“I’ll send a car,” he said. He rattled off the witness’s address. “Since this is my stomping ground, feel free to consult me as well as the chief deputy with any questions. We’re working tandem on this one. Two deputies will meet you there in an hour for transport to the safe house. I’ll send the vetting information and case briefing as soon as I have them.”
It would be the first time she’d ever served as lead on anything in the Marshals, which meant she couldn’t let Marshal Bradford down. And being responsible for someone as important as a witness who could take down the CryptTakers caused a sudden craving for chocolate. Was there still a chocolate shop on Main Street? She shook off the thought and made a U-turn.
Bruce Walker lived in an older neighborhood near Squaw Creek, where the streets were lined with mature maple trees. She gawked at the house as she slowed to a stop. Unlike the typical farmhouse architecture on the street, his was a Tudor, a gorgeous piece of architecture the likes of which she’d only dreamed of ever owning. The steeply pitched gable roof, the curved wooden door, the decorative brick on the lower half and the chimney all hinted at simpler, more elegant times.
Given the age of the house, it wasn’t a surprise the garage was unattached. A police cruiser was parked in the paved space between the garage and the house. A block away, an officer sat inside another cruiser strategically positioned at the curve, behind a twisted oak tree that jutted into the road.
Delaney braced herself. It’d been about three years since she’d been on the Ames police force, and during the last months of her service there, she’d been pregnant. Hopefully, the officers assigned to the protection detail were new recruits. She didn’t want to rehash the past or go down memory lane with anyone. She stepped out of the rental car, held up her US Marshals badge in the direction of the cruiser and strode up the curved sidewalk to the front door.
A female officer she didn’t recognize rounded the corner. “Ma’am, I’ll need some identification.”
Delaney displayed her badge and pulled out the rest of her ID. “I’ll need the same from you.”
The officer smiled and complied. “We heard you would arrive soon. I guess we’ll let you take it from here. I’ll be honest, though. I was looking forward to this assignment when I saw the cutie I’d be protecting.”
Delaney felt her eyes widen at the unprofessional admission but said nothing. If this woman had been a fellow deputy, she might’ve pushed the issue. The officer waved her forward, and Delaney knocked on the door.
When it swung open, she fought to keep her face neutral. Bruce Walker looked nothing like the older man she’d imagined. At approximately six feet tall, a good five inches taller than she was, with wavy brown hair that barely curled over the top of his ears, light green eyes and olive skin, the man couldn’t have been more than thirty-five at the most. He was the owner of the software company? That meant he was as smart and capable as he was handsome. But while certainly attractive, she wouldn’t dare refer to him as a cutie. His professional demeanor, broad shoulders and rugged good looks demanded a much stronger descriptive word.
She held out a hand and Bruce’s own hand enveloped hers. “Deputy US Marshal Delaney Patton.”
He held her fingers for a moment and tilted his head. “Have we met?”
Her neck grew hot, and she dropped the stalled handshake before she could reflect on how his touch made her stomach flip. “Not likely,” she said. The one thing she’d excelled at was remembering a face. The skill helped when tracking down fugitives but wasn’t going to help tonight when she tried to fall asleep. Bruce’s green eyes were unforgettable.
“Sorry. You look familiar to me. I—”
“Daddy!” A high-pitched squeal and thundering footsteps came from the living room.
Bruce squatted down and caught the running toddler in his arms before standing up. “This is Winona.”
“Winnie,” the little girl announced, her forehead creased in stern rebuke.
Bruce nodded. “But as you can tell, she likes Winnie for short.”
“Bye, cutie-pie.” A voice rang out. Delaney turned around to see the officer wave goodbye at the little girl. So that was the cutie she’d meant. Delaney’s cheeks heated at her mistaken assumption.
“Winnie, honey, this is Mrs.—” Bruce’s eyebrows rose and he leaned forward toward her. “Sorry. Could you repeat your last name?”
“It’s Miss Patt—actually, Deputy Marshal Patton.”
The little girl’s face scrunched up in confusion. Delaney tried to smile but could feel her face fighting against it. Seeing the girl was like a punch to the stomach. The little one had to be the same age as her daughter would be.
She consoled herself with the fact that her newborn had had dark hair and the darkest blue eyes she’d ever seen, nothing like this child’s light brown hair and sky blue eyes. Winnie wasn’t her little girl, but her mind kept drifting, wondering if the couple who’d adopted her daughter lived somewhere in town—maybe next door, across the street, ten or fifteen minutes away. So close, yet with no way of reaching her, it might as well be another country. She steeled herself to focus on the present or she’d be useless.
“I guess the official name is pretty long,” Delaney added. She’d never had to work with children before. “How about we keep it simple and you can call me Delaney?”
Winnie smiled shyly before she burrowed her face into her daddy’s strong shoulder. “Come in,” Bruce said. He turned and walked into the living room with a glance over his shoulder.
