Undercover Mission

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Undercover Mission Page 19

by Sharon Dunn


  Mac bolted from the truck just as the sun crested the horizon and spread light around the area. He raced around the side of the house to the back and skidded to a stop. The intruder the owner had mentioned had one foot inside the window and his gloved hands gripped the molding. Mac darted forward, placed his hands on the porch railing and vaulted over it. He landed on the wooden flooring with a thud and faced the frozen figure now half in and half out of the house. “Don’t do it, man,” Mac said. “Cops are on the way.”

  His words seemed to send indecision sweeping through the guy. A pause Mac took advantage of. He lunged, grabbed two fistfuls of the hoodie material and pulled him away from the window. A heavy fist glanced off Mac’s cheek. He winced and jerked back, losing his grip. That gave the wiry figure the opening he needed, and he darted away from Mac to dash down the length of the porch, leap over the steps and head full-speed across the pasture. Mac pounded after him.

  The guy broke through the tree line and disappeared into the woods. Mac did the same seconds later, only to stop when he realized he’d lost him. Mac turned, listening, his eyes searching. Finally, he heard the crunching of underbrush to his left and headed that way, hit a patch of mud and slid almost falling. He managed to catch his balance, but a second later, the roar of a motorcycle captured his attention. After one last push through tree limbs and vines, he found himself staring at the back of a disappearing bike. He didn’t know where the trail led, but there was no way he’d catch the guy on foot. With a sigh, he gave up the chase and retraced his steps.

  When he came to the pasture beyond the tree line, he could see the woman who was, hopefully, his future boss. Isabelle Trent. She stood on the front porch, a little girl about five years old clutching Isabelle’s knee with one hand and a doll with her other. Isabelle cradled an infant in the crook of her right arm.

  Dressed in jeans, boots and a long-sleeved red flannel shirt, she had her blond hair pulled into a messy ponytail. It struck him that she looked comfortable and completely in her element. If understandably shaken.

  Two police officers faced her. One wrote notes in a little black book while the other spoke into the radio on her shoulder. As Mac approached, Isabelle’s green eyes landed on him, and the officers turned. Mac made sure they could see his hands.

  “That’s the man who came to the rescue,” Isabelle said.

  Mac relaxed a fraction. “Sorry, I couldn’t catch him. He had a motorcycle stashed in the woods and got to it before I could get to him.” He climbed the steps and stood beside her, facing the officers. “I’m Brian McGee but call me Mac.”

  “I’m Isabelle Trent. I’ve already told them who you are. I’m glad to hear I guessed correctly.” The baby in her arms yawned and closed bright blue eyes. The little girl watched him with wide gray eyes. Her dark ringlets tumbled over her shoulders and down to her waist. She had on pink pajamas and fuzzy pink slippers.

  “You did.”

  “Well, welcome to Timber Creek and the JoBelle Ranch. I’m sure it was a unique introduction to the place.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Can’t say I’ve ever had a welcome quite like that before. JoBelle?” He’d wondered about the name.

  “My husband’s name was Josiah. I’m Isabelle. JoBelle.” She shrugged. “We liked it.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “These are Deputies Grant Hathaway and Regina Jacobson,” Isabelle said. Mac shook hands with each of them. “They’re good friends of mine. Regina and I went to high school together. Grant was a few years ahead of us.”

  “We just got here about two minutes ago,” Grant said. “There was a tree across the back road that leads up here. We had to loop around and come in the main way. Glad to see you didn’t run into trouble or need any assistance with that guy.”

  “I don’t think he had a weapon on him, but I can’t say for sure. He was quick, though. Ran like a jackrabbit.”

  “We’ll need a description.”

  “I’ll give what I can, but I’m not sure it’ll help. He had a baseball cap and a hoodie on, so his face was fairly well hidden. He also had on ratty jeans and black gloves.”

  Grant took notes.

  “He had a goatee,” Isabelle said. “I saw that for a split second when he was trying to get in the French doors off the den. Then again, right before Mac pulled him out of the window, I got a flash of it.”

  “That’s good information. Anything else?”

  “Nothing that I can think of,” Isabelle said.

  Mac shrugged. “I’d agree with the goatee. The baseball hat under the hoodie was red and gold with a logo on it, but I didn’t recognize it.” He went back to the moment he’d pulled the guy from the window, the moment that had provided his best look at the man’s features. “Sorry, that’s all I’ve got for now. I didn’t even see the motorcycle for long. Just caught a glimpse as he went around a curve on the trail.”

