by Laura Scott
“Good morning,” Marc said, hovering in the doorway between their rooms. “Did you sleep okay?”
She forced a smile. “Yes. One thing about being pregnant is that sleep comes much easier.”
“I’m glad,” Marc murmured, his gaze dropping down to her stomach, hidden by the bulky sweater she wore. “Mitch is bringing breakfast. We’ll talk about the plan for getting you into the courthouse while we eat.”
“All right.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and walked over to his room. “Did your brothers stay all night?”
“They did. They shared the room next to mine.” Marc had already packed his things together. “Miles is grabbing more gear, as well.”
Gear as in guns? She couldn’t imagine what else they’d need.
Marc filled the small single-cup coffee dispenser with water. “Decaf, right?”
“Yes, please.” She was ridiculously pleased he’d remembered she was avoiding caffeine because of the baby. When he handed her the cup, her fingers brushed his, sending a tingle of awareness up her arm. As nervous as she was, being with Marc gave her strength.
By the time they both had coffee, Mitch arrived with breakfast. Her stomach rumbled with hunger as the mouthwatering scents of French toast, maple syrup and bacon filled the room.
She was about to bow her head to pray, when Marc reached over to take her hand. She hung on, not ever wanting to let go.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for this food we are about to eat. We also ask that You keep us safe in Your care today as we seek justice. Amen.”
“Amen,” she whispered, touched by the fact that Marc was willing to pray with his brother standing there.
“Amen,” Mitch added.
“Thank you, Marc,” she said, reaching for a plastic fork. “That was nice.”
His smile was lopsided. “You’re going to be fine today,” he said in a reassuring tone. “Between the three of us, we’ll keep you safe.”
“I believe you,” she said.
They were halfway through breakfast when Miles arrived, carrying several heavy bags. She stared at them in confusion. What on earth did he bring? Surely, each of those bags wasn’t full of weapons?
“Got body armor for all of us,” Miles announced, dropping the bags on the bed. “Hope you have food left for me.”
“Nope, we ate it all,” Mitch said, popping a crispy slice of bacon into his mouth. “You’ll have to get your own.”
She frowned, glancing at the takeout container that still hadn’t been opened. “Isn’t this for Miles?”
Mitch groaned. “You weren’t supposed to tell him yet,” he said. “It would have been more fun to watch him get all riled up.”
She flushed and shrugged, not used to the way siblings played jokes on each other.
“It’s okay, Kari,” Marc said with a quick wink. “They still think they’re ten and twelve sometimes.”
“Do not,” Mitch huffed in protest. “We were in our teens when the practical jokes started.”
Miles punched Mitch playfully in the arm before reaching over to pick up his food. “At least Kari is nice to me.”
Her smile faded as a wave of intense longing hit hard. This camaraderie that existed between Marc and his brothers was something she’d always longed for. A sense of belonging that had eluded her since her mother passed away.
Her baby chose that moment to kick, as if reminding her that she wouldn’t be alone for long. She placed a hand over her abdomen, enjoying the sensation.
When she lifted her head, she discovered three pairs of male eyes watching her intently. As if they’d never encountered a pregnant woman before.
Maybe they hadn’t.
“I think this baby is going to be either a football player or a soccer player,” she said, striving for a light tone. “He or she is pretty active these days.”
Was it her imagination or was that a flash of longing she’d glimpsed in Marc’s eyes? She told herself not to be foolish, but at the same time, she wanted it to be true.
“We’re going to have you wear a bulletproof vest,” he said, breaking the sudden silence. “If you’re finished eating, I’d like you to try it on.”
“Okay.” She closed her empty container and rose to her feet.
Marc dug through the bag on the bed, then held out what looked to be a black vest. It looked huge and she stared at it doubtfully.
“I’m going to look silly wearing that over my clothes,” she said.
“Actually, I’d like you to wear it under your sweater,” Marc corrected. “Here’s one of my T-shirts. Why don’t you change into it, and we’ll see how the vest fits?”
She did as he asked, going into the bathroom to change. Marc’s T-shirt was soft and warm and smelled like him. She buried her nose in the fabric for a moment, filling her head with the comforting sandalwood scent, before stripping her baggy sweater off and pulling his shirt over her head.
It was long and a bit big, but she didn’t mind. She carried her sweater out with her to join the brothers.
“Lift your arms up for me, please,” Marc said, pulling the Velcro straps apart so that the vest was in two pieces. Working quickly, he managed to get the vest fitted around her torso. Her stomach pooched out a bit, but the vest was long enough to cover her down to her hips.
Marc stepped back, double-checking his handiwork. “That should work,” he said mostly to himself. “Now we’ll put the sweater on over it.”
The sweater covered the vest, although with all the extra padding she knew she looked as if she’d gained forty pounds. Not that vanity was important.
“Looks good,” Mitch said in agreement. “We should probably get going, since our plan is to arrive before everyone else.”
Marc didn’t say anything. He was still looking at her with such intensity she wondered if she looked worse than she thought.
