Called to Protect

by Lynette Eason

  “Then?” Chloe asked.

  Deep breath. Her eyes slid to the stairs where her husband had vanished moments before. “Then, she started selling his sister.”

  Chloe swallowed a gasp. She’d seen a lot in her years in law enforcement. The fact that she could still be shocked surprised her. “How old was he when he figured this out?”

  “Close to three years ago.”

  “What?” Linc blurted.

  “But how?”

  “Vicky committed suicide and left a note detailing everything. Including the fact that she’d only cooperated with their mother because if she didn’t, she’d sell Ben instead. So Vicky cooperated. Three years ago, Vicky didn’t show up for dinner one night and her phone kept going to voicemail. Ben went over to her house and found her. She’d swallowed a bottle of pills. The note was on the end table beside her.”

  “How horrible,” Chloe whispered.

  “It’s changed everything around here. Changed him, changed us.” She shook her head. “He won’t talk about it. To anyone. Even now, three years later.”

  Linc sighed. “Where’s his mother now?”

  “I don’t know. Probably shacked up with her latest. Ben hasn’t talked to her in years. She didn’t even come to Vicky’s funeral.” Lucy cleared her throat. “But it sparked something in him. Once he recovered from his shock and grief, he decided to do something about the human trafficking business around here. Not just in South Carolina, but nationwide. Every time he had a trafficking case come into his courtroom, he would come home depressed—and more determined than ever. Seeing the scumbags get a slap on the wrist for selling someone into slavery or the sex trade fired him up. Seeing the victims, those who were able to, gather their courage and put aside their trauma to come testify in court would stay with him for weeks. Their stories broke his heart. Because every one of them was his sister. And every time he put a guilty person away, he was getting justice for Vicky.”

  “Wow,” Chloe said.

  Linc nodded. “It certainly explains the motivation behind his passion, but not the who behind the threats.”

  “I don’t know. He’s a good husband and good father. His past haunts his dreams sometimes, but he never let that bleed over into our family. And he was always determined that our kids understand that exploiting others was wrong. That money wasn’t to be gained by using others. We raised our kids to work for everything and not expect handouts just because we could give it to them. As a result, they both worked and put themselves through college and have good jobs, doing their best to give back to those less fortunate.”

  “Mom? Dad?”

  Lucy’s brows rose. “That’s Paula.” She stood and went into the den. Chloe and Hank followed her.

  Lucy hugged her daughter. “Honey, what are you doing here? I thought you’d be in court?”

  “We’re recessed right now. The defense attorney had some kind of medical issue. We reconvene in two hours. I wanted to come by and check on Dad. I . . . said some pretty harsh things to him and want to apologize.”

  “No wonder he’s been in such a bad mood.”

  Paula grimaced. “Yeah.”

  “Have you seen your brother lately? He’s being evasive and not answering my calls.”

  “I talked to him earlier. He said he was coming by to see Dad too. That he was worried about him.”

  “Good. I’ll talk to him when he stops in.”

  “Miles sends his love as well.”

  “Does he plan to join us tonight for dinner?”

  “We’ll see. He’s meeting a client who’s interested in the new drug that’s being marketed for dementia.”

  “Does it really work?”

  “Miles says it does. If he didn’t think it was worth it, he wouldn’t bother.”

  “Good to know they’re making progress in treating that horrible disease.” She sighed and waved a hand toward the back of the house. “Now, go see your father. He’s in the bedroom.”

  Paula turned and noticed Chloe and Hank for the first time. “Oh. Hi.”

  “Hello.”

  “I’m just here to see my dad.” Her gaze landed on the file folders spread across the table. “What’s going on?”

  “Just looking for someone who would have a reason to want your father dead.”

  “I thought it was because of his stance on human trafficking.”

  “It is, but we need a name to put to the person behind the threats. Someone willing to kill to make sure your dad is silenced. Someone who has a lot at stake.”

  “I see. Of course.”

  “Can you think of anyone like that?”

  Paula shook her head, but pulled file after file from the stack to glance through it. Chloe raised a brow at Blake, who nodded at the folder.

  “Any of those ring any bells for you?” he said.

  “No. I don’t think so.” Paula frowned. Studied one of the files a little closer, then set it aside to pick up the next. “It’s like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.”

  “No kidding,” Blake said.

  With a deep breath, she set the file she was holding back on the table. “I’m procrastinating. It’s time to face the music.”

  “Good luck,” her mother said.

  Paula grimaced and headed down the hall toward the master bedroom.

  Lucy shook her head. “She’s always had a bad temper. And then she regrets it and has to apologize. Sometimes I wonder if my future son-in-law isn’t slated for sainthood.”

  Chloe smiled. “I understand. I know a few people like that myself.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Linc waved her back into the kitchen even as he spoke into the phone. She walked toward him. “What is it?”

  “Annie called. She and David got a hit on Ethan Wright’s whereabouts.”

  “Where?” Blake asked.

