by Hope White
“Let’s start down there,” the guy said.
Whit instinctively slowed down, and the guy pressed the gun into his back. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem.”
Big problem. They were only fifteen or so feet from Carly and Mia.
He had to end this before they opened the door to Carly’s examining room.
Whit took a deep breath. He was the last line of defense for Carly and the baby. He didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.
Of being overpowered by a gunman.
Ten feet away.
He slowed his breathing and tried to get a handle on the adrenaline pumping through him. The guy probably didn’t think Whit, with one arm in a sling, was a threat. He silently thanked Carly for ordering him to re-sling his arm.
Five feet away.
He prepared himself for an assault. Fisted his hand.
A door cracked open behind them, distracting the gunman.
Whit elbowed the guy in the ribs and dodged out of the line of fire. The examining room door slammed shut. Whit shoved the guy back against the wall with such force the weapon jarred loose from his hand and hit the floor. Whit kicked it into an open room. The guy slammed his fist against Whit’s shoulder injury and he reeled back.
The guy made a move for his gun.
Whit withdrew his firearm and yanked his other arm out of the sling. “Police, freeze!”
The guy turned and slowly raised his hands.
“Hands against the wall,” Whit ordered.
The corner of the gunman’s eye twitched slightly. “You’re a cop. Just my luck.”
“I said, hands against the wall.”
Sirens echoed in the distance, and the perp cocked his head, eyes flaring.
The guy turned slowly to face the wall. Whit didn’t have cuffs, so they’d just have to wait.
Another examining room door suddenly opened.
The guy grabbed the patient, a woman in her forties.
She screamed and he wrapped his arm around her, using her as a shield. There was no way Whit could fire his weapon and the guy knew it.
With a victorious smile, the perp backed up and then shoved the woman at Whit, who braced her fall. The guy took off through the waiting area.
“Are you okay?” he asked the woman.
She nodded that she was. Whit went in pursuit, fearing that even without his gun the guy would take an innocent patient hostage.
Instead, he sped out the front exit. Whit paused in the waiting area to ask everyone if they were okay. They nodded that they were.
Whit bolted outside and caught sight of the guy peeling out of the lot in an SUV. Whit went back into the clinic, wrote down the plate number on a piece of paper and gave it to the receptionist, who was cowering beside the desk.
“It’s okay. He’s gone,” Whit said. “Give this to police when they arrive.”
He handed the young woman the slip of paper and went to check on Carly and the baby, realizing how badly things could have gone, how close they’d come to disaster.
It’s okay. Carly and the baby were safe.
He opened the door to their examining room.
Empty.
A familiar feeling curdled his gut, the same feeling he’d experienced this morning at the lodge.
“Carly?” He noticed the open window and crossed the room to look outside. He saw his truck still parked out back, not that she could have taken it without the keys.
Man, you either trust her or don’t trust her.
Although his intellect fought it, he realized he trusted her with Mia’s life, which made him wonder...
“Carly!” he shouted out the window.
She popped out from behind a gray sedan in the parking lot.
“What are you doing out there?” he said.
“Hiding.”
“Come back inside.” He motioned to her.
She glanced nervously from side to side before crossing the parking lot. He took a fussy Mia from Carly’s arms and wanted to offer his other hand to help Carly back inside but needed both arms to keep Mia secure against his chest.
Carly didn’t seem to need his help. She deftly climbed through the window.
“You have to stop doing that,” he said.
“What?” She reached for Mia.
“Disappearing.”
“I’m used to watching out for myself and I had to protect the baby.”
“That’s my responsibility.”
“Well, if something happens to you—”
“You mean like yesterday.”
“No, I meant—”
“We’ve gotta go.” He motioned her out of the room.
“What happened in the waiting area?”
“I’ll tell you in the truck.”
“How did they find us?”
“No idea.” He led her down the hall to a side door and into the parking lot, continuing to scan the area for trouble. He wouldn’t assume they were out of danger and wanted to get back to the inn, where they’d be safe. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Wait!” a man called from the clinic.
Whit encouraged Carly to walk faster. He pressed the fob, unlocked the door and handed her the keys. “Wait in the truck.”
She did as ordered without any discussion. Slipping his hand inside his jacket for his gun, he turned...
A sheriff’s deputy was heading toward him. Whit dropped his hand to his side to keep it in plain sight.
“You’re the guy who chased off the assailant?”
“Yes, sir.” Whit pulled out his ID and badge. “Brody Whittaker. Dallas PD.”
The deputy, whose name tag read Logan, was in his midtwenties with a crew cut.
“I’ll need your statement.”
“I understand. Right now it’s critical that I get my niece and my friend back to our bed-and-breakfast. They’re in danger and we’re not sure who’s after them. This started back in Miner. Contact Detective Harper with the Summit County Sheriff’s Office for confirmation.”
“Did your friend witness what happened today?”
“No, sir.”
