Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence

by Shirlee McCoy

  Plunging through the opening, Amber fell onto her knees, her palms smacking against the linoleum. Looking up, she saw Lou, the security guard, and Carol, one of the counselors, staring down at her.

  “Miss Amber, are you okay?” Lou asked as he helped her to her feet.

  Her eyes darted between the inky darkness behind her and her colleagues. “The lights went off and somebody’s down there.”

  The older gentleman turned wide eyes on Amber. “Was it one of the counselors or a client?”

  “I don’t know.” Amber barely got the words out, she was so out of breath. “No one answered.”

  Lou nodded, reached around her and flipped on the light switch. “I’ll take a look.”

  “Should you be going down there alone?”

  “I’ve got my radio and Taser right here.” He tapped the holster on his belt. “But chances are slim of someone getting in from the outside.” He headed into the basement, his heavy work boots clanking down the metal steps.

  Amber leaned against the wall, anxiety churning her stomach. “If someone did get in, what if they already got away?”

  Carol shook her head, her gaze gentle. “Lou’s right, it would be tough for someone to get in…or out, especially without a badge. Somebody probably hit the light switch not realizing you were down there. It’s an old building. One switch controls everything.”

  “But…I heard someone.” Amber straightened, panic still cycling through her. “I think we should call the police…or—”

  Carol cut her off, eyes narrowing. “Like I said, it’s an old building, so there’s lots of creaky and eerie noises. If someone had gotten in without a badge, an alarm sounds and the police are instantly notified.”

  “But I really did—”

  Carol held up her hand. “Hold on, let’s check with Lou. There aren’t many places to hide down there.” She stepped to the door, glanced down. “Lou, you okay?”

  “Coast is clear,” he hollered back. “No one’s down here.”

  Tumultuous thoughts pelted Amber. Maybe paranoia was getting the best of her. Or was she just going crazy? Probably a little of both.

  Carol turned back to Amber, rubbed her shoulder. “You’ve had a lot going on. It’s hard not to be paranoid.”

  Amber attempted a small smile that wasn’t quite successful. “Thanks, Carol. I think I’ll just download the files to my flash drive and print them out later.”

  On still-shaky legs, Amber headed into an office down the hall.

  She sat down in front of the keyboard, pulled her flash drive from her pocket and connected it to the shelter’s computer system. With a flick of the mouse, the screen came to life and she started to download her client files. She should have done this to start with.

  “You didn’t tell me you’d be here today.”

  Amber’s head snapped up. From the other side of the doorway, Tony’s wide grin greeted her. She leaned back in her seat and smiled. “Actually, I wasn’t sure until late last night. Patrick doesn’t think I should be driving alone, and I feel rather awkward asking him to take me wherever I need to go.”

  “Next time, give me a call. I’ll be happy to give you a ride. I agree with Patrick, you shouldn’t be driving alone right now.” Tony dragged a straight-back chair from the corner of the room, placed it close to the desk and plunked down into it.

  “Thank you.” She looped a strand of hair behind her ear. “But with a target on my back, it wouldn’t be a good idea for you to drive me, either.”

  “You’re probably right. I guess I’ll leave chauffeuring you around to that detective of yours.”

  She didn’t miss his words. Detective of yours. She breathed deep, not even wanting to entertain that thought. “Patrick has been great. He rearranged his schedule to drop me off this morning. And this afternoon he agreed to run me by the Port City Community Center to firm up the details for the fund-raiser.”

  “Your own personal bodyguard. You can’t beat that.” Tony leaned back in the chair, folded his arms and crossed one ankle over the other. “The ex-boyfriend thing. Is it going okay?”

  “Fine…well, awkward, but fine.”

  That elicited a chuckle. “Sounds interesting.”

  To say the least, she thought. She nodded her reply.

  “So bring me up to speed on what else is going on with the case.”

  Amber shifted in her chair. “What do you want? The long, drawn-out version, or a quick summary?”

