Protective Custody (10 page)

Apparently someone in that handful was one person too many.

Decision made, Carly holstered her gun and looked at Mason to whisper, “I'm going to answer the door. If I say I'm sick or something, she'll probably come back with a batch of chicken soup.”

Mason nodded.

Peeling back the curtain from the window next to the door, Carly looked out and spied a short elderly woman standing there, gnarled, arthritic hands clutching a small box. Carly scanned the area behind and noted it was clear except for the small red Ford Taurus sitting at the top of the circular drive. From where she stood, the car looked to be empty, but Carly wasn't taking any chances. Someone could be lying down in the backseat ready to pop up and start shooting as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Carly opened the door, caution making her movements slow. She kept one eye on the car and one on the woman's hands.

The woman smiled. “Hello. I'm Sandy.”

Stepping from behind the door, Carly put on her welcome face. “Hello, Mrs. Kessler. I'm Carly.” She left off her last name on purpose. “So nice to meet you.”

“Like I said, I live about a quarter of a mile up the road. I saw you drive up a little while ago and wanted to make you feel welcome. Plus, I wanted to bring this to you. It has this address on it. Someone just rang my bell and left it a few minutes ago.” She lifted the box toward Carly, who resisted the urge to step back. If it was going to explode, it would have done so when the woman handled it.

Unless it could be detonated by remote when the sender saw that the person he was after had it in his or her possession.

Hiding her trepidation, she took the package in one hand and smiled. “Thank you very much. That was very kind of you.”

“Just being neighborly.”

At the expectant look on her face, Carly thought fast. “I'd love to invite you in, Mrs. Kessler, but now just isn't a good time. Maybe after I get settled in a bit?”

“Oh, of course, dear. I understand.”

“Uh, but where do you live exactly? I might like to visit sometime.” Actually, she wanted to check out the woman's address and find out if anyone had seen the package being delivered.

Delighted, Mrs. Kessler recited the simple directions, and Carly promised to write them down as soon as she closed the door.

Once the little lady had driven off in her car, Carly shut the door and very gently laid the package on the kitchen table.

“What is it, Uncle Nick?”

The question came from Lindsey, who'd popped up from behind the kitchen island as soon as the door shut.

Nicholas glanced at his niece. “Not sure yet, honey, but I'm getting ready to find out.” He looked at Debbie. “Why don't you and Christopher go with Debbie to the safe area while we figure out what's going on?”

Carly cleared her throat. “No way, Nick. You're going with them. There's no telling what's in that package.” She studied it then drew in a deep breath. “All right, I'm guessing it's not a bomb or it would have gone off by now.”

Mason shook his head. “It's not a bomb. They wanted her to deliver it to make sure we got it.”

“Whose name is on it?”

Nick leaned over and read, “Judge Nicholas Floyd.”

Carly didn't think it was a bomb, but she still had a really bad feeling about it. “Still, we can't take any chances. We need to get everyone out of the house and call for help. I don't want to touch that thing without backup.”

Mason nodded. “I don't, either. Everyone into the safe area.”

Nick shook his head. “It's not going to kill us,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “It's a power play.”

Carly lifted a brow at his sudden statement. “What do you mean? So far they've tried to break into your house, snatch the children, kill you with poisonous snakes and possibly gas you or blow up the house if you sparked it.” Exasperated, she looked at him. “What makes you think this is just some harmless little warning?”

“Because they can't get to me.” In spite of the seriousness of the situation, his eyes warmed. “You're doing too good a job, and they can't put their hands on me—or the kids.”

“But they seem to know where you are at all times. I really don't like that.”

A frown flickered across his face. “Well, yes, there is that. But like I said, they're having trouble physically getting to me, and the trial starts the day after tomorrow. I'm betting this is where the mental anguish is supposed to come into play.”

“Mental anguish?”

“Come on, Carly, I've studied the human mind and dealt with enough lowlifes in my career that I think I've gotten the hang of reading them pretty well. Let me open the box.”

Carly sent him a hard-eyed stare. “Not a chance.”

Mason hung up his phone and said, “I've just called for backup. We need to leave again. Obviously, they know you're here.”

Nick shook his head. “No, someone's keeping them informed of every move we make.” Grief cut into him as he considered what that meant. “It doesn't matter where we go. Someone close to me is an informant, someone I'd never suspect.” He swallowed hard. “And that scares me.” He glanced in the direction of the safe area. “A lot.”

M
ason looked up from his phone. “Backup will be here in less than a minute. I'll be with the kids in the safe area. Send an officer to replace me as soon as one gets here.”

Carly nodded, and Mason left.