“Then I’ll have a deputy take them back to your inn.”
“Sorry, can’t do that. I’m responsible for their well-being,” Whit said. “You can send a deputy to the inn for my statement or I’ll give you a brief statement now. I’d rather not spend any more time here than necessary.”
“Where are you staying?” Deputy Logan asked.
“Peaceful Pines Inn, under the name Flannigan to keep our whereabouts confidential.”
“Hang on.” The deputy took a few steps away and made a call, probably to his supervisor.
As minutes ticked by, Whit grew more irritated as he scanned the premises. Talk about being exposed. Then again the assailant most likely got as far away as possible in order to avoid authorities, plus the attacker didn’t know that Whit was Mia’s uncle. He could have assumed Whit was a random cop at the right place at the right time.
The sound of a crying little girl echoed from inside the SUV. Whit glanced at the car. Even though the windows were tinted and he couldn’t see Carly, he offered a slight smile to ease her fears. She must still be flooded with adrenaline.
Deputy Logan turned to Whit. “Kurt confirmed a Mr. and Mrs. Flannigan and their daughter are staying at the inn.” He handed Whit’s wallet back. “I’ll stop by later to get a full statement.”
“Sounds good.”
Deputy Logan went back into the clinic. Whit jogged to the SUV and opened the door.
“What happened?” Carly asked as she held the baby, trying to comfort her.
“It’s all good,” Whit said. At least, until the next attack.
* * *
On the drive back to the inn, Carly noticed Whit constantly
checking the rearview and side-view mirrors. He’d even passed by the inn’s driveway a few times to determine if they were being followed. Once he was confident they weren’t, he turned onto the long drive.
Ever since they left the clinic, he’d occasionally ask how she was doing. Was she anxious? Nervous? Scared?
Although still frustrated and upset, she was no longer in fight-or-flight mode. She guessed that’s what he was trying to determine.
Now, safely in their room, Carly played with Mia on the floor while Whit puzzled through what happened at the doctor’s office.
“It’s like they’re following us but don’t know our exact location,” Whit said.
“Did he ask for Mia by name?”
“No, he asked if anyone had seen her and flashed a picture on his phone. Which makes me think he was canvassing the area because he didn’t know her specific location.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Why check a doctor’s office?” He turned to Carly. “Who knew she was sick?”
“Her parents and the cook because she was making special food for Mia.” Carly sighed. “I’m glad she wasn’t there when the men broke in.”
“The cook?”
“Mrs. Bright. She comes to the house three times a week to prepare meals for the family. She purees organic fruits and vegetables for Mia.”
“She wasn’t there yesterday?”
“No, she switched her days because she had a family conflict.”
Whit nodded, not looking satisfied with her answer or anything for that matter. He readjusted items on a small desk in the corner, looked outside and then straightened books on the shelf across the room. Carly felt his frustration.
“I think checking Mrs. Bremerton’s email could help,” Carly said.
Whit shook his head.
“You don’t think it will help?” she said.
“I’m a cop, Carly. I go by the book, not break into people’s emails.”
“We’re not breaking in. She gave me her password so I could sign on and make appointments and check things for her.”
“I thought you were just the nanny?”
Carly raised her eyebrow.
“That didn’t come out right. I meant they didn’t hire you to be an assistant. Your job was—is—to take care of Mia, not do other stuff like, I don’t know... Now I’m rambling because I’ve offended you. I’m sorry.” He paused. “I’m sorry about before, too.”
His apology seemed genuine and her walls weakened just a little. She decided to change the subject.
“How’s your bullet wound? Do I need to check the dressing?”
“Let’s concentrate on this first.”
“Okay, well, I think Mrs. B. would be fine with us going through her email if she thought it could help us protect Mia, don’t you?” When Whit hesitated again, she grabbed his tablet off the bed. “How about I sign in, just like I always do, and then you’re not doing anything off the book?”
“Interesting expression.”
Carly leaned against the bed beside Mia and signed on. Whit joined them on the floor, reaching out to steady Mia as she enthusiastically swung her arm to tap a toy xylophone the innkeepers had loaned them.
“You wouldn’t know she’s fighting a fever,” Whit said.
“Acetaminophen does wonders.” Scanning through emails, Carly said, “What am I looking for exactly?”
Whit leaned closer and she suddenly felt self-conscious. Carly hadn’t showered since yesterday and although she’d washed up, she didn’t have her things, including makeup.
Makeup? What are you thinking about, Carly? This man has no interest in you as a romantic prospect and has made it clear he still doesn’t trust you.
“Sorry, am I crowding you?” He leaned back.
“No, I was worried that I stink since I didn’t get my shower this morning.”
“You’re fine,” he said.
Her heart jumped. Oh, boy, she’d better get a grip because this was not a relationship that had any future beyond keeping Mia safe. Only a few hours ago he’d accused her of not being the right caretaker for Mia because of Carly’s past. After her rant about her parents, she thought she’d felt a shift, that Whit might be giving her another chance to prove herself, even though he knew about the restraining order meant to keep her away from her little sister.