The living room took Delaney’s breath away. Thick carpet soft enough that she was sure she could sleep on the floor without a pillow or blanket, a brown leather couch with thick teal blankets adorning each armrest, a wooden coffee table covered in both nonfiction tomes and picture books, and a fireplace at the opposite end of the room. If this was any indication of what the rest of the place was like, the house could serve as her dream vacation spot. Ceiling-high windows on either side of the mantel showcased a yard with a willow tree, an oak tree, sunflowers as tall as her witness, bird feeders and a wooden deck. A hummingbird zoomed up to one of the flowers, stole some nectar and darted away.
“I’m surprised they were able to send someone so soon,” Bruce said, setting Winnie down. His phone vibrated. “Excuse me. My attorney said he’d get in touch and help walk me through this process. My company is in a very fragile state—”
So no one had let him know yet that he’d have to leave all his electronics behind. Did he even know they would need to leave, that they had a safe house waiting for them? She’d yet to see it, but knew without a doubt it would pale in comparison to his home.
Bruce held his phone up. From Delaney’s vantage point she could see his entire screen had turned blue with white letters. Don’t Open Your Mouth.
Delaney spun, assessing the windows and the exits. She locked the front door. “We can’t afford to wait for the rest of the team.” She leaned over furniture as she pulled down all the blinds over the front windows. The windows by the fireplace were without window coverings. “You have less than five minutes to grab a bag for you and your daughter. You’re not safe here.”
TWO
Bruce tried to keep his voice light, especially since Winnie stood next to him, but he struggled to keep his temper down. “I’ve spent the entire day away from my daughter. I’ve given the same statement over and over. They must’ve shuffled me around to a dozen people. The police have caught the shooter.”
Bruce didn’t even want to say Andy’s name at the moment. The less he thought about what happened, the better he’d function. Max had been their security guard since Bruce opened the company. He felt a great sense of personal loss at the man’s death, and it was all he could do to keep it together. “Can we take the panic down a notch?”
He paused as he thought about the warning on his phone. If Andy was in jail, then who’d sent the
message to his phone? Maybe it was a relative or a girlfriend wanting to make sure her man didn’t stay in prison. Though if that was the case, bringing in the Marshals to watch over them seemed a bit much. Delaney was acting as if he was in immediate, life-threatening danger. “Is there something I don’t know?”
She flashed him a look of pity, but before he could react, her pretty features hardened. “Normally, you would’ve been briefed by the Assistant US Attorney before I showed up, but we’re on an accelerated schedule. Everyone is in catch-up mode. By Monday night, I’m sure all of that will have happened, but for now, you need to know my job is to keep you safe. There is a suspicion that the shooter has ties to a very dangerous group.” She glanced down at the tactical watch on her wrist. “I’m giving you three minutes to grab what you need, or we leave with nothing and my team picks your clothes.”
Bruce pulled his head back at the ultimatum. He could challenge her, but he could already see that she wouldn’t back down. If the authorities thought Andy had dangerous allies, maybe he should get moving.
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”
Her close proximity, gorgeous blue eyes and hushed voice soothed his nerves somehow. He took a step backward and smiled at Winnie. “Honey, go get your Lovey.” While she ran for the blanket she insisted on sleeping with every night, he headed to his room and grabbed his biggest duffel bag. He darted from his dresser to the bathroom to Winnie’s room.
The severity of the situation magnified with each item he threw in the bag. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, pretend the murder and hacking attempt never happened and let the danger disappear. Though when the police had finally coaxed him and Nancy out of the server room, Max’s lifeless form was still on the carpeted floor, blood pooled around his chest.
Bruce’s limbs grew heavy, despite trying to move quickly. He couldn’t allow a murderer to walk free, and he couldn’t let Nancy take the burden of being the only witness. He had to testify.
He wanted to know which hacking group they suspected of being involved, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to know. His stress levels were already through the roof.
Delaney stepped into the doorway of Winnie’s room. “I’ve got officers waiting for us outside. It’s time to go.”
Winnie barreled into Delaney’s right leg and squeezed. Bruce blinked in surprise. Winnie never ran to strangers, and she certainly didn’t hug them.
Delaney flinched and stiffened. Winnie looked up and grinned. Delaney kept her head up and pursed her lips, as if she was about to be ill. Most women turned into putty around his adorable daughter, willing to do anything to earn more hugs and smiles from Winnie. Did the government assign him a marshal who hated kids?
Bruce dropped the duffel bag and scooped Winnie up. “You know, she’s usually slow to warm to people. This is her way of letting you know she likes you.”
Delaney frowned but didn’t make eye contact. “Yes, thank you, uh...Winnie.” She spun around and walked down the hallway to the front door while adjusting the hem at the back of her shirt. Bruce hadn’t noticed the outline of a gun before. The reality that danger might be lurking in the trees around his home caused him to squeeze his daughter tighter.
He picked up the duffel bag and adjusted his hold in such a way that the bag mostly hid Winnie from sight. Delaney nodded in approval. “We’ll have you and your daughter covered the whole way, but it’s good to be cautious all the same.” She jutted her chin toward him. “I need you to leave all phones, laptops and tablets here.”
He’d anticipated as much after the phone message, but he had clung to a thin hope that going entirely off the grid wouldn’t be necessary. He set all three of the items she’d listed, along with chargers, on the couch, but she didn’t give him a chance to think further on the matter.
