His To Protect

by Patricia Werner

  At least she could breathe easier, for tourists thronged this place.

  “Want something to eat?” she asked Jennifer.

  “Sure. Can I have a fish sandwich?”

  “You can if they make them here. We’ll ask.”

  She ordered lunch for the two of them at the counter and then slid into a booth while they waited for their food. Tracy’s heart still raced, and her adrenaline pumped. But if the men barged in here and tried to grab Jennifer, she’d be able to make such a racket she doubted the bystanders would let them get away with anything.

  She thought about calling the local police, but she knew dam well that police could do nothing unless a crime had been committed. They would not ask suspicious-looking men to move along. Anyone had a right to loiter on the sidewalk. It was what tourists did.

  As they munched on their sandwiches, she tried to plan her next move. An idea struck her. She didn’t want to hire a taxi to take them back to the cabin. All that would accomplish would be to lead their pursuers to their hideout. But she could take a taxi to some other public place. A place that was well staffed and could offer assistance if she needed it. A place where Jennifer could rest if she needed to, and where Matt could find her if she got word to Rene to let him know her whereabouts. She couldn’t call him directly on the cell phone. The frequency would be too easily monitored. After they finished their fish sandwiches, she found the phone and ordered a taxi.

  When the local taxi pulled up in front of the sandwich shop, she tried to use the crowds to conceal them getting in. She saw the man, now carrying his purple-and-silver jacket, turn from the storefront he’d been gazing at, just as she shut her door.

  “The Stanley Hotel,” she told the driver. “Take Spruce to Bighorn Drive and then Wonderview Avenue.” That way, they’d avoid turning around and going through downtown again.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She tried to conceal herself in the shadows of the cab, but as the driver pulled away from the curb, she saw the gold-toothed cowboy standing at the top of the steps by the water wheel. She couldn’t know if he’d seen the cab. Only when the cab left the main street and climbed up the side streets did Tracy look back. They left the shopping district behind and wound past cottages and summer homes above the village. A grand view of the stunning valley unfolded before them.

  The historic Stanley perched on a scenic rise. But as the cab pulled into the circle in front of the hotel’s wide verandah, Tracy looked at Jennifer. Her face looked almost as white as the glistening hotel.

  “Are you all right, Jenn?” she asked.

  “I feel tired,” said Jennifer.

  Tracy handed the driver the money and then helped Jennifer out. As soon as they had climbed the steps to the porch, Jennifer crawled up onto a wicker settee. Tracy’s heart raced, and she dug into her bag for the bronchodilator. She recognized the early-warning symptoms and needed to take action before they became worse.

  Jennifer coughed and Tracy’s heart clenched. But she retrieved the inhaler as fast as her hands would work, shaking it to mix the medication.

  “Ready?” she asked Jennifer.

  Jennifer nodded, wiping her nose with the tissue Tracy handed her. Then Jennifer tilted her head back and opened her mouth, holding the inhaler the way she’d been taught. Tracy steadied the apparatus as Jennifer breathed out and then began her slow, deep breath as Tracy pressed the inhaler to deliver the mist.

  “One, two, three, four, five,” Tracy counted off the seconds. “Hold in now.”

  Jennifer held her breath for another ten seconds, allowing the medication to settle in the airways.

  “Okay,” said Tracy when it was all right for Jennifer to resume normal breathing. She waited to see if another puff might be required, but Jennifer’s color returned, and her breathing seemed normal.

  Tracy patted Jennifer’s knees. “Just rest awhile, honey.”

  She packed away the inhaler and then took a seat beside Jennifer on the settee. Her pulse still pounded, and with Jennifer out of danger, she concentrated on the people in the surroundings. Tourists with cameras emerged from the hotel and walked to cars in the parking lot. Bellboys hoisted luggage up the steps. If the two suspicious men knew where she’d gone, they weren’t visible.

  “I’m sleepy,” said Jennifer. She leaned against Tracy, who wrapped an arm around her.

