Within Range (HQR Intrigue)

by Janice Kay Johnson - His Best Friend's Baby

  Five minutes.

  If any of them died, if that bastard took Jacob... Seth’s jaw ached and fear swelled in his chest.

  The deputy reported on the radio that he was turning into the driveway. He saw no vehicles, didn’t hear gunshots.

  Seth was close, flying down the narrow, two-lane country road. He got on the radio. “I’m two minutes out. Wait for backup.”

  The deputy agreed.

  Seth took the turn into the driveway at high speed, leaving on his siren and lights as he bumped up the driveway.

  He braked right beside the sheriff’s department car. The deputy was crouched behind an open door. Didn’t look young enough to be a rookie, thank God. Seth was glad to see he, too, wore a vest. After Seth had been shot while with Portland PB, he’d never slacked off wearing his on the job, uncomfortable as they sometimes were.

  “This is my father’s house,” he explained. “There was an attempt to abduct a toddler in town a few days ago—”

  “I heard about it.”

  “He and his mother are holed up here with Dad, who is a retired cop.”

  They agreed to split up, the deputy going to the front door, Seth slipping around to the side door. He held his Glock in a two-fisted grip, the barrel pointed down. The quiet didn’t reassure him; Dad and Robin would have heard the sirens and come out.

  Then he saw the door standing open, glass pane shattered, and he knew real terror.

  * * *

  ROBIN FINALLY REALIZED she was going to pass out if she didn’t breathe. What was happening?

  From the tub came quiet, hiccupping sobs, but Jacob stayed put.

  Did she dare open the door and take a look out?

  No. If it was safe, Michael would tell her. If he was dead...it wasn’t safe.

  Her hands shook. She rested the toilet lid on the vanity top but kept her grip on it.

  She had to believe Richard wouldn’t shoot through the door, risking the bullet hitting the son his ego demanded he claim. Because this was an old house, the bathroom door was a solid slab of wood, not flimsy like the one in her rental house.

  Wait, she told herself. Wait.

  If only she had her phone.

  With no clock or watch, she couldn’t see the minutes as they passed. Time felt compressed, or maybe stretched; either way, she had no sense of how long it had been since she heard anything but Jacob.

  Except suddenly there were voices downstairs, loud commanding ones. Richard, insisting she come out and hand over Jacob? No, that was an exclamation of alarm. It couldn’t be Seth, could it? How would he have known to come?

  In the act of fumbling to undo the old-fashioned lock, her fingers froze. Michael wouldn’t have had a chance to call 9-1-1 until after the shooting stopped. If he was alive.

  No, she didn’t dare assume this was a police response.

  * * *

  SETH SWORE VICIOUSLY at the sight of his father on the floor, leaning against the wall but listing to one side. His left hand was clamped to his bloody shoulder. His right hand held a gun that rested on his thighs. Blood matted his hair, and his eyes were glassy.

  “Dad!” Seth crouched beside him and gently pried the weapon from his hand.

  “I hit the bastard. He must have been wearing a vest.”

  “But you aren’t.” Should have provided one, he thought—except he’d convinced himself nobody would find Robin here.

  “Robin and the boy, upstairs,” his father grunted.

  “Gunman?”

  “Gone.”

  The deputy was suddenly there. “Ambulance is en route.”

  Seth swiveled on his heels. “Will you stay with him?”

  “Yeah, let me grab something to stop the bleeding.” He returned in seconds with a pile of kitchen towels.

  Seth didn’t holster his Glock as he moved silently up the stairs. If his father had hit his head, he could have briefly lost consciousness and not know it. If he had...

  Seth called, “Robin?”

  “Seth?”

  Relief at hearing her voice poured through him. “Jacob with you?”

  “He’s... We were in the bathroom.”

  Once he reached the hall above and saw her waiting, he wanted desperately to take her in his arms. Instead, he ordered her to go back into the bathroom while he cleared this floor. That didn’t take long. Through his own bedroom window, he saw the circus outside: four police vehicles all with flashing lights, and an ambulance coming up the driveway.

