Protecting the Single Mom

by Catherine Lanigan

  Did he think of what Christmas would be like if he spent it with a little boy who adored him and a woman who’d come to love him?

  Did he believe in Christmas miracles?

  Cate knew she did. She expected miracles.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE BULLET PIERCED the window, spiderwebbed the antique glass and entered the wall three and half feet from Trent’s head. Only half-asleep, his adrenaline and training slammed him into high alert. He rolled off the sofa, pulling his gun off the ridiculously tiny table he’d moved closer to the sofa, where he’d also placed his cell phone in case Cate needed him.

  He crawled to the window just as a second bullet pierced the window at the far end of the room and penetrated the plaster wall. Trent peered down Maple Boulevard.

  “Drive-by,” he grumbled as he grabbed his cell and dashed through the door to the hallway, unlocked the front door and raced down the steps and out to the street. The motion lights went on. He knew the cameras were rolling. Maybe they got a shot of the car. He saw enough of the taillights to know the vehicle was a dark sedan. He would bet it was Le Grande. Or one of his minions.

  Trent lowered his gun and looked at the house. He’d heard three shots. Two he’d seen—at a distance that was much too close for comfort. He couldn’t see where the third had gone.

  He punched in the station number on his cell and got Ned. He reported the shooting and asked for Forensics to come by...

  Ned told him he’d call back with an ETA.

  Trent looked upstairs. Cate’s bedroom light illuminated. “Cate!” That third bullet. His heart sank and his breath froze in his lungs. If she’d been shot—If anything happened to her, to Danny—

  Trent’s only family was his mother, but at this moment, the love he felt for Cate and Danny overtook him like a tidal wave. Black thoughts swept through his head.

  If these goons injured Cate or Danny...

  He raced into the house and took the back stairs to her apartment two at a time. When he got to the door, he tapped lightly, not wanting to wake Danny if he was asleep.

  Anxious and breathing rapidly from the exertion, he tried the door. It was locked. The one time he wished she wasn’t so careful. He knocked again. “Cate. Are you okay?” he said loud enough to be heard—if she was conscious. Not bleeding on the floor...

  He heard footsteps. Soft and muted. She was wearing slippers, he thought.

  Cate flung open the door. “Trent, what’s going on? I heard something that...was it gunshots?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay?” She scanned him head to toe, her eyes lingering on his chest; then traveled up to his face—hypnotizing him. She was all right. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her there next to his heart—forever.

  “Trent?”

  “Huh?” He glanced down and realized he was wearing only a T-shirt, sweatpants and he was barefoot. He’d gone outside in the snow barefoot and hadn’t noticed.

  “Is Danny awake?” he asked.

  “He slept through it. What’s going on?”

  He reached for her hand. “Come downstairs. Let’s talk in the kitchen. I don’t want him to hear.”

  In the kitchen, Trent sat on a stool at the island. Cate stood. He put a hand on her shoulder and then let it run the length of her arm. Then back up. For some reason he needed to touch her.

  “Cate, the police are going to be here in a few minutes. I believe Le Grande or one of his men shot up the house just now.”

  “They shot at the house?” she asked incredulously. Her hands flew to her mouth as if to take the words back and somehow make the nightmare vanish. She stared at him.

  “It’s happening. He’s come for me.”

  “I believe so.”

  She started shaking and sank onto the stool opposite him. “Cate, I know this has been your fear, but I think it’s more than that. He knows the cops have fifty grand of his money. Not to mention the fact that we have even more of his heroin. We’ve put a real chink in his business. That’s a lot of incentive.”

  She shook her head. “Did he really try to shoot me?”

  “No. The shots were random. A drive-by. Gangs use them for intimidation. They want you, er, us, to be afraid.”

  Her eyes bore into his like searing irons. He flinched, nearly feeling a sharp pain. “Well, it worked,” she said. “I’m terrified. I want to go somewhere safer.”

