by V. R. Marks
He couldn't watch her suffer. He cleared his throat. "What do you need from me?"
Eva and Ross exchanged a long look full of meaning. Whatever discussion happened in the silence, she lost and her gaze fell to her clasped hands.
"Bart received an email a few hours ago. Eva will show it to you once you're in a secure place. When you add that email to the previous chatter and today's sniper attack I think it's safe to say Morcos is out for Eva."
"If I'm the target he must be new to wet work. I was in that window long enough for an experienced shooter to take my head off."
Carson's stomach rolled sickly at the thought.
"Regardless, the authorities want to contain Bakr and they know Eva is both the best possible bait and the person most likely to find him."
They could start throwing out good news anytime now. "You think he's here in town?"
"No, not personally."
"Not yet," Eva said it like a vow. "He likes to keep his hands clean," she added, still studying her own. "They think he'll make an exception for me."
"Morris, you'll be her personal security detail. I want her to sit tight, right here in Haleswood. Her singular task is to find Morcos before he takes her out. Do whatever you have to do to help her and keep her out of harm's way."
"It's better if I leave town." She smiled up at him with such an artificial sweetness, his teeth ached. "You can help me move someplace cool… like Florence."
"No." Sheriff Cochran shook his head. "Ross is right. You'll stay in town." He looked to Ross. "Deputy Morris is more than capable of protective detail, as you well know, but he's entitled to support and back up from people he trusts."
"But the sniper could –"
"Take out innocent citizens anywhere," the sheriff finished for her. "Just because you wouldn't know them personally in Florence or anywhere else, doesn't mean their families wouldn't suffer the loss."
The admonishment set Eva's cheeks aflame. "Of course, I didn't mean to imply…"
"I know darlin'," Sheriff Cochran said with his kind, fatherly voice.
Carson knew from experience it didn't mean the man was done with his lecture or easing up on his position.
"The people in this town will expect me to put their minds at ease about this attack. That means working the case the right way and Deputy Morris, first on the scene, can't just up and disappear.
"Ross, I've given you a lot of leeway these past weeks. I'd like you to respect my take on this. With our combined efforts I believe Ruth's house would be the safest place in town. She has all the amenities and it's defensible." He cleared his throat. "She can move into my place until Eva gets this resolved. Between us, we can find trustworthy personnel to maintain a twenty-four hour perimeter surveillance."
"I still want someone with her."
"Don't need a babysitter," Eva groused.
The sheriff ignored her. "My deputy here can hardly move in with her without causing a scandal that would end his prospects with Shannon O'Kelly."
"And here I thought we were living in the twenty-first century," Eva said.
Carson felt her gaze on him, but he was too busy trying to keep his mouth from falling open to give her any kind of acknowledgement. Shannon had dumped him last year – rather publicly. Hard to believe the sheriff had forgotten that.
"What's the big deal? The sniper brought this situation out of undercover status."
Wondering the same thing, Carson appreciated Ross asking first.
"Hang on!" Eva surged to her feet. "What is wrong with me staying at the motel?"
"Too public," the sheriff and Ross said in unison.
"Bad enough if you're under the same roof," the sheriff added. "The same room is out of the question. Even in the twenty-first century. You'd drive each other crazy in minutes. Besides, Deputy Morris can't get in and out of there without being noticed."
"Everything gets noticed in Haleswood anyway," she said. "I'm already settled at the motel and the public location works against whatever Morcos has in mind."
"You're not the tactical expert," Ross said. "It's easier to protect you there."
Carson appreciated her effort, admired her argument, but he knew the sheriff. And Ross' implacable expression didn't bode well either. She'd lose this battle. They both would.
"You're more secluded at Ruth's house," the sheriff said. "There's more space, separate bedrooms, and a full kitchen. That means less need for coming and going which gives the sniper fewer chances to take out my deputy.
"Plus, she's got that new security system and the neighbors are still on alert to any oddities after the trouble last month. All of that works to your advantage, young lady."
"Secluded or not, everyone will know I'm there in less than five minutes." Crossing her arms drew his attention to her chest. Carson looked away, hoping the sheriff would relent. "What's the gain?"
"We can defend you more effectively," Ross repeated.
She rolled her eyes. "If it's so safe up there, I don't need a babysitter or a bodyguard."
"You need someone who can fire back," Ross stated plainly.
Eva gasped, it was clearly one betrayal too many. "Fine." Once more she slid her laptop into the bag. "Work out your secret entrances, handshakes, and code words. I'll be with Bart."
She stormed out, leaving the men to stare at one another.
"She'll come around," Ross said, sounding less than convinced.
"I'll call Ruth." The sheriff raised his cell phone. He nodded to Carson. "Go on and stay with her until you get word we have a perimeter in place. I imagine that will take us a few hours."
Carson winced.
"She won't admit it, but she needs support while Bart's in surgery. As much as they bicker, they're very close," Ross finished.
Carson nodded. That sort of thing worked for some couples.
Chapter 4
"Why did he close the blinds?"
