Hidden Target (Otter Creek Book 2)

by Rebecca Deel

  “I also brought a friend to meet you.” Madison grinned, wondering what kind of reaction her next statement would bring. “Julia, this is Nick Santana.”

  “The guitar man?” Julia’s rose to a squeak.

  She laughed at Julia’s delight and Nick’s stunned expression. “That’s right.”

  “I have all your CDs,” Julia said to Nick.

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “Miss Madison gives me all the new ones. I want to play the guitar, too.”

  Nick’s eyes flashed. “When you’re a little older, we’ll talk again. If you still want to play, I’ll work with you.”

  Julia’s eyes gleamed. “Did you hear that, Mommy? Mr. Santana’s going to teach me to play the guitar.”

  “I sure did, baby.” Karen’s voice cracked with emotion. She turned away from Julia and wiped her eyes.

  Satisfied that Julia’s eager hands were making short work of the bow, Madison gave Karen her basket. “This should take care of the sweater you wanted to make. It will help you pass the time.”

  Karen hugged her. “Thanks, the color’s gorgeous. I hope I get a chance to wear it this winter.”

  “You think the sweater will take too long to knit?” The pattern didn’t look complicated to her, but she’d been knitting since she turned nine.

  Blushing, Karen shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ll be too big to wear it by the time I finish the sweater. I’m pregnant.”

  Madison hoped her smile didn’t look as stiff as it felt. “Congratulations.” She tried to infuse her voice with enthusiasm, but it sounded strained to her ears. “When’s the baby due?”

  “February 14th.”

  Julia looked up from her book and yarn, her dark eyes inquisitive. “Mommy said you had a baby. Where’s your baby, Miss Madison?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The sharp pain in her gut stole her breath. She tried to respond, but her vocal cords felt paralyzed. She couldn’t force any sound from her tight throat. The small room hummed with tension, as if she stood too close to a high voltage wire.

  “Julia, no.” Karen’s face flushed crimson. She turned to Madison with an apologetic expression. “I’m so sorry.”

  The little girl’s lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Did I say something bad?”

  Julia’s innocent question deserved an answer. She had enough to face without worrying that she’d done something wrong. Madison walked to the bed, sat beside the girl, and cuddled her close like her mother used to do her when she was little. “You’re right, little elf. I did have a baby once.” She stole a glance at Nick, and found his eyes on her, dark with deep emotion. Whatever that look meant, she drew strength and support from him.

  “Where is she? How come I never see her?”

  She stroked the long dark hair, soft as satin, and prayed for wisdom. “My husband and I were in a car accident two years ago. My husband and my son both went to be with Jesus, Julia.”

  The little girl thought about that for a minute. She tilted her head back, her expression serious. “Did your husband like to rock babies?”

  Stunned, her hand stilled in the long hair. Her thoughts flew back to the many times after Sunday services when she found him in the nursery, rocking babies. “Yes, he did. Why?”

  “Maybe God let him go to Heaven with your baby so he could rock him.”

  Madison heard Karen gasp, but she focused on the child resting in her embrace. She waited until the surge of emotion ebbed before she responded. She tweaked the little girl’s nose, which elicited a giggle. “You might be right.” She kissed the top of the Julia’s head. “Can I bring you something special on my next visit?”

  “How about a hat, Julia?” Karen said.

  Madison turned her attention back to the little girl in her arms. “Would you like a hat?”

  She nodded. “The special medicine will make my hair come out, but Daddy promised it would grow back.”

  The chemo treatments. Madison angled her head, studying the child. “May I knit any hat design I like?” She visualized elf hats, Santa hats and those cute little hats that had a “pig tail” on each side. When Julia nodded, she got up from the bed and clasped Karen’s hand. “Call me if I can do anything for you.” To Julia, she said, “I’ll see you in a few days, munchkin.”

  She walked out the door into the busy hallway, not waiting for Nick. She had to get out of this hospital. The walls seemed to close in with each step. The whole hospital atmosphere reminded her of shots, an endless stream of cheerful nurses and physical therapists who had trained with drill sergeants.

