Fatal Response

by Jodie Bailey

  Erin opened her mouth, closed it, couldn’t compute what Jenna was saying. He’d been concerned for her, angry for her. Right?

  “I can guess how it all went down, sweets.” Jenna shook her head, her eyes far away as though she was seeing something Erin couldn’t. “He had a stroke and you had to take care of him, crutches and broken ribs and all, because it was all your fault. Didn’t matter he’d never bothered to take care of himself. Didn’t matter he’d never followed his doctor’s orders. It was your fault, therefore you had to fix it. You had to give up everything so he wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything.”

  Erin sank into the chair, her mouth open. “It’s not like that.” The protest was weak, almost drowned out by the pounding in her head.

  “Oh, yes, it is.” Jenna knelt in front of Erin and took her hands between her own. Her touch was warm, her grip firm, her eyes serious. “Nothing’s changed. I’ve watched you knuckle under for years. Seen you sacrifice every dream you have. You want to join a bigger department? Can’t. You want to paint again? Can’t. You want to have a family of your own? Can’t. He has you believing you owe him. Real fathers don’t treat their daughters this way.”

  “You’re wrong.” Erin’s voice was stronger as she stood. He was her father. He loved her. Jenna didn’t understand. No one did. “Why would you say that?”

  Jenna stood abruptly and looked at the office door.

  Before Erin could process her actions, she turned and found herself face-to-face with Jason in the small space. Wyatt stood behind him.

  The shock drove her two steps back, and her hip collided with the desk. The room was already impossibly tiny, but Jason seemed to fill every bit of it.

  And she’d been right about the uniform. He filled it out as though it were cut just for him. He wore it with an air of authority and confidence that stole her breath.

  But his expression stopped her cold. His blue eyes were intense, and the instant they found hers, there was no doubt.

  More trouble was headed her way.

  * * *

  Everything Jason needed to say evaporated the instant he stood before Erin, lost in a haze of what used to be. Her eyes had run from the top of his head to his desert boots, and there’d been a flash of the old her, the one who’d lit his battered heart. It turned out she still had the power to warm the hidden crevices he’d buried over years of brutal deployments, and the emotion almost knocked him back into the hallway.

  But as soon as her gaze caught his, the fire shifted to fear and jerked him into the present reality. He wasn’t allowed to feel for her, not when it could cost them both everything. She was in danger...and the news Wyatt had delivered amped the need to throw all of his resources into keeping her safe.

  He started to reach for her to ensure her focus but stopped. His heart had already set his feet on a path toward something that would end with him destroyed once again. She was his mission, nothing more.

  Someone was dragging her in deeper and she deserved to know. He let his hands fall to his sides, his fists clenched. “We need to talk.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. Then her attention fell to the rank on his chest. “Why are you in uniform?”

  Not the question he’d expected. It derailed his planned speech. “I... They called the unit in for a video teleconference with all of the soldiers attached to us on our last deployment to brief everyone on the latest.” The conference had yielded nothing new. No one else had been killed, but the quiet didn’t ease the deep worry on the faces of the men in the room with him or on video from around the world. Dozens of men who had been boots on the ground with their unit or who had supported them with intel and supplies. Although only his direct platoon had been hit so far, no one was truly safe.

  “They’re still pursuing the terror-cell aspect.” He’d called Major Jackson aside and told him about the boot prints at Erin’s house, leaving it to the chain of command to decide how to proceed with the information. It could be a red herring...or it could be condemning evidence pointing toward one of their own as a traitor.

  That was the least of his immediate worries. As Wyatt slipped past Jason into the crowded room, the motion edged him until he stood looking down at Erin, only a couple of inches separating them.

  She watched him with haunted eyes. “They told you something at your meeting. Something to say what’s happening to me is only going to get worse.” Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, a gesture he recognized. The truth was sinking in and Erin was more afraid than she’d ever let on.

  “It wasn’t the meeting.” He had to fight his own muscles to keep them from reaching for her. His jaw ached from the tension, and he shifted it back and forth before he could speak. “It’s something Wyatt found.”

  Erin’s attention shifted to her cousin, though she didn’t back away from Jason. “Tell me.” Anyone who didn’t know her the way Jason did would think the bravado was real, but it was as fake as the counterfeit money his platoon had once found in a shipping container in Mosul. Her eyes, her stance, the tautness of her voice... Reality was setting in.

  “After you got back from the hospital, I had a hunch. Botulism isn’t something you see every day, and nothing in your house would indicate it could be a problem. So I...” Jason’s expression grew almost sheepish before he reset his no-nonsense soldier face and continued. “I had Wyatt take the trash from your house in order—”

  “You did what?” Erin’s voice pitched to an impossible level.

  “Wyatt.” A woman Jason hadn’t even noticed straightened from where she’d been standing in the corner farthest from the door. Her dark purple hair hung to her shoulders, and she eyed Wyatt with a wary gaze. This must be Jenna. “Who steals someone’s trash?”

