Double Cross

by DiAnn Mills

  When only silence greeted them, he and Laurel moved into an adjoining bedroom and cleared it just as gunfire broke out in the hall. From the sound of the weapon, Daniel guessed it was a Tactical 12. The pistol grip and strap would make it easy to carry, and the glass-break attachment got the intruder inside. The direction confirmed he and Laurel were dealing with at least one trained shooter.

  Across the hallway was Gramps’s library. It had an adjoining bath with an exit closer to the shooter. “Cover me,” Daniel whispered.

  Laurel opened fire into the hallway, allowing him cover to the library. He cleared the room and bath, searching for whoever was after them.

  “Hey, scum,” Laurel said. “You don’t scare me.”

  Nothing. Had the shooter figured out he and Laurel had separated? The walls wouldn’t withstand a barrage of bullets, and neither could Daniel risk her getting hurt.

  She laughed. “Fields must have a new puppy. Her other dogs have gotten themselves killed.”

  A rattle sharpened Daniel’s awareness. The shooter had bumped into Gran’s shelf of breakable giraffes, and Daniel knew exactly where the person stood. He must not be wearing night goggles.

  Laurel shot three more times down the hallway, and a faint grunt met his ears. A barrage of fire from the injured man stopped Daniel from bursting into the hallway to take him down. She continued to fire, blocking the shooter’s advance and forcing him to remain in the west section of the house.

  The shooter released another round.

  The firefight stopped.

  Daniel slipped toward the bedroom where the shooter had gained access to the house. At the balcony, he spotted a figure darting out from shrubbery below, then rushing into the wooded area. Daniel inserted a fresh magazine.

  “I’m going after him.”

  “Right here. Go.”

  If he’d been a swearing man, he’d have twisted a few phrases about the condition of his wrist, especially when he encountered the thorns on Gran’s climbing roses. He jumped to the ground and followed the shooter’s path into the woods separating his grandparents’ property from a narrow creek. The trees lifted branches into a starless night where light sensors didn’t cover. He stood and listened. To his right, a single limb cracked. He didn’t move a muscle. The intruder had solid training, and that awareness put every nerve on alert. Stealing closer toward the sound, he heard the distinct whine of a motorcycle engine drown out the night sounds. Daniel rushed ahead in time to hear the engine escape into the night. Had to be Cayden.

  7:35 A.M. THURSDAY

  After the long night’s vigil with Daniel at the Hilton home, Laurel arrived at her apartment shortly after seven thirty, ready for a hot shower. Her shoulder ached too. Hungry—and furious that the shooter had escaped—she wanted relief from the weariness pelting her body. The time spent at the Hilton home had uncovered only a ballpoint pen from Almet Pharmaceuticals.

  The early morning shootout attracted cops and the FBI to an otherwise-quiet community, and she’d yanked on the wig. Within twenty minutes, the property swarmed with law enforcement types—questions and more questions. Media joined the mix, and she slipped back to avoid the cameras, even with her change of appearance. Life seemed to throw one wrench after another.

  The massive home would take a fortune to repair. Bullet holes peppered the upstairs walls along with broken glass and destroyed expensive collectibles.

  “My grandparents care more about us finding who’s committing the crimes than the cost of their valuables,” Daniel had said.

  She doubted a fingerprint sweep would reveal a thing. Not a trace of blood dripped on the hardwood there, which seemed unusual since they heard the intruder grunt. Whoever broke into the Hilton home had training and skills above her pay grade. Which said Delta Force and Geoff Cayden.

  She desperately needed a diversion and time to think. Her beloved Phantom crossed her mind. After a long nap, she’d visit him, hopefully take a ride if just for an hour. Stress had her on overload, although SSA Preston would frown on her taking the afternoon off. Daniel wanted to pick her up at two thirty in his bodyguard mode.

  Laurel pushed her thoughts aside and turned on the shower. She grabbed her comfy Mickey Mouse pj’s and a pair of thick socks.

