Glory sniffed the ground, nudged the door with her nose.
Gavin touched Cassie’s arm.
“He’s in there,” he mouthed.
She nodded, relieved, anxious to get the little boy back inside. Anxious to be back inside herself. She was acting brave because she had to, but Gavin’s words had lodged in her chest, sent icy chills up her spine.
Someone wanted her dead.
She’d known it before he’d said it, but somehow his words made it seem more real.
“Tommy,” she called softly, pushing open the door and crouching so she could see inside. The kids brought all kinds of things into the fort—toys, stuffed animals, books. Cassie had dragged kids’ chairs and a miniature table in there a couple of years ago, and during the spring and early fall, she let the kids with good grades take their books out to the playhouse to study.
“Go away,” Tommy called, his voice muffled and thick. She could see him sitting against the far wall, knees pulled up to his chest, head down.
Had he been crying?
“Tommy, we need to go back inside. Captain McCord wants to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to no one,” Tommy sobbed.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” She crawled into the fort, scooted around the table and chairs, sat beside him on the dirt floor.
“Go away,” he muttered, not looking up as she slid an arm around his shoulders.
“You know I can’t.”
“You can do whatever you want. You’re a adult.”
“Okay, so I don’t want to. Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying!” he shouted.
“Lying about it doesn’t make it not true. What’s going on? You went out last night, didn’t you?”
“No!” he said emphatically. She glanced across the small space, saw Gavin crouched in the doorway of the house, Glory nosing in beside him. He gestured for her to bring Tommy out, and she knew she had to. Whatever Tommy was thinking, whatever he was feeling, they could discuss it in the safety of the house.
“That’s fine, then, but something is bothering you. Let’s go inside. You can have another doughnut, and you can tell Captain McCord what you’re so afraid of.”
“No,” he said with a little less energy.
“Why not? You love doughnuts.”
“I don’t like that old house. The window and door are broken. The bad man can get in again.”
“Not while Glory is there,” Gavin said.
“She can’t always be there,” Tommy said with a heavy sigh that made him sound old and jaded.
“My boss says she can. Margaret works directly with the president, so what she says goes.”
“Really?” Tommy finally lifted his head, his face streaked with tears. He loved all things historical and everything that had to do with the government. At his age, that was unusual, but Cassie encouraged the interest, bringing him downtown as often as she could.
“Yes. Really.”
“Did you meet the president?” he asked, and Gavin nodded.
“I’ve met him. I even spoke to him a couple of times.”
“Wow! What’s he like?”
“I’ll tell you once we’re inside. You’re right about there being a bad man, Tommy. My job…and Cassie’s…is to make sure you’re safe. That’ll be a lot easier to do inside the house.”
Tommy hesitated, then started crawling to the door.
Success! But not because of Cassie.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, and she didn’t have time to think about it.
She scooted out of the playhouse and took Tommy’s hand. He was small for his age, thin and small-boned and a little fragile-looking. She had a soft spot for him. But, then, she had soft spots for all the kids who came through her door.
Most people assumed that she had taken the job because she wanted to help children. They assumed that she cared about the kids, that she wanted the best for them. They were right, but what they didn’t seem to understand was that she loved them. That when they entered All Our Kids, they were her family. For however long they stayed there, she became their mother in every way that mattered.
“You nearly scared the life out of me, Tommy,” she said as she led him across the backyard. Gavin and Glory were right beside them, but she didn’t feel safe. She felt exposed. “Please don’t ever—”
Glory growled, her ears standing straight up as she turned her head toward the woods. Another growl, and she was tugging against the lead, snapping at something Cassie couldn’t see, barking ferociously.
“Get down!” Gavin shouted, tackling Cassie and Tommy, bringing them both to the ground so quickly, Cassie wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten there.
*
The first bullet slammed into the ground, bits of dirt flying into Gavin’s face as he pulled his gun. The second whizzed just above Gavin’s head. He aimed for the tree line, fired one round. Another.
Glory stayed beside him, her training preventing her from getting between him and the gunman. Cassie and Tommy were a different story. The little boy was sobbing hysterically, trying desperately to get up and run while Cassie tried just as desperately to keep him down, to cover him with her body.
If Gavin didn’t take control quickly, she’d die trying to keep Tommy alive.
He fired a third round. No returning gunfire. The gunman had either been hit, taken cover or run.
Gavin was hoping for the first, but he wasn’t banking on it. The guy was determined. That much was obvious. He wanted to take Cassie out, and he was going to do whatever it took to make that happen.
Gavin was going to make sure he wasn’t successful. He called for backup, unhooked Glory’s lead. The dog’s ears were alert, her eyes trained on the woods, but she wasn’t barking, wasn’t giving any indication that they were in imminent danger.
“He’s on the run,” he muttered, turning so that he was face to face with Cassie. Her deep green eyes were wide, her face colorless. She had Tommy completely covered with her body, but the kid was continuing to fight her tooth and nail. “We need to get him in the house. Can you manage it?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure, Cassie?” He bit the words out, every minute that he was talking a minute that he wasn’t chasing down the perp.