  How had the intruder made his getaway? The roads had been empty for the past half a mile or more.

  Once he had holstered his handgun and returned to the bathroom, he couldn’t stop himself from gathering woman and boy into an embrace that was probably too tight.

  * * *

  ROBIN SAT IN a chair holding Jacob on her lap, and watched Seth pace the waiting room. He hadn’t wanted to let her come to the hospital, but she’d pointed out that hiding was currently hopeless. Richard knew where she was.

  Besides, if she and Jacob hadn’t accompanied him, Seth would have had to post at least one officer to guard her at his father’s house. That seemed wasteful.

  Guilt balled in her stomach like a too-big serving of potato salad that had gone bad. Twice someone had offered to get her a soda, but Robin had shaken her head both times. She was already queasy.

  She should never have let Seth take her and Jacob to his father’s house. Now Michael was in surgery to have a bullet removed. He’d been shot because of her, just as it was her fault that a perfectly nice woman had been brutally murdered and her family left to grieve. She felt like a Jonah, endangering everyone around her. Sooner or later, Seth would notice that her life was a train wreck and get smart enough to jump out of the way.

  On his circle around the room, he paused in front of her. “You okay?”

  Robin nodded, even though she wasn’t.

  “Let me take him.” Seth bent to reach for the small boy she held.

  Sound asleep, Jacob became deadweight. Her arm had gone numb twenty minutes ago. Still, she made an automatic protest. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not,” Seth growled, and pried the boy out of her arms. Jacob’s eyelids didn’t even flicker during the transfer. Holding Jacob snugly against one shoulder, Seth went back to pacing. The sight was incongruous given that he still wore a Kevlar vest and a handgun at his hip. A man simultaneously capable of violence and tenderness.

  She had the sudden imagine of him walking the floor with his own child someday. No gun, pajama pants hanging low on lean hips, powerful torso bare as he comforted his baby by skin-to-skin contact. Patient, strong, affectionate.

  Her distress rose like floodwaters behind a dike.

  He’d be an amazing father.

  Robin had to move. Rising stiffly to her feet, she said, “I need the restroom.”

  “I’ll walk you.”

  “It’s just around—”

  The blue eyes skewered her. “You don’t go anywhere without me. Remember?”

  She nodded and let him usher her around the corner to an unoccupied restroom.

  He opened the door and verified that it was empty before he let her go in.

  She didn’t dawdle the way she might have if he hadn’t been hovering outside. Instead, they marched back to the waiting room.

  Robin perched on the same chair she’d occupied before. “You still haven’t heard from Sergeant Hammond?”

  “It hasn’t been that long.”

  It felt like forever. Her sense of passing time was definitely skewed today.

  She wasn’t certain that it was Richard who’d shot Michael, but she thought so. It was true she had barely caught a glimpse of the intruder, but mostly she was going on his voice. She knew his voice.

  Seth hadn’t argued. In fact, even before his father was
put in the back of the ambulance, he’d called the Seattle PD sergeant, asking him to locate her ex-husband.

  The surgeon walked into the small waiting room, his mask dangling around his neck. “Detective Renner?”

  Robin was on her feet without conscious thought. Seth faced him.

  He smiled. “Your father came through the surgery fine. We’ll keep him overnight mostly because of the potential for concussion.”

  A bullet had grazed his head. Michael, of course, had said it wasn’t more than a scratch.

  “Good,” Seth said hoarsely. “When can I see him?”

  Probably another forty-five minutes. A nurse would come out to get him.

  After the surgeon left as quickly as he’d appeared, Seth sank onto a chair. For once, his vulnerability showed. “God. To think Dad had to retire to get shot.”

  Robin’s guilt increased. She made herself sit down, too, but felt her whole body vibrating. “You mean, he had to meet me to get shot!” she exclaimed.

  Seth frowned at her. “He wanted to help.”