  Tony shrugged one shoulder. “Quick summary, I guess.”

  “A lot of dead ends and cold leads.”

  He gazed at her, with one eyebrow raised. “There must be something significant.”

  “Nada. Well, except Patrick is certain Carl Shaw was somehow involved. And probably Randall Becker.”

  “Shaw. He’s the one that’s—”

  “Dead. Yeah.”

  Tony pulled at the tuft of goatee under his lower lip. “Unbelievable. Whoever this guy is, he seems to stop at nothing.”

  “The worst part, whoever is trying to kill me wants to protect himself from being discovered. Yet what he doesn’t realize is that I have no recollection of who he is.”

  “Maybe he’s afraid that one day your repressed memories will come back.”

  Amber shook her head. “A delusional fear on his part. I never even saw the guy.”

  “Ah.” Tony lifted his index finger. “But the mind is a funny thing. You never know. Then again, even if you never remember, making your story known would spark speculation that could jog someone else’s memory or lead to an investigation, if not by police, then maybe by the media. As you know the media are pretty good about digging up dirt. Somebody who attended that party has something to hide.”

  “Like Carl?”

  Tony shrugged. “Just saying, a lot of folks have secrets they don’t want uncovered.”

  She reluctantly nodded. She hadn’t considered that. Nor did she want to. If Tony was on to something, who knew how many people who had attended that party had secrets that were worth killing over.

  *

  Inside the department’s crime analysis office, Patrick poured himself a cup of coffee as he waited for Liza to finish a phone call. Seated at her desk on the opposite side of the room, she’d been jotting down notes from the time he’d walked in. Hopefully answers to questions about Amber’s case. He needed a break, something to jump-start his stalled investigation.

  Patrick plopped into a chair with a huge sigh. Crossing one ankle over his knee, he took a swig of the strong brew. Time was of the essence. Ten days until Amber’s fund-raiser and he needed not only fresh clues, but also cold hard facts.

  Something to tie Randall to Amber’s attack and, if his gut was right, to Carl Shaw’s murder.

  Liza finally hung up the phone and turned to Patrick, her pale blue eyes indicating her exhaustion. She’d been working hard on this case. He appreciated that.

  “Any news?” He lifted a brow.

  Liza nodded. “It seems that Randall Becker has another hobby besides karate and running 5k marathons.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Peddling drugs.”

  Much intrigued, Patrick sat up straighter. “Really?”

  The door flew open. Captain Peterson came ambling into the room munching on a cheeseburger. “I thought I’d find you here.”

  Patrick set his drink down and stood. “What do you know, Vance?”

  “The ballistics report came back on the bullet that killed Carl Shaw.”

  “And?”

  “Perfect match to the bullets fired at Amber’s center.”

  Things looked better all the time. “Good news. Liza also found another interesting tidbit about Randall.” Patrick gestured toward Liza, prompting her to tell him.

  Liza pushed back in her chair. “Two years ago he was arrested for possession of heroin and marijuana with intent to sell. The charges were dropped before he went to court. Within six weeks, he opened his karate school—a three-mil
lion-dollar venture.”

  “Debt-free?” Patrick and Vance both said at the same time.

  “Not debt-free. He has a loan with an offshore trust. This all happened about the same time Carl bought his first house. Coincidently, his loan is also with an offshore trust of a different name.”

  “Find out who the trustees are.” Vance jumped on that one.

  Liza nodded. “I have someone working on that now.”

  “There’s a lot of banking secrecy in offshore accounts,” Patrick said, shaking his head.

  “True,” Vance said. “Drug cartels and money-laundering schemes are never easy to track.”

  Patrick whistled softly between his teeth. “So both Carl Shaw and Randall Becker moonlighted as drug dealers…” He stopped, let that soak in, then said, “One or both were concerned about Amber linking them to what happened eleven years ago at a frat party.”

  “Appears that way.” Liza nodded.

