Morrow's Horizon (The Morrow Women Series Book 1)

by Sierra Kummings

  Something niggled at the back of Jacob’s consciousness. Something he was missing. Just like with his men in—

  No, no, no! He didn’t have time for that. If losing his shit was his punishment, he’d gladly take it, but tonight, after he’d apologized. Right now, Sara deserved all his attention.

  Jacob palmed his phone again, took a deep breath, and tapped the last number dialed on his phone.

  44

  Sara replaced the receiver in its cradle. It’s now or never. Naomi had just gone to the back to do Yolanda’s bidding which meant there was now one less employee in the line of fire.

  If only Mrs. Williams and her boys had left too.

  “Let’s go.”

  Yolanda counted out money and handed it across the counter to Mrs. Williams. Maybe Sara could get lucky if she stalled a few seconds more. “Wait!” As she straightened from her hunch over her desk, she tried to look at her assailant, but he stayed behind her. Come on, think! “I can get you exactly what you need. But I have to do it alone.”

  “Nice try. Move.”

  “I’m serious. Please, listen to me. As soon as we go behind the teller line, someone will press the call button to alert the police. Do you want that?” Please say no. Please say no.

  “Why should I believe that you haven’t already done that and are stalling until they get here?”

  The fact he questioned her instead of propelling her forward showed promise. She tried to hold onto that as Mrs. Williams herded her boys across the lobby. “Because I can’t reach it. See? It’s over there.” She pointed the button on the far-right side of her desk out to him and prayed he accepted her show of good faith. “If you let me grab my purse and take it with me, I can put the money in it and come back out to give it to you.” Of course, once she was back there she’d hit the emergency button on the wall, but he didn’t have to know that. “Here, take my cell.” She reached for her bag and handed him the smart phone, taking it as a good sign he let her.

  What did her coworkers think of her actions? As cool as she’d tried to play things, the man had to look sketchy as all hell, standing so close to her. But would they think he was a friend now that she’d handed over her cell?

  She cast a glance Yolanda’s way, silently begging the woman to figure things out. If the police managed to make it there while Sara was in the back and he was out here by himself things had a chance of ending without anyone getting hurt.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Mrs. Williams called out from a few feet away. “Do you think you’ll have time to help me? I don’t mind waiting.”

  No!

  The woman stood over to the right of the customer service desks, right where they had a sign-up sheet for service. As Sara was the only one manning the area that morning, Mrs. Williams’ cast a frazzled glance her way.

  Why didn’t you leave? “Now’s not a good time. Do you mind coming back?”

  Surprise at being shooed away turned into a genuine smile when the man behind Sara stepped back and held out a welcoming hand to the woman.

  He motioned her to the chairs in front of Sara’s desk. “Actually, I’ll only be a few minutes more. Why don’t you and your boys come sit down over here while you wait?”

  Before Sara could think of a convincing reason to dissuade the woman, the branch phone rang again. She glanced toward the teller line that now only RJ manned, Mr. Shriver in front of him.

  Where had everyone gone?

  Sara dove for the phone, hoping to somehow convey to Mrs. Williams to run. “Tha-Thank you for calling. This is Sa—” Fuck. “Rosarita. How can I help you?”

  Though the woman didn’t seem to register Sara’s name change, her boys giggled. Sara nodded her head toward Bel’s desk and the candy dish on the corner.

  Thankfully, they at least understood her. They ran off to grab candy while Sara’s hand shook so badly she almost dropped the phone.

  “I’m glad you’re answering again.”

  Jacob! Here it was, her one last chance for help. “I can’t talk. I’m with a client right now. Can I connect you to Marc?” She transferred the call without waiting for his response.

  All she could do at this point was cross her fingers and hope Jacob would make the connection.

  45

  Jacob slammed his hand against the steering wheel again after ending the call mid-ring. What the hell? All he’d wanted to do was talk to Sara, and she’d shot him down. Twice. And in a manner that made absolutely no sense. Why had she transferred his call to Marc? What did security have to do with—

  Shit!

  Terror held him motionless no more than a second while he redialed BCF security and willed Marc to pick up.

  Jacob still had five minutes separating him from Sara.

  And too many congested miles.

  Sara needed help now.

  Marc answered on the third ring. Jacob wasted no time with hello. “Any calls come in from 30th Street?”

  “Nothing I’m aware of. Why? I’m out of the office, but no one on my team has called me.”

  His best friend’s even tone didn’t ease the erratic beat of Jacob’s heart. “Call 911. Now. And loop me in. Robbery in progress. I don’t want to be tied up with them if Sara calls me back.”

  “On it. Hold on.” Instead of asking more questions, Marc did as Jacob asked, and the dial tone sounded in the background.

  “911. What’s your emergency?”

  Jacob tuned out the exchange between his friend and the dispatcher, focusing on the road in front of him. Though it opened up in less than twenty feet, the distance felt far too long. Sara needed him now.

  He closed his eyes, barely resisting the urge to beat his head back against the headrest. Why had he listened to Marc weeks ago? He never should’ve removed that security guard. Jacob had known it then but done it anyway, dammit.