  Another car pulled into the driveway and Isabelle shifted the infant to her other shoulder. Katie stayed put, and Mac wondered at Isabelle’s unfazed demeanor. A baby on her shoulder and one attached to her leg. It looked completely natural for her. His thoughts went to another child and pain shafted him.

  He let her voice pull him from a past he didn’t want to remember.

  “That’s Cheryl Younts,” she said. “She’s with Child Protection Services.” Isabelle gently patted the baby on the back. “Someone dropped this little darling off on my front porch this morning. I think the guy you chased either dropped her off or was on his way to come get her when I beat him to it.” She frowned. “I asked him if the baby was his, but he never said a word. He acted unsure at first. Then seemed to make up his mind and started coming toward us. He was...menacing. Scary. That’s when I ran and locked us in the house and then called 911.”

  “I’m glad I got here early,” Mac said.

  “Trust me, I’m glad, too. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn’t managed to pull him out of the window.”

  Ms. Younts stepped out of her vehicle and approached with a frown on her face. “Isabelle?”

  “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

  “I didn’t have much choice. You told me you needed me ASAP and to please hurry.” She eyed the two officers. “What’s going on?”

  Mac wanted to hear the answer to that question, too.

  “Follow me,” Isabelle said.

  They made their way back to the area near the front door and Isabelle pointed to the carrier. “I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet, but I think there’s a note in there.”

  Mac was the closest, so he leaned down and snagged the piece of paper. “It says, ‘This is Lilly. She’s eight months old and I can’t take care of her anymore. I know you’re a good mother to the kids that you have, so please be a good mom to Lilly. She’s a sweet baby and loves to fall asleep to music or have you sing to her. Thank you. Please tell her that her mommy loves her.’” He looked up. “That’s it.”

  “Lilly,” Isabelle said. “A sweet name for this little girl.” She turned to Cheryl. “Are you all right with her staying with me?”

  “Of course. You’re all up-to-date on your emergency placement status, so that’s a good thing. I’ll have to take her to the doctor for a checkup, do some other paperwork, of course, to make it all official and legal, but that won’t take me long. I can email it to you later this afternoon.”

  “Perfect. Now I just need to get the crib put together.”

  “I can do that,” Mac said.

  “I haven’t interviewed you, yet,” she reminded him.

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Have you done a lot of ranch work?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Granted, not a place as big as this one as I was working a full-time job as well, but I used to have my own small ranch before life happened. Now I’m something of a drifter, but I’m harmless.”

  “I know. Y
our background check came back clean.”

  “Well, that’s good to know,” Cheryl said. “I’ll need a copy of that for the file.”

  Isabelle nodded to Cheryl, then turned back to him. “As long as you can do the work, you’re hired.”

  Mac blinked. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that. Now, that was the easy part.”

  “Isabelle?” The husky voice caught his attention and he noticed two boys standing in the doorway. “What’s going on?” the taller one asked.

  “Zeb, Danny,” Isabelle said, “this is Mac. Mac, this is Zeb Hammrick and Danny Billings. Guys, we had a little excitement this morning. I’ll fill you in later, but for now, Mac is going to be working around here.”

  “Cool,” Zeb said. “Welcome to the ranch.”

  “Thanks.”

  Zeb looked up at Isabelle. “We’re hungry. Is it okay if I make pancakes? Ms. Sybil already left for that doctor’s appointment today, remember?”

  “Of course. I’ll be there in just a bit. And you might want to hurry a bit. The school bus will be here in about thirty minutes. Take Katie with you, will you?”

  The kids disappeared back into the house and Isabelle bit her lip while the baby snoozed on her shoulder. “That was scary, y’all. These kids have suffered enough trauma in their lives. And while Katie seems to be unaffected and the boys didn’t see any of it, they don’t need this kind of thing.”

  The officers exchanged a glance. “What do you think he was after?”

  “I have no idea. Probably money or something he could easily pawn.” She glanced at the infant in her arms. “Or the baby, maybe? I don’t know why.”

  Mac shoved his hands into his pockets and eyed the officers, then Isabelle. “Because it means he didn’t get what he was after.”

  Isabelle nodded, the dread in her eyes letting him know she understood immediately where he was going with that statement. She drew in a deep breath and raked a hand over her ponytail. “And you think he might come back.”

  Copyright © 2021 by Lynette Eason

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  ISBN-13: 9781488072390

  Undercover Mission

  Copyright © 2021 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Sharon Dunn for her contribution to the Alaska K-9 Unit miniseries.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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