  As she rounded the corner, a warm hand cupped her elbow and guided her through the lobby into the parking lot. He said nothing until they reached his car and he’d returned his guitar to the backseat.

  “You’re an amazing woman, Madison.”

  Madison shook her head. A hot breeze blew strands of hair across her damp eyes. “Making Julia a few hats isn’t enough. I wish I could do something more to help.”

  “I know a way we can both help her.” Nick turned the car’s ignition and cranked up the air conditioner. “We can talk about it over dinner. Where would you like to go?”

  “Burger Heaven,” she said without hesitation.

  “And when your mother asks if you ate something healthy?”

  She frowned. Visions of icy chocolate milkshakes melted in her head. “Milk is healthy.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’re drinking milk?”

  “Something like that.”

  Madison’s eyes widened, a french fry halfway to her mouth. “You want us to do what?”

  “Walk the half-marathon at the Music City Marathon in April.” Amused, Nick watched Madison’s hand drift back to the table, still clutching the half-eaten fry. “We can be part of Team in Training and help raise money to fund leukemia research.”

  She looked skeptical. “We’re talking about walking 13 miles, Nick! I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “Why not? We’ll train on paved paths easy for both of us and get you a pair of good jogging shoes with great cushioning and shock absorption.” He chewed the last bite of his burger and swallowed. “Didn’t the doctor say walking would be a good, low impact exercise for you?”

  “But I never walked that far before the accident. What if I can’t make it now?”

  “Every mile you walk will help both you and Julia. How can you lose? We have six months to train; I believe you can do this.”

  Madison still looked unconvinced. “But you’re a jogger. Won’t you find walking boring?”

  He grinned. “With you for company, not a chance. Besides, I can’t run for a few more weeks. This will help me get back in shape, too. Once people find out what we’re doing, we won’t be the only ones training for the marathon.” He waited for her to voice the question he suspected lurked in the corner of her mind.

  “You won’t always be here.” He almost couldn’t hear her voice over the chattering diners, but her piercing gaze never left his. “How can we train together when you leave? I have no discipline when it comes to exercise. I’d rather face a cookbook and a fully stocked kitchen than tie on a pair of sneakers and go for a walk.”

  Nick chuckled. Pretty extreme sentiments from a woman whose cooking disasters could fuel Saturday Night Live skits. “I’m here at least until Bates is gone and the harassment stops. After that, we’ll take it one day at a time.” He hoped to be in Otter Creek for a long time, but his plans depended on Madison.

  “I do want to help Julia.” She twisted her cup in circles, making interlocking rings of condensation on the red Formica table. “Okay, I’m in.”

  Nick scanned the room while he crumpled his empty burger wrapper and noticed Ethan striding up the sidewalk. The police chief entered Burger Heaven and approached their table.

  “Have you eaten dinner yet?” Madison moved her tray aside.

  Ethan sat beside her, shaking his head. “Serena’s holding back a plate for me.”
/>   “She’s cooking for you again tonight?” Nick drank the last of his Coke. “You’re one lucky man.”

  “She’s cooking for me and about 400 other people. Cornerstone Church provides dinner before services on Wednesday nights, courtesy of Home Runs, Inc.” Ethan leaned toward Nick and lowered his voice. “We finished interrogating Bates.”

  “And?”

  “Still claims the rifle isn’t his and doesn’t know how it landed in his trunk. No record of him applying for a gun license.” Ethan shrugged. “He might’ve bought it on the street, but right now I can’t tie him to that weapon other than it being in his car trunk.”

  No surprise there. “Prints?”

  “Wiped clean.” Ethan sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Someone could’ve planted it in Bates’ trunk for us to find.”

  If someone used that rifle to shoot him, the ballistics report would confirm it. Marine M40A3s weren’t common street weapons. He found it hard to believe Bates used that weapon to shoot him, then wiped it clean and left it in the trunk for a few weeks only to leave the keys in the ignition for anyone to discover. He was too smart for that. And the man had no priors with any weapon, let alone a sniper rifle.

