by Laura Scott
But now it looked as if Travis was in trouble again. He’d called her a few weeks ago, asking if she’d keep Abby over the weekend he was supposed to take her. Of course she’d agreed, but she’d also sensed tension in his tone.
She’d asked what was wrong and he blamed his stress on work. As he was the director of research and development for Sci-Tech, she hadn’t thought too much about it.
But now she couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it than that.
Paige took several deep breaths, burying her face in the collar of the detective’s black leather jacket. The scent of leather, combined with his aftershave, was surprisingly calming. She turned her attention to her daughter. Abby was plastered against her, hanging on as if she’d never let go. She was glad to realize that Abby had managed to keep a firm grip on Ellie. Having her favorite toy with her should assist in keeping her calm.
“Hey, Abby, you can sit up if you like. We’re safe now. The nice policeman, Detective...” She frowned, forgetting the guy’s name.
“Miles,” he supplied in a low, masculine tone.
“Detective Miles helped us get away.”
Abby moved her head a bit, as if seeking a more comfortable angle, but didn’t say anything in response.
“Mrs. Olson?” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
“You may as well call me Paige.” She forced a smile. The detective was wearing a long-sleeved light blue shirt and dark slacks, and she wondered if he was cold, since she still had his jacket. “Thanks for helping us.”
“You’re welcome. Please, call me Miles.” He cleared his throat. “Will you walk me through the events that happened before I arrived?”
She swallowed hard. “I was finishing up the dinner dishes while Abby was playing in her room. I heard a crash and hurried over to see she’d dropped her tablet. She must have been afraid that I’d yell at her, because she was hiding under the bed.”
“Go on,” he urged.
“When I bent down to check if she was under there, the window shattered. I heard a loud bang and realized that someone was shooting at the house. I was able to get Abby to come out and my plan was to hide in the bathroom until the police arrived.”
“Did you call them?”
“No.” She realized her phone was still on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t have my phone. I thought about going back to the kitchen, but then I wondered if it might be better to hide.” She didn’t want to say exactly what she’d thought, since she knew Abby was listening.
“I was outside the front of your house when I heard the gunshots,” he said.
Now that it was over, she was grateful for his impeccable timing. “I’m glad.”
“When was the last time you spoke to your ex-husband?” Miles asked.
She grimaced. “Last week. He was supposed to take Abby for the weekend, but he called to cancel again.”
“Again?”
“He’s supposed to take her every other weekend, but he’s canceled three times in a row. But I know he keeps in touch with Abby on ChatTime, right, Abby?”
Her daughter pressed her face more firmly against Paige’s neck but nodded her head.
“ChatTime?” Miles repeated. “They communicate face-to-face using the tablet?”
“Yes. It was Travis’s idea, even though I’ve tried to tell him that ChatTime isn’t the same as spending time together actually doing things.” Yet another bone of contention between them.
“Abby? Did you talk to your daddy tonight?” Miles asked.
Paige was surprised when every muscle in her daughter’s body went tense.
“Abby, honey, it’s okay,” she murmured, stroking the child’s hair, the exact same color as her own. “We’re safe now. I’m not mad at you for dropping the tablet. We can always get another one.”
Abby didn’t relax or lift her head, or indicate in any way that she’d heard either of them talking, even though Paige was certain she had.
“Abby, please say something.” Her motherly instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong with her daughter. But what?
“Are you sure she’s not hurt?” Miles asked in a concerned tone.
“I don’t know.” Paige ran her hands up and down Abby’s small body, feeling for anything abnormal.
When her daughter shook her head from side to side, she stopped. “Are you hurt?” she asked.
Another head shake.
“Are you upset about something?”
Definite head nod up and down.
“What’s wrong? Will you tell me why you’re upset?”
Another head shake no.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” Paige asked helplessly.
“She’s probably still scared from everything that’s happened,” Miles said, as if trying to reassure her. “Rather than taking you to the police station, we’ll stay at a motel for the rest of the night. Tomorrow you’ll need to give a statement. Maybe Abby will feel better by then, too.”
“Did you hear that, Abby? Detective Miles is taking us to a motel. Maybe they’ll have a swimming pool. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
No response.
Fear squeezed like a fist around her heart. Abby loved to swim. She was normally a bright, talkative little girl. In fact, her kindergarten teacher sent notes home on a weekly basis complaining about Abby being such a chatterbox.
Paige thought back to when she’d heard the tablet drop on the floor, the way her daughter had been hiding under the bed, clutching her stuffed elephant with teary eyes, moments before Paige heard the sound of gunfire.
And she knew something was terribly wrong. More than just the gunfire they’d experienced had caused such a drastic change in her daughter.
But what?
TWO
Miles kept an eye on the road behind him, making sure there wasn’t anyone following them as he drove through the night. The hour wasn’t that late, so there was more traffic than he would have liked, forcing him to make several turns, heading in a zigzag pattern to the Ravenswood Motel, a place he’d learned about a few months ago when his older brother, Marc, had hidden out there with a witness. A witness that he’d ended up marrying just a month ago.