  “You need a nap,” she said, frantically wondering how to accomplish that.

  They sat for a few more moments on the settee, and then Tracy roused Jennifer. It should be time for Matt to be returning. If he didn’t find them in town, he’d go to the cabin. If they weren’t being followed any longer, it might be best to try to get back to the cabin, where Jennifer could lie down and Matt would find them.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said. “I’ll find a place you can rest.”

  Early in the century, the Stanley had rivaled European mountain resorts. Recent renovations had included original 1909 furnishings. Tracy and Jennifer walked down a long hallway off the lobby and turned into an alcove, where Jennifer climbed up on a comfortable love seat to stretch out.

  While Jennifer shut her eyes, Tracy gazed out the mullioned window. Driveways left the hotel from behind adjacent buildings. She studied the town map she had with her and ascertained the way they’d have to go. It was too far to ask Jennifer to walk. Sitting still in the quiet, old hotel, she waited a quarter of an hour to make sure no one lurked around a corner or watched them from a staircase.

  Then she roused Jennifer and they took a back staircase, walking along the path to an outbuilding that had been made into the concert hall. Slipping into a side door, she sighed with relief when she spotted a telephone. While Jennifer went to look at the old photographs on the wall, Tracy called Rene.

  “Rene, it’s Tracy. Have you heard from Matt?”

  “He just called. Are you all right?” Rene’s voice conveyed her concern.

  “We’re fine. But I think we were followed in the village.”

  “Matt’s on his way back to the cabin. Sounds like things didn’t go too well at the chief’s house.”

  Tracy felt a clench of anxiety at her words. Was it all going to end here in Estes Park? She fought the swell of panic as she envisioned their enemies closing in on them. If only Matt had had time to drop that tape off to someone who could help them. But she didn’t dare ask too many questions over the phone.

  “All right,” said Tracy. “I’ve got to get Jennifer into bed for a nap. I’ll see Matt when he gets to the cabin then.”

  “He should be there soon. He left town an hour ago.”

  “Thanks.”

  Her decision made, she peered out the door at a parking lot behind the hotel. A woman emerged from what appeared to be the kitchens and waved as a man drove up in a beat-up Buick and stopped. It gave Tracy an idea. She darted down the steps to the parking lot.

  “Excuse me,” she called out, sprinting across to them. “My little girl is ill. Could you give us a ride to our cabin?”

  The couple responded in Spanish, and Tracy was afraid she wouldn’t be able to communicate her need. But apparently the couple was just discussing her plight between themselves, for the man turned to her and said.

  “Of course. Where is your daughter?”

  “Wait here. I’ll bring her.”

  She darted back to where Jennifer waited and told her they were getting a ride home. Then she slowed her pace so Jennifer wouldn’t have to race across the parking lot. With every agonizing step, Tracy wondered about the wisdom of leaving the well-populated Stanley for the isolated cabin. But the urgency of talking to Matt drove her forward.

  Jennifer smiled and charmed the couple, and the woman entertained her in the back seat while Tracy gave directions from the front seat. When they reached the cabin, Tracy offered to pay, but the man refused.

  “I hope your little girl is better,” he said.

  The black-haired woman smiled and waved as they drove off.

  SEEIN
G MCALLISTER at Bartola’s had left a bad taste in Matt’s mouth. He had waited a long time to make sure there was no one about to follow him and then took the opposite direction. He wound over the mountain before descending into Boulder and through heavy traffic to Denver. Before he reached the city, he phoned Percy Ferrens, who agreed to meet him at a fast-food restaurant to pick up the tape. That way Matt could hightail it back to Estes Park faster, and no one would see him near the lab—something he needed to avoid, since he’d been officially warned away.

  He pressed along the highway, keeping his eye on the rearview mirror. Once he thought he spotted a white Mercedes that stayed behind him too long, but when he passed through Boulder again, he lost it. Then he sped along the road, making it back to Estes Park in record time. It was late afternoon. A call to Rene informed him that Tracy was back at the cabin.