  He understood her feelings perfectly. In her position, he’d want the same thing. But if she left now, he might lose the edge on Le Grande that he’d spent all these weeks building. Trent believed that Le Grande shot up the house not only to scare Cate, but also to give Trent a warning. True, Le Grande probably didn’t know where Trent was sleeping—exactly. But Le Grande’s men would have told him that Trent was hanging around Mrs. Beabots’s house. Trent would never forgive himself if any harm came to Cate or Danny. Ever. At the same time, he was as certain as he could be that Le Grande was falling for their sting operation.

  This drive-by was a tip-off that Le Grande was getting desperate. Le Grande was planning something, but Trent didn’t know what. He might be trying to make a grab for Cate.

  Trent had a choice. Cate wanted to leave and she should. It was her right and duty to protect her son.

  Or he could talk her into staying and helping him. She’d been willing before, but bullets raised the stakes.

  “Cate. You’re right. I should get you out of here,” Trent said, taking her hand.

  Just then, he heard the door to the stairwell creak open. Danny stood in his pajamas, robe and slippers, wide awake.

  “How long have you been standing there?”

  “I just got here,” he said sheepishly. Then as he moved toward them, his voice grew stronger. “You just said you wanted to go away. Mom, we can’t do that. Monday is my pageant.” He put a hand first on Cate’s knee, then on Trent’s. He raised pleading eyes to them one by one. “The kids are counting on me. Especially Annie. She rehearsed with me. I know all my lines.” His voice cracked in the heartbreaking way of a child facing broken promises.

  “Oh, Danny.” Cate pulled him into her arms.

  Trent watched them, remembering the night when Le Grande had invaded their backyard. They’d been terrified, and Trent had been their savior. He’d held them both, and it had been like coming home. He knew that now. He cared deeply about them. Loved them. He couldn’t believe what he was feeling was make-believe. He had to protect them—somehow. Some way.

  “Okay. Here’s how it will go. You’ll have your play and be the star you know you are. I’ll be there, and I’ll have my entire team there. Undercover, but present. But right after the play, I’ll have things set up so that we can leave town.” This time he looked directly at Cate. “I can’t risk either of you any longer.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and reached for his hand.

  When she squeezed his fingers, he felt the warmth all the way to his soul.

  * * *

  “NO-GO ON MY detectives sitting at some kid’s play. Not with what we know now,” Chief Stan Williams said to Trent.

  “What do we know?”

  “Here,” he said, handing Trent a printout of an email from the Chicago Bureau of Organized Crime.

  “This is from their chief.” Trent read the lengthy email. “They believe Le Grande has fallen for my trap. He’s wants to sell a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of heroin. Intel expects them to set this up anytime. Le Grande will name the place and time. You can bet it won’t be in the warehouse district like the last one.”

  “No. It won’t.” Chief Williams pointed to the door. “Targeting the location is your job.”

  “Yes, sir.” Trent rose and left the chief’s office.

  * * *

  CATE HELPED DANNY slip
his arms through the shoulder braces that hooked to the angel wings she and Mrs. Beabots had made. The white tunic he wore was edged in gold-and-white braid that Mrs. Beabots pulled out of a drawer filled with what looked like forty-year-old beaded belts, corded braids and tassels. She’d told Cate they were remnants from her days in Paris. Cate had turned over one of the gorgeous braids and found a tag that read: Coco Chanel 31 Rue Cambon. Cate didn’t know much about designers, but she believed she was looking at the genuine article.

  Someone had been more than an angel to Cate and Danny. That someone was named Mrs. Beabots.

  “How do I look, Mom?”

  Cate assessed him and tried to be objective. “The cutest angel I’ve ever seen.”

  “Aw, Mom. Couldn’t you just say I was handsome?” Danny looked over her shoulder just as Annie walked up.

  Annie was dressed in a white tunic with a swirl of sky-blue fabric wound around her head and tied at her waist. She had a gold rope and tassel at her waist. Annie, with her riotous red hair and blue eyes, looked beautiful. Cate glanced at Danny. He was beaming at Annie.

