The officer turned to Ellie. “Miss. I’m Officer Hickman. Had a bit of excitement, haven’t you?” Officer Hickman was probably close to retirement age and had a pleasantly lined face and a comfortable paunch around his middle.
Ellie nodded. “Yes.”
“Can you hear me all right? Flashbangs can cause temporary deafness.”
“My ears are ringing, but I can hear you.”
“Good, good. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“Our EMT is on another call, but someone with the fire crew will get you checked out. We can call an ambulance if you think you need a ride to the hospital.”
“No ambulance.”
Hickman nodded. “We’ll get down to business, then.” He licked a thumb to flip pages in a small notebook. “Let me get your name and whatnot.”
While Ellie gave him the name Rachel Sinclair and other requested information, Sam released his hold on her and stepped away. The chilly breeze had her wrapping his coat more securely around her.
Officer Hickman finished writing her details. “Okay then, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“I was in the kitchen making dinner. Oh,” she turned to find Sam on his phone. “I left soup cooking on the stove.”
Hickman nodded toward the firefighters filing into the house. “They’ll take care of that. Don’t worry.”
“All right.” Ellie took a deep breath, then recounted how the dogs had alerted her, and when she’d let them outside, she’d seen someone by the rock wall. Skipping over how she’d run upstairs for her gun, she described the shattering glass, followed by the flash of light and loud noise.
Hickman nodded. “That’s a flashbang. Good thing your instinct was to cover your ears as much as you did. Can you describe the person you saw?”
“My impression is male, medium height, average weight. He was wearing dark clothing, I think with a beanie low over his forehead and the hood on his sweatshirt pulled over that. I don’t think that helps much.”
“Everything helps,” he assured her.
A firefighter came out of the house and approached them.
“What’s the verdict, Lieutenant?” Hickman asked.
“There was no fire or scorching.” The lieutenant looked at Ellie and Sam, who had returned to her side. “You folks are fortunate about that. Blew out some windows, and you’ve got a few broken knickknacks, but the damage is contained to that room.”
“I left soup cooking on the stove. Did you turn it off?” Ellie asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned to Sam. “You have any plywood? We can board up the windows so you can secure your house until you get the glass replaced.”
Sam dug keys out of his pocket, singling out one before handing it to the firefighter. “I appreciate it. The key is to the garage door, and there’s plywood against the west wall. I want to stay with Rachel.”
Ellie recognized a tall figure walking up from the street. Linc wore his marshal’s star on his belt and no doubt his weapon in a shoulder holster under his leather jacket.
He nodded at Sam. “Judge Creed.”
Sam introduced Linc as the US Marshal assigned to his court. Ellie found it more than a little weird to “meet” her brother as if they were strangers.
“Judge Creed called me to report the incident here at his house. I’ll need to examine the scene.”
Ellie waited for Hickman to put up the customary jurisdictional squabble, but the guy proved affable and waved Linc toward the house.
Once Hickman was done with his questions, he tucked his notebook into his pocket. “Guess you’ll want to take a look at the damage. I’d like to have a look-see at your camera footage.” He nodded to a camera under the eaves. “The deputy marshal will likely have the same request.”
Hickman walked with them into the house now blazing with light. Linc came from the damaged room and met them inside the foyer, holding up two plastic bags so they could see the contents. “This one’s your basic garden-variety rock.” He held up the other bag. “This, however, is a military-grade flashbang device, which can cause a lot of property damage as well as physical harm that includes permanent hearing loss. Miss Sinclair will want to be checked out medically. The rock was thrown first to break the window, and then the flashbang was lobbed in.”
Hickman was called outside, and the second they were alone, Linc’s gaze drilled into Ellie’s. “You good, El?”
“Yeah.”
Sam bent at the waist and glared. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Anger snapped through his words and he tugged her closer to a lamp.
“Sam, stop. I’m fine.”