  He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath as the Blazer scrabbled up the rocky driveway. But when he saw her crack open the door at the sound of his approach, the air rushed out of his lungs and he stepped inside, clasping her to his chest. He felt her trembling and buried his face in her hair.

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  “Actually, I don’t think so.” He didn’t like the worried sound of her voice.

  She set out some dinner she’d prepared. “I found spaghetti and sauce in the cupboard,” she said. “Jennifer and I already ate. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “Famished,” he replied, sliding a chair out and taking a seat at the painted table near the small kitchen area. “Tell me what happened.”

  As Tracy served the food, she related her story.

  “You weren’t followed back here?”

  She shook her head, her tousled hair rippling around her worried face. He wanted to kiss the worries away, but he knew they had to be more practical than that. He didn’t recognize the men she’d described, but their pursuers could hire thugs to do their dirty work.

  “It’s McAllister, all right,” he said after swallowing enough food to sustain him. “He was just leaving Bartola’s when I approached.”

  Her eyes widened. “Did he see you?”

  Matt shook his head. “No. But it’s possible that Bartola will tell him I was there.”

  “But just seeing McAllister at the chiefs house doesn’t prove anything,” she said.

  “No, but the voice giving him orders to take care of us proves he was into something nasty. I have a hunch that Scott must have witnessed McAllister taking payoffs at the bowling alley or at the liquor store. That’s why he made those notations in his appointment diary.”

  He got up from the table and pulled a folded section of newspaper from the jacket he’d tossed on the sofa. Tracy spread it out and looked at it, then lifted curious brown eyes to his.

  “It’s from Wednesday. The day of the bank robbery,” she said.

  He sat down again. “Look on page two. What do you see?”

  She furrowed her brows and turned to the page. When she looked up again, understanding filled her eyes. “The same day Jax Schaffer escaped from the police van. Do you think there’s a connection?”

  He nodded slowly. “The attempted bank robbery went bad. McAllister delayed the hostage takers long enough for SWAT to get there. Most of our squad was engaged in that call-out. Only a couple of our guys were off that day. Schaffer’s accomplices spring him, SWAT is busy, so only local cops give chase. Schaffer gets away.”

  Matt glared at Tracy. “Sound familiar?”

  He saw her sway and grip the table for support. But her gaze was steady. “That voice. You think it’s Schaffer?”

  “The voice print will tell us. The tape is safe in Percy’s hands. They have tapes of Schaffer being interrogated, so we’ll know soon enough if it’s a match.”

  She nodded slowly. “So you think McAllister is taking orders from Schaffer?”

  “Makes sense, doesn’t it?” He told Tracy what he had thought about after listening to the taped conversation. That McAllister could easily have found out ahead of time when the high-risk warrant was going to be served, keeping SWAT busy. He could have let his boss, Schaffer, know.

  “Schaffer could have set the wheels in motion for the Crestmoor State Bank robbery,” Matt said grimly. “Scott responded without backup. McAllister couldn’t have planned that Scott would be there, but he used the opportunity to get him out of the way. If he knew Scott was snooping, McAllister had to get rid of him somehow. This way, he could make it look like an accident. It all fits together nicely. McAllister was a dirty cop receiving payoffs for Jax Schaffer’s crimes. When Scott got too close, he was eliminated.”

  “And now they want to eliminate us.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  “How? You can’t even be sure of the division chief.”

  “Then we’ll go above his head. Udal’s on my side. He’ll support me.”

  She shook her head, reached across and squeezed his arm. “How can he when you’ve broken every rule in the book?”

  Gazing at her and feeling the pull toward her with every fiber in his body, he knew why. Because it was worth everything to nail her husband’s killer any way he could. For his buddy, gone beyond this life now, for his sense of right and wrong and for the beautiful woman sitting across from him who needed him so desperately. At least he hoped she needed him. Last night’s act of passion had sealed the unspoken bond between them. But he wasn’t so foolish as not to know that a lot was yet undecided.