As happy as he was for Marc, no way was he going down that same path. Serious relationships were not for him.
Pulling his thoughts back to the situation at hand, Miles tried to put the puzzle pieces of his case together. Jason’s body had been found in a Dumpster a few minutes before three o’clock in the morning, after succumbing to injuries from a gunshot wound to the chest. The only person Jason had seemed to have issues with was his boss, Travis Olson. Miles had gone to Sci-Tech first, but had been told that Travis wasn’t there. He’d gone to Olson’s condo, but he hadn’t been there, either. So he’d dug into Travis Olson’s background, finding out about his ex-wife, Paige, and their daughter, Abigail. So he’d headed over, only to find Travis’s ex caught in the middle of an ambush.
Coincidence? Not likely, although it would be nice to have ballistics prove a connection. Maybe the slugs they’d find in Paige’s house would match the type that had been used on Jason.
But why shoot at the woman and child in the first place? That was another link he couldn’t ignore.
He wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to an innocent woman and her child, so if that meant bypassing normal police procedures, then fine. Their safety had to come first.
“Miles?” Paige’s voice was soft, tentative.
“Yes?” He met her gaze in the rearview mirror.
“When do you think I’ll be able to take Abby home?”
He grimaced and shook his head. “Not anytime soon, unfortunately. Once the crime scene techs have finished gathering evidence, you can authorize the repairs to the windows, but that’s it.
You can’t return until we know who’s after you and why.”
“Don’t you think it might be a mistake? That maybe some other house was the real target?” There was a thin thread of hope in her voice, one that he didn’t like having to destroy with the blunt truth.
“No, I don’t.” He wished there was something to say to make her feel better. “How much do you know about your husband’s work at Sci-Tech?”
“Ex-husband,” she corrected tersely. “Not a lot. I know he’s involved in artificial intelligence, but he didn’t confide in me about the specifics. In fact, he always made a point to remind me that his work is highly confidential.”
Highly confidential? That’s exactly what Jason Whitfield had told him when he’d asked about what he was working on. Was it possible Sci-Tech was doing classified work for the government?
“How long have you been divorced?”
“Three years.” He caught a glimpse of her pale hand as she smoothed her palm over her daughter’s back.
“A lot can change in three years. Do you think his work is still considered highly confidential?”
She nodded, her lips pressing together in a thin line. “The last time we spoke, he said things were stressful at work because they were trying to solve a technical glitch in some sort of software that could revolutionize the artificial intelligence used to create artificial limbs and other medically necessary devices.”
Interesting. So, what had gone wrong? Why had Jason been murdered? His friend had mentioned stress at work, too, but Miles thought he was speaking about his issues with his boss, not the actual work itself. Miles needed more information on Sci-Tech, but so far all his efforts to glean more had been in vain. He’d spent hours calling around the company, asking to speak to various team leaders, only to be completely stonewalled.
So far, Travis Olson and Sci-Tech were the only two links between Jason’s murder and the gunshots at Paige’s house.
“Why do you keep asking about my ex-husband?”
He swallowed hard, trying to think of how much to tell her. “Have you heard the name Jason Whitfield?”
Paige frowned. “It sounds familiar, but I can’t be sure.”
He wasn’t surprised. Since she’d been divorced from Travis for three years, he doubted they spoke about things related to his job anymore. “He worked for your ex-husband at Sci-Tech.”
“Worked?” She’d picked up on his use of past tense. “Did he quit?”
“Jason was found shot to death early this morning. I’m a homicide detective investigating his murder.”
She sucked in a harsh breath. “And you think the same gunman came to my house looking for Travis?”
He didn’t answer right away, because she had a point. Just because Travis and Jason hadn’t gotten along didn’t mean that Olson killed his buddy. Paige could have nailed the truth that someone else was after both Jason and Travis. Either way, something strange was obviously going on.
“I’m not sure,” he answered truthfully. “I was hoping your ex-husband would be able to give me more information. How’s Abby?” he asked, changing the subject. He turned right and caught a glimpse of the sign for the Ravenswood Motel.
“Sleeping.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m worried about her, though.”
He didn’t know anything about kids, had avoided serious entanglements after watching his girlfriend, Dawn Ebbe, die of leukemia right after college. She’d suffered for a long time, dying far too young. His heart had ached for her, wishing there was more he could do to help, but she’d slipped away in her sleep, leaving him feeling sad, frustrated, angry and alone.
From that moment on, he’d decided to live his life to the fullest, the way Dawn had tried to do before she became so sick and weak she couldn’t move around on her own. His goal was to enjoy life, without getting seriously involved.
His phone rang, and he used the hands-free function to answer it. “Callahan.”
“Miles? This is Detective Lisa Krantz.”