“Someone will be by to pick up your phone. Hopefully we can trace that message.” She waved a hand toward the front door. “It’s time.” She stepped outside and Bruce held Winnie tight as he followed.
Two officers flanked them, walking beside them all the way to the back of a blue Ford Focus. A police officer had apparently already retrieved the car seat from Bruce’s Ram truck in the garage and installed it in the compact four-seater.
He ducked his head to squeeze inside and began buckling in Winnie. The door closed behind him and Delaney hopped into the driver’s seat. “Ready?”
He snapped his own seat belt on. “Ready. I have to say, I didn’t realize the Marshals were so interested in saving gas.”
From the rearview mirror, he could see a lovely pink shade cross her cheeks. “It’s actually my rental car. I just transferred back to the area. An official vehicle will arrive for our use at the safe house.” She pulled away from the curve of the roundabout and drove out of the neighborhood.
Winnie kicked her feet and released a high-pitched whine. Bruce leaned over and examined the harnesses to see if anything was pinching her. “What’s wrong?”
She said nothing but pursed her little lips and frowned at her shoes as she kicked rapidly again. Maybe her socks were bothering her. He had shoved her into the shoes pretty fast without making sure the seams were correct. He reached and tugged a bit on the cuffs. “Better?”
She stared at the shoes for another second before she nodded. He leaned against the seat. If only all of his problems were as easily solved as shoe discomfort. How was he going to manage staying in a safe house? Was he allowed to ask where the safe house was located or were questions like that frowned upon? Bruce wasn’t accustomed to looking or feeling foolish or uninformed. He took great pride in researching every opportunity or purchase beforehand so that he always knew what he was getting into. It applied to his personal life, too, meaning his car was always stocked with extreme-weather gear, his house never lacked flashlights and extra batteries, and he never left the house with his daughter without bringing a bag full of snacks, toys and extra clothes.
Right now, though, all his emergency preparedness kits meant nothing. Instead, he was asked to rely on a woman he knew nothing about. “So you just moved back to the area?” he asked. “Maybe we did know each other at one point.” He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about the way she moved or maybe her facial expressions...
“I used to work in the Ames Police Department, but it’s been almost three years since I was on active duty. I suppose it’s possible you saw me on patrol.”
He leaned back in the vinyl seat, the top of his head almost brushing the fabric above him. He never recalled a police officer making enough of an impression on him to remember their face, especially three years later. She’d made a point of saying active duty—did that mean she spent some time off duty but still an officer? What reasons could there be aside from health issues or a suspension? “Are you new to the Marshals?” Please say no.
“No. I’ve been working in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.”
That didn’t exactly make him feel better about her qualifications and experience. How many serious crimes could’ve happened in the Potato State? “Doesn’t Idaho have more trees than people?”
She laughed. “Not sure about that. Definitely more cattle than people, but the same could be said for Iowa.”
Fair point. “And pigs.”
Delaney took a sharp turn around a corner and his daughter giggled. A lyrical laugh escaped Delaney before she pressed her lips together in a stern line. Bruce stared at the rearview mirror and tried to make sense of the woman. Did she like children or not? Perhaps it wasn’t professional to appear happy when you were guarding people in danger.
She pulled up in front of an aging pink farmhouse. It was in the middle of nowhere—cut off from everything he was used to. Bruce purposefully lived his life focusing on the positive, but the bright side proved difficult to find at the moment. The loss of contact with his company and his employees hit him squarely in t
he chest. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to remain quiet until they stepped inside the dimly lit, musty-smelling house. He certainly hadn’t expected luxury, but he’d hoped for a place comfortable enough that he could present it to his daughter as an adventure—a holiday. It would be downright impossible to imagine they were on vacation here. Delaney closed the door behind them and flicked on the light.
“How long is this supposed to last?” Almost all of his employees had families, and Bruce felt responsible for their financial stability. He already had to forgo the sales meeting Monday that could’ve provided millions in revenue. If the company failed in his absence, their livelihoods would be threatened. It wasn’t as if he had a bunch of investors lined up to keep them afloat.
She bit her lip. “I can’t really—”
“Please.”
Her long brown ponytail swung to the left then the right as she looked around the room. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “There are no guarantees, but there is the hope that this will only last until the trial.”
“Which will be when?”
“I can’t say. It usually takes two weeks to get the Marshals involved in a case. The fact that I’m here on the same day should tell you how important it is to the federal government to handle this matter swiftly.”
Bruce’s legs suddenly felt weak. He sat down on an ugly yellow-and-brown-striped love seat. Winnie climbed onto his lap. “Are you telling me we’re being put into WITSEC?”
“No. At least, not right now. It’s not off the table, though.” A knock sounded on the door. She pulled out her weapon and peeked through an eyehole. “Friendly,” she said softly as she reholstered the gun and opened the door.
The police officer on the porch reported a clear perimeter. “We got your stuff out of the trunk like you asked.” He handed her a bright blue bag with the Marshals logo on the side. She set it down next to the couch, unzipped it and retrieved a laptop.
Protected Secrets Page 2