* * *
Jake moved ahead, but Rachael couldn’t quit taking in the amazing building. He continued to be patient with her and eventually he led her into a massive open area abutting the large doors where she assumed the trucks had once parked. She checked out the polished concrete floors, then swung her gaze over even more decorations. Voices echoed against the first floor’s high ceilings, carrying ductwork and pipes across the space.
Suddenly apprehensive about the decision to come here, she grabbed Jake’s arm.
“Wait,” she said. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“After the day I’ve had, socializing might be a challenge. Especially with people involved in this investigation.”
“Relax.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “We’re just regular people outside of work. Like a family. You’ll be fine.”
He pressed his hand at the small of her back and urged her into the room with big sofas, recliners and leather club chairs. The voices came from the adjoining kitchen where men, women and a young girl gathered around an island. Rachael quickly scanned the room for Detective Hunter and was pleased to see she wasn’t in attendance.
Jake went around to the far side of the island, putting his hand on shoulders and introducing the group. Team members Cash Dixon, Archer Reed and Darcie Stevens were present, along with Cash’s wife, Krista, and Archer’s fiancée, Emily. Isabel sat on a stool next to her biological grandmother, Pilar.
“I’ve already told Rachael about all of you,” Jake said.
They all groaned. A temptation to say something funny to break the ice hit Rachael, but she didn’t know these people, so she held her tongue.
Jake took over the conversation, describing the kidnapping and sharing the break-in.
Darcie dropped her cookie cutter and came around the island to squeeze Rachael’s arm. “You poor thing. Would you like to join us in cookie decorating, or would you rather just sit down and eat a bunch of them?”
Tall and slender with wavy hair pulled back into a ponytail, Darcie’s brown eyes filled with compassion. Despite her day, Rachael instantly felt better under Darcie’s attention.
Isabel jumped down from her stool and took Rachael’s hand. “You look like you need Christmas. You can have my stool.”
Rachael smiled at the child as she led Rachael to the stool. She sat, and Pilar pushed to her feet. A large puppy that looked nearly full grown came loping into the room and tried to stop near Isabel, but slid past her and hit the wall instead.
“That’s Woof,” Isabel said, her tone serious. “He’s my dog. He doesn’t stop so good.”
Pilar shook her head, but with a fond smile on her face, she turned to Rachael. “It was nice to meet you. I am praying for a resolution to your problems.” She patted Rachael’s shoulder before looking at her granddaughter. “Come, Isabel. We have some wrapping to do.”
Isabel giggled and winked at Darcie. “Do not come upstairs. And when Noah comes home from work, do not let him come up, either.”
Darcie smiled down on the child and took a few exaggerated steps like she might follow. Isabel raced away, giggles trailing behind.
Rachael instantly liked Darcie. Rachael suspected it was because Darcie was a former nurse turned medic, and the same warm, caring personality she used on the job shone through in her personal life.
Jake slid onto the stool vacated by Pilar. His body consumed the space, and when his knee touched Rachael’s, she scooted away to keep from thinking of how his touch affected her heart.
He grabbed a snowman-shaped cookie, chomped off a bite and moaned. “Perfect as usual, Darcie.”
She laughed. “You sound surprised that I’m good for more than poking people with needles.”
“How could he be surprised?” Archer nodded at the stove where a large pot sat on the front burner. “You’re the only one in the group who actually knows how to cook.”
“Hey,” Cash said. “I take offense at that. I can order a mean pizza.”
“Which we’ll be eating tomorrow night again,” his wife, Krista, added.
“You could take over my cooking duties, honey.” He smiled at her, and she beamed back at him.
The pure look of love in their eyes brought back Rachael’s memories of Eli. She didn’t think she could experience a love like that again, but she still liked to witness it in other people, and Cash and Krista obviously shared a forever kind of love.
Darcie slid a pan of plain star-shaped cookies across the island. “We decorate freestyle, so help yourself to anything on the island.”
Jake picked up a cookie and a decorating bag filled with blue icing. Rachael chose yellow frosting, and as she slathered it on the cookie, she kept peeking at Jake’s decoration. He covered his cookie in blue then quickly wrote FRS in the middle in yellow and set it aside.
“Really, Jake?” Darcie asked. “Your focus may be on work all the time, but it’s Christmas. Where’s your spirit?”
He looked up and frowned at Darcie. “Fine. Give me something other than a star, and I’ll do my best.”
She handed him a tree, but his frown didn’t leave his face until he piped the icing in dots to mimic ornaments. Then his tongue peeked out the side of his mouth, and he fixed his rapt attention on the tree. Every so often he’d sit back to eye it, then add a bit more. Finally he pressed silver balls into the dots and pushed back from the counter.
“There,” he said, a broad smile on his face. “I challenge anyone to do better.”
“A challenge? I can get all over a challenge,” Cash said. “Give me a tree, Darcie.”
She passed the plate to him and looked at Archer.
