Her Undercover Refuge

by Linda O. Johnston

  Soon, they were outside again, walking with their backs toward where all the training was going on, but their goal was the offices near the entry to the shelter.

  In a couple of minutes, they entered one of the front buildings and walked upstairs to the offices. “Want to look at the security cameras with me?” Scott asked.

  “Do you think there’s a problem?” she countered, looking ill at ease.

  “Not really, but I want to be sure the street looks normal, not much traffic or many pedestrians outside, after all that noise in here.”

  “Good idea.” And so, Nella accompanied him into his office, where they’d be able to look at the screens showing what was picked up on the security cameras.

  Scott had them set up so there were multiple camera recordings in rows on the same screen to start with, although he could always zero in on one or another if anything looked interesting. He could also access them on his phone.

  At the moment, all appeared normal. Cars drove by on the street, and no pedestrians were visible in the area, not even walking dogs across the street in the park. He also glanced at the pictures within the shelter, but the only thing interesting there was also where the training was going on.

  “When and where does the therapist arrive?” Nella asked Scott.

  “Not till this afternoon, and she’ll see people in rooms off the hallway in the entrance building. No reason for her to come inside. She has been well vetted, of course, but this is easiest.”

  “Sounds good,” Nella said. “I’m going into my office for a few minutes now. Mostly because I’ve been eager to study that file you talked about that describes all the duties of a manager here. I’ve glanced at it now and then when I’ve had a brief chance to stop in my office and like what I’ve read so far, but I’d like to spend more time with it.”

  “Fine. I’ll spend a little more time in here, although I’m not so concerned about our outside environment now.”

  He watched Nella’s back as she walked out of his office. He liked the way she walked—as if determined to reach wherever she was heading, and yet she had a feminine sway to her body.

  He needed to cut that out. She was doing well as a shelter manager. Very well. She got along with those they were protecting—staff members and animals. She got along well with the other managers.

  And she got along well with him.

  But that was because, despite their shared kisses, she was very professional.

  Well, so was he, most of the time. He got down to business, which for the moment involved checking his email.

  But a muted scream suddenly startled him. Nella?

  He leaped up and exited his office quickly. “Nella?” he called as he headed a few doors away toward the office he had designated as hers.

  “I’m out here!” Her shaky voice sounded as if it came from the reception area, and Scott pivoted to head that way.

  In moments, he saw her. She stood behind the reception desk, the shelter cell phone receiver in her hand. She was staring at it. She looked terrified—no surprise after that scream.

  But what did she see?

  He took the phone from her and nearly hurled the receiver against the wall.

  Last time the message had been ambiguous about who was being threatened.

  Not this time.

  The message today said:

  You were warned. You should have gotten rid of the latest person to move into your hell pit of a shelter so she could be killed elsewhere. But you didn’t. And we know where you are. That bitch Nella Bresdall will be killed there. Soon.

  Chapter 15

  Nella stared at the message, wanting to delete it.

  Better yet, wishing it wasn’t there.

  “Damn!” Scott exclaimed, reaching for the receiver. “Same phone number as last time?”

  “I—I don’t know,” Nella responded, hating how halting and raspy and—well, not at all like a professional officer of the law—her voice sounded.

  But then, most professional cops weren’t confronted with threats like this, with no clear source. No one to go after and bring in for questioning—and for whatever punishment was available for an attempt at intimidation, a death threat, a verbal assault like this, or whatever a prosecutor would choose as the official charge against the perpetrator.

  Whoever that might be. And assuming he—or she—could be found and taken into custody.

  “Any idea who might have done this?” Scott still held the phone, pushing buttons and staring at it, moving the screen view around as if it would reveal who sent it.

  She hoped Scott didn’t do anything to accidentally erase that horrible message or otherwise cause it to disappear in a way that it couldn’t be investigated adequately—never mind that she’d had an initial urge to get rid of it. She knew that, as a law enforcement professional, Scott definitely wouldn’t do anything to intentionally delete it.

  Who was she trying to kid? They hadn’t figured out who was behind the last, less distinct threat. They probably wouldn’t be able to determine who had sent this one, either.

  But they had to try. She had to try. And succeed.

  And protect herself.

  She sat down on the chair, hunching her shoulders. Damn. She straightened them. Made them solid and tight.

  And cop-like.

  “I don’t know who sent it.” Nella liked how her voice now sounded at least a little more professional. “One of those gang members still on the run would be my guess, though. I’m glad, at least, that the threat’s not against one of our staff members—although we can’t completely discount that possibility even though I’m specifically mentioned this time.”

  “Of course. But we need to make sure everyone here is adequately protected.”

  “Including you.” She turned to look at Scott. He stared back at her.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not being threatened, but I’m here, and whoever wants you or anyone else at this shelter is going to have to go through me. Which means I’d better be adequately protected, too.”

  Nella smiled grimly. “You got it. And...” She couldn’t help hesitating, but she knew what she had to say.