Greta. The trauma of never seeing her again and not knowing where she ended up haunted Carly still. Even when Aunt Vicky encouraged Carly as an adult to find Greta, Carly couldn’t bring herself to work past the shame of not protecting her sister from their manipulative parents.
“Did you find something?” Whit said, interrupting Carly’s thoughts.
She snapped her attention to his blue eyes studying her intently.
“Sorry, not yet.” She ripped her gaze from his and refocused on the tablet.
“What are all those emails from the Lancaster Society?” Whit asked.
“It’s a nonprofit that raises money for children who need medical treatment. She’s on the board. She volunteers for Bountiful Bravery as well, which is a church group that sponsors refugees.”
“My brother goes to church?”
“Sure, we all went every Sunday. Why, don’t you go to church?”
“No time for God,” he said, his eyes intent on the tablet.
“You don’t have to attend church on Sundays to make time for God. Watch.” She closed her eyes. “Lord, please protect us, love us and guide us through this turbulent time. Amen.” She opened her eyes. “See? It’s that easy.”
He pointed to the tablet. “What’s this one?”
Well, okay, Carly supposed God wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, although she couldn’t imagine life without the Lord.
Glancing back at the emails, she saw the one he was referring to with the subject line “Invest in Children: Serenity Resort.” She clicked it open. “It’s a reply to a donor request letter sent by Mrs. B. This person has committed to pledging twenty thousand dollars to the resort. Wow, that’s a lot of money.”
“Scroll down. I want to read the actual donor letter.”
They both read the email inviting the recipient to invest in a property in Madagascar that was guaranteed to triple their investment in two years, boost tourism and provide an added bonus: a percentage of the profits went to fighting poverty for children.
“She sent a lot of these emails three months ago,” Carly said. “Sounds like a worthy cause.”
“If it’s legit.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are no guarantees when it comes to investing, and the email doesn’t state specifically how they’re going to fight poverty. Then there’s my brother’s comment, the one where he accused Susan of ruining their lives.”
“What do you think that meant?”
“Maybe this fund-raiser was crossing some legal lines and that’s what Harry was referring to.”
“How could raising money to build a resort ruin their lives? Especially if it helps kids?”
“It raises questions in my mind. Madagascar is a third-world country, Carly. People don’t necessarily find it relaxing to confront poverty while on vacation.”
“True.”
“It’s a nice sales pitch. Anyone with extra money would jump at the chance to triple an investment. Plus, the whole helping-kids thing eases guilt that the investor has about making a profit in a poverty-stricken country. I’ll share this information with Harper.”
Someone knocked on the door. When Whit got up, she noticed him wince. The man needed a break so his body could heal.
He eyed the peephole and cracked the door open.
“A deputy is downstairs. He wants to take your statement,” Kurt said.
“I’ll be right there.” Whit shut the door and turned to Carly. “You’ll be okay
?”
“Of course.” Mia rubbed at her eyes with fisted hands. “Someone’s working herself up to a nap.”
“This shouldn’t take long.”
Carly pulled Mia into a hug and the baby kicked her feet.
“Carly?”
She glanced at Whit. He started to say something and hesitated.
“I’ll stay put this time,” she said, guessing what was on his mind. “Promise.”
* * *
By late afternoon the baby was growing more irritable.
“The fever’s gone, but I think the rash is driving her crazy,” Carly said. “We could use an oatmeal bath and lotion to calm that itch down or she’s not going to sleep tonight.”
Which meant none of them were sleeping, and Whit needed a few solid hours of rest to be sharp, to be able to protect Carly and Mia. He was already working at a disadvantage with the gunshot wound, and concussion, plus weakened muscles on his right arm from his previous injury. He didn’t need to be cognitively impaired because of lack of sleep.
“We could ask Trish if she has lotion,” Carly said.
“I’d rather keep the baby’s condition to ourselves. That way if the innkeepers are asked, they can answer truthfully. I’ll take you to the store.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll check with Deputy Logan to see if anyone reported the suspect’s vehicle in town. He’s probably long gone.” At least Whit hoped he was.
Whit called the deputy, who said someone reported seeing the vehicle ten miles out of town. Deputy Logan also offered to escort Whit and Carly to the store.
“That was nice of him,” Carly said.
“Yes, it was. Things are pretty quiet in a small town like Cold Creek Springs, so he’s able to offer support to a fellow cop. Anyway, we could pick you up some clothes while we’re out.”
“Uh, like where? Shopping malls are hours away.”
“Logan said there’s a general store not far from here. They should have everything we need. I might even suggest you color your hair, if you’re not opposed to the idea.”
“The last time I tried that it turned out lime green.”
“That wouldn’t be good.”
Carly almost smiled at the recollection. Good, at least he’d started to bridge the gap between them.