  No wonder he’d insisted they not leave until after the play. This was more than just a role. Cate stood and put her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Is your mom here, sweetie?”

  “Yes. And my dad, too. He’s helping Timmy with his costume. They changed it up a bit this year. They added a shepherd’s hook.”

  Danny adjusted his bell sleeves. “Okay. I’ll see you after the performance, Mom.”

  Cate knew when she was being dismissed. As she walked away, she noticed that Annie reached her hand to Danny and they skipped away toward the stage.

  Cate opened the side door to the auditorium and gasped. Had the mayor proclaimed a holiday so that just about every person she knew in town could come to the play? Nearly every seat was taken. There were three rows filled with familiar faces: Sarah and Luke; Nate and Maddie; Gabe and Liz; Rafe and Olivia along with her mother, Julia; Mica sat next to his mother, Gina, who was holding hands with Sam; Austin and Katia; Jack and Sophie.

  But no Trent Davis.

  Mrs. Beabots waved to her. “Over here, Cate!” She patted the empty seat next to her. “I saved you a seat.”

  Cate greeted all her friends as she made her way down the aisle.

  Just as she was about to sit, she saw Trent slip through the door, his eyes scanning the room like a surveillance camera. His face was devoid of any expression. If he saw her, he didn’t acknowledge her. He walked up the aisle to the back of the room and as he did, she noticed a white coil coming from his ear. He lifted his wrist and spoke into it.

  She should have been used to seeing him working, but in that instant, she was acutely aware of the danger he faced. He, and other officers like him, were the shields of protection not just for her but everyone in Indian Lake. Pride for him jolted through her, yet she braced herself. He was prepared for something. She needed to take her cue from him.

  A Christmas carol played from the stereo. A child’s voice came over the microphone. Cate could feel Trent’s eyes on her, and every nerve in her body exploded.

  Her fingers dug into her thighs in the hope of holding herself in her chair. The only thing she wanted to do now was grab Danny and run like the wind.

  But she didn’t.

  Ever since the night of his disclosure about his PTSD, their actions toward each other had become distant; professional and heartbreaking. But what she felt now was different. She glanced again at Trent as he spoke into his wrist microphone.

  She felt as if Trent was hiding her from something. If she or Danny were in greater danger than they’d already been in, Trent should confide in her. But he acted as if she were on another planet.

  The heavy maroon stage curtains opened and the music increased in volume as the children paraded on stage singing “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.”

  Timmy walked onstage, and with a handheld microphone he read the familiar Bible passage.

  Cate didn’t hear a word. She saw Trent leave. Then another man, also wearing a white coil earpiece, followed him. Something was happening.

  In an instant, she felt alone and abandoned by Trent. A wave of dread came over her.

  Brad.

  Suddenly, Danny was onstage, standing on a riser higher than the rest of the children. He shouted his lines rather than spoke them.

  “Joy to the World!” Danny yelled to the very back of the room.

  Cate heard Luke behind her. “That kid’s got presence.”

  “He’s fantastic!” Gabe leaned over and whispered in Cate’s ear.

  She was torn between pride for her son and rising fear.

  Danny continued with his lines and didn’t falter. His enthusiasm brought applause from the audience. As everyone cheered and clapped for Danny, Cate noticed that Trent had returned to the assembly hall. He was applauding, too.

  How had he appeared so instantaneously, as if he walked through walls? He stopped clapping before others had. He said something into his wrist again. Then he motioned to a man who walked down the aisle from the other side and eased his way in front of the others. He said something to the man sitting next to her. Her neighbor got up and left and Trent’s cop sat.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, her heart thundering in her chest. She’d been in this place before—the place where danger gathered strength.

  “Sal Paluzzi.” He offered his hand.

  She took it. “What’s going on?”

  “When the play is over, I’m to escort you out.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Just being cautious, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Beabots, who was sitting on the other side of Cate, took her hand.