  “And what?” Scott prompted.

  She didn’t look at him as she said, “I’m leaving. Whoever it is said they’re after me. By hanging around, I’m endangering all our staff members who need protection. At least I can protect them a bit by getting away from them.”

  Scott grabbed her arms and pulled her back to her feet. He glared into her face. “You’re not going anywhere. I don’t intend to make you a staff member and alarm the others, but we’ll protect you, too. Got it?”

  “But—”

  “You are staying here.” He spat each word out without looking away from her. “Got it?” he said again.

  “Got it.” She wished she didn’t sound so meek, and she looked away from him, but only for a few seconds. She refused to even consider the fact that this could trigger her possible PTSD symptoms, too. She squared her shoulders, stared more fiercely back at Scott and forced herself to act the way she wanted to. “Okay, then—what are we going to do to find this creep? As I said, my first reaction is to assume it’s one of the gang members my task force failed to bring in. They knew I was designated in charge of that raid. And like I told you, Dan said a few are still out there, so that’s a logical guess.”

  “Could be.” He smiled a bit, as if happy with her new attitude. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do.”

  Nella wanted to continue watching Scott’s face as he spoke—but as she did she noticed the window on the side of the room beyond him. Could someone be out there with a weapon, ready to shoot inside?

  Or somewhere outside the fence, hiding behind a car parked along the nearby street?

  Or—

  She realized Scott had kept talking. She’d let him know her add
itional concerns in a minute—but remained determined not to sound too scared and wimpy. She needed to plan how to better protect the facility. And not just herself.

  “I’ll call one of my Chance PD contacts now, then Telma and Camp and have them come in here so we can tell them what’s going on,” Scott was saying. His eyes appeared glued to hers, as if he wanted to see what was happening inside her head.

  Nella didn’t particularly like that, but the only way she moved was to plant herself between the window and Scott.

  “What are you doing?” he asked—then looked past Nella. And shook his head as he grimaced. “If you’re trying to protect me, don’t bother. First of all, when I redid this place I made sure all the glass was bulletproof, even assuming someone could see inside a room this high with no other buildings around for them to look in through windows or off roofs or whatever.” He drew closer and grabbed her shoulders with his strong hands—and moved her so he was between the window and her. “But here we go. I’m protecting you, not vice versa.”

  Nella gave a short bark of a laugh. “Got it,” she said, not that she would let that be the end of it.

  “So anyway, after I—we—inform the other managers what’s going on and make sure they’re on highest alert, you and I are going to the Chance PD station no matter what my contact says.” He paused and looked over Nella’s head as if pondering something, then back at her. “I could just leave you here behind the protective walls and fences, but I not only want to talk more to people there but also get you away from here, temporarily, at least.”

  “Okay,” Nella said, “but—”

  “I know,” Scott continued. “That might not be the best idea if we’re being watched, since whoever made the threat could consider it an indication we, or you, don’t believe him, and that could cause him to act. But I’d rather he know where we’re going, see us at the police station, recognize that we have resources there. And in case you’re wondering, even though I don’t have an armored car, mine does have some safety features that’ll help if we’re attacked. Which I don’t think we will be, at least not today.”

  She thought about asking him why not, but didn’t. Scott seemed to be thinking aloud, weighing possibilities, going with the ones he considered most applicable.

  Not that he could really know. But she recognized that he would do anything to protect her, as he would anyone here.

  She didn’t want to die, of course. But she also wanted to protect the shelter and its residents.

  And she trusted Scott.

  Before she could respond, though, her phone rang. She checked it. It was Dan. Oh, yeah. He and Jon wanted to come by tomorrow. Bad idea now? Or a good one?

  She answered quickly, but before he could talk she told Dan she’d call him right back. Then she reminded Scott of the request.

  “I’d like to say yes,” she told him. “Not give the threatening creep any control over me. And besides, it won’t hurt to have more cops around.”

  Scott seemed to ponder it, but only for a few seconds. “Yeah. Sure. Go ahead.”

  Nella called Dan. That had, in fact, been the reason for his call.

  “See you tomorrow,” Nella told him. “Be sure to let me know what time.” Then she hung up again and turned to Scott. “All right,” she said. “When do we head to the Chance PD?”

  * * *

  After speaking with Vince at the Chance PD, Scott called Telma and told her to come to his office—and bring Camp with her.

  Both seemed outraged when they saw the threatening text. “We’ll take care of you,” Camp said immediately. He had taken a seat in the boss’s office, but now he stood, folded his arms, and walked to Nella’s chair. His expression was grim.

  Telma didn’t stand, but she seconded Camp’s statement. “You’re one of us now,” she said, also crossing her arms. Her dark brows were often set in a frown over her hazel eyes, but her expression now was more of a furious glower, as if she were glaring directly at the person who’d threatened Nella.