Nick's fingers itched to open that deceptively innocent-looking package; however, he knew they were right. He couldn't take the chance of something deadly happening when the box was opened.

Thirty seconds later, three unmarked cars pulled into the drive and Carly greeted the four men and two women who entered the house.

Nick looked at Carly. “Debbie and the kids are in the safe area.”

“Where?” an officer who looked to be about twenty-five and gave his name as Ben asked. Carly told him. “Stay with them until we give you the all clear, okay? Send Mason back in here with us.”

“You got it.”

He headed out to find them, and Carly watched a team of specialists take over the care of the package. She looked at Nick and opened her mouth. Before she could get the words out, he shook his head. “I'm not leaving.”

He could tell she was exasperated, but he hadn't gone
to the police academy because he wanted to hide behind somebody's back. The only reason he'd agreed to the marshals' protection in the first place was because of the children.

This was about him, and he wasn't leaving.

A technician X-rayed the package and looked up. “It's not a bomb.”

Nick felt a surge of triumph—and relief—that he'd been right.

“So, what's in it?” Nick demanded.

“Almost there,” the technician said. He took the paper off, revealing a small brown box that looked like it could be purchased anywhere.

“Nick, you shouldn't be in here,” Carly said. “You shouldn't even be in the same building as this thing.”

“I'm staying.” He could almost hear her molars grinding at his stubborn insistence. He looked at her. “This has to end now. We need to know who the inside person is.”

Mason had returned from the safe area and gone back to his computer. “Whoa.”

Nick saw him blanch at something on the screen. “What is it?”

“Did you know Debbie used to date a man associated with de Lugo?”

Everything inside Nick froze. “What? No, that's not possible.”

“I just got the background checks back. Apparently, she was with him when he was arrested three years ago. She was released, and nothing ever went to trial because the charges were dropped.”

“Then what's the big deal? It's probably just a coincidence. I know Debbie. She might have dated him, but she wouldn't have been involved in anything he was. Besides,
she obviously hasn't had anything to do with him since then.”

Mason's jaw firmed. “That you know of. I don't think I'd want to risk my kids' lives on that.”

Nick felt sick.

Then the technician working on the box called out, “Hey, you guys want to see this?”

Nick spun around and strode to the man's side. Carly and Mason were right beside him. Looking into the box, he felt his heart stop.

A crushed inhaler just like the one used by Christopher lay on a bed of satin—the kind of material used in coffins. Carly drew in a deep breath, and Mason muttered a word Nick had never heard him use before.

His knees went weak. Then he shoved his way through the people in the den and headed for the secured area where the kids were.

He was right about the mental anguish. He honestly didn't know how much longer he could hold on before they cracked him. The trial started the day after tomorrow. Once he began presiding, the de Lugo family would have even more reason to get rid of him. They'd want to make sure he didn't finish the trial.

His resolve hardened. He'd send the children away. He had no choice. Then he'd move home and prepare for whatever the de Lugos threw at him.

Crossing the covered walkway, he ducked into the building.

And screeched to a halt. The carpeted area held a bowl of grapes, and the television played softly in the corner.

But the rest of the room was empty.

Footsteps sounded behind him. Carly nearly careened into his back. “Nick, are they okay?”

“They're not here.”

Stepping farther into the room, she took in the vacant space. “But…but that's impossible. We sent someone back here to watch them.”

“Let's check the garage.”

She raced ahead of him and shoved the door open. “Oh, no. Lindsey! Chris!”

“Not again,” Nick groaned, agony shooting through him.

The car was gone.

And so were the kids, Debbie and the officer she'd sent back here to watch out for them.

Carly got on her radio. “Mason, the car in the garage is gone. Get someone in here now. The kids are missing again.”

Something glistened under the single bulb, and Nick stepped toward it. He bent down on one knee to examine the small drop of fluid. “Oh please, Lord, don't let that be—”

“Blood?” Carly whispered and squatted beside him. “I think it is.” She grabbed an old towel from the bench beside her and dipped a corner into the liquid. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed. “That's definitely blood.” She placed the towel back on the shelf. Then she stood, but stayed bent at the waist, examining the ground around her. “There's more over here. It doesn't look like a lot, but enough to have me worried.”

“Uncle Nick? What's going on?”

Nick whirled. “Lindsey! Where did you come from?”

“The bathroom.” She pointed in the direction of the safe area. Through the door, Nick could see the other door that led to the restroom. Lindsey's fingers twisted together. “I was in there. What's wrong?”

Nick shot a look at Carly and grabbed the girl's hand.
“They must have grabbed him while she was in the bathroom.”

She gave an agonized nod. “They picked the kid who would give them the least trouble.”