  Now Cate was truly frightened. Mrs. Beabots never held anyone’s hand. She patted a hand. Or patted a knee. She hugged, very gently. But she never held a hand—or squeezed one as if to reassure. Mrs. Beabots was always assured. She was seldom afraid.

  Cate exhaled through her nose as if to release the fear she’d been holding on to for the past twenty minutes. Her eyes flew to the stage. The children were singing “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.” They filed off the stage still singing. The pageant was over, and Cate barely remembered it.

  The audience rose with thundering applause, demanding an encore. Some of the kids skipped back on stage. Annie was the lead actress, and she took a separate bow. Luke sprinted to the stage and handed a bouquet of flowers to his daughter. She bent to kiss her father.

  The whistles and shouts were deafening. Mrs. Beabots was clapping. Cate was certain she was applauding, but whatever she did was rote. She felt numb.

  The kids left the stage, but still, she didn’t see Danny.

  The man, Sal, took her elbow. “We need to make our way to the parking lot.”

  “Where’s Danny? I didn’t see Danny!” Cate said. “Where’s my son?”

  “He’s with Detective Davis.”

  “Why?”

  “For his protection.”

  * * *

  TRENT HAD RECEIVED the report directly from Richard Schmitz, since he was part of the elite core of the CPD who were helping with the Le Grande gang sting.

  For nearly a year, all of Indian Lake Police had known that the most active drug dealers conducted business in close vicinity to the area schools.

  Richard’s report stated that the Le Grande gang had rented a house on the south side of St. Mark’s school yard. They’d been onsite less than four hours. Indian Lake PD had immediately started surveillance. Little had been moved into the house—duffel bags, food and folding chairs.

  Trent believed this was a temporary site for Le Grande.

  At 9:16 a.m., a white Cadillac Escalade with an Illinois license plate drove up.

  Fourteen minutes prior to Danny’s school pageant, Le Gra
nde entered the rental house.

  Throughout the play, Trent had been in constant communication with his team. Because Trent had been ordered to watch Cate Sullivan and her son, he would take point on the sting.

  His palms itched with the desire to be the one to apprehend Le Grande.

  When Trent went outside to take the call from Chief Williams, he watched as a stream of cars pulled into St. Mark’s school yard. He was amazed. It was a kid’s Christmas play. A quick count told Trent there were nearly three hundred people, and they were still arriving.

  “Code Purple,” Ned had radioed all the team members.

  The Indian Lake PD was prepared for a possible kidnapping attempt. Trent knew that Sal was inside the auditorium, assigned to Cate. Once the play ended, Sal would walk Cate to the station, and there, he and Cate would wait in a Honda minivan until Trent met them with Danny. From the station, they would drive downstate to Carmel, Indiana, where a safe house had been prepared for Cate and Danny until Le Grande was apprehended and permanently behind bars. Trent hadn’t told Cate how long that process would be, but he hoped it wouldn’t be more than six months—for their sakes.

  Trent felt they’d prepared a viable strategy. He’d been up most of the night making the necessary relocation plans. He’d even arranged to have the Christmas tree moved for them. And Cate’s favorite aqua throw.

  As the play was ending, Trent couldn’t help being caught up in the praise for the kids. They’d all done a great job, and Danny had stolen the show with his exuberant innocence. If ever there was child to make one believe in angels, it was Danny Sullivan.

  The children had gone offstage, and Trent gave Sal the sign to escort Cate to the station. Sal’s unmarked car was parked in the parking lot only six vehicles from the back door. Cate would be fine.

  Parents, friends, family members and the other schoolchildren formed a riptide of humanity that Trent hadn’t calculated into his equation. Getting backstage to Danny took several minutes longer than he’d planned.

  As he’d promised Cate, he purposefully didn’t explain any of the details of his plan, of their moving after the play to Danny. Neither of them wanted Danny to be unduly frightened, especially if Le Grande didn’t show up.