  He gripped the steering wheel. Please Lord, let her be okay. I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t lose her.

  The prayer sounded foreign in his head, but he repeated it over and over without ceasing while the seconds stretched by like hours. Each one projected a more gruesome image in his mind. Sara lying in a puddle of blood. Sara, ravaged by a bullet, her face an unrecognizable mess of skull, brain, and blood. Sara’s body stretched across the pale sand next to his fallen comrades.

  Fuck, what was taking so long? He needed to be there already.

  46

  “I don’t care how many people she has waiting. I was here first.” Mr. Shriver’s voice rose above Sara’s frantically beating heart, providing her with one last opportunity.

  She glanced pleadingly at Mrs. Williams.

  “You know what? I think I will come back later.”

  YES!

  “Well, I don’t want to come back later.” Mr. Shriver shoved past her boys, and the woman left with no more than a backward glance at the rude man. He paid her no attention as he stormed over to Sara’s desk. “Since you’re the only one competent enough to help me, I’ll wait right here.” He took her now empty seat while glaring back at the teller line.

  Thank you, Jesus!

  That thanks died as the robber sat down next to the cantankerous old man. As much as she disliked Mr. Shriver, she didn’t want to see him hurt either. But what could she do other than note as many features as she could now that the assailant was in her line of sight, from his shifty, dilated eyes, to the splotchy red birthmark that went from above his right eye to below his ear?

  As if he knew she studied him, he moved his jacket so she could see his gun and the angle he now held it at facing in Mr. Shriver’s direction.

  Damn! Get it together, Sara.

  She could hate the situation as much as she wanted, but her feelings didn’t change anything. Her actions hopefully could.

  To do just that, she jumped to her feet. “Give me a minute, okay, Mr. Shriver? Let me get this man what he came here for and then I’ll be all yours.” So long as we all live through it.

  Sara grabbed her purse and crossed her
fingers, then took off at a near run.

  Of course Mr. Shriver couldn’t be content with that. She heard him stand and shuffle behind her, muttering how he’d been there first.

  In the hopes that he not gain the ire of the man holding the gun, Sara made the mistake of glancing back over her shoulder to call out, “I’ll be right back. I pro—”

  She flailed for only a second. Her haste and inattention had caused her right foot to slip out from underneath her, and in horror she watched the man pull out his weapon while she helplessly careened backwards to the floor.

  Her ass hit first.

  Then her shoulder.

  Neither softened the blow as her head met hardwood in a resounding crack and everything went black.

  47

  “Sorry, Jacob. Someone pressed the silent alarm ten minutes ago. My staff got the call and handled it and police are at the location now. I don’t know why my phone didn’t get an alert as soon as the alarm was pushed. We’ve been testing a new system since Sands was robbed, but clearly…”

  Yeah, clearly.

  Jacob would deal with the gross incompetence of whoever was responsible for that security measure after he found out if Sara was okay. For now, he concentrated on the road ahead of him and pushed through the bottleneck. As soon as he cleared, his foot laid on the gas, sending his jeep speeding down El Cajon Boulevard.

  Every second proved a fight to keep himself focused on the present. Sara was in definite danger. She’d been trying to warn him, begging him for help, and he’d been clueless.

  While Marc spoke with the 911 dispatcher, the line of reality started to distort.

  He’d been so worried about what he wanted, about what he’d been trying to say, that he hadn’t listened to Sara. She’d given him the fucking good for a robbery and he’d done nothing.

  All of this, everything that happened, would be his fault.

  Again.

  Just like then.

  His men had died and now Sara was being taken from him.

  The inside of Jacob’s mouth filled with blood from where he bit his cheek, but the pain didn’t help.

  Nothing helped. He couldn’t count. He couldn’t breathe. Then blended with now—Moorhouse’s boasts as real as Marc’s voice.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “The employee said it wasn’t safe to talk, but confirmed only one suspect before hanging up.”

  “Ten fingers, ten toes, and all healthy parts in between.”

  Jacob’s vehicle bounced over a dip in broken concrete.

  That’s all it took for him to completely cross the divide in his mind.

  That jolt caused the Humvee’s interior to flash in front of him so that he no longer drove his jeep through San Diego’s streets, instead, the Humvee’s tires kicked up sand in the sweltering desert heat a continent away.

  The blurred red from a light up ahead only confused Jacob for a split second before his passenger window shattered on impact. His eyes threatened to close right as Private Moorhouse’s blood turned into the white nose of a delivery truck.

  48

  “Ma’am. Ma’am? Are you okay?”

  A firm hand squeezed Sara’s arm until she opened her eyes to a fierce woman in an emergency responder uniform. As mahogany wood and royal blue paint came into focus around her, Sara pushed against the hand, trying to sit up. “The man. There’s a robber. Mrs. Williams’ boys! Mr. Shriver!”

  “Everyone’s fine. Guy’s in custody.”

  The brisk response brought relief far too quickly. Sara barely had time to jerk out of her savior’s arms before she vomited all over the brilliant floor.

