In Need of Protection

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

“Dolf Seton is half human bloodhound, if you want something or someone found, and half cold-blooded killer, if you don’t care who dies during the search.”

  Ms. Werth cuddled the infant closer. “I know his intention was to scare me, but would the man really have killed me?”

  “Seton would’ve killed you without a blink or a qualm if you’d stood between him and his objective. He probably would’ve shot you after he grabbed Maisy, simply to tie up loose ends. This is the sort of person Vincent Drayton has assigned to locate and seize his granddaughter. We believe now that his son is at large, Vincent intends to grab the child and flee the country with his family. Hopefully, we can continue to thwart his efforts and lure him and Ronnie out into the open and arrest them.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Ms. Werth gaped at him. “The baby is bait? I knew there was a motive deeper than protection somewhere in the mix.”

  “Not deeper.” Ethan heaved a large sigh. “We absolutely want to keep the baby safe, but we also want to make the world safe from the Draytons and their gunrunning operation. They don’t care who buys their weapons as long as they get paid.”

  “They sell to terrorists?”

  Ethan nodded. “And Maisy won’t truly be safe until they are put away.”

  Ms. Werth’s gaze lowered toward the baby. “I do want her safe.” The tone was thoughtful now, not adversarial. “But what she really deserves is to have her mother with her. Can you find Isabelle?” She directed a pleading expression toward Ethan.

  That wide green-mixed-with-gold gaze ambushed him and melted a layer of the shield around his heart. The last time he’d let down his emotional guard on the job, people had almost died, including a child. Thankfully, everyone survived and the investigation had exonerated him of any fault. But he still wondered if he’d allowed his judgment to be impaired by his affections. History was not going to repeat itself.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “We’ll certainly try. And not just the marshals service. Multiple law enforcement agencies are in on the manhunt. If you don’t want Maisy in the care of a social worker, are you willing to come under marshals service protection with her? You probably should do that anyway. Even if we remove the child from your custody, the Draytons are likely to send someone after you to find out if you know where Izzy or Maisy are. The situation would not turn out well for you.”

  “I don’t know. I—”

  “Hey, Ethan!” Terry entered the room at a trot. The guy rarely did anything slowly. “I’m going to ride to the hospital with our suspect, make sure he gets his wound treated and then question him about the Draytons. You got everything under control in here?”

  “Deputy Ridgeway was just explaining my options to me,” Ms. Werth answered before Ethan could get a word out. “Nothing’s been decided yet.”

  “Cute kid.” Terry stepped forward and ran his finger under Maisy’s chin. The baby chortled and kicked, sending milk bubbles down her little chin. “Ticklish, huh?” He grinned at Ms. Werth.

  Lara answered with a dazzling smile that transformed her face from head-turning pretty to eat-your-heart-out gorgeous. Ethan mentally kicked himself for noticing.

  “Ms. Werth and Maisy Drayton are under my protection,” Ethan said, his tone a shade more forceful than he’d intended, and his reluctant hostess awarded him a cold stare.

  “Sounds good,” Terry said. “I’ll see you at the safe house.” Ethan’s partner waved and loped out the door.

  Ethan turned toward Ms. Werth. “I don’t see that you have any options if you truly care about the safety of this baby and yourself.”

  The woman frowned. “I wish you weren’t right, but I’m not one to cut off my nose to spite my face. Maisy’s finished eating now.” She popped the empty bottle from the infant’s mouth. “I’ll get her stuff and my go bag.”

  “You have a go bag?” Ethan’s eyes widened.

  She smirked at him. “I’m a nature-photography vlogger. I always keep a full backpack of travel essentials. You—” she waved a hand in his direction “—can get the infant carrier from the spare bedroom—Oh, no!”

  “What?”

  “We don’t have the base for the car seat.”

  “There’s a car seat piece that a baby carrier fits into sitting out on the porch. I noticed it when I kicked Seton’s gun away.”

  “Observant.” A mild grin crossed her face.