“I’m ready, too,” Miles added, pushing his empty breakfast container aside. “Marc? Are you all set?”
“Yeah, I’m good to go,” he said in a deep husky voice. For a long moment she thought he might kiss her again, but then he turned toward his brothers. “We all need to suit up first, though.”
Kari watched as all three of the Callahans pulled off their thick sweaters to put on their own vests. She was glad they’d be covered, too, and found herself hoping that all these precautions would prove unnecessary. She found it hard to believe anything would happen to her between now and eight thirty in the morning, when she was scheduled to be in the federal courthouse, ready to testify.
Please, Lord, give me the strength and courage to do this.
Her silent prayer helped keep her calm as the guys gathered everything together, obviously intending to check out of the motel rooms.
She felt another pang at knowing her time with Marc was coming to an end.
She’d miss him so much. His strength, his kindness, his protectiveness. She sucked in a harsh breath.
She cared about him. Far more than she should.
* * *
Twenty-five minutes later, Marc glanced at Kari, wondering what she was thinking. She’d been unusually quiet on the drive downtown. “There’s the courthouse,” he said, gesturing toward the right side of the truck. “It’s pretty dark now because it’s six thirty in the morning, but that’s where you’ll testify.”
She nodded. “Looks impressive. Where’s the entrance to the underground parking?”
“Mitch and Miles are heading there first, to make sure the coast is clear. They’ll call me when it’s safe to bring you down there.”
“I see.” She shifted in her seat. “I don’t know how you guys get used to wearing this stuff. It’s heavy.”
He shrugged, deciding not to point out that wearing the safety gear was better than the alternative. “It�
��s not so bad. You get used to it.”
“Maybe you do,” she said, lips slanting downward.
He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, wishing the niggling feeling in his gut would go away. When his phone rang, he started badly, proof that his nerves were on edge.
“Yeah?”
“It’s clear, but there are more cars down here than we anticipated at this hour,” Miles said.
The niggling sensation got worse. “Okay, we’re on our way.” He turned to face Kari. “Ready?”
“Absolutely,” she said with what sounded like false cheerfulness.
Marc circled the block then approached a narrow entrance to the underground parking garage. The area was well lit, and he frowned when he saw what Mitch meant. Most of the parking spaces were empty, except for one or two older-model cars that looked like they might belong to the cleaning crew.
But over near the doorway that opened up to a stairwell, there were well over a dozen cars parked.
Two of the vehicles belonged to Miles and Mitch; they’d chosen spaces as close to the stairwell as possible.
Marc parked the truck between his brothers. “I don’t like it,” he said with a dark scowl. “What’s with all the cars?”
“I don’t know, but I agree it looks suspicious,” Miles admitted. “We checked—they’re all empty.”
Marc drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “What if they’re rigged to blow? That kind of diversion would cause enough chaos that someone could get to Kari.”
She let out a sound of distress and he hated the way she’d gone pale.
Miles and Mitch exchanged a long look. “We’ll take a closer look,” Mitch said.
“Maybe we should get a bomb-sniffing dog here,” Marc suggested. “There’s no way we can break into every vehicle in order to search them. Even if we tried, we might miss something.”
“Good idea,” Miles said. “I’ll call in a few favors, see if I can get someone to come without going through official channels.”
Marc glanced at his watch, hoping that the bomb-sniffing dog would get here before anyone else showed up. It was difficult to know who to trust, when he had no idea where the threat was coming from.
Kari shivered beside him and he turned in his seat to face her. “It will be okay. We’re just being extra cautious.”
“I know.” Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her. “I trust you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to the witness he’d lost over a year ago. Joey Simmons had trusted him, too. A fact that hadn’t worked out too well.
Not again, Lord. Please, not again...
Miles rapped sharply on his window, so he pushed the button to lower it. “A friend of mine, Connor Black, will be here soon with Duchess.”
Marc assumed Duchess was the dog. “Great, thanks.”
True to his word, Connor Black arrived in the parking structure fifteen minutes later. The black-haired guy slid out of the car, then opened the back passenger-side door to let out a large German shepherd. Duchess nimbly jumped down to the ground, then sat on her haunches beside Connor, waiting patiently as he attached a leash to her collar.
“Stay back while she’s working,” Connor instructed. Then he said something in a low tone to the dog and gestured to the parked cars.
Marc was impressed at how the dog worked methodically, sniffing around each car, then working her way down the row. She took her time, sometimes circling back to sniff at an area again before moving on.
The underground parking garage was completely quiet except for the sound of Duchess’s nails clicking on the concrete. He could hear increased sounds of traffic from the street outside, and wasn’t surprised when the first car entered the parking garage.
Using his rearview mirror, he tracked the vehicle as it wove through the parking spaces. The driver chose a spot a row or two behind them. When the driver slid out from behind the wheel, his attention was on the phone in his hand. When he pulled a briefcase out of the backseat, Marc pegged him for an attorney. The guy didn’t seem to notice or care about Duchess, either, simply strode toward the doorway leading to the stairwell without looking back.