He held up his hand stained with drying blood. “Then where the fuck did this come from?”
Chapter Twelve
“Oh.” She didn’t know why until that moment she’d been unaware of any discomfort, but now a stinging sensation behind her left ear made itself known. In fact, there was stinging in several places. She held up her hand where her knuckles oozed blood. “I didn’t realize. I had my hands over my ears. Seems like it was a good thing.”
In a controlled movement, Sam held up her hair from her neck. “You’re bleeding here, too. This is from flying glass. Damn it. We need to get you to the hospital.”
“No, we don’t,” she insisted.
Linc walked to the door. “I’m going to find a first aid kit.”
They were alone when Ellie took her gun from the waistband of her jeans. With the safety already set, she slipped it into the drawer of a drop-leaf table. She straightened and found herself pulled into a kiss that threatened to blister her with its heat before Sam released her.
“Sam, what—”
Hickman came in the open door, carrying a red plastic box.
“Oh. Good cover,” she murmured.
“Look who I found.” Hickman indicated the man following behind him. “Dr. Montoya just happened to be wandering around out front.”
“Sam is a good friend. He left a message saying Rachel had a possible concussion, so here I am,” Ben explained.
Sam exhaled sharply. “Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you got my voicemail.”
“I did. And your texts, so here I am.” He turned to Ellie. “Let’s take a look at you.”
She followed Ben into the kitchen where she shed Sam’s coat and sat in the chair Ben had pulled under the light. She glanced at the stove. The firefighter had not only turned off the burner under the pot of tortilla soup, he’d also found a lid for it. The sound of a power drill came from the library and Ellie thought the Pendleton Fire Department was awesome.
Sam washed his hands at the sink, and Ben followed suit, then donned gloves before scooting a chair to sit in front of her.
“First thing we’ll check for are signs of a concussion. Did you lose consciousness or experience nausea?”
“No.”
“How about blurry vision or feeling sluggish or groggy?”
“No again.”
He looked in her eyes with a light, then took the ear device from the medical kit and checked both ears. “Eyes and ears look fine, but there can be damage I can’t see. How’s your hearing?”
“Seems normal now. The ringing has stopped.”
“Good. I’m on duty in the ER at the hospital tomorrow. Come by and I’ll get you in with someone for a more thorough check, including running a couple of tests.” He gathered gloves, gauze pads, and various packets from the kit. “These cuts are shallow but will be sore for a couple days.” He kept his voice quiet, explaining what he was doing, and launching into stories about Georgie. “That girl has us figured out. She won’t fall asleep unless we’re rocking her. Justin and I agree we can’t get her accustomed to that, but then we’re so exhausted that we end up rocking her to sleep anyway.”
As a distraction, Ben’s tactic worked. Ellie found herself paying more attention to his story than having her injuries tended to. “You have an excellent bedside manner, Dr. M
ontoya,” she commented.
“You bet I do. Works better than tranquilizers to keep my patients calm.” He cleaned the cut on the back of her left hand and the one on her neck behind her ear where he applied butterfly strips. Sam did a good impression of a worried fiancée, resolutely staying by her side with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.
Ben tipped his head toward Sam. “This guy, however, could get a clue. If he looked at the defendants or lawyers in his courtroom with that face, he’d have them all asking that he recuse himself because of bias.”
Ellie eyed Sam. “Women must like that look. Have you seen the social media posts about him? There are women who fantasize about whether he’s wearing anything under his robes.”
Ben gave a bark of laughter as Sam’s frown deepened.
“Cut it out. You’re blowing it out of proportion.”
“Some of those posts have thousands of likes,” she said. “But since Sam is kind of cute when he’s not glowering, I get it.”
He gave a disgusted sigh and dropped into the chair beside her. “Are we done messing with me?”
“Yep, all done,” Ben affirmed, gaze travelling over Ellie. “Any cuts we missed?”
“Maybe on my back. I didn’t notice at the time, but it hurts now.”