  A spot of warmth formed under Ethan’s breastbone. He squashed it. What did he care that she’d said something nice about him? This woman was his charge, and he was doing his job. Nothing more. Ethan gave himself another mental kick. Why was he even having this internal conversation?

  Within a gratifyingly brief five minutes, they were headed out the door toward the deputy’s vehicle. Going down the sidewalk, Ms. Werth sent a longing look over her shoulder at her house, but then pointed her face forward. Ethan wrestled the car seat into place in the back seat of his SUV, and Ms. Werth snapped the carrier into place.

  “Easier than I thought it would be,” she said. “I’ll ride in the back with Maisy.”

  “Good idea.” At least there wasn’t going to be debate on this subject.

  Ethan got behind the wheel and started the vehicle. He pulled smoothly away from the curb and onto the quiet road of the modest but well-kept residential cul-de-sac. Ahead of them, from a busy cross street, a full-sized black sedan turned onto Ms. Werth’s road and then a second one pulled up right beside the first, blocking the road. Ethan’s heart formed a fist.

  “Remember my question about not wanting more of Drayton’s hired guns on your doorstep?”

  “Of course,” his charge answered.

  “They’re here.”

  TWO

  “Do a U-turn,” Lara blurted out.

  “But we’re in a cul-de-sac. There’s no way out.”

  “I know a way.” No time to second-guess herself now.

  Deputy Marshal Ridgeway whipped the SUV around. He’d complied without further question? She could examine her astonishment at his lack of argument later.

  “There!” She pointed toward a paved bike trail that led between two houses opposite hers on the street. “That trail leads out onto a through street.”

  Shouts came from behind them, commanding them to stop, but the deputy gave his vehicle gas and they lunged toward the slot between the houses. A gunshot reverberated, and Lara ducked, but there was no shattering of glass or ping of bullet against metal indicating they were hit. Another shot, but again there was no sign the bullet had done any damage.

  The walls of the homes flashed past on either side of their SUV, and they broke into the open, straddling the slight dip that was the bike trail between the two backyards. With a jolt, they hopped the curb onto the street beyond. Horns honked as they darted into moderate traffic, but the deputy marshal performed a smooth right turn and merged into the flow.

  “That was close,” Lara said. “I’m amazed we weren’t hit when those goons started shooting.”

  “They were trying to scare us into surrendering, not endanger the baby by actually hitting us. If they shot this kid they’re assigned to abduct, the Draytons would shoot them.”

  “But that doesn’t mean they won’t kill you or me if they get the opportunity?”

  “Now you’re catching on.”

  “Where are we going? Vincent Drayton’s people are in town looking for us, and now they know what you’re driving.”

  “I don’t dare head straight for the safe house. We’d just pull our enemies after us. Guide me to the police station. You and Maisy can be protected there until we can figure out a way to get you to a secret, secure location.”

  “Keep going straight on this road until I tell you to turn.” Lara’s stomach twisted. “How long will Maisy and I need to hide in this ‘secret, secure location’? That’s no way to live.”

  “Imp
ossible to say, Ms. Werth, but we’ll do our best to capture the Draytons as quickly as possible.”

  “Call me Lara. Now that we’ve been shot at and fled from gunmen together, it seems silly to stand on ceremony.”

  “Deal. And I’m Ethan. I’ll be on your protection detail, so we could be spending a significant amount of time in each other’s company.”

  Ethan got on his radio and notified the station they were coming while Lara settled back in her seat and checked on the baby. The little girl seemed unfazed by the wild activity. In fact, her eyes were drifting closed. Time for the morning nap, apparently. Smiling, Lara took one of Maisy’s hands, and the infant curled her fist around Lara’s pointer finger as her whole tiny body went limp in peaceful slumber. There went that warm, gooey effect the baby had on Lara’s insides.

  If things had worked out between her and Matt, she might have her own baby by now. But then, marrying her ex-fiance would have been a horrible mistake, nearly on par with Izzy’s choice of husband. Little Maisy, though, was a treasure nobody could regret.