  “One step at a time,” he murmured, taking her hands and lifting them to his lips to kiss them.

  Instead of tossing Tracy across the bed the way his body was urging him to do, he checked the listening post while Tracy cleaned the dishes. He replayed the tape that had been activated every time McAllister had had a call, but there were no more incriminating calls. An hour later, he risked a phone call to Percy Ferrens, using the code they had set up so that neither of them had to risk using his name.

  “Maroon Bells here,” said Matt. “What did you find out?”

  “Bingo, Maroon Bells. We have a match.”

  Matt’s skin prickled. Percy had been able to get access to Schaffer’s interrogation tape. He knew better than to mention his name, but gave Matt the information he needed.

  “Good. Keep those tapes under lock and key. I’m coming down tonight. By tomorrow morning, internal investigations will have to reopen the case.”

  “No problem. I’ve made copies for safekeeping.”

  As evening shadows claimed this side of the mountain, they left the lights out at the cabin. Tracy rested with Jennifer in the bedroom, making up a fairy tale. Matt listened wistfully to their voices. He knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted to make them his family. But it wasn’t the right time to ask.

  The sound of an approaching helicopter was still distant when Matt first became aware of it. But it only took a few seconds to send his heart spiraling in his chest. He snatched his load-bearing vest, which carried his handgun and extra ammunition. He put it on and slung his M-16 across his back as he appeared in the bedroom door.

  “We’ve got to get out of here now,” he said. “We need to get clear away from the cabin toward the trees.”

  His eyes lifted to the ceiling as he tried to assess the exact direction the helicopter was coming from.

  Tracy sprang up, and Matt lifted Jennifer off the bed. “Run.”

  “Hang on to Matt, honey,” Tracy instructed Jennifer, then she sprinted toward the door. She grabbed the bag with Jennifer’s medical supplies, and only glanced at Matt once before flinging open the front door and dashing across the porch.

  The pounding of helicopter blades burst over the top of the ridge as the three of them reached the trees fifty yards away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As soon as they were under cover, Matt set Jennifer down, and Tracy grasped her hand. Matt pointed to some boulders farther up the slope, still covered by trees. She could barely see them in the near darkness.


  “Up there,” he shouted. “Get up there behind cover. If they open fire, get as far away as you can.”

  Tracy’s instinct took over, and she tugged Jennifer up the hill, her eyes surprisingly accustomed to the summer night from being in the shadowy cabin.

  “Hurry, Jenn,” she cried as they negotiated the pine needles and rocks under the roof of boughs overhead.

  She was out of breath when they reached the rocks and terrified of what else might lurk in the woods. She pulled Jennifer into her arms behind the rocks, but peered over, searching for Matt, who had taken cover a little below them behind the trees. She covered Jennifer’s ears with her hands as the helicopter circled the slope. She couldn’t believe their pursuers had chosen such an overt method to track them down.

  Matt held his assault rifle at eye level, covering the helicopter’s descent. Tracy held her breath, clinging to a shred of hope that this was all some mistake. She could just barely see the silhouette of a man leaning out the open side of the chopper against a sky that still held summer light. But when a projectile shattered the cabin windows, the explosion sent her heart bursting through her ears.

  Matt crouched, moving up the hill toward them. “Run,” he ordered. “Keep to the trees.”

  She didn’t need to be told twice. Her heart pounded in terror, the more so for Jennifer. “Can you run?” she screamed over the noise.

  Jennifer nodded, but already Tracy could see her fright in the girl’s eyes. If Jennifer should have a serious attack now, they were without help. Frightened for their lives, she gripped Jennifer’s hand and helped her climb higher, deeper into the trees, clutching the bag full of medications.

  Behind them another explosion made her turn. The gunman from the helicopter was firing into the shattered side window. How long before they realized no one was firing back?

  Below her, Matt moved from tree to tree, covering their position. She prayed no one would discover them and they could get away. The road twisted around this ridge. If they could make it to the top and down the other side, they might have a chance.