  “And look what happened,” she challenged him. “Will you let me leave?”

  “Hell, no!” he snapped, anger flaring. “Is that what you think? You’re too much trouble?”

  “I know I am!” Seeing Jacob squirm, she pressed her lips together.

  Seth jiggled her son with easy competence until he settled back down in what was obviously a comfortable embrace. “No, Robin.” His voice was a rumble, bass to Richard’s tenor, suddenly soft with compassion in contrast to the frustration of a minute ago. “We’ll find a way out for you, and we’ll do it together.”

  Looking down at her clasped hands, she nodded because that’s what he’d expect. He hadn’t said where she and Jacob would go next, who else would be at risk to try to keep them safe. When she found out, then she’d have to make a decision.

  Seth’s phone vibrated on his hip. He picked it up, said, “It’s Hammond,” and answered with a terse, “Renner.”

  When she reached for Jacob, he let her take him.

  * * *

  MORE TO KEEP from waking Jacob than because he expected to say anything he didn’t want Robin to hear, Seth walked out into the hall to take the call.

  Hammond asked first about Michael.

  “He’s out of surgery, no permanent damage. No thanks to Winstead. Did you have any luck finding him?”

  “No.” The sergeant did not sound happy about it. “I’m getting the runaround from the law firm and his housekeeper. A senior partner claims Winstead is conducting confidential business this afternoon. Housekeeper says Mr. Winstead will be entertaining guests this evening for dinner. No, she didn’t see him this morning, but she rarely does. He is an early riser and has usually eaten and left the house by the time she arrives.”

  “She doesn’t live in.”

  “She says no one does. She did admit that there is an apartment over the garage, however, and another apartment in the house built for servant quarters. She just claims neither are currently occupied.”

  He’d ask Robin about that.

  “Airplane is gone, no flight plan filed.” Hammond paused. “Anything on your end?”

  “An officer called rental car companies. Richard Winstead hasn’t popped up anywhere.”

  “So he either borrowed a car or has ID in an alternate name.”

  “I’d guess the second. He wouldn’t want to trust even a friend to keep his mouth shut.”

  “No.” Hammond sighed. “I have a patrol officer down at Boeing Field. I can’t guarantee he won’t get called away, though.”

  “Understood.”

  “Your father doesn’t think he wounded the guy?”

  “Dad says he went for chest shots. One knocked the intruder backward into the kitchen island, but he rebounded quickly, fired a couple more shots and fled. Had to be wearing a vest.”

  “Hmm. I guess he didn’t expect to face an armed opponent.”

  “That’s my take. He’d have killed Dad, but when he failed with the first flurry of shots, he wasn’t confident enough to continue the attack.”

  “Hard to explain a GSW to his distinguished guests tonight,” Hammond said drily.

  Seth felt a smile tug at his lips. “Yeah, a gunshot wound might be socially awkward.”

  Hammond sighed. “So what’s the plan?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to plan,” he admitted. “For tonight, we’ll go back to Dad’s house. If this was Winstead versus hired muscle, we should be safe tonight.”

  “What’s your gut feeling?”

  “He only said a word or two, but Robin seems sure that this time it was him. Hiring someone to grab the boy is one thing. You could claim the mother has gone on the run with him, and you’re concerned for your son’s safety. Hiring a killer is another story. From what she’s said, Richard Winstead has a major ego problem. He’ll need to kill her himself, not have it done secondhand.”

  “Can’t argue,” Hammond said, sounding weary.

  After promising to keep each other updated, they left it at that. Seth returned to the waiting room, pausing in the doorway before Robin saw him. She looked exhausted, drained, although he knew the minute she saw him she’d go back to pretending she was fine.

  His heart muscle cramped. She was beautiful to him even now, without makeup, with her hair unbrushed, without the spirit that had sparked his interest at that first meeting. He ached to see her truly relaxed and happy, teasing...or flushed and dazed with passion. The punch in his belly reminded him of how very vulnerable she was right now. He couldn’t push.