“No bombs,” Miles said. “According to Connor and Duchess, the vehicles are clean.”
“That’s good news,” Marc said in relief. “Maybe we’ve been worried over nothing.”
Miles grunted, but didn’t say anything more. Marc lifted a hand in thanks as Connor and Duchess drove away.
“It’s seven o’clock,” Mitch said, coming over to join them. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of traffic coming in now, as people try to beat the rush. Of course, they’ll only let attorneys and judges in this early. The general public isn’t allowed in for another thirty minutes.”
“I know.” Marc tried to weigh the pros and cons of using his badge to get into the courtroom early. “What do you guys think? Should I take her in now and demand the bailiffs let us in?”
Miles let out a heavy sigh. “They’ll likely call it in, which effectively announces that you’re here with Kari, but maybe that doesn’t really matter. After all, by the time they rush to get here, you’ll already be safe inside.”
“Unless the bailiff refuses to let them in,” Mitch pointed out.
More cars were streaming into the structure and Marc didn’t like it. “I’m willing to take the chance,” he said. “I can probably call my boss if I have to.” He hadn’t talked to Evan White since the hurried phone call from the gas station on Friday, but surely his boss would understand.
“All right, let’s go,” Mitch agreed.
Marc climbed down from the truck and hurried over to assist Kari out. He knew her ability to move would be hampered by the heavy vest.
When she was steady on her feet, he shut the passenger-side door behind her. More and more cars streamed in, making him more nervous by the second. He tried to scan the people getting out of their respective vehicles to make sure none of them were members of the task force. He fully expected the task force to show up, but hoped they’d wait until he had Kari safe inside.
“Let’s keep Kari between us,” Marc said in a low voice.
His brothers nodded in agreement.
They walked toward the doorway leading to the stairwell. He tensed every time an attorney walked by. When they were halfway to the doorway, it opened abruptly and he saw Detective Steve Young standing there.
Marc stopped, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Come on, I’ve made sure the stairwell is clear,” Steve said. “Your boss requested extra protection.”
Marc’s hackles rose and he wished he’d personally talked to Evan White about the plan. He didn’t trust anyone on the task force, and it sounded as if they all might be here.
Kari reached out and grasped his arm. “I recognize his voice,” she whispered.
“What? How?”
“I heard him yelling at his wife. It was so bad I called the police.”
Marc tightened his grip on Kari’s arm. The stunned realization hit hard.
Detective Young was the leak!
“Too bad you recognized me Ms. Danville. I was hoping you wouldn’t figure it out,” Steve said.
Before Marc could say anything, Young pulled out his gun and pointed it at Kari.
“No!” Marc shouted, diving in front of Kari and taking the shot high in his left shoulder. Searing pain blinded him for several seconds before Miles shot back, sending Young flying backward into the stairwell with the force of the shot.
“Marc!” Kari screamed, dropping to her knees beside him. “What happened? Why is there so much blood? Did the bullet go through his vest?”
“Let me see,” Mitch said, moving her gently aside. “Looks like the bullet hit him in the shoulder, just barely missing the vest. We
’ll need an ambulance.”
Miles had gone to check Young, but then made his way back over to him.
“You promised,” Marc said hoarsely, trying to ignore the burning pain. He reached out with his right hand to grab Mitch’s arm. “Protect Kari. We don’t know for sure that Young was working alone.”
“I’m not leaving you. I’m calling for an ambulance,” Kari said, pulling out her cell phone.
“Marc’s right. We need to get you to safety,” Mitch said. “Come on, let’s go.”
“No!” Kari shook off his grip. “We can’t leave him!”
“Mike will be here soon. Don’t worry.”
Marc should have known his brothers would have had a backup plan, and he could hear Kari talking to the 911 operator as Mitch and Miles dragged her toward the stairwell. He groaned and lay back on the concrete floor, doing his best to stay alert.
His last conscious thought was to thank God that Kari hadn’t been hit by Young’s gunfire.
SEVENTEEN
Kari was so mad at Marc’s brothers she could barely see straight. What was wrong with them? How could they leave him behind?
There was a gaping hole in her chest where her heart should be. And Kari knew that despite her stern lectures to herself, she’d once again foolishly fallen in love with the wrong man.
Not that Marc was anything like Vince, because he wasn’t. But he’d closed himself off to love. And maybe even to having a family of his own.
The stark realization made it difficult for her to concentrate on what was going on around her. She was vaguely aware that Miles flashed his badge and spoke in undertones to the bailiff standing guard at the entrance to the courthouse. It took several minutes, but they were eventually allowed through.
“Mike will take care of him,” Mitch said again, obviously sensing her distress. “Right now, we need you to testify so Marc doesn’t suffer for nothing.”
“There was so much blood,” she whispered, as they made their way through the long hallways of the courthouse. “I hope the ambulance gets there in time.”