  No sooner was law enforcement notified about the crime than a text from Wilmington came through for her and Daniel wanting to know if they were okay. Never mind how she felt about the felon. How did he learn so quickly about the incident?

  She and the dark-haired police officer were drawn to each other, but why? They disagreed constantly, sharing a pigheaded streak wide enough to scatter the strongest of fighters. Yet their playful bantering while they prepared last night’s omelets, bacon, and biscuits had been . . . easy.

  Before the prayer thing.

  Before she confessed her past.

  “You haven’t said a thing to change my mind,” he’d said.

  She believed codes and puzzles went together like ice cream and cake, law and order. This time, the situation had escalated to hurting others she cared about. She needed to harness her personal feelings, but her normal methods of control weren’t working. And she was running out of options.

  Laurel let the hot water massage her aching muscles. She grabbed the shampoo and closed her eyes. Only her bed would feel better. As she allowed the steam to fill her senses, a nudging at her spirit blindsided her.

  More than her strange preoccupation with Daniel, thoughts of tomorrow and the next day wouldn’t leave her alone. How many times had she faced death and escaped its clutches? How many lucky breaks were left?

  Miss Kathryn’s words echoed in her mind. One day Laurel would be faced with a decision, a choice of living either the world’s way or God’s. She said every person encountered a breaking point when their need for a relationship with God became real and they had a choice to make.

  The confession to Daniel hadn’t been the only thing bothering her. During the afternoon when she met him and his grandparents at the hospital, the love and unity the small family shared was more than blood or the same last name. She recognized it. Craved it. Hope. Something she didn’t have of life beyond the grave.

  In the past, she wasn’t interested in what she couldn’t see or touch. The world offered more: Love when she needed companionship. A career to give her purpose and boost her ego by making the world safe. Friends who accepted what they saw in her. But nothing filled the emptiness, a hollow black hole where no one cared.

  Maybe someday she’d find the answers.

  CHAPTER 44

  8:15 A.M. THURSDAY

  After informing his grandparents about the condition of their home, Daniel persuaded them to change hotels again with police protection and an exchange of nursing staff. Exhaustion punched his body, and his wrist stung. In his twenties, he’d have barreled through the day. Fat chance of making it through the next few hours with any logic before taking some downtime. Maybe he needed to increase his workout, build up his endurance.

  His thoughts drifted to Laurel. For the first time, he understood why she pushed him away. She believed she was unworthy of love—from God or him—stemming back to when her parents were killed and she’d been powerless to save them. Sad. She had so much to offer, but she didn’t see it. Her past only made him more determined to show his caring, fast growing into something more. After all, she didn’t refuse his offer to escort her to the stables as Krestle the bodyguard.

  When Daniel reached his temporary home in last night’s disguise, Wilmington was leaving in his Mercedes with his driver. No surprise there. The man kept strange hours. Daniel waved and waited for him to pull out of the driveway. Wilmington parked and stepped out.

  “Morning.” Daniel exited and walked his way.

  “Need anything beside a good night’s sleep?”

  He laughed. “World peace.”

  “I’ll second that. She didn’t get hurt, right?”

  Daniel shook his head. The man had feelings for Laurel, maybe even
loved her. It was evident in the way his tone changed when he spoke of her. Hard to understand, considering their history. “She’s at home resting, and we’re taking a ride out to the stables later.”

  “That horse is like your Harley.”

  “So your men have been inside my garage?” And are they responsible for the bomb in my truck?

  He shrugged. “I believe in being thorough.”

  Daniel was too tired to argue. “It’s my way to escape the pressures of life. Are you playing golf?”

  “Breakfast. Want to come along?”

  “Not this morning. I need sleep.” Daniel studied the man neither he nor Laurel could trust. Manipulation? Deceit? He smiled. “I’ll cook tomorrow. I can do mean waffles.”

  “Sounds good. Why is a bright man like you working a beat instead of a detective’s desk?”

