Protected Secrets

Home > Other > Protected Secrets > Page 9
Protected Secrets Page 9

by Heather Woodhaven


  “We look like off duty hospital employees.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. We look like volunteers here for orientation, and if anyone asks, that’s what we just did today. Let’s move.”

  Bruce had never noticed before that people rarely looked each other in the eye while walking the hospital halls. Delaney had no problem doing so, though. She smiled that radiant grin of hers at every person who passed, but he didn’t miss how her hand moved casually from Winnie’s back to her own waist. Someone else might have thought her lower back was starting to complain from the weight of the toddler but Bruce knew better. The outline of the gun’s handle could barely be seen under the fabric of the untucked polo shirt.

  At the corner, he strode forward to match her gait. Winnie had fallen asleep against her chest. “Let me take her,” he said softly. “I want you to be able to use two hands if you need to aim.”

  “I promise I would’ve told you if I needed more than one.” Delaney grinned and lifted Winnie into his grasp. She rose on her tiptoes and her arms slid along his to ensure Winnie stayed asleep during the handoff. Delaney looked up and her eyes widened as she met his gaze, as if she hadn’t realized before that their lips were now only inches apart. Or maybe he was the only one thinking about their close proximity, and she was startled because she could see his thoughts written all over his face.

  His stomach heated and he took a step back. “Thank you.”

  She bit her lip, nodded and resumed her stride in silence. They reached the bus stop just as the bus could be seen coming down University. “We’ll have to change bus lines in Ames once, but it should be a smooth ride.”

  “I can’t remember the last time I traveled without a phone. Is it sad that I keep reaching for my pocket, hoping it’ll be there?”

  She shook her head. “I think it’s been at least five years since I’ve gone anywhere without one.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Before that, I had a phone supplied by work, but I never carried it around for personal reasons until I was the last person without one. I hate to admit I thought it was a trend that would die.”

  “Yeah, different world now.” The air brakes squeaked and hissed as the bus slowed to a stop, but amazingly, Winnie remained asleep. “Just how early was she in your room this morning?”

  Delaney shook her head before waving him forward. “You don’t want to know. You get on the bus first. I’ll come up behind and pay. If it’s available, take a middle row, or closest to it, on the left side when you’re looking down the bus. And by the way, we’re married for this trip.”

  That was a lot of details to digest. Middle row. Left side. He stepped past her and glanced down at her hand. “No ring.”

  “Got out of the habit of wearing it when we had the baby. One scratch from the diamond, and I didn’t want to risk hurting her again.”

  She said it so easily, as if she’d given it some thought. But how could she have?

  The bus door finally opened, but he remained still. “And what about my missing ring?”

  Delaney tilted her head. “A silent protest from you until I start wearing my ring again. Now, can you please get on the bus?”

  He chuckled and began the ascent up the stairs. The bus driver appeared to be in his sixties, with a large mustache the likes of which Bruce had only seen on firefighters. “The wife is paying.”

  The driver and deputy didn’t react. She leaned past him and held out the cash for the tickets. Assured everything was going as she expected, Bruce glanced at the other passengers. In the back were several young people. Young people? Since when did he call college students young people?

  He’d never been the type to feel old until this week. Facing death and worry did that to a person. The thought reminded him of the way Nancy used to tease him about his young age. Used to. Even his thoughts had given up hope that she could have survived. His eyes burned. He needed more sleep.

  Bruce held Winnie up higher so as not to bump the edges of seats as he passed them. He sank into the middle row on the left side, as Delaney had indicated. He shifted Winnie slightly so he could rest his elbow on the armrest and leaned his head back.

  He felt Delaney sit down beside him but didn’t open his eyes, still waiting for the sting to dissipate. “I would never be so passive-aggressive.”

  “What?” she asked.

  He rubbed his forehead with his free hand before turning to her. “The ring thing. I would never react in silent protest when you were just trying to keep our child from getting hurt.”

  Her eyes widened before she crossed her legs. “Good to know,” she said softly. If they hadn’t been in danger, he wouldn’t have thought twice about the casual way she shifted to look around the bus.

  “Why’d you want me to sit here?” He kept his voice low, but there wasn’t anyone sitting closer than three rows away. “Is there a reason, or does it just happen to be your favorite place to sit when you travel?”

  “We’re going north, so this side of the bus is farther away from oncoming traffic.” She gestured forward and backward. “I have the best vantage point here with two exits to choose from, depending on the situation.”

  “So, it really is your favorite place to sit.” He should’ve known she had reasons behind her decisions.

  She turned to him and smiled. Every time Delaney did that it was like someone took a stick blender to his thoughts. Everything in his surroundings went all fuzzy except her pretty smile.

  A small snore escaped from Winnie. He moved his arm ever so slightly so she was more upright. She twisted and leaned her head more on his chest than shoulder and resumed heavy breathing. His previous questions returned with the change of focus. Except Delaney still wore a smile, this one aimed at his daughter. She had really warmed up to Winnie in the last day. He wondered what had brought on the change. Perhaps she’d liked kids all along but feared it made her look weak or less professional to show it. Maybe she was trying to take Winnie’s feelings into account and discouraging any attachment, knowing her presence in their lives would be short-lived.