  “Why would someone do that?” Madison’s voice quivered.

  “Distraction or set-up,” Ethan said.

  If Ethan was right about the rifle, the person who planted it used Bates for a lure. Something glimmered in the corner of his mind. He couldn’t see the connection yet, but he knew one existed. This whole situation read wrong. He’d missed an important piece of the puzzle.

  He set aside Bates and the rifle and focused on a more immediate interest. “Is there a paved jogging trail open to the public around here?” Nick gathered their trash on the empty tray. He needed to leave for the church soon so he could tune his guitar.

  “The Churchill Trail over on West Gate Road. You run?”

  He nodded. “Can’t for a few weeks yet, but Madison’s agreed to walk with me. We’re going to walk in the Music City Marathon in April.”

  Ethan shot an amused glance at Madison. “How did you con her into that? She hates bugs, hot weather and sweat.”

  “I don’t mind sweat,” Madison said, “as long as it belongs to someone else. And I’m not walking the whole marathon.” She glared at Nick. “I only agreed to the half-marathon.”

  “You know about Julia Kendall?” Nick asked.

  Ethan’s smile faded. “The whole station’s upset over it. Julia’s father is one of my patrol officers.”

  “Madison’s agreed to join Team in Training and help raise money for leukemia research.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Ethan leaned his forearms on the table, his expression thoughtful. “We’re donating vacation time and sick leave so Kendall can be with Julia on the days she’s taking chemo. The marathon’s something tangible we can do to help. You planning to walk or run?”

  “Walk for a few weeks.” Nick grinned. “When I get clearance to pick up the pace, I’ll have to find Madison a new training partner. Have any suggestions?”

  Ethan’s eyes twinkled. “I know a couple of good drill sergeants in dresses. Let me talk to the ladies before I commit them.” He rose. “When you’re ready to run, let me know. We’ll pound the pavement together.”

  Pastor Lang closed his Bible. “We’re concluding our study of Hebrews a few minutes early tonight. Those of you in town at lunch today might have heard Nick Santana play his guitar at the yarn shop.” He grinned at the excited whispers racing through his congregation. “Mr. Santana agreed to play a few songs for us tonight.”

  Nick climbed the stairs and shook his hand. Over the applause, the pastor asked, “How about sharing a few words as well?”

  Nick hesitated to dig into emotions already stripped bare from the time spent with Madison and Julia today. His faith walk began after he lost his family and met Luke Ryder. A quiet nudge in his soul made the decision for him. He gave the pastor a slight nod.

  Nick settled on the stool with his guitar and adjusted the microphone. He drew in a deep breath and began to play. As the last notes of “Great is Thy Faithfulness” faded, Nick lifted his head and set his guitar aside. He took the microphone from the stand and moved down the stairs to floor level.

  “Years ago, my parents packed a 1990 Buick Skyhawk with all my belongings and sent me off to University of Florida with hugs, a new Bible, money and a credit card for emergencies. As I drove away, my brother Rafe’s promise to take over my room rang in my ears.”

  He waited for the laughter to pass. “I knew life would never be the same. I just didn’t realize how soon it would change forever.” Nick sensed the uneasiness rippling through the crowded auditorium and prayed for strength to finish. “I poured my time into practicing the guitar while the Bible stayed in my suitcase. I planned to take the classical guitar world by storm. The longer I was gone from home, the more my priorities changed. It didn’t take me long to find out church was my family’s priority, not mine.”

  He paused, his gaze searching out Madison. Her wide eyes and intense stare told him he had her full attention. “On February 1, 1991, a phone call from the Bristol police woke me.” His voice deepened with emotion. “My parents and my brother were killed in a home invasion gone bad.”

  Nick struggled to block out the gasps and tears from several people in the audience. The helpless rage he’d felt that night simmered below the surface. “The police arrested three teenage boys and a jury convicted them of killing my family. Three kids looking to score money for their next drug buy.”