  “First of all, I’m not bright. Just an average police officer on loan to the FBI.” He drew in a breath. “Right now this is what God wants me to do. It’s not about how many crimes I prevent or how many people I help. My significance is in being available for whatever’s needed.”

  “I see you one day as Houston’s police chief.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Get some rest. Need you carrying the flag. Two minds are always better than one,” Wilmington said. “And when God’s in charge and minds have the same goal, how can we lose?”

  He climbed back into his car, and the driver sped away.

  Daniel had an errand to finish before resting—running the fingerprints on the ballpoint pen in his pocket. He’d gotten permission from SSA Preston to take it to the police lab. Even if the original holder of the pen wore latex, leather, or fabric gloves, forensics had ways of detecting the print by matching friction ridges, the butt of a palm, the body’s natural oils, or telltale ID on the object. Criminals often preferred the tight fit of a latex glove, which over time offered more identification possibilities. If a print belonged to Messner, Cayden, or Fields, evidence piled against the threesome and made for a solid reason to bring Cayden in. He startled. Banking on a ballpoint pen for evidence and recalling experience in law enforcement revealed his lack of sleep.

  The early morning intruder had pro written all over him. Anyone who could bounce back from a bullet that fast was wearing something stronger than Kevlar. He’d read about various new fibers stronger than the department-issued body armor. Possibly Zylon. Transparent and flexible, making it easier for the wearer to move. Expensive, which meant the scammers were backed by high dollars.

  He reached into his truck for a bottle of water and three Tylenol. Where was this all leading? Doubts about Wilmington assaulted him like bullets.

  CHAPTER 45

  1:30 P.M. THURSDAY

  Daniel slept hard for three hours until his phone alarm jarred his peaceful world. He had one hour before picking up Laurel, and although he didn’t want to crawl out of bed to shower, he wanted to be with her more.

  As he forced himself awake, the thought of someone getting to her by doing damage to her horse crossed his mind. Worked in The Godfather. Pretty low blow, but Daniel would suggest housing her horse at another stable. In the middle of brushing his teeth, he texted Wilmington. If the bad guy had access to Laurel’s personal life, he’d target her horse.

  Do u have a man on phantom?

  Should have thought of that. on it

  One of Wilmington’s men would be watching Laurel and him this afternoon. Better one armed man on their side than a shooter with a nervous trigger finger. Of course, that implied he trusted Wilmington, and he didn’t.

  Laurel met Daniel at the door looking far more rested than he felt. Dressed to ride, she put purpose into gorgeous. How this woman could make it through a shootout and look this good amazed him.

  “Mr. Krestle, you look more tired than I am.”

  “I’ve been busy. The FBI lab couldn’t lift any prints other than Gramps’s from the pen.”

  “But we’re keeping at it, and it is a source of evidence.”

  “Thanks. I needed a boost to my ego.”

  They climbed into his BMW and headed out of town.

  “I checked just before you got here, and the FBI sweep hasn’t found a thing on the hospital shooter,” she said. “The blood sample will take a few days even with a rush. And the DNA tests won’t be available until the end of next week. Do these people ever slip?”

  “You and I are a pitiful case, gunshots and sleep-deprived. Yes, they slip, and we’ll find them.”

  “We’re battle scarred, Daniel. Have you talked to Wilmington today?”

  He laughed. “Have you been spying on me?”

  “I’m a good FBI agent. So you did.”

  Daniel told her about Wilmington this morning. “He’s putting a man on Phantom.”

  She whipped her attention to him. “Hadn’t thought about my stallion.”

  “Want to move him?”

  “I’ll make the arrangements this afternoon.”

  “Wilmington’s man will be watching.”

  She nodded. “I have to do what I can. The FBI doesn’t have an animal protection division. Wilmington never had a problem killing a man. He wouldn’t think twice about harming a horse.”

  Daniel reached for her hand in the car. “We’ll ride this out to see what side of the fence he falls on. My vote’s for a life sentence.” He refused to mention Wilmington’s feelings for her.

  The countryside welcomed them, but Daniel had a difficult time enjoying nature. “Are you meeting with Cayden tonight?”