  Or maybe he was the one who needed to be discouraged.

  Her forehead scrunched. “Are you okay? Holding up?”

  He wasn’t falling apart outwardly, but he couldn’t say the same inwardly. Too many feelings and thoughts demanded attention, and since he couldn’t run or get on his phone or bury himself in a programming problem, the only way to cope was to focus on the people right in front of him.

  He couldn’t tell her that, though, because the natural reaction would be follow-up questions that would make him feel and think about issues neither one of them had answers or solutions for. Bruce needed to change the subject or ask more questions about her. “Do you always lie so easily?” The question blurted out of his mouth before he could stop it.

  Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “I mean with the ring story,” he added hastily. “That came out wrong. I was just impressed with how fast you had solutions.”

  She faced forward, clasped her hands and looked down at her fingers. “I used to have a birthstone ring, an opal surrounded with little fake diamonds. I accidentally scratched a friend with it when I hugged them once. I don’t know if that can happen with all rings, but I wondered.”

  “Still. It was fast thinking.”

  “I...uh...” She cast a side glance, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

  “No. You can’t do that. Spill what you were going to say or I’ll imagine the worst.”

  She shrugged. “It was nothing. I used to enjoy improv. It’s been ages, but it was something I enjoyed.”

  “When did you do it?”

  “Not since college really. ISU had an improv club.”

  “No kidding.” He grinned. “I believe they still do. Did you ever participate in the theater productions?”

  She seem
ed sheepish, which Bruce couldn’t understand. Were law enforcement officials not supposed to have hobbies?

  “I minored in theater. It’s kind of an unusual mix with a criminal justice major, but I thought the development of a quick wit would be useful. Aside from roasting each other, I can’t say it’s really come in that handy yet, but I did act in one of the productions—The Chronicles of Narnia.”

  “Wow. Maybe that’s why you look familiar.”

  Her mouth dropped. “Seriously? We were there at the same time? Did you see it?”

  “I ran the lighting. It’s all a computer-controlled system, you know.” Man, he missed being behind a keyboard and screen. “Aside from my ethical hacking group and throwing javelin in track, serving as a theater lackey filled the rest of my free time.”

  Her features softened. “So we might have already met? Years ago? And you used to throw javelin?”

  “Let’s not say how many years, but it’s likely we met. Though even now, I don’t remember you in that setting. You must be a good singer. It was a musical, if I remember correctly.” He wondered if her singing voice was that much different from her speaking voice. “Given the cruel and unusual avoidance of all entertainment and screen use, does protection detail include singing upon request?”

  Her face turned the fiercest shade of red he’d ever seen. “Well...I haven’t done that in quite some time. Besides, I bought you a sudoku book so you’re not without entertainment. It’s in the bag with the snacks.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided my initial question. How are you holding up?”

  A level of weariness he hadn’t known existed draped over his shoulders. “Do you think Nancy is dead?” His breathing grew shallow and the emotion he kept fighting jumped back to the front lines.

  “I don’t know how bad the initial injury was, but if it wasn’t fatal, then I think she has a good chance. It only took me a minute to drive over the bridge, remember? You heard the sirens, I’m sure. The deputy marshals, court security officers and police were all on the scene. They would have secured the perimeter immediately so that by the time the ambulance reached the grounds, they could get to work.” Her hand found his and squeezed. The gesture brought him more comfort than her words. “What I do know is they wouldn’t let her go without a fight.”

  Winnie shifted suddenly and both of her little hands dropped on top of theirs, as if she was determined not to miss out on the hand hug. Delaney’s laugh was awkward enough for both of them. Bruce could feel her trying to gently slip away but Winnie was having none of it.

  “I didn’t know you were awake,” he said.

  “Are you hungry?” Delaney asked. “If your dad says it’s okay, I put chocolate treats in the bag.”

  Both female hands fled from his palm like the parting of the Red Sea. “Chocolate?” Winnie eyed him with a comically shocked face.

  “I’m going to need some of that myself, as well as one of the sandwich wraps,” Delaney said. “I suggest we all eat our fill. We don’t have much time. We’re almost there.”

  There, meaning the mysterious quiet place. If only quiet meant the same thing as safe.

  NINE

  The bus pulled up to a stop and the door opened. This time, Delaney took the lead down the bus aisle, searching through the windows. No other vehicles were anywhere near the bus stop. Given that school wasn’t in session, the college campus was relatively empty.

  Bruce, with Winnie’s little hand in his, joined her on the sidewalk. “Are we heading to another safe house?”

  “No. I believe Marshal Bradford wants to meet us at a spot with little foot traffic inside Reiman Gardens.”

  Bruce silently processed the information. “Reiman Gardens? Why didn’t you say so? Winnie loves it there. It’s a smart meeting place, really. It’s seventeen acres of fully enclosed beauty with good security. I don’t remember any cameras or anything that could be hacked.”