He held up his hands. “Hey. I don’t need to prove my cookie-decorating abilities.”
“Since when does anyone on the team shy away from a challenge?” Jake’s smile morphed into a visual taunt.
“Since it involves icing and precision,” Archer replied.
“Too bad Brady’s not here,” Krista said. “With his sharpshooting and whittling skills, he’d give you precision.”
Rachael had to admit she was having fun with the team, though she wished she could share their enthusiasm for Christmas. She’d even settle for a spark, a mere flicker of Christmas sprit. Sure, she could still appreciate the beauty of seasonal decorations like Skyler’s, as it reminded her of great Christmases with her parents, but since she lost the baby and Eli, the thought of a traditional Christmas celebration still left her feeling cold inside.
The sound of the front door opening caught Darcie’s attention. “Maybe that’s him now.”
They all swiveled to look, but when Detective Hunter and a tall, striking man wearing a black suit entered the room, Rachael’s thoughts turned back to the attempted kidnapping, and her good mood evaporated.
The detective approached the counter, her eyes narrowed, her expression grim. Jake’s smile melted away, and he stood, putting his hands on his hips.
Detective Hunter met Rachael’s gaze. “Our team has finished processing your center.”
“Does that mean I can go inside?”
“Yes. I’m officially releasing the place to you.”
Rachael turned to Jake. “Would you mind driving me over there after dinner so I can prepare for my licensing visit?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s safer to wait until morning.”
“You think the kidnapper might come back?” she asked, but the rigid set of Jake’s jaw held his answer.
Gone was the lighter, easygoing man who had just issued a cookie-decorating challenge, and back was the fierce defender.
She hated to see the change in him, but she had to admit she was thankful he’d decided to defend her from this crazy kidnapper who seemed like he’d keep coming back until he got w
hat he was after.
* * *
Jake drove Rachael home and parked near the patrol car in front of her house. He thought of the mess inside and didn’t want her to face it alone, so he turned to her. “If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll do a walk-through of the house while you wait here with the deputy.”
She didn’t take any time to think about it, but dug the keys from her purse and held them out.
He took the ring making sure not to touch her. He’d accidentally bumped her leg at the house and the shock of his intense response still lingered. “If you’ll also tell me where you keep your cleaning supplies, I can clean off that mirror so you don’t have to look at it again.”
“That would be so kind of you. You’ll find them under the kitchen sink.”
“I’ll be right back.” He opened the door.
“Jake,” she said.
He turned. “Yeah?”
“Be careful.”
The simple warning evaporated his desire to keep things professional between them. Sure, taking extra care was always an unspoken thought among the team, but it had been a long time since a woman outside the team had been concerned for his safety.
He knew he shouldn’t, but he squeezed her hand. Her eyes widened, and her lips formed a small O of surprise. He figured she was responding to the unexpected warmth traveling between them.
Once again, he hadn’t thought a simple touch would affect him this way. She, however seemed immune, as apprehension darkened her eyes. He had to admit her response stung, but he wouldn’t even contemplate discussing their differing reactions.
He climbed out of the truck and Deputy Hill met him at the bumper.
Thankful for the distraction to move his focus back to Rachael’s safety, Jake greeted the deputy. “Has everything been quiet here?”
“Nothing to report.” Hill widened his stance. “Are you any closer to getting this guy?”
Jake shook his head. “So keep your head on a swivel and check out everything, even the littlest thing, okay?”
“Roger that.”
“Ms. Long is going to sit in my truck while I do a walk-through of the house, so stay close to her.”
Hill nodded. Thankfully, he wasn’t treating this assignment as a chance to zone out, but was giving his all. Jake strode up to the porch, his gaze searching each shadow and fixing on every movement of the wind until he’d entered the house. Though it was likely overkill, he drew his weapon and flipped on the lights.
He traveled through the rooms, searching then double-checking. Rachael’s safety was too important to miss any clue of another intrusion. Once certain no one lurked inside, he checked the window locks, then searched the backyard and garage. Confident in her home’s security, he cleaned off the mirror then returned to his truck and escorted Rachael to the door.
She stood in the open doorway, looking up at him, her gaze questioning. Maybe she didn’t want to be alone after her difficult day. He didn’t blame her, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Are you sure you don’t want to call a friend to stay with you?”
“And put them in danger? No.”
He totally understood her reasoning. He’d do the same thing in her place. “I’m sorry I have to go. With the time I’ll need to devote to you and Pam in the morning, I have to get some work done tonight.”
“It’s okay. You’ve done so much already. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do more.”
“It’s just...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I want to stay...but others. They’re depending on me, too.”
“I understand.”
He nodded and bid her good-night, but he suspected she didn’t fully grasp his reason for leaving. It couldn’t be helped, though. Deputy Hill would keep her safe, and Jake had to be where people needed him the most. He’d committed his life to that, and so far it had served him and others well.