  “Not too far from here. Looks like he moved into his aunt’s house after his apartment building was scheduled for demolition. He’s still using his old address, which was why it was so hard to track him down. Yesterday, he applied for a credit card with this current address and we got an alert. I’ve got a team meeting me there. We still don’t know what his role is in everything, so we’re just going to question him. But because we don’t know his role, I want backup in place.” He looked at Chloe. “Bring Hank.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want him there. We have the video showing Rachel getting into the back of his vehicle. She was following him for a reason. I want to take every precaution to ensure he doesn’t get away from us.”

  “All right.”

  Blake rose. “I want to come too. Just let me find someone to cover for me here.”

  “It’s already been taken care of. Parker and Justin are on the way.” Linc scowled. “And I only took care of that because I knew you’d insist on it.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Linc grunted his acknowledgment of the gratitude. “All right. Things are moving fast. As soon as we know the judge is covered, we’ll head out.”

  Blake’s heart pounded. He could only pray that Wright could give them a clue as to why Rachel would have been in the back of his car. Why she’d followed him.

  The guy had no priors. That reassured Blake somewhat. But that didn’t let him off the hook. Everyone’s life of crime started with the first one and sometimes they weren’t caught until the tenth—or more. And Rachel had chosen to follow him for some reason.

  Blake sat in the passenger seat of Chloe’s SUV. She’d parked it across the street from the house but down about three doors where they had a good view of the front door and the side. A team of agents and other law enforcement stood ready to move in should they need to, but for now everything remained quiet.

  Linc approached the house and knocked on the door. If Wright was home and looked out the window, he’d see a man dressed in khakis and a dark blue collared shirt. Linc would identify himself as FBI when Wright opened the door.

  Only no one answered.<
br />
  Linc knocked again.

  Still nothing.

  Chloe chewed her bottom lip.

  “What is it?” Blake asked her.

  “I don’t know. It’s almost too quiet.”

  He glanced around. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “Bryce would have told Wright that two cops came to the museum asking about him, right?”

  “Probably.” He paused. “Unless he didn’t.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re a big help. So, let’s say he told him for the sake of argument. If Wright’s guilty of something, he’s going to wonder if we’ve found anything. And if he’s not guilty, he should wonder what we wanted. The fact that he hasn’t called makes my skin itch.”

  Blake raised a brow. “But you’re assuming Bryce told him about our visit.”

  “True.” She paused. “But why would he not tell him? He has to know we’ll be back if we don’t hear from Wright.”

  “Having two cops show up could rattle anyone. Maybe he doesn’t want to rock the boat. Maybe he’s worried his client is in trouble with the police and he’s got that auction coming up. If his most sought-after artist gets arrested, where’s that going to leave his precious auction?”

  “In which case, he’d probably tell him to lay low until after the auction.”

  “I keep coming back to that.”

  “What?”

  “The auction. Rachel mentioned the girls being sold at an auction. I think we should check into the possibility that there’s a connection between that auction and the art auction.”

  “We can discuss that in more detail after we deal with this.”

  “Fine.”

  Linc had walked the perimeter of the house by this point and was now making his way back toward them. He stopped at Chloe’s window and she rolled it down. “He’s not here,” Linc said. “Or, at least he’s not answering the door. All the blinds are shut. There’s an outbuilding in the back, but just looks like storage.”

  Chloe frowned. “The Suburban’s in the drive.”

  “Might not mean much,” Linc said. “Someone could have picked him up.”

  “Could have,” she said.

  Linc raised a brow. “But?”

  But for some reason, she didn’t think so. “You know, we were looking for him the other day. It’s possible someone might be upset about that. You think Wright might be in some kind of danger?”

  Her brother paused, studied her. Then gave a slow nod. “I think it’s possible. If he’s involved in the trafficking business and someone found out you two were asking around about him, then yeah, I’d say it’s a real possibility. I might even say there are exigent circumstances warranting an immediate search of the property to ensure the safety of the occupant.”

  With exigent circumstances, they wouldn’t need a warrant to search. This might be stretching it a bit, but then again, there was no way to know for sure. “Great. Let’s take a look and make sure Mr. Wright isn’t in any immediate danger.”

  She climbed out of the SUV, slipped on a heavier coat to ward off the chill, and let Hank out of his area. She clipped the lead on his harness and walked toward the house. If the man had anything to do with the drugs being moved in the trailer where they’d found the girls, it’s possible there would be traces of it on the property. She tucked the rope toy into her belt. But first, she really was rather concerned for the man. Linc’s assessment could be spot-on. They needed to check on Ethan.

  And find out why he hadn’t called them. She, Hank, Blake, and Linc walked the perimeter of the home. Linc was on his phone getting background on the aunt.

  “I don’t see any sign of trouble, do you guys?” Blake asked.

  “No, but . . .” Chloe shook her head. “He called in sick yesterday, but he’s not at home. That’s a red flag.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s played hooky.”

  “True.” But . . . “Hank, find the dope.”

  The dog went to work. She shortened the lead to about fifteen feet and let him have his way. Hank led her to the corner of the house, then around to the back and up on the deck. Hank took her back down the steps and across the yard to the outbuilding. He nosed the door, then sat. Chloe glanced through the only clean spot on the window and couldn’t see much. She turned the knob and heard a slight snick that didn’t sound anything like a simple door opening. She knew that sound. Or a similar sound. It could be nothing. Or it could be something big.