  Dozens of scenarios blew through Patrick’s head, none of which made sense. “If whoever wants Amber out of the picture and thought she knew who he was, why not kill her years ago?”

  Vance’s mouth was full. He held up a finger while he swallowed. “Maybe she never posed a threat before.”

  Patrick thought about that. “Okay. I get it. The fund-raiser obviously is a threat to somebody. But why assume she would tell her story now, when she’d kept silent for all these years?”

  “Especially since she never saw her attacker,” Vance added, chucking his wrapper in the trash.

  “Maybe it has something to do with her rising notoriety in the community?” Liza offered.

  “Maybe,” Patrick murmured, thinking back to something Amber had told him. “Amber had kept quiet about what happened and the event basically blew over, no charges filed, no investigation. Now she’s coming out of her shell, speaking out against abuse against women.”

  Liza smiled. “So you may be looking for more than her attacker.”

  “True. Someone who knew what had taken place that night and has drug ties to Randall and Carl.”

  “Makes sense.” Vance slapped Patrick on the shoulder on his way out the door. “I have a feeling this case is about to blow right open.”

  Patrick thought so, too.

  He turned on his heel and followed Vance out the door. “Thanks, Liza,” he called over his shoulder. “You’ve been a great help. If you find out anything else, let me know.”

  “There is one more thing, Patrick.”

  Midstride, Patrick halted, turned back.

  Liza stared at him for a moment, twirled a pen in her hand.

  Patrick shifted, quirked an eyebrow. “What is it?”

  She rested an elbow on the desk. “I did find one more interesting tidbit.” Her slender eyebrows pulled slightly together. “It seems Amber Talbot once had a fiancé. She broke their engagement after the frat party incident.”

  A story he knew well. But the reminder still cut like a knife. “That’s correct.”

  “So sad. One traumatic event changed everything.” A beat passed. “Why didn’t you tell me, Patrick?”

  “That I used to be engaged to Amber?” Patrick shrugged. “If I thought it was relevant to the case, I would have.”

  “This case is personal to you.” She dropped her pen and crossed her arms over her chest. “All the work I’ve done, and you already knew most of it. I wish I had known I was just filling in the blanks.”

  “Actually, I knew very little.” Patrick raised his hands, palms out, warding off a lecture. “Amber never divulged anything about a frat house party or what had happened until she was attacked at her house.”

  A frown tightened Liza’s brow further. “Are you talking about her attack a few days ago?”

  “I am.” Patrick nodded.

  “Eleven years after the frat party incident?”

  “Unfortunately.” It was a fact he wasn’t proud of.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Seems odd that she wouldn’t share something so traumatic with you.”

  Guilt swelled Patrick’s chest, but he didn’t let it show on his face. “The dynamics of our relationship at the time weren’t as strong as they should have been.”

  “What about now?”

  He lifted a brow. “Now?”

  “The dynamics of your relationship now? I couldn’t help but notice the time you’re spending on her case and with her.”

  “I’m doing my job. She’s in a dangerous situation.”

  “So you’ve assigned yourself as her personal bodyguard—”

  Patrick didn’t wait for her to finish. “I’m a detective and yes, I’m doing my best to keep her safe. Amber is still a friend.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “A friend? Is that all she is to you?”

  Infuriated by the surge of emotion that her question brought, Patrick inhaled a long breath through clenched teeth. “I need to get going. Whoever is after Amber is a loose cannon. We need to get him off the street.” Before Liza had the opportunity to agree with him or question him further, he turned and walked out the door.

  Twenty minutes later, Patrick pulled up to the front of the battered-women’s shelter, parked by the curb and climbed out of his truck, trying his best to dispel Liza’s perception, but having a hard time doing so.

  He had taken on the role of Amber’s personal bodyguard.

  He had definitely stepped out of his professional scope. It wasn’t his place to take on the task to personally protect her.

  Even if the tug in his heart told him differently.

  Maybe it might be time to back off some. He’d already beefed up patrols in her area.