So why, he thought as he stepped toward his truck, was he questioning his purpose and direction after all these years?
SEVEN
Morning couldn’t have come any faster for Rachael, and she was glad to be in Jake’s truck headed for the center so she could get to work and keep her mind busy. She’d startled at the littlest sound and spent a sleepless night. When Jake arrived on her doorstep looking tired but still projecting his fierce protector vibe, it was all she could do not to throw her arms around his neck and hold on to him.
“You’re awful quiet this morning,” he said. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head, but something was very wrong. She kept responding to him in ways she’d never expected to feel again, and she had to face facts. They had a connection, and it wasn’t one-sided.
Going forward, every time they were together, she had to do a better job of keeping their focus on the investigation. That should solve the problem.
Starting right now.
“Pam called to say she dropped Kelly at Francie’s place and got to work just fine thanks to your deputy,” Rachael said. “Thank you for arranging it, and tell him thanks for me, too.”
“Will do.”
“Did you get all of your work done last night?” she asked.
“Does anyone ever finish all their work?”
“I do,” she said. “I mean, within reason. If I didn’t have any down time, I’d fall apart.”
“What do you like to do in your down time?”
“Do?” She considered his question. “I babysit a lot.”
He cast a surprised look at her. “And that’s not work?”
“I don’t charge for it, so I don’t consider it work.” She thought about the hours spent with the children and smiled. “I love it, actually. Children. There’s nothing better.”
“Sounds like you want to have your own someday.”
An innocent comment, but it brought back the day she’d lost Hannah and Rachael couldn’t respond. He kept glancing at her, but she avoided his gaze and sought a safe topic.
“The center is just ahead,” she managed to get out through a dry mouth.
She stared out the window to end the conversation, and hoped he’d think her sudden quietness had to do with the attempted kidnapping.
They drove down the familiar tree-lined street located in an older, established neighborhood. When she spotted the center—her second sanctuary that had been invaded by the man who tried to kill her—a wave of anxiety actually took over her thoughts of Hannah.
Jake drove closer, and Rachael’s mouth fell open. Several Portland TV station vans with call letters brightly painted on the sides and satellite dishes on their roofs were parked on the street. When Jake pulled into the parking lot, reporters she recognized from the news flooded from the vans, their microphones held at the ready.
She pivoted to look at Jake. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Don’t pay any attention to them.” Jake eased his truck past the group and parked by the door. “We’ll walk straight through and not say a word.” He shifted into Park. “Stay here until I come around for you.”
She nodded, but when a particularly aggressive reporter from a local news broadcast rushed up to Jake, it left her wondering if getting through the reporters would be as easy as Jake claimed.
He opened the door, stood strong and blocked the reporter’s access to her. The moment her feet hit the pavement, he urged her to move quickly ahead of him to the entrance.
“Ms. Long!” the reporter shouted. “Is it true that your license has been suspended for gross negligence?”
The question stopped her. She had been negligent, yes, but he made it sound so ugly. She turned to correct the misconception.
“Let it go,” Jake whispered, and took the keys from her hand to unlock the door.
It seemed like an eternity as she waited for the lock to cl
ick. When Jake pulled the door open, she rushed inside. The reporter continued tossing out questions until the door closed solidly behind Jake.
She went straight to her office. Catching sight of black forensic powder covering most surfaces, she almost burst into tears.
How could this be happening to her? She was a good person. One who only wanted to help struggling families get a leg up in the world—and now all of this?
Why, Father? Why?
“Sorry about the mess.” Jake leaned against the doorjamb.
Rachael dropped onto her desk chair. “The mess is bad, but reporters? I didn’t expect them.” She shook her head. “I see people on the news all the time and wonder how they ended up there. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d be one of them.”
“I should have thought to warn you. We respond to so many critical incidents that we take it for granted that the press will show up, so I didn’t even think about it.” He pushed off the door frame. “Why don’t we concentrate on getting this space cleaned up so when your licensing rep arrives, she’ll get a good first impression?”
“Sounds like a plan.” She slipped out of her jacket, then snapped on the lamp on the corner of her desk, illuminating the kid-sized building blocks of the lamp’s base. “I’ll just grab cleaning products and be right back.”
She brushed past Jake, very aware of his presence in her personal space. Her sanctuary had been invaded by not only the kidnapper but also another kind of man. One who seemed to be decent, caring and compassionate. One who put others above himself. Like yesterday, working until the wee hours of the morning.
She pulled open the supply closet door, thoughts of Jake still lingering. He actually reminded her of her father in many ways. He never asked for anything for himself, but was always ready and willing to help others. That’s where the similarity ended, though. Her father had been a gentle soul. Slow to act. Indecisive. But Jake? He could change thoughts on a dime, moving into action and taking charge. Unfortunately, she liked that about him, too.
She groaned over her wayward mind, jerked the supplies from the closet and marched back to her office. She had ninety minutes to clean the place up, and she’d do her very best to make the office spotless.
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