  She froze. Her heart rate picked up and she blew out a slow breath while keeping the knob in the turned position. “Guys?”

  Chloe turned her head slowly and spotted Linc walking toward her. She lifted the hand that held Hank’s leash. “Stay back.” He frowned and jogged toward her, followed by Blake. She scowled. “You don’t listen very well, do you?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There might be drugs inside the building. Hank says so anyway. But we’ll have to do something about the bomb first. Now get back and call the bomb squad, would you?”

  Her brother stilled and Blake jerked. “What?” he said.

  She tilted her head toward her hand. “Something clicked when I turned the knob. I’m assuming it’s rigged to blow when I either open the door or release the knob.”

  All color drained from his face. “You’re sure? It wasn’t just the release of the plunger?”

  “I guess I could let go and find out.”

  Linc shot her a black look.

  Blake was on the phone. She heard the words “bomb squad,” then the address.

  “Switch places with me,” Linc said. “Let me have the knob.”

  “No way. Now back off and let the bomb squad come do their job.”

  “Chloe, I’m not kidding—”

  “I’m not either. What if the only reason it didn’t blow is because I have the right amount of pressure on the knob? If we try to change places, you could change that dynamic and blow us all up.” Truthfully, she had no idea if that argument carried any weight at all, but it sounded good and might get him out of the way.

  He winced, but didn’t argue. He didn’t move back either. Neither did Blake. She handed the leash to Blake. “Will you put Hank in his area in the truck?”

  Blake took the leash, hesitated only a brief moment, then nodded. “Fine, but I’m coming back.”

  When he left, she looked at Linc. “Ethan Wright is former Army. What’d he do in the Army?”

  “Not explosives, if that’s what you’re wondering. At least that wasn’t in the file. He was a first lieutenant. Saw some action in Afghanistan, but was honorably discharged after being wounded by a roadside IED. Came back to the States and took up teaching and art.”

  All innocent enough. So, why rig his outbuilding to blow? It was locked. The knob turned easily, but there were two deadbolts that she could see were engaged.

  The bomb squad chose that moment to roll to a stop just beyond the front of the house. Chloe’s hand began to cramp and she clamped her lips together until the spasm passed.

  Two bomb squad team members clad in their protective gear descended the sloping yard. One led an explosive ordnance detection K-9 who had his nose to the ground when they reached her. The handler looked at Chloe. “I’m Brad and this is K-9 Lulu. My friend there is Mitch.”

  Chloe nodded. She didn’t recognize either of these guys and figured they were probably new. She hoped they weren’t new when it came to explosives.

  Mitch motioned for Blake and Linc to get out of the way. Linc grasped her free hand. “Don’t let go of that knob until they give you the all clear.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  Blake eyed her as well. She saw him swallow. “Go. Now,” she said. “Both of you, get out of here.” Neither man moved. “Please, Blake, Linc.”

  Blake shook his head. “I’m not leaving you.”

  Linc planted himself off to the side and crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving you either. Mom would kill me.”

  “Get out o
f here, guys,” Brad said. “This is our scene and you’re not welcome on it.”

  “Not leaving,” Blake said.

  “Me neither,” Linc said.

  “I don’t have time to argue, but you guys are in serious trouble when this is over.”

  “As long as you make sure we live to face the trouble,” Linc said, “I’m fine with that.”

  Brad snorted.

  Tears gathered in Chloe’s eyes as the two bomb squad members went to work. She was grateful for their support and furious at their stubbornness. “There’s no reason for us all to be in danger. You guys need to move. Please.” She honed in on Blake. “Rachel needs you around.”

  He flinched. “It’s okay. It’s not going to blow.”

  Brad’s EOD dog alerted immediately on the door and Chloe let out a slow breath. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”

  “How much longer can you hold that knob?” Brad asked.

  “As long as I have to.” When she’d gripped the knob, she’d grabbed it with a tight hold, using muscles all the way up in to her forearm. Afraid to loosen her grip to give those muscles some relief, she simply endured.

  She couldn’t see Mitch’s face through his mask, but she could imagine him frowning. “We need to see inside the building,” he said, “but we’ve got to be careful how we do it.” He pointed to the bottom of the door. “I’d try running a tiny camera under there, but it’s flush to the ground and no way it would fit.”

  Chloe could read between the lines. He needed eyes in the building to make sure there weren’t any other explosives rigged to blow if someone opened a window or drilled their way in. For the next few minutes, they worked on a way to get inside. Chloe alternated between praying and not letting the cramp in her hand get the best of her.

  Mitch came back around. “We’re going through the roof. There’s a skylight we can get around and there’s no sign of explosives attached to it. So hold tight.”

  “I’m holding.” Tight. These guys were trusting her with their lives. There was no way she was going to blow them up. No matter how bad the cramp in her hand got. The only problem was her fingers were starting to go numb. Who would have thought holding a doorknob could turn into an act of sheer will?