  He walked over to her, irritated when she straightened in the chair despite the sleeping weight of the boy and smoothed out the lines on her face.

  “Sergeant Hammond hasn’t found Winstead,” Seth reported, lowering himself into a chair beside her. “Seems as if he’s getting the runaround from staff and the senior partner in the law firm. He’s determined that the small plane Winstead owns is not in the hangar, though. If he rented a car when he got down here, he did it under another name.”

  “That’s sort of ironic,” she said.

  He smiled crookedly. “Yeah, it is. He could have asked for advice from you on how best to do it.”

  “Except I didn’t do it well enough.”

  Seth let that go. Would he ever have met her if her latest identity had stood up to scrutiny? “According to the housekeeper, your ex is entertaining tonight at home,” he said. “If that’s true, he can’t linger here in Oregon.”

  “Will we know?”

  “Hammond is going to call the house, insist on speaking to him.”

  “Oh.” Some of her tension slid away. “Then...then we don’t have to worry tonight.”

  He laid a hand briefly over hers, balled on the arm of the chair. “I can’t forget that he wasn’t the one who tried to abduct Jacob. If you’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Okay. That means we can’t totally relax. Once I see Dad, though, we’ll go back to the house. With some precautions, we should be fine.”

  What he’d really like was some backup, Seth thought. He wondered how soon he could get a security system installed, and whether he had to ask his father’s permission first. Probably, he decided reluctantly.

  “Tomorrow is Saturday. I can take the weekend off and then work from the house for a few days,” he told Robin. “I’ll make sure we have regular patrol drive-bys, too. I wish I knew how he got away so fast. The neighbor who heard the shots and called 9-1-1 didn’t see or hear a vehicle. Unfortunately, nobody was at home in the house to the north of Dad’s. Best guess, Winstead parked there.”

  “I know I’d have heard a car arriving. I was in the kitchen putting together some lunch. Except when I was out in back, I’ve always heard yours when you come home.”

  He captured her hand again. �
�Bet you never got that lunch, did you?”

  Robin wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been feeling so sick about what happened, I’m just as glad I didn’t eat. But when Jacob wakes up, he’s going to be miserable.”

  “Just as well Dad hadn’t eaten,” Seth commented, “considering he had to be put under.”

  Worry darkened her eyes. “I didn’t tell you he was having an attack of heartburn. I wanted to have him checked out at the ER, but he insists he’s seen the doctor about it and is on medication. Did you know about it?”

  “Hell, no!” Seth said, exasperated. “That’s Dad for you. He doesn’t want to admit any weakness. You must have caught him at a really bad moment, or he wouldn’t have told you.”

  A tiny smile lit her face. “It could be a father-son thing, you know. Here you are, the young bull in the herd...”

  He growled his opinion of that, although he suspected she saw his amusement. Yeah, she could be right. That sounded like Dad, too.

  He heard his name just then, and insisted Robin bring Jacob through the swinging doors so that they weren’t left exposed in the waiting room. The nurse found a chair for Robin, who told him to take his time.

  He didn’t need long, though. His father was surly about having to stay the night when he’d be perfectly fine at home. “What are you hanging around for?” he grumbled. “Where are Robin and Jacob?”

  “Out in the hall.”

  “For God’s sake, take them home!.” He glared at Seth. “I don’t need you hovering over me like a damn vulture.”

  Seth laughed. “I love you, too, Dad.” He sobered. “Thank you for what you did today. For protecting those two when I couldn’t.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  “I do.” Seth gripped his father’s hand. “I wanted to say it, anyway. If Robin had been killed, Jacob snatched—” Throat clogged, he couldn’t finish, wasn’t ready to say, I’d have never gotten over it. Ridiculous considering what a short time he’d known them...but still true.

  Never comfortable with talking about emotions, Dad snorted and said, “Get out of here.”

  Seth was reassured enough to do just that.