  Ethan said there hadn’t been enough time for her to form an attachment, but this little one may as well have grabbed Lara by the heart as by the hand. Lara was a goner, and it was going to be a tremendous wrench when the time came to give Maisy back to her mother.

  “You can turn left at this next stoplight,” she told Ethan. “We’re only about a mile from the police station now. Mostly a straight shot with one more right turn onto Pearl Avenue.”

  “Let’s speed this up, shall we.” Ethan flipped some switches, and the vehicle’s sirens and lights came on.

  Traffic ahead and around them moved aside as they roared up the road. Lara gripped her armrest tightly as they sped toward safety. Her gaze darted here and there, attempting to read the traffic for danger, but dark sedans were all over the place. It was impossible to tell which ones might contain enemies. They’d probably left their attackers behind, but being shot at tended to cause hypervigilance.

  She didn’t have Maisy’s ability to simply relax and trust. Blithe confidence used to come easily, but that was before she’d invested her future in Matthew Sebring and found out how duplicitous and manipulative some human beings could be. That horrendous breakup, practically on the eve of the wedding, had left her with emotional scars as well as an aversion to any hint of being bossed around or controlled. Probably why her guard had gone up automatically against Ethan’s overconfident assumptions about what she should do with Maisy.

  Lara rubbed her thumb across the back of the baby’s little hand. The skin was soft and smooth as warm butter. God, please help. This little one deserves Your watchful care.

  “We’re going to protect you,” Lara whispered to the child. “You can trust us.”

  “We’ve got an escort,” Ethan said as, halfway to their destination, a pair of marked police cars joined them. One took the lead position and the other pulled into formation at their rear.

  At last they drove into the parking lot of the stone-fronted civic building, with its large round clocks on three sides of a short tower crowning the entrance. The officers emerged from their vehicles and escorted Ethan and her, carrying her go pack, the baby’s bag and Maisy still sleeping in her carrier. Once through the doors, Ethan went into the bowels of the building with an officer. Another one guided Lara and Maisy to what must serve as a small conference room. Vague odors of scorched coffee and stale pastries tinged the air. Lara set the carrier on a table, took a seat and put her head in her hands.

  She should probably call her mother and let her know what was going on, but she dreaded the difficult conversation. Mom would worry and fuss and feel helpless. But what if her mom was in danger, too? These people knew who Lara was, and clearly, they were determined and ruthless. Would they try to use her mother to get her to give up Maisy? Or was Lara being melodramatic from watching cop shows on television?

  Lara lifted her head from her hands to find Ethan standing in front of her. An involuntary jerk flowed through her body. The man moved like a panther, stone quiet and loose-limbed. His blond hair was a slightly lighter shade than hers, and his eyes were more hazel brown than her hazel green with gold highlights.

  Those piercing eyes studied her now. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m worried about my mother.”

  The man pursed his lips. “Is she your closest relative?”

  “Yes. My dad passed away nearly fifteen years ago. There are a few uncles, aunts and cousins, but we’re not close with them. Too scattered all over the country.”

  “Good thinking about your mom. Where does she live, her place of work, that sort of thing?”

  “Mom lives in Chicago. That’s where I grew up—where I knew Isabelle from high school. My mother’s name is Doris. She volunteers all over the place and organizes charity events. I can give you her home address and phone number and name a few of the charities where she donates her time. I have no idea what her schedule is today.”

  Lara gave Ethan the information, and he took note of it.

  “I’ll notify my office to locate her and put her in custody for the time being,” he said with a nod.

  Lara snorted. “I’ll be impressed if you can pull that off. She’s a stubborn creature of habit and not likely to let her daily activities be disrupted by murderous thugs or officious deputies.”

  A smile lit Ethan’s face, and it stripped away the businesslike air that he exuded. Lara dropped her gaze. No ring on his finger. That didn’t mean he wasn’t married, but it increased the probability of singleness. Of course, she couldn’t allow his marital status to matter to her, especially when the guy was too good-looking for her peace of mind.