  She trembled as she realized that the floor, along with her wonderful and most cherished pair of boots, had saved her life.

  Dear God, she might never take her boots off again.

  She fought off the urge to bend and kiss the floor that she’d just soiled.

  Careful to avoid the mess she’d made, a uniformed San Diego police officer stepped into her line of vision. “We need to ask you some questions.”

  Sara could only stare at him, her voice gone.

  Thankfully, her savior came to her rescue again. “Not yet, you don’t. She took a pretty nasty fall and needs to be checked out. Follow us to the hospital. Docs will tell you when she’s capable of making a statement.”

  The officer started to argue, but the militant woman strapped Sara to a gurney and wheeled her toward the entrance, pushing him out of the way.

  Sara closed her eyes to block out the blinding light of the sun. When she opened them again, it was to the sight of a hospital room.

  “Hey, honey.” Somehow her father sat by her bedside, stroking her hair like he used to when she was sick.

  “Wher—What happened? I was in the ambulance, then…” Actually, she didn’t even remember that, just the gurney bumping over the sidewalk.

  “You passed out on the way here. They admitted you.”

  Already? How long had she been out? “Where’s everyone else?” Her mom? Jacob?

  “They’re on their way. I was the closest.”

  Yeah, her father would be. He worked no more than ten minutes from her branch.

  Her branch. The place where she’d almost died.

  Shudders wracked her body at the thought. Would she ever be able to return there again?

  49

  Jacob woke to pain everywhere. His head, his body…

  What the hell had happened? He tried to open his eyes, but the effort drained him as his chest screamed with every breath.

  He needed to remember… something…

  He’d been driving to Sara. To apologize. But then… what?

  Sara! She’d been dying. He had to…

  “No. Don’t move. Let me get your father. He’s right outside with the doctor.”

  Despite his mind telling him not to listen, his mother’s hazy shape and familiar voice settled Jacob. It’d been a nightmare. It’d all been a nightmare.

  He lifted his head an inch before collapsing with a gasp. Too weak to fight, he passed out.

  50

  Kas climbed into bed with Sara not two seconds after she returned from her repeat CAT scan. Unable to do anything else, Sara leaned into her mother’s strength. “I can’t believe it’s all over.” Even though the threat had passed, the thought of almost not seeing her mother again overwhelmed Sara. “I love you, Momma. I love you so much.”

  Kas smoothed Sara’s hair, landing soothing kisses along her temple. “No more than I love you.”

  And wasn’t that the beauty of mother-daughter relationships? Sara might be slowly working her way back to a grudging acceptance of her father, but she never in a million years would’ve doubted her mother’s love like she had his.

  The two of them held each other tight until the nurse slipped into the room to push something through Sara’s IV. Even though she’d been cleared of having a concussion, they still wanted to monitor her overnight.

  Whatever they gave her to calm her down turned out to be a blessing. Within minutes, in the shelter of her mother’s love, Sara slipped into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

  Once Kas left, waking nightmares claimed Sara. An orderly came into the room to check on her and Sara took one glance at the birthmark on his face and freaked. Sage rushed in, but even with her sister and the meds still in her system, it took minutes to calm her.

  And for what? A birthmark? His hadn’t even looked the same.

  Yet Sara’s breath hitched a little with every exhale.

  It didn’t help that the police knocked on the door mere seconds later, either.

  Sara screamed, then glanced at the two detectives filing into the room in embarrassment.

  She probably looked like a nutjob to everyone. They all treated her as if she might break at any moment.

  Who knew, maybe she would?

  Sara tried to answer their questions to the best of her ability, but between the
meds and the fast pace of everything that had happened, she had a hard time remembering specifics. She could tell them exactly how the gun had felt pressed up against her skin, yet she couldn’t remember how tall the guy had been, or the correct sequence of events.

  Sage stayed with Sara through it all, somehow knowing when she needed her hand held, a glass of water, or a bit of personal space as she recounted details.

  Sara hadn’t expected that, but its occurrence gave her the strength to finally ask the question she’d wondered since she’d heard the man’s first raspy whisper. “Is there a connection between this guy and the ones who robbed Sands?”

  The lead detective answered her. “He’s part of a gang that offered a hideout for the others, but not part of the original crew. The stupid SOB heard enough of the details and had enough drugs pumped in his system to think he could pull it off by himself, though. If there’s anything to be thankful for, it’s that no one got hurt and that as soon as we took him into custody, he provided enough information to apprehend the last guy.”

  Knowing that should have provided Sara with relief. So what did it say about her that she still wanted to run and hide while Sage thanked the officers as they filed out of the room?

  It said her sister had more maturity than any of them gave her credit for.

  Respect flooded Sara. “Sage Monroe Morrow, when did you grow up on me?”

  “Hush now.” Sage walked back over to Sara’s bedside, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t you dare tell anyone. It would positively ruin my reputation.”

  A laugh wheezed past Sara’s dry throat. Though it should’ve been refreshing, it couldn’t chase away the fear that lingered. The repeat track of that morning’s events wouldn’t stop playing in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and rested back against the pillow.