Eva popped one of her ear buds free and glanced up from her computer into the clear blue eyes of Deputy Morris. "Pardon?" She'd been ignoring his presence; it was safer for him that way. The hospital Wi-Fi in the surgery waiting room was dreadfully slow and the lack of immediate progress exacerbated her edgy mood.
"The blinds. If your friend didn't have a headache, why close them?"
"Why are you so hung up on the stupid blinds? Wouldn't you rather be up on the post office roof trying to find a lead on the sniper?"
"Yes, but I'm assigned to you."
She saw his resignation and understood it completely. "Outranked and outflanked." She slumped in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. "We're a sorry pair."
"I could probably help you more if you'd talk about it."
"Nothing to talk about until I know what's what." She closed her laptop. Defeat and getting stonewalled seemed to be the themes for her day.
"Why did he close the blinds?"
She groaned. "You are a broken record." Putting one of her ear buds back in, she said, "I'm pretending you're not here."
"Fair enough, since I'd rather be anywhere else."
That stung, even if she felt the same way. "Are the blinds that important to your report?"
"It was practically your first comment at the scene. You could veg with whatever's on your iPod, but why not do something for the case? The Wi-Fi here sucks."
"Gee, do you come here often?" She leaned away from the annoyed look he aimed at her.
"It's common knowledge."
Guilt slammed into her. He must have spent hours here at the hospital when his dad was sick and dying. Whether he meant the Wi-Fi issues or his father's death didn't matter. What was wrong with her? Curt or abrasive she would own up to, but she'd never been accused of being completely insensitive. "Deputy M –"
"Carson."
"Carson." She swallowed, trying to clear the lump out of her throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."
"I know how you could make it up to me," he said with a teasing half grin that held too much appeal.
"Rightly so, it turns out."
She shrugged. "Maybe."
"You really aren't convinced you're the target?"
"Nope." Denial was a beautiful thing and she'd indulge it on this topic until the last possible second. She leaned into him, close enough so no one else could hear, and the subtle, crisp scent of his cologne teased her nose. He didn't seem like the cologne type, but she liked it. "Because we don't really know anything other than some idiot with a gun shot out a court house window."
"Fair enough. So Bart's trustworthy and the sniper is just a random idiot. Got any other theories that might lead to an arrest in this case?"
She was saved from telling him outright lies – or worse – the truth, when a young woman walked up sporting a hospital ID that read S. O'Kelly.
Hmm. With Haleswood's modest population, it surprised her that she hadn't met any of the O'Kellys yet. Unless mother O'Kelly had a thing for alliteration in naming her children, this was likely Carson's prospect Shannon, as the sheriff had put it.
Blonde, blue-eyed, cheerleader type. Eva took in the details with the thoroughness of a jealous lover, which only added to her irritation with the whole day. Shannon and Carson together would be a perfect, charming picture. Ack. Hairball. It was one thing to feel possessive about a man she was dating. To feel this way about a man who'd only asked her out as a way to appease her boss was a new low.
"Ms. Battaglia?"
As if there was any real question. She was likely the only person in the room Miss O'Kelly didn't know personally. She set her laptop aside and stood. "Is he out of surgery?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Eva managed not to cringe at the ma'am. "When can I see him?"
Those perfectly glossed lips curved in a warm smile. "Mr. Bartholomew's surgeon will be out shortly to fill you in."
"Okay. Thanks." Eva rubbed her palms together. She was almost free of this waiting room with its cheerful décor, glossy brochures on chronic illness and death, and terminally slow Internet.
The more time she spent in Haleswood, the more she realized the rest of the world didn't move at the same fast pace she preferred. As much as she enjoyed the people, there were moments when she felt like she'd been transported back in time.
Her mind raced forward. She'd spend the night here with Bart, feeding him ice chips or sneaking him ice cream, whichever he preferred. And tomorrow they'd convince Ross to let Carson off the hook for babysitting. Full of nerves, she looped her laptop bag across her body and wrestled her cell phone out of her pocket. "I'll notify his family." It would give Carson a chance to woo his perfectly adorable 'prospect'. Gag.
She sent a quick text message to Bart's ex-wife, promising someone would let her know more when details about his expected recovery time came in. Another text went to Ross. Still aggravated, she wasn't ready to communicate verbally with her boss just yet.
In the reflection of the window across the room, she watched Carson walk Shannon back to her desk. Because so many terrible things could happen in the thirty or so feet between here and there.
Eva pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. She couldn't possibly be this petty all the time. A difficult day was no reason to snipe about the people who'd been helpful, even in her mind. She'd never resented nice people or common courtesy before.
Determined to reverse her negative attitude before the surgeon arrived, she took slow, deep breaths and focused on a happy memory. It was an exercise her mother had taught her when her temper kept getting her in trouble in the seventh grade. That in itself was always the first happy memory.
"Doing the right thing is commendable, Evangeline," her mother had said with pride. "But you must do it in the right way."
