received an informal request to keep an eye out for a young woman and a child who went missing from Cedar River.”

“That’s not me.”

“Then I’m sure we can clear it up quickly. Please, I need you to come to my office.”

The problem was, his office was in the same building where a kidnapper—probably more than one—was looking for Jenna and Eli.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Refusing would make her look guilty. All she needed to do was act innocent and agreeable, and once he went to check on the situation out front she’d sneak away.

With a nod, she walked alongside him, fearing he’d pull out cuffs, but he didn’t. Of course not—he wouldn’t cuff a woman carrying a child.

As he led her down the hall, her instincts remained on full alert, and her mind calculated options, solutions. When they made a left turn, she spotted an exit up ahead. Not wanting to give away her thoughts, she turned her attention to Eli, whispering sweet words against his cheek, acting like a loving mom.

A sharp pain lanced through her chest and she shoved it aside. She had to convince the guard she was Eli’s mother, not some crazy woman who’d kidnapped a child.

He opened the door to his office and motioned to a chair beside his desk. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Aren’t you going to call the police about the gunman out front?”

“I’ll check it out.”

“No, he’s dangerous, he’s—”

He shut the door on her protest. Foolish man—he wasn’t capable of dealing with these violent criminals.

She grabbed the doorknob and twisted. It was locked.





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