  The tension between Jenna and Wyatt was almost physical. He didn’t even acknowledge her, simply kept his attention focused on Erin. “Someone who doesn’t want to see his cousin dead.”

  The words rocked Erin backward and she sank to the corner of the desk.

  Jenna sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You couldn’t have said it with a little more tact?”

  Wyatt ignored her. “I called in a favor from a buddy who’s an independent analyst and sent him the packaging for the food your father ate before he landed in the hospital. I trust what he found.”

  This was the moment when Jason wished he could grab Erin and run out the door with her, take her somewhere none of this could touch her. Where he could protect her. Because the fact was, he couldn’t. What Wyatt was about to say proved it.

  The air was heavy with expectation, but Erin said nothing. She simply watched Wyatt. A slight tic in her jaw betrayed the truth behind her quiet demeanor.

  “There was botulism in the cake-roll package. As for the drink can, there was a small needlelike hole at the top seam. He’d have missed it if he hadn’t been looking for it. Big enough to let someone inject the can, small enough to prevent a leak unless someone was really trying to get something out of it. The inside of the aluminum tested positive also. No way the botulism occurred naturally, not in two separate packaged sources. Somebody put it there.”

  “Which means somebody was not only watching my house, they were actually in my house at some point.” Erin’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. It was as though she’d detached from the information and was discussing a stranger.

  Jason hated when she turned inside herself, when she pulled away and prepared to go to the mat all by herself.

  She couldn’t this time. This was more than working through the sights and sounds of a traumatic accident. This was her life.

  Jason squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again, letting his gaze drift to the window into the shop, inspecting customers, searching for anyone who might be out of place.

  Because someone had gotten close enough to know her habits, her routines, her weakness for Pepsi and snack cakes. Someone had set a
trap designed specifically for her. They could be anywhere right now. The fire station. Her car.

  They’d gotten close enough to spike her food, had managed to get into her house even though her father was always home. They could do it again.

  He needed more eyes on her, but with the boot print at her house, Jason wasn’t sure who he could trust. The men he’d gone into combat with, had suffered and grieved with... One of them could be a killer.

  A very cunning killer.

  The truth cut worse than any bullet.

  Motion drew him back into the room. Erin stood, shrugging Jenna’s arm from her shoulders. “I need a minute.” Without making eye contact, she brushed past Jason and out the door, hanging a left away from the main storefront.

  Jason turned to follow, but Jenna pressed a hand against his chest. “Let her go.”

  Jaw tight, he eyed the woman who’d stepped between Erin and him. He didn’t know her, and she didn’t get to tell him what to do, not when it came to Erin. Gently, he pulled her hand away from his chest and stepped around her into the hall just as the exit door at the back of the building slipped shut.

  Erin was leaning against the aged brick wall, staring at the back of the camping equipment store across the small alley. Her expression was blank, though she turned to shoot Jason the evil eye when he took up a position against the wall beside her.

  He couldn’t blame her. “You shouldn’t be out here. Not by yourself.”

  She puffed her cheeks and exhaled, her breath visible in the damp, chilly air. “I needed a minute to myself. I doubt anyone is skulking around town this time of day.”

  Chances were high that whoever was targeting the spouses in his unit wasn’t pulling back, even in downtown Mountain Springs in the middle of the day. The brazen attack on Erin at the hospital was a pretty good indicator.

  She probably didn’t need to hear that right now, though, not when she was trying to assimilate the fact that her father had fallen victim and the killer had been in her house. She’d figure it out soon enough.

  “What now?” Her voice was quiet, resigned.

  If he had his way, what now would include pulling her to his chest and letting her rest there in a place where she could safely fall apart instead of building taller walls around herself. Even when they were married, she’d only allowed herself that luxury a few times. Now? The chances were impossible. She’d just keep stuffing the fear until she blew.

  He just hoped he’d be around to pick up the pieces when she did.

  “What now?” Jason took the tactical approach to the question. It was the answer she was looking for anyway. “Wyatt and I have talked. He’s on night duty right now. I’ll take point on keeping an eye on you, and he’ll cover for a few hours when he can so I can get some sleep.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to her. “You won’t be left unprotected.”

  “So this is my life now? Twenty-four hours a day, forever? Somebody watching me? You go back to work eventually, and Wyatt can’t keep that kind of schedule up forever. Then what? You’re asking me to live like I’m under house arrest. And, Jase, if we get a big fire call, do you plan to follow me into the building?” She tapped her head against the brick, eyes on the sky. “Something has to give. You can’t ask me to live like this for the rest of my life.”

  “Not the rest of your life. Just until we catch whoever is doing this. That should be soon, because with the way he’s willing to strike in the open during the day like he did at the hospital? He’ll slip up soon.”

  “Assuming there’s only one person. You said it could be a terror cell, and that implies an army of men who are ready to—”

  “One thing at a time, kiddo.” This time, he did reach for her, slipping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his side, then resting his cheek on her head. “Don’t go borrowing trouble.”

  He expected her to pull away.

  She didn’t.