  “The day I came back from my family’s funeral, I changed my major to law enforcement. After I graduated, I was accepted into the Knoxville Police Academy. My field training officer was Luke Ryder. He later became my partner.

  “Luke and his wife, Madison, nudged me back into church. Luke helped me realize that anger and bitterness were consuming my life. Their church taught me that in the face of devastating loss, God is still faithful.”

  Nick handed the mike over to the pastor and sat on the front pew with his head in his hands. Even after all these years, the pain of losing his family still ran deep. He missed his father’s great booming laugh and the way his mother laughed at his father’s lame jokes. What hurt him most was losing the chance to see what Rafe would have become when he grew up. Nick’s heart ached with the loss of nieces and nephews he would never have.

  As soon as Lang ended the closing prayer, Nick found himself surrounded by a bevy of gray-haired grandmothers dabbing their eyes with soggy tissues. By the time the crowd thinned, he suspected he had more than 20 different kinds of lipstick on his cheeks. He smiled at Madison. “I may have to go back to an unlisted phone number.”

  She laughed. “Hard to work as a private investigator like that.”

  “Ready to go to the Wilsons?”

  “Can we stop by the shop? I forgot Anna’s bag.” She looked apologetic. “It’s on the way to their house.”

  He secured his guitar in the case and escorted her out of the auditorium. Each person they passed stopped them with a handshake, hug or a word of greeting.

  He settled into the driver’s seat with a sigh of relief as his back spasms eased. “Where do the Wilsons live?”

  While she supplied directions, Madison riffled through his CDs. She chose one of his older classical recordings. His lips curved. This time she didn’t ask his listening preference. Good to know she felt comfortable enough in his company to take the initiative and choose.

  Nick parked in front of The Bare Ewe and held out his hand for her keys. “Where’s the bag? I’ll get it.”

  She dug the shop key from her purse. “I left it behind the counter but Mom could have moved it.”

  He unlocked the door and slipped into the quiet store. A dim light over the coffee bar illuminated the shop. He walked to Madison’s darkened office and flipped on the light. Nothing looked different. He double-checked the back door lock. Satisfied her shop
remained secure, Nick returned to the front counter and located Anna’s bag.

  Back in the car, he handed Madison her keys and Anna’s bag. “Everything’s secure.”

  “Great.” She grinned. “Now, let’s go see what embarrassing secrets I can learn about you from the Wilsons.”

  “By the time Elena returned to the bedroom, she found a happy Rafe batting at a cloud of baby powder. The baby looked like a ghost with dark eyes.” Laughing, Anna Wilson pushed aside her empty glass. “For only being three years old, Elena said Nick did a decent job of changing his brother’s diaper, but it took a couple of vacuuming sessions to remove all the baby powder from the carpet and bedspread.”

  Madison grinned at her red-faced companion. She imagined Nick was a cute baby with dark complexion, dark hair and eyes like coal. “Did your mom take a picture? I’d love to see it.”

  He winced. “I’m sure it’s in a box at my apartment. Mom took pictures of everything—our first taste of baby food, new clothes, new toys, new schools, birthdays. Whatever you can name, she captured it on film. She was a serious shutterbug.”

  Though pleased he could share happy memories of his family on the heels of his gut-wrenching testimony, Madison’s heart ached. No wonder he never talked about the loss of his family.

  “More tea, my love?” Harry Wilson reached for his wife’s glass.

  She smiled. “Not for me, sweetheart, but our guests might like more.”

  A cell phone ring tone broke the silence. She glanced at Nick, who sat in his chair grinning at her. “It’s not mine.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. The ring tone sounded again from underneath her chair. Face hot, she dug through her bag to find her new cell phone. “It’s Meg.” Puzzled, she answered on the next ring.

  “Maddie, where are you?”

  She crushed her purse strap in a death grip. Meg’s sharp tone punctuated her clipped words. “With the Wilsons. What’s wrong?”

  “Get back to town. The Bare Ewe’s on fire!”