“Adrenaline masks a lot of pain.”
Ellie winced when Ben lifted her shirt that had dried to a cut on her lower back while Sam swore ripely under his breath.
“Little more blood on this one, but it still didn’t get through the epidermis. Doesn’t need stitches. Between the glass and the blood, your shirt’s trashed.” Ben cleaned the wound, applied butterflies, and taped a bandage in place. “You’ll want to keep these dry.” He produced a lollipop from the medical kit and handed it to her. “Your reward for being the perfect patient.”
“Cool. I don’t know when I last had a lollipop, and it’s cherry, my favorite.” She unwrapped the treat and stuck it in her mouth. She spoke around the candy. “Thanks for tending my wounds, Ben. I’m sorry Sam pulled you away from home, but not sorry to avoid a visit to the ER tonight, which is where I think he would have dragged me.”
Chilled, Ellie rubbed her arms. Any warmth in the house had disappeared with the constant stream of people in and out the front door.
“Damn straight, I would have,” Sam muttered. He disappeared up the back stairs as Officer Hickman stepped into the kitchen.
“Looks like Dr. Montoya got you patched up, Ms. Sinclair.”
“Yes, he did an excellent job.”
Sam returned with a charcoal gray sweatshirt that he helped pull over her head. It was too big, but she was glad for the enfolding warmth.
Hickman addressed Sam. “Officers are talking to your neighbors to see if anyone heard or saw anything. The marshal fellow says you’ve got someone sending you nasty emails, and you had that incident in your backyard a couple weeks ago. We’ll be beefing up patrols in your neighborhood. Got a sec to show us the recording from your security cameras?”
Hickman took a seat at the table on Sam’s on his other side as he accessed the footage on his iPad and brought up the recordings from different camera angles. Ellie moved closer to look over his shoulder. He tapped the camera that showed the south side of the house, then scrolled to before the time the alert had come on his phone. It’d been dark, and with no lights on that side of the house, the video showed only a shadowy image crouching under the trees. Then the figure straightened to heave an object at the house.
“He’s throwing the rock through the window,” Hickman said. “Ah, and there’s the money shot.”
The figure had run forward to heave the flashbang device through the broken window, and for a brief second his hooded face had turned to the camera.
“Not much of a money shot.” Ellie drew in a sharp breath when she shifted and the injury on her back made its presence known. She caught Sam’s frown. “About all you can tell is he’s male and looks young.”
“And that he’s left-handed,” Sam said.
“Good observation,” Hickman noted. “And that’s more than we had before. Judge Creed, can you send that to me? Here’s my email.” He handed Sam a business card and rose to his feet. “We’re about done here. Our firefighting brothers and sisters are about to leave. Don’t be bashful about calling us back if you have more trouble or think of anything that might be helpful in tracking down this yahoo.”
Hickman left and Linc came back in. Sam went into the living room to speak to him, so Ellie let the dogs in, giving them both a good rub before retrieving their bowls to feed them. She turned the burner back on under the soup and was leaning against the counter when Sam returned.
Once again, he gave her that all-encompassing look that made her think he was assessing every nuance of her appearance. He picked up her hand with the bandaged knuckles, rubbing his thumb lightly over the white tape. When he released her, she recognized the remote, controlled look as the same one he’d possessed at the Marshals Office in Portland. That had been less than two weeks ago, but somehow her life had changed fundamentally since then.
He opened a cupboard and set a bottle of pain reliever on the counter. “Take two.”
“I will after dinner.”
“Don’t wait and let the pain set in.”
“It’s not that bad, Sam. A few small cuts, that’s all.”
Her comment seemed to light a fuse. “Fuck that. A flashbang all but blew up in your face, and you’re damned lucky if you come out of this with no hearing loss. You’ve been cut by flying glass, and you’ve lost blood. You were hurt because you’re my fiancée.”
“Fake fiancée.”