  Then again, nothing seemed to deter her attacker.

  Patrick continued at a steady clip down the walk toward the building, his mind at war with his emotions.

  He barely got enough rest now. He’d never sleep at night if he had to wonder if Amber was safe.

  His emotions winning, he pressed the doorbell. He would do as much for any friend, he told himself.

  “Can I help you?” the voice crackled through the intercom on the wall beside the door.

  “Detective Patrick Wiley, here to pick up Amber Talbot.”

  He had a job to do, and his mission objective was to keep Amber safe.

  THIRTEEN

  After Amber slid into the passenger seat of the SUV, Patrick rounded the front and slipped in behind the wheel.

  She dropped her messenger bag on the floor by her feet and buckled her seat belt.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s in that thing?” Patrick’s amused look made her smile.

  “What? My little tote?”

  “Little?” He broke into a full-fledged grin, sending her heart skittering. “I’m surprised you can even pick it up.” He started the SUV and pulled away from the curb.

  Ah. He underestimated her. She bit the inside of her cheek to hold in a chuckle. She loved it when Patrick relaxed. And that smile. She almost sighed.

  Amber blinked, sat more erect. “Actually, it’s not too heavy and just big enough for everything I need. My purse, a few files and notes, makeup, a hairbrush, toothbrush, gum and mints, pens, markers, my computer tablet and an umbrella.”

  He glanced over at her, and she added, “Oh, and a granola bar.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I figured something like that. Or a bag of bricks.” He laughed as he pulled onto the thoroughfare and headed down the road toward the community center.

  “Feels like it sometimes.” She loved this side of Patrick. “So how did your day go?”

  “Well, we’re piecing things together. Liza dug up some new information that looks promising.”

  “Liza… She must be good at her job.”

  “She great. Don’t know how I’d get by without her.”

  Amber swallowed, a sudden thickness in her throat. She glanced out the window. “She’s quite lovely,” she said after a moment. “You’re fortunate to have someone like her
in your life.”

  A stunned silence followed the comment.

  She glanced at him just long enough to notice his furrowed brow.

  Great. He was probably wondering how to respond. Even more, wondering why she was prying into his personal life and making assumptions—like a nosey ex-girlfriend.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Heat swarmed Amber’s body and her pulse kicked up. Chagrin inched in. She drifted down in her seat.

  Up ahead the traffic light turned red. Patrick braked and the SUV slowed to a stop. As they waited for the light, Patrick glanced at her. “About Liza—”

  “Patrick, I’m sorry.” Amber waved off any explanation. “You don’t have to explain anything. It’s none of my business,” she concluded, hoping to put a plug in the conversation.

  “Well, thank you. Although, I’m not sure what I have to explain.”

  Of course he didn’t owe her an explanation for anything. She stared out the window, willing the light to turn green.

  “I’m just curious. How did you…um, put me and Liza together?”

  Great. Apparently he did want to talk about this. “Well…” Anxiety raised her voice to a crackly high pitch. “You were out with her the day you introduced us.” Okay, that sounded lame, even to her own ears. Although better than admitting that she had an overactive imagination and the thought of seeing him out with any woman made her stomach knot. Nope, not a confession she wanted him to hear or believe herself.

  “Ah, you assumed we were on a date?”

  Her heart pounding, she managed a nod.

  “You know, it’s never safe to assume, because I’m not dating Liza.” There was a teasing reprimand in his voice.

  Her face got hotter. Her gaze snapped to his. “You’re right. Sometimes my imagination gets the best of me.” Because that didn’t sound any better, she clamped her lips.

  The twinkling in his eyes told her he was enjoying watching her squirm. Her heart that was sputtering before was now doing laps in her chest.

  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t interested in Liza. An arctic chill rippled through her body, giving an unnerving jolt of reality.

  It was hard enough to be around him assuming he was involved with someone. But single and unattached, a whole new battle began—between her heart and her head.