“Yes!” She rolled off Tommy, scooped him into her arms. The kid’s mouth was open in a silent scream, his eyes huge. He’d snagged something as Cassie pulled him up. A rock or brick that he was clutching in his left hand. A puff of dusty earth trickled from his right.
“Go!” Gavin shouted, firing another round at the tree line as Cassie raced to the house, Tommy flailing and screaming in her arms. She was a small woman, and Gavin wasn’t sure she could make it with a forty-pound kid, but somehow she managed to run up the porch steps, slam her shoulder against the broken door.
Once.
Twice.
The door gave, and she tumbled in.
He thought he heard her shouting something, but he was too busy issuing Glory’s command to hear. She took off, nearly flying across the grassy yard as Gavin sprinted after her. His radio buzzed, the dispatcher asking for clarification of his location. He gave it quickly, the words panting out as he raced along the path that led to the congressman’s property.
Was that where the perp was headed?
The place was still a crime scene, the area cordoned off, but the police presence was gone, and the long driveway that led to the house would be the perfect place for someone who wanted easy access to All Our Kids.
And an easy escape from it.
Was the perp’s car parked there?
Glory was a hundred feet ahead, the sunlight streaming onto her dark coat as she raced through the woods. She knew where she was heading. She could hear what Gavin couldn’t, sense what he couldn’t. He’d come to count on her completely, to trust her implicitly. When she veered from the path, he followed, not calling her back, not doubting her direction.
She was moving through
the trees, no hesitation, but no frantic barking, either. The danger was gone, and Glory knew it. She’d keep going until she was called off, but she’d lost her frenetic edge.
They were close to the road that meandered through Harland’s ritzy neighborhood. Gavin could see the pavement through the trees, see a glint of sunlight reflecting on metal. No one parked on the street. Not in a neighborhood like this one. But there was a car on the road. Gavin could see it clearly as he tore through thick foliage, sprinted up a shallow rise.
The perp’s car?
He hoped so. He wanted the guy in custody today. Not tomorrow. Not next week.
The car engine revved as he stepped out onto the pavement. Glory growled, her body going tense again, her ears pricked, her dark eyes focused on the black Toyota parked in a small grassy area to the left of the road. It jumped forward, speeding toward them so quickly, Gavin didn’t have time to fire a shot.
He dove for cover, sliding down the embankment on his back, the sound of a car slamming into one of the trees filling his ears as he turned onto his stomach, and fired a shot that hit the fender of the car.
Tires squealed, and he knew the guy was backing up, getting ready to speed away.
Gavin scrambled up to the road, gun still drawn, and nerves alive with adrenaline. He wanted to catch a glimpse of the gunman, needed to let the guy know that he had him in his sights.
Glory panted a few feet away, ready to lunge. Ready to do everything in her power to protect and serve.
He called her back as they stepped onto the road again.
The car was already heading away, speeding along the road, heading toward the entrance to the community. Gavin fired another shot, smiling grimly as a back tire blew out.
The perp kept going, the car nearly airborne as it raced over a bump in the road and disappeared around a steep curve.
They’d lost him.
Gavin holstered his firearm, frustration eating at his gut.
They’d been close, and that made losing the guy even worse.
He called in the color and make of the car, following the path it had taken around the curve in the road. The car wouldn’t get far with a blown tire. That gave him a small sense of satisfaction, but it wasn’t enough. They weren’t far from the heart of DC. The guy would probably abandon his vehicle and walk out of the neighborhood.
A Capitol K-9 patrol car sped into view, slowing as it approached, the driver’s side window sliding down.
Brooke Clark peered out at him. “Need a lift?” she asked. A former army captain, she had a small frame that belied her strength and abilities. More than one criminal had been fooled into thinking she couldn’t do her job and do it well. Each and every one of them had regretted the assumption.
“You’re supposed to be off duty,” he responded. But, he opened the back hatch of the vehicle, let Glory jump in with Brooke’s golden retriever, Mercy, before he walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle and climbed in.
“I was. I filed some paperwork at headquarters and was on my way home when the call came in. I was halfway here, so I came.” She shrugged. “DC police are looking for the black Toyota. I figured I’d be more help at All Our Kids then driving around looking for a car. Mercy is great at evidence detection, but neither of us are experts at tracking.”
“You hear anything from Chase while you were at headquarters?” he asked as she turned the vehicle around, heading to the long driveway that led to All Our kids.
“Last I heard, he was still waiting for the search warrant.”
“That’s a long wait.” Way longer than usual. If it didn’t come through soon, Gavin was going to have to make some calls. Or have his boss do it.
“We’re talking about a senator’s daughter,” Brooke pointed out.
“And?”
“No one wants the media circus a search of her apartment is going to bring. Either that, or Erin’s daddy got wind of what was going on and called in some favors.”
“Doesn’t matter how many favors the senator has to call in. We’ll get the search warrant. We have probable cause. No attorney can argue against our evidence for long.” Gavin had no patience for politics, and he didn’t believe in granting favors to people based on the social circles they moved in.