  Instead she sighed and seemed to sink against him, apparently willing to let him carry her burden for a moment. “How did they find me? You and I aren’t linked anymore. What made them come after me?”

  Fighting to keep his shoulders from stiffening, Jason merely shrugged. He had his suspicions, and they revolved around several things he’d done over the years since he’d left. The last thing he wanted Erin to know was he’d held on to a slim tie to her. She’d misunderstand his motives, might even accuse him of trying to win her back, even though none of that was important right now.

  When he’d joined the army and filled out his paperwork, he’d made Erin the beneficiary of his life insurance. At the time, it had been because he couldn’t think of anyone else. But over the years, he’d left it, hoping that if something happened to him, it would give her a way to separate herself from her father should the need arise.

  With rogue hackers busting into government databases and offering the information they stole to the highest bidder, anyone could have access to all sorts of personal information for every soldier in the army, including the names, addresses and Social Security numbers of their beneficiaries.

  “You’re quiet.” She eased away from him and turned to face him. “What are you not saying?”

  “Nothing.” He had no proof, no good way to tell her what he’d done.

  No good way to say that his plan to protect her might be the very thing that got her killed.

  TEN

  Erin stood in the doorway of the bay and stared at the fire trucks she wasn’t allowed to touch.

  On his way out the door, Chief Kelliher had aimed a finger straight at her. I came in the other morning to trucks polished so shiny I could hardly look at them without going blind. Not tonight, Taylor. Get some rest.

  Clearly, he didn’t understand the only way she could silence her brain was by making chrome shine. Her first night back at work and already—half an hour in—there was no doubt it was going to be a long one.

  While she didn’t want any calls indicating tragedy for someone else, if she had to stay here all night in the deep silence with her own thoughts, she’d lose it. They’d find her scrubbing the roof tomorrow morning with a toothbrush.

  There had to be another way to find a distraction. She’d double-checked the doors and windows a dozen times, had thrown away her stash of junk food, and had made a gigantic pot of soup from veggies Wyatt had bought and never let out of his sight...

  Because she had to guard her food now.

  She’d hidden in Jenna’s bathroom for fifteen minutes after talking to Jason, trying to pray down the fear. Letting herself lean into him had cracked something around her emotions, and they fought back hard. She’d never had a panic attack before, and she’d always wondered what would push her over the edge. Now she knew.

  There was no way to deny it. Whoever wanted her dead knew everything about her, from where she worked to where she lived...to the junk food she preferred. Someone had built a twisted file filled with ways to end her life.

  Her stomach twisted around the food she hadn’t eaten today. How had she landed here? On some killer’s hit list with her ex-husband and her cousin as protection?

  Jason had left Jenna’s to get some rest, leaving Wyatt to escort her to the fire station. Her cousin was on shift with the police department now, which meant somewhere, in the growing darkness where she couldn’t see, Jason was watching. Erin kept her feet rooted to the floor to keep from peeking out the window.

  What would her father do if he figured out Jason was still around?

  Jenna’s words rang in her head. They wouldn’t stop dragging out images of her father, of how he talked to her, of how he never seemed to be there when she needed him. It was as though her world had been out of focus and Jenna had shoved eyeglasses on Erin’s face, bringing a clarity she didn’t want.

  But Jenna had to be wrong. Parents loved their children. Her father ha
d a gruff way of showing it. Besides, she had to honor him, to respect him. Erin had sat in church with her mother. She’d gone to Sunday school. She knew how the Bible worked. Children honored their parents. Period. Jenna was simply coloring Erin’s life with her own past experiences, whatever they might be.

  But she couldn’t excuse the way her father had treated Jason at the hospital or spoken about him at the house.

  If she knew Jason, he was sitting in his truck, freezing, with a pack of peanut butter crackers and a Mountain Dew as fuel.

  He deserved better.

  The thought of inviting him into the very room where they’d spent hours talking and watching TV in the past made her heart pound a little harder. Though if she was being honest, it was already working its way into the danger zone.

  All she was doing was feeding the guy dinner, giving him a thank-you for having her back, even for mowing her grass.

  She’d keep it light. Even though a huge chunk of her wanted to spend hours asking him a million questions about how he’d spent the past eight years, Erin wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t fall into even a friendship with him again. When the culprit was caught and Jason was gone...

  She wouldn’t be free to go with him. She would never be free to go with him.

  She pulled out her phone. Come inside for a minute. That ought to bring him in. If she’d told him she wanted to feed him, he’d have probably opted to stay in the truck.

  When she opened the door, Jason stood on the other side wearing jeans and a black windbreaker, his hair slightly rumpled as though he’d awakened a few moments earlier. It was a familiar sight and brought back too many of the wrong kinds of memories about a man she was no longer married to.

  He didn’t notice her struggle with flashbacks. Instead he stepped inside, his eyebrows drawn together as he tried to see past her into the building. “Everything okay?”

  “I made coffee and soup. Figured you’d want real food over the Mountain Dew and crackers you’re hoarding in the truck.”