His gaze flashed, and she suddenly realized that the remote look wasn’t due to lack of emotion but was a means to mask that he was feeling too much. “The guy who hurt you sees you as my fiancée, so the distinction is irrelevant.”
“Okay.” She cleared her throat, not sure how to deal with him in this kind of mood. Add in that he was doing a good impression of truly caring about her, and heat began coursing through her from her cheeks to low in her belly, dispelling any chill she might have felt earlier. “Um, the soup shouldn’t take too long to heat if you’re hungry.”
He stepped back and filled a glass with water, and then shook two tablets from the pain medication bottle. He handed her both.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Take them, Eleanor.”
She rolled her eyes but swallowed the pills.
“There enough soup for your team?”
“Why? Are they coming over?”
“I’ve called a meeting.”
“Oh, good idea. We should make sure everyone is working with the same information, such as it is.” She lifted the lid on the pot to find the tortilla soup beginning to simmer. “I’ll text Seth. He and Bella can pick up tacos or something to go with the soup. This won’t stretch to five people.”
Linc came in while Ellie was finishing her message to Seth. She dug up a cheese grater and a block of Monterey Jack cheese and handed them to her brother.
Sam set bowls on the counter and Ellie opened a bag of tortilla chips. About thirty minutes later the dogs alerted them that someone was at the back door. Sam let in Seth and Bella who carried bags of tacos and a six-pack of beer.
When she entered the kitchen, Bella wrapped Ellie in a hug. “Are you okay, friend?”
She returned the embrace. “I’m fine. Sam is more upset about all this than I am.”
“Of course he is. A man wants to protect his fiancée, even if she’s a temporary fiancée.”
Bella released her and Ellie felt Seth behind her. She turned and he took a long minute to study her appearance before opening his arms. Ellie stepped into the embrace to rest her head on his shoulder and felt some of the tension drain from her body.
Her eldest brother had always been her rock, had always looked out for her, and had always understood her. He pressed a kiss to her temple before letting her go.
“I’m fine, Seth.”
“You will be.” He stepped back and addressed the group. “Let’s take a breather. We need a minute to be glad we’re all here and that the injuries Ellie sustained are minimal. Talk about the investigation can wait until after we’ve eaten.”
Ellie caught the unguarded expression on Bella’s face as she watched Seth, and not for the first time wished her friend wasn’t so determined to keep her feelings for Seth to herself. Ellie had broached the subject once and the pain on Bella’s face had forced her to back off.
Ellie ladled soup into bowls while Linc sprinkled on the shredded cheese, then took the bowls to the table. She found a big basket in a cupboard and filled it with tortilla chips. Tacos were distributed, beer passed out, and everyone sat around the table to dig in.
Conversation flowed, tacos and soup were consumed with compliments to the chef, and with Cleo settled at her feet under the table, Ellie finally let herself relax.
The man sitting beside her, however, emanated tension.
Sam’s participation in the conversation was minimal, she’d caught him more than once drumming his fingers on the side of his beer bottle, and a glance at his face showed a muscle twitching in his jaw. Having someone attack your home had to elicit a range of emotions. She’d cut him some slack. This type of thing happened in her world, not his.
When everyone had finished eating, Ellie rose to gather dishes to take into the kitchen. Sam followed her carrying empty beer bottles.
“Ellie.”
Bent over the dishwasher, she glanced up at the serious tone.
“I don’t want to blindside you.”
She straightened and braced herself. That could only mean bad news. “What are you talking about?”
“I called your team over because I’m asking Seth to reassign you. I no longer want to act like we’re a couple.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can and I will. I’m sorry, but this isn’t working out.”
She jerked back as if he’d slapped her, and she wouldn’t have been any less surprised if he had. “What about my assignment isn’t working out? My job is to protect you while I keep my eyes open to find who’s threatening you and I’ve been doing that.”
Hidden Judgment Page 12