  She nodded. “Wilmington says we’ll find out about the fund-raiser. I want to know how the money’s being laundered. Fields is supposed to be there too, but I don’t see how.”

  “I expect to learn she’s dead. No one could survive those wounds without medical care.” He paused. “Doctors can be forced to treat someone at gunpoint. But we don’t have any reports of missing or dead doctors either.”

  At the stables, the aroma of fresh hay and horse pulled Daniel back to the days when he and his grandparents rode horses. They walked down the long row of stalls, admiring the splendid display of horseflesh.

  “I should have asked if you rode,” she said.

  “I’m a Texas boy. Until six years ago, Gran and Gramps had a small ranch near San Antonio. Beautiful rolling acres—a lazy creek, a few longhorn cattle, a half-dozen quarter horses, and a huge log cabin. We spent many weekends and summers there. Gran and Gramps taught me how to fish, shoot, and use a bow and arrow.”

  “You learned how to hunt too? I should have guessed that with your game room.”

  “Gran can bring a deer down and grill a mean venison steak.”

  “Make sausage too?”

  “Of course. We’ve done it all. When I was four, they had a leather jacket made for me from one of our hunting trips.”

  “You had such a wonderful life.” She paused. “So did I until the tragedy. I must keep the good memories intact. Without them, I’ll grow into a bitter old woman.” She drew in a breath. “At least I’m telling myself that now.”

  At Phantom’s stall, she wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck, whispering to the animal like Daniel wished she’d do to him.

  “He’s a beautiful stallion,” he said. “No wonder you’re devoted to him. But I’ll keep my distance until he’s okay with me.”

  “I’ll convince him you’re a good guy.” She patted the stallion’s neck. “I’ve always called him my boyfriend.”

  “How can a guy measure up to a white stallion who can do no wrong?”

  “That’s the point.” She laughed.

  Daniel helped her saddle Phantom the best he could. Between his wrist, her shoulder, and an awareness of a stallion’s temperament—they were clients for a nursing home.

  “I need a horse to ride,” he said.

  “Phantom is buddies with a gelding.”

  “Perfect. No repeats of the last time you rode alone.”

  “As if you could stop a sniper.�
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  “We have an extra pair of eyes, remember?”

  She nodded. “True. Let’s get one of the hands to saddle you up. I don’t want to attempt it again.” She disappeared to the office.

  When a mount was ready, the two rode out into the pasture. Dazzling sunshine met them, along with trees still green. But the cooler temps marked Daniel’s favorite time of the year. He pointed to a couple of squirrels scampering over branches but saw her distraction. “What happened back there?”

  “I’m thinking before I spill my guts.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “We can work through it together.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze stayed fixed ahead. “Probably need to record that. Might never hear it from me again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “The stable hand told me a man stopped by last week and requested information about Phantom. Said he wanted to make an offer on him.”

  Daniel wasn’t surprised and didn’t think she was either. “Did he leave contact information?”

  “No. Asked for mine and got it.”

  “Description?”

  “Bald and muscular.”

  “Not good, and no one meeting his description has crossed my path,” Daniel said. “Glad you’re having Phantom transferred until this is over.”

  “Me too. This has gotten way too personal.”

  “Would you like to take a walk around the pond?”

  They dismounted and made their way through thick grass. “I do fish,” she said. “Miss Kathryn used to take me. Never mind how I felt about slimy bait and cleaning guts. She gave me her favorite cornmeal breading, forced me to fry ’em up.”

  “You’re kidding. I see a fishing trip in our future.”

  She stopped. “Are you sure?”

  He understood exactly what simmered beneath her words. “Any girl who can clean and fry fish hits the top of my list, especially one who can also use a gun.”

  Her cheeks flushed, or was the color due to the afternoon sun? Whatever the reason, he enjoyed it very much. Daniel stepped closer, his attention on her nut-brown eyes, her flawless skin. He wanted to kiss her. But that would risk a bullet in both of them. Instead he backed up.