He tried to place her in his memory. Oh, yeah, he remembered now, she was a tall blonde, with a brand-new gold shield. “Detective, what’s up?”
“There’s been a break-in at your house. The place has been tossed, as if someone was looking for something.”
“When?”
“One of the neighbors called it in about fifteen minutes ago, and there happened to be a uniform in the area. I stopped by to take a look, but I have another call so I’m heading across town now. I figured you’d want to know.”
“I do, thanks. I’ll head over there now to see for myself.” He disconnected, his thoughts whirling.
Was this break-in related to Jason’s murder? Had the killer discovered they were friends? That Jason had called Miles several times in the past few weeks?
Or was the break-in related to something else entirely?
* * *
Paige frowned when Miles executed a sharp U-turn, heading back the way they’d come. “Do you think it’s smart to go there? What if there’s a gunman waiting for you, too?”
“There are officers on the scene, and I’ll protect you. Besides, we won’t stay long.”
She didn’t like being dependent on Miles, but what other choice did she have? Being left at a motel room with Abby and no vehicle to get away if needed didn’t sound like a good option, either.
It didn’t take Miles long to pull into the driveway of a small red-brick house with black shutters and white trim. Abby curled against her, still clinging to her neck as if she’d never let go.
“Sit tight. I’ll be right back.” Miles pushed open the driver’s door as a short, stocky uniformed officer came out to meet him.
The car seemed empty without his reassuring presence. She listened as the two of them spoke.
“Fair amount of damage,” the cop said. “Everything’s a mess. It’s obvious they were looking for something.”
“Check for fingerprints, maybe we’ll get a hit,” Miles told him. “I want to take a look. Will you stay out here and keep an eye on my passengers?”
The uniformed officer nodded. “Sure. No problem.”
“Hey, Abby,” Paige said in an effort to reassure her daughter. “There’s another policeman here, do you see him?” She wanted the little girl to know they were safe, but Abby didn’t lift her head to look around.
The sick feeling crept over her again, warning her that something was seriously wrong. Paige continued talking to Abby in soft, gentle tones, telling her that the policemen would put the bad men with guns away and keep them safe.
When that didn’t work, she offered a quick prayer.
“Dear Lord, please keep us safe and help Abby feel better, Amen.”
Normally her daughter would join in to say Amen, but not this time. Paige knew she couldn’t push, that Abby would speak when she was ready.
But the continued silence bothered her. A lot.
Miles returned a few minutes later, his expression grim. He carried a small duffel bag that he tossed into the trunk.
“Call me if you get a hit from any fingerprints,” he said to the officer.
“Will do.”
He slid behind the wheel and backed out of the driveway. He didn’t speak until they were back on the highway headed to the motel.
“Do you think the officer is right? That someone was looking for something inside your home?”
“Yeah, that’s the only thing that makes sense,” he said in a clipped tone.
“Something related to your case?”
“That’s exactly what I need to figure out.” He used his hands-free function to make another phone call. “Captain?” he said when a gruff voice answered. “This is Callahan.”
“I can’t believe you left the scene of the crime!” Captain O’Dell’s tone was hoarse, as if he’d be
en yelling all day long and was losing his voice.
“I need 24/7 protection for Paige Olson and her daughter. Will you free up a couple of uniforms?”
“With our budget cuts? No way. We’re already short-handed as it is. Find a safe place to stash her, then report in, understand?”
“Yeah. Got it.”
Paige swallowed hard and tried not to let her fear show. “Thanks for trying. I’m sure we’ll be fine at the motel. I’d just—feel better if I had a car, or a way to get to safety in case something happens.” She didn’t love Travis anymore, but he was still her daughter’s father and she was worried about him, as well.
Miles let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you at the motel alone.”
He wasn’t? “But your boss, your captain said...”
“I know what he said, but I’m not abandoning you. I’ll check in with him tomorrow.”
The wave of relief caught her off guard. Since when did she trust a man? Never in the years since her divorce.
Logically, she knew this was different. Miles wasn’t interested in her on a personal level. He was just being kind. And protective.
She told herself she was glad there was only a professional courtesy between them. Sure, he was handsome with his dark brown hair, chiseled features and big, muscular physique. And yes, maybe he smelled good, too. But after spending the last three years piecing her life back together, taking on an accounting job at a firm that allowed her to work at home so she could remain independent yet support her daughter, she finally felt as if she had her life back on track.
No way was she willing to risk changing anything now.
* * *
“Number twelve is our room.” Miles wasn’t happy that there hadn’t been connecting rooms available, but at least this one had two double beds.
Paige pursed her lips, but didn’t argue. “Okay.”
He parked the car in front of their Ravenswood Motel room and shut off the engine. “Do you need help with Abby?”
“No, I have her.” He came around to open her passenger-side door, grimacing at the bullet hole he found in the back fender. Any closer and the gunman might have taken out a tire, making escape impossible.