  “Thanks, both of you,” Scott said. “But at the moment the primary duty for both of you is to make sure no one here at the shelter is endangered. In case you didn’t know, Dr. Moran is coming this afternoon to do therapy work with some of our residents, so you’ll have to ensure the comings and goings work safely, too. At least she only sees them in one of the rooms in our secure entry building. I’m taking Nella with me to the PD.”

  Now, Telma stood as Camp had. “But—”

  “Until we know more about who it is, where they are, whatever else we can find out, we need to rely on our fellow officers as well as being cautious around here. Maybe it’ll seem as if we’re ignoring the threat, taunting the menace or whatever, but we need to show we’re not intimidated. That Nella isn’t intimidated. Although we will be careful...”

  “I agree with Scott,” Nella told the others. “I’m...well, a bit intimidated, of course. But I don’t want it to show. And the more information we can get about whoever it is, the less likely that person is to harm anyone at the shelter.”

  “Except you,” Camp said.

  “Not on my watch,” Scott shot back. “Now we’re going to get ready to go. You two are in charge here. Okay?”

  “Yeah,” Camp said resignedly.

  “Okay,” agreed Telma.

  “Now, don’t tell our staff members anything specific, but remind them to be careful, even around here. Got it?”

  Camp and Telma agreed with that, too.

  “Oh, one more thing.” Scott explained the pending visit tomorrow from Nella’s previous cop cohorts. “It won’t hurt to have more authorities present, even for a short while,” he finished. Scott rose then, and so did Nella. “You okay with visiting the Chance PD with me?” he asked her in front of the others. If she said no, he might just listen to them and leave her here.

  “I’m ready to go. Doesn’t matter if I’m a bit scared. We need to nail this down. Let’s go.” And she strode toward the office door, which he hadn’t locked.

  This was one of the times he wished he had built some kind of protective garage at the shelter, but he hadn’t. Now he led Nella down the steps and around toward the rear of the entry building, then out the back door—which he did have to unlock. He went first, leading her to the parking lot behind the shelter, where his special SUV was parked. Before Nella came through the door, he walked around, observing the area—potentially making himself a target if anyone was there stalking her. But he stared at the open parklike area directly across the street and saw no activity, and little activity at the few commercial buildings beyond it—a hardware store and a sports gear store.

  Most important, he didn’t see people at all, let alone anyone looking in this direction, so he returned to the door and got Nella out, immediately ensconcing her in the passenger seat of his car.

  He had bought a very special vehicle when he got involved in creating this shelter—in case he had to transport some of the residents in protective custody someplace else, when they were in danger.

  Soon, Nella and he were both locked inside, and he drove them quickly to the Chance PD’s headquarters. Instead of parking on the street as he usually did these days, since he was no longer an obvious member of the department, he parked in the back lot among the vehicles owned by police officers and the brass in charge. There was a space not far from the door, and he took that—once more preceding Nella outside the car, though he saw several cops milling around in the lot and no civilians around to worry him.

  While driving, he’d used his car’s phone system to notify Vince Vanderhoff they were on their way—and why. He gave Vince the phone number used to send this threat so he could get a department techie working on attempting to learn the source, but doubted anything more useful than the search the last time would come of it.

  His phone rang as he reached for the handle of the driver’s door, and he answered it w
ith the car’s system.

  “You here yet?” That was Vince.

  “Just arrived. Parked in back. We’re about to come in.”

  “Fine. Look at the door.” Which Scott did. The back door to the station opened and four officers emerged, each striding out as if on duty—which they clearly were. Each had a hand on the butt of his or her holstered service weapons.

  “I think Vince is ready for us,” Scott told Nella, and, with the cops hanging around them, they got out of the car.

  Soon, Scott and Nella sat in Vince’s office. The visit was helpful, Scott believed, although so far there was no indication of who’d sent the threat. It had come from a burner phone, surprise, surprise.

  Vince, wearing a suit as usual, was cordial to Nella and, in his raspy voice, asked about her time on the LAPD, including the gang task force. Scott hadn’t told him much about Nella’s background despite Vince’s involvement in checking out potential new staff members before they were accepted at the shelter, so Vince had clearly done his homework. Scott did mention that Nella was anticipating a visit from a couple of her previous coworkers but gave no particulars.

  While they were there, Vince had K-9 Officer Maisie Murran join them with her dog, Griffin. She hadn’t yet started patrolling the shelter area with Griffin but promised to do so tomorrow to potentially notify whoever was issuing the threats that the place was under police protection. She and her brother Doug, with his dog, Hooper, would go around the entire neighborhood during the next few days so it didn’t seem that the shelter was their reason for being there—to better preserve its covert purpose.

  Plus, she said she looked forward to stopping by more often to talk to some of the staff members and also see the shelter pets. And also have Griffin sniff things out as an extra precaution.

  “Oh, and yes,” she told them, “that retired K-9 I told you about hasn’t found the perfect forever home yet, so I think I’ll be able to get him to become one of your shelter animals soon—but you’ll have to promise to treat him like family.”