  She wanted to be relieved, but if the past twenty-four hours were any indication, she couldn’t allow her guard to inch down, even for a second.

  It only took a couple of minutes to enter the front door to the main building where cold air-conditioning blasted them. There was no line to pay admission to the volunteers stationed at the desk. They passed a sign that read, Iowa Police Chief Association Leadership Lecture Series. Hunziker House. Delaney glanced at the map of the gardens. The meeting place was too big of a coincidence.

  “Wow. So did your boss lead us to the safest place in town or what?”

  Delaney wouldn’t go that far, but she acknowledged the firepower and experience in one room would be considerable. “Maybe the entire state?”

  He pointed at the top of the map. “I know where the conference room is. It’s not a long walk.” Bruce said.

  “It’s also not where I was told to go.” She pointed to a trail on the map that veered through a couple of the gardens and ended up at a spot near the Prairie Vista. “We need to get here. We’ll go off the path and wait at the benches that are supposed to be behind the trees.”

  Delaney pointed to the photographs in the hallway, hoping to divert Winnie’s attention as they passed by the entrance to the enclosed butterfly exhibit. “Don’t worry,” Bruce said. “She only likes to look at them from afar. She hates bugs that have the audacity to land on her.”

  Slightly hesitant to leave the indoors, she pressed the door that led them outside. With a canvas of deep green, splashes of every color in the prism spread across the designed landscapes. They were passing by a small gardener’s shed when Winnie shouted, “Gnomie!”

  To her right, stairs led up to a statue of a bearded old man holding a yellow flower and wearing a red hat. The hat alone had to be at least five feet tall. All told, the statue must’ve been a good fifteen feet. The sign next to it read World’s Largest Gnome. Someone had used white marker to insert Concrete as a modifier.

  Bruce lifted Winnie into his arms as she tried to run up the stairs to see it. “His name is Elwood, but Winnie insists on calling him Gnomie. He’d actually be good to hide behind.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Delaney made sure no one was around before she led them onto an unmarked path. A bench was right where Bradford had described. Surrounded by trees, no one would see them without intentionally going off the path. Winnie bent over and smelled some purple bell-shaped flowers next to a sign identifying it as Summer Peek-A-Boo Onion. They settled onto the bench, but Delaney kept her senses engaged with their surroundings.

  “How do we go about getting into WITSEC?”

  Delaney spun to face Bruce. “I thought you said that you would do everything you could to avoid that.” An unfamiliar heaviness settled on her chest at the thought of him leaving for good.

  “That was before seeing Nanc—” His throat choked with emotion. A rustling of leaves sounded next to the small pond. Delaney sprang upright and stepped in front of Bruce and Winnie, placing her hand on her gun before she even thought about it.

  “It’s Bradford,” the gruff voice said before he stepped out. Admiration shone from his eyes. “I knew you’d figure out what I was talking about. I remember telling you how much I love this place.”

  “I’m assuming you typically use the normal paths to get here.” She clicked her holster closed once more.

  “Yes, but I felt the need to take extra precautions.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve only got a few minutes.”

  “I have to say I’m a little surprised you’re still a member of the police chief’s association.”

  “Oh, I’m not anymore. I’m the featured speaker.” He winked and knelt down to smile at Winnie. He presented her with a bendable stick that had a butterfly loosely attached, as if flying. “If your dad says it’s okay for you to keep it, I bought you a toy from the gift shop.”

  Winnie grabbed it and let it flutter in the breeze, flashing him a
smile bright enough to light the shaded area by itself.

  Bruce’s frown didn’t let up, though. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

  The words tickled Delaney’s ears. He’d said the same thing to her at their first meeting, but in her case, it’d been true. Apparently they’d met during college, though she still found it hard to believe she couldn’t remember him. Granted, it had been before she’d really worked at honing her facial recognition skills.

  “I get told that a lot. Take a seat.” Marshal Bradford pointed to the bench. Delaney couldn’t help but feel a little unsettled that the marshal had changed the topic without directly answering Bruce’s question.

  “Do you have news about Mrs. King?”

  Bradford’s shoulders sank and Delaney’s stomach turned hard as rock, preparing for the worst. “She survived the shooting, and we have every reason to believe she’ll make a full recovery.”

  Bruce’s breath escaped him, and he rocked forward with his eyes closed. “Thank God.”

  Delaney sent a silent prayer of thanks as well, but Bradford’s demeanor still set her on edge. “And the deputy?”

  “He’s in ICU, but we’re hoping for the same prognosis.”

  Then why wasn’t the marshal looking and sounding more positive while he delivered the news? Bradford’s lips formed a straight line. “Nancy King is no longer a witness.”

  “What?” She hoped she’d misunderstood.

  “She refused any further protection. She booked a flight to her daughter’s in Wisconsin. Says she’s ready to retire and be a full-time grandma.”

  Bruce’s face fell.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Bruce shook his head and shrugged. “I knew she would be getting ready for retirement soon anyway, but I didn’t want to think about it.” He seemed to take great interest in the leaves swaying in the trees. “I’m just sorry Winnie and I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

 

‹ Prev