Back then, Eva had been standing up for a friend who was getting bullied for the high crime among children of being different. In that instance, her friend had been deemed too short and Eva had taken action, punching the bully in the nose and labeling him 'Too Bloody Tom'.
She figured the reminder was timely here. Trapping Bakr Morcos would require not only the right actions, but taking those actions with the right support and going through the right channels. Irritating or not, her temper would only create more problems in the current circumstances.
"Eva?"
"Yes?" She turned to find Carson looking at her with far too much concern. Beside him stood a man in scrubs. "Hello." She extended her hand. "You must be the surgeon."
The newcomer nodded. "Mr. Bartholomew is in recovery and doing well. The bullet missed everything vital, so we have no serious concerns. He'll stay overnight for observation and I expect he'll be discharged in the morning."
"Can I see him?"
"Of course," the surgeon said with a nod. "A nurse will come get you as soon as he's in a room."
"Thank you." Relief swamped her and she sagged into the nearest chair the moment the doctor walked away. "More waiting," she said to Carson.
"But you know he's okay now."
She nodded, unable to give voice to all the fear she'd felt when that bullet tore through Bart. Losing him – or any of her friends from her Army days – wasn't an option.
Carson held up his phone. "Sheriff Cochran called. Ruth's place should be ready for you in an hour or so."
"Okay."
"Once you've seen him we'll get you moved."
"Am I the only one who understands bringing more 'strangers' to the area raises more questions and makes us more vulnerable?" Carson silently stared at a point just over her shoulder. She knew the painting on the wall behind her wasn't that interesting. "Aha! You agree with me."
"Didn't say that."
"You didn't have to. It's all over your face."
"The additional security team coming will be vetted. They're not strangers if we know them."
"Convenient reasoning."
He grumbled an unintelligible response just as her cell phone hummed with an incoming text.
She pulled up the message, read it, and dropped the phone. Stupid move. This guy would pounce on any sign of weakness. She looked around the waiting room wondering who it could be. Think! But the dread icing her spine made logic a challenge. Less than ten people had this cell phone number. Until now.
She'd been hoping only Bart's phone was compromised, but it looked like whoever was pulling the strings had more details than they should. As much as she'd argued this wasn't only about her, the new text proved Ross was probably right.
Carson knelt to pick up her phone. "What is it?"
"Just jittery," she said with a brittle smile. "Without being obvious, can you tell me if there are any strangers in here?"
His gaze narrowed when she showed him the text.
He impressed her with his lack of reaction to both her request and the threat glowing on her cell phone screen:
Greetings vostra altezza. It seems another pawn has sacrificed himself for you. Cooperate and the suffering will end.
"What's vostra altezza?"
"It means 'your highness' in Italian."
"I see." Carson returned her phone, his hand steady and his lips set in a grim line. "Forward that to your boss. I'll alert the sheriff."
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Is there anyone you don't know sitting around here?"
He sat down beside her, draping his arm across the back of her chair. With the ease of an actor secure in his role, he sent the sheriff a text and then balanced the phone on his knee while he waited for a reply. "Nope. Same faces I've seen all my life."
That was a whole different kind of scary in Eva's opinion. It should have bee
n a comfort, being able to quickly discern who belonged and who didn't, instead the concept baffled her.
"Has anyone left the room since that message arrived?"
"No one's moved." She scanned the room again. "No one's too interested in us. Well aside from that couple."
He nodded and smiled in the general direction of the couple in question. "The Shepards. She's my mother's cousin. Quite the scandal when she married a stranger." He dropped his voice to a whisper on that last word. "They probably think I'm cozied up to you to make Shannon jealous."
Were they cozied up? "Is she the jealous type?"
"Not about me," he muttered, distracted by the sudden flash of an incoming call on his cell phone.
They were close enough she could hear the sheriff's voice barking at Carson through the phone. She shook her head when she heard the order to leave the hospital immediately.
"Not until I see Bart," she whispered.
He signaled her to hush and patted her knee. She glared. The man had a death wish. She would leave the hospital once she saw Bart was safe and not a moment before.
Her cell phone hummed again. She read the text, not surprised Ross was on the sheriff's side, but at least his message offered a small consolation. Her boss understood her all too well.
He's fine. I'm standing guard at his door until Rick arrives. Go. Hide. Fight.
She wanted to argue, but couldn't. Ross hadn't been on that mission, Morcos wouldn't consider him a target. And she couldn't track him down without decent Internet access.
Resigned, she tilted the phone for Carson. He nodded and, with the phone still to his ear, they left the hospital waiting room together. He made her wait while he pulled the car to the door. When she was safe in the passenger seat, he pocketed his phone and asked for hers.
"Why?"
"The sheriff says Ross will get you another one. They think the sniper or whoever hired him will use it to track your location."
She wasn't buying that excuse. "Like that would be a challenge. He already knows I'm in Haleswood. Not a lot of places to hide here." She sensed Carson didn't want to push her and belatedly recognized his primary concern. "Stop coddling me. I'm not going to have a nervous breakdown because some jerk is sending me threatening text messages."