  Not to mention forceful, smooth talking and turn-you-to-putty beguiling when he smiled. All part of the recipe that had sucked her in once before. Ethan didn’t look anything like Matt, but their behavior traits were too similar for her to feel comfortable in his presence. Of course, Ethan had listened to her advice when they were escaping the cul-de-sac. Something Matt never would have done.

  “Sounds like my mother,” Ethan said. “Maybe you should call her first. Give her a heads-up. Want me to give you some space?”

  “Please.” Lara unzipped the pocket of her go bag that held her phone. She pulled out her cell as Ethan panther-prowled from the room. She dragged her eyes off his broad back and onto her phone. As she was about to tap the screen and initiate the call, a throat cleared from the vicinity of the doorway. Lara looked up.

  A freckle-faced woman wearing a dark pantsuit and a serious expression stood in front of her. “Please come with me, ma’am. We have more comfortable accommodations arranged for you and the baby.”

  “I was just about to call my mother.”

  “You can call from there. It’s not far.”

  With a mental grumble, Lara put her phone away, shouldered her go bag and picked up the baby’s bag and carrier. The woman escorted her up a hallway, striding about half a step behind Lara. Something in the tension of the stranger’s carriage raised the hairs at Lara’s nape.

  “Where are we going?” Lara began to slow her gait, but her escort crowded in close to her side and something hard poked her in the ribs. A gun? A shiver coursed down Lara’s spine.

  “Not a sound,” the woman hissed. “Keep moving straight ahead.”

  A fair distance away stood a large metal door marked Exit. They passed a small office where a woman sat typing, her gaze riveted on her computer screen. They moved past another room where the door stood slightly ajar. Several voices carried to Lara, one of them Ethan’s.

  The gun jabbed her hard. “Not a peep!” her captor said in a tone of velvet-wrapped steel.

  No doubt existed in Lara’s mind that this woman would shoot her without a second thought. She was on her own against a killer who wanted to kidnap the baby in her charge. It would all be over for her if she allowed this
woman to take them out of this building.

  She had to do something. But what? She was no ninja fighter. Ah, but she was fit and fast from long hours of hiking and climbing to photograph and film her vlogs.

  At her next step, Lara pretended to stumble forward. She released the baby bag and the carrier, which hit the floor with a small thump. Crouching and keeping herself between the gun and Maisy, she whirled her heavy go-bag toward her captor in one smooth motion. The woman cried out and her gun went off. Scrambling away, Lara lost her footing and hit the floor hard on her backside. She gaped up at the killer she’d struck with her pack. The woman’s lips peeled back from her teeth in a snarl as she recovered from the blow and took aim straight at Lara’s face.

  * * *

  The sound of a gunshot zinged an electrical charge through Ethan. Drawing his weapon, he raced into the hallway and pulled the trigger on the armed woman standing over Lara. Another shot echoed his own. The woman had fired, but she was already going down from being hit by Ethan’s bullet. Her shot went wild, striking the light fixture above their heads.

  “Lara, are you all right?” Ethan called.

  “Maisy!” Lara cried out as she scrambled toward the car seat, where the startled baby had begun to wail. She unbuckled Maisy from the seat and gathered the infant into her arms.

  A pair of officers crowded into the hallway and began to secure the woman Ethan had shot. Ethan skirted around them and reached Lara, who was seated on the floor, clutching the fussing baby.

  “You’re both all right?” he asked as he knelt beside them.

  “Barely.” Lara’s voice was gulping and breathless, like she’d been running a marathon. “I couldn’t let...that woman take us...out of here.”

  Ethan could hardly blame her for panicking. She was more than entitled after resisting an armed kidnapper at the risk of her own life. He leaned closer, patting Lara on the back and stroking the infant’s downy head. The delicate floral scent of Lara’s shampoo accented by the crispness of a woodsy soap graced his nostrils. Much like the woman herself, delicate on the outside but sturdy as an oak on the inside.