“I hope you’re right,” she responded, as she turned into the driveway of All Our Kids. “We need access to that apartment.”
“You think we’re going to find something incriminating?” he asked.
“A woman who routinely returns to her apartment doesn’t just decide not to go home one night. Not unless she has a really good reason to stay away.” She parked the car, turning to face Gavin, the ends of her dark hair brushing the collar of her shirt. “I’m interested to know what Erin’s disappearance means. Did she run off because she saw something? Did she run because she’s guilty? Did someone take her?”
“We don’t know that she’s disappeared. She might have gone out of town or spent the night at a friend’s house.”
“Come on, Gavin,” she scoffed. “Her boyfriend is dead. That’s all over the news. Unless she’s in a cabin out in the middle of nowhere without access to the internet, she’s heard about it. So why hasn’t she called the police, checked in with the congressman, done anything that a girlfriend would do if she found out the man she loved was dead?”
“Those are good questions.” He didn’t have any answers. Yet. But he planned to get them.
“They’re worrisome questions. We’ve got a lot more that we don’t know than that we do. I don’t like it.”
“The whole situation is worrisome, Brooke. And, I don’t like it, either,” he responded, opening the door and getting Glory out of the back. “We’ve got eight kids and two adults in this house, and a blatantly aggressive perp. He’ll keep coming back. Doesn’t matter how many dogs, how much police presence we have on the ground. He’ll find a way to get to Cassie and the kids.”
“I was thinking the same.” Brooke put Mercy on the lead, and met Gavin’s eyes. “I guess you’ve got a plan to keep them safe?”
“We’ve got a couple of safe houses. I’m going to put in a call to Margaret. Get cleared to use one of them.”
“It better be a big house,” Brooke responded. “Because I don’t think there’s any way you’re going to separate that group. Not if Cassie has anything to say about it.”
She was right about that, and Gavin knew it.
It was going to be difficult enough to convince Cassie to pack the kids up and move them. There was no way she’d agree to have the kids separated into groups.
The three-story brick house seemed to glow in the bright sunlight, the windows gleaming, the porch whitewashed and spotless. It should have been a haven to the children living within its walls, but the sanctuary had been breached, and the kids were terrified. Gavin had sensed their fear, had felt it as he’d offered the kids doughnuts and juice, tried to make small talk with them and make a connection that would help them feel comfortable enough to open up to him.
He walked up the porch stairs, surprised when the door flew open and Virginia ran out, her eyes wide, her face pale.
“You’re here! Hurry up! She’s bleeding to death!” she shouted before turning on her heels and dashing back inside.
EIGHT
“I am not bleeding to death,” Cassie mumbled for the fifteenth time, the words muffled by the wad of paper towel she was holding to her head. Tommy was small, but his fists were mighty. Especially when he had a rock in one of them. The blood splattered all over her shirt was proof of that.
She didn’t dare look in the powder room mirror. Virginia had taken one look at her face and started screaming hysterically. The kids had scattered to the winds, running upstairs and into their rooms, Rachel carrying poor Juan who was screaming almost as loudly as Tommy. Only Virginia and Destiny had remained, one of them looking shell-shocked and scared, the other hollering for help that wasn’t going to come.
If Cassie hadn’t had blood running dow
n her temple she’d have told Virginia to calm down for the sake of the kids. As it was, she’d had to find a way to staunch the bleeding without any help from her assistant.
“Are you sure?” Destiny hovered in the doorway, the phone in one hand, a baseball bat in the other. For such a young girl, she had a good head on her shoulders. She didn’t usually panic and was helpful when help was most needed. “Virginia said—”
“How about we stop talking about what Virginia said for a while?” she muttered, the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. She’d already had a headache. Being slapped in the temple with a fist-sized rock hadn’t made it any better.
“But—”
“Cassie!” Virginia yelled. “Are you okay? I found some help.”
“I don’t need help,” she called. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine! You bled all over the kitchen.” Virginia peeked into the powder room, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “You’re still bleeding, aren’t you? How much blood can a person lose before she passes out?” she asked no one in particular.
Cassie sighed, and kept pressing on the two-inch gash in her temple. She wasn’t going to bleed to death, but she hoped to avoid stitches. The kids were traumatized enough. If she had to make a trip to the ER, they’d be even more upset.
“A lot,” a man said.
Not just any man, either. Gavin. Cassie recognized the voice, bracing herself as he stepped into view.
He’d put his life on the line for her and for Tommy, positioning his body so that it was between them and the gunman. Maybe the wound to her head was worse than she thought, because looking at him standing in the doorway of the powder room, his eyes bright blue and somber, she felt something melt in the region of her heart.
She turned away, catching her reflection in the mirror.
She looked like she felt—ragged. Blood stained her cheek. Her hair stood up in a hundred different directions. She had dark circles under her eyes and dirt on her chin.
It didn’t matter. She had no one to impress. Nowhere to go. Her life was her job, her kids. That’s the way she wanted it.
Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence Page 9