Heart in his throat, he said, “Come on, we need to get someone tracking that car as soon as possible.” To Lindsey, he said, “They've got Christopher, honey, but we're going to get him back safe and sound, okay?”

The girl's eyes went wide. Then she started crying.

As he turned to usher her back to the house, a low moan reached his ears.

Carly must have heard it, too, as she froze and shot him a look.

Reaching for her weapon, she held it ready as she approached the utility storage cabinet that leaned against the wall on the other side of the garage.

Another groan and a grunt came from it.

Nick pushed Lindsey toward the door and silently motioned for her to run back to the house. “Go,” he whispered.

She took two steps then looked back, fear for him clearly displayed on her sweet face. Not wanting to let her out of his sight, he hesitated, then pointed and mouthed, “Now.”

She'd be safer with the authorities in the house. He wasn't worried about any bad guys still hanging around. They'd gotten what they'd come for and were long gone by now.

Lindsey pivoted on one foot and raced to safety. Nick followed Carly. If someone came out of that thing with a weapon, she wasn't going to face it alone.

Shoulders tense, he watched her step to the side of the cabinet door. She motioned him to the other side. He did as she silently instructed, their actions taking him back to his police training.

He pointed to the side of the cabinet. Stained a dark red. More blood.

Carly reached for the handle, twisted it and flung the door open.

A man stumbled out and fell to the floor at her feet.

Nick breathed a little easier as he realized it was the officer who'd been sent to watch over the children and Debbie.

A gash on his forehead had started to clot, and his nose looked like it had been broken. Multiple bruises covered the left side of his face.

Carly holstered her gun and knelt beside the young man. Looking up at Nick, she tossed him her phone. “Call for help, will you?”

Nick dialed 9-1-1. He had to stop and ask for the address, and Carly supplied it while she checked the officer's pulse. “Strong and steady. Ben, you're going to be all right.” She patted the unblemished side of his face, trying to get him to open his eyes. They fluttered, and she asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Help's on the way,” Nick interrupted. “I imagine Lindsey's inside telling everyone what's going on, too.”

“Good.” She looked back at the officer. “Come on, Ben, wake up a little and tell me what happened.”

With a groan, Ben licked his lips then said, “They…um…jumped me. They picked the lock on the door or something…I don't know. They hit me with something…pushed me.” Another groan. “My head.” His eyes fluttered shut, then opened again. “They hit Debbie, too, and grabbed the kid. I…tried to stop…them…I did…” He faded again, and this time Carly let him go.

Nick watched her in action. She was very good at her job. Efficient, courageous, lovely. And in a profession that could get her killed.

He shuddered at the thought.

And Christopher. Anguish twisted through him. And Debbie, too. Two people he'd promised to keep safe. What was he going to tell Wayne? Guilt flooded him, and he had to shove away the awful images that came to his mind.

Debbie and Christopher were fine until he had evidence stating otherwise.

Noise from the door leading from the house captured his attention. A team entered the garage, and Carly said, “Ben's hurt. I've got an ambulance on the way. They've got Christopher and Debbie. There's blood in the garage. I want to know who it belongs to.”

A rapid explanation brought everyone up to date on what had just happened right under their noses. Nick's terror knew no limits.

Making his way back into the house, he and Carly left the officer to the attention of the paramedics who'd just arrived. Lindsey threw herself into his arms, and he hugged her tight. Then she twisted, launched herself onto the couch and sobbed. Carly made her way to her and clutched the girl's hand, whispering soothing words. Nick was so lost in his fear, he couldn't understand a word she said.

Instead of trying to listen, he walked into the bedroom he was supposed to share with Christopher that night and fell to his knees beside the bed.

Head in his hands, he cried out to the One who knew exactly where Chris was. “Oh, God, protect him. He's just a little boy.” Grief and fear stole his breath, and he couldn't form any more words. What had the blood in the garage meant? Did it belong to Christopher or Debbie? Who had walked right in and stolen part of his family?

“Please, Lord, please,” was all he could choke out of a throat tightened by sheer terror for the child he loved.

Behind him, he heard Lindsey's sobs fade while Carly
barked orders. “Find out how to track the car that was in the garage. We've got to find them fast.”

Nick knew what she was thinking. He was thinking the same thing.

What the crushed inhaler in the satin-lined box meant for a terrified seven-year-old boy.

 

Carly sipped her coffee and studied the flickering television set from her seat at the kitchen table. They'd come full circle. Back in Nicholas's house, they waited. For something.

A note. A phone call. An e-mail. Anything.

She pictured the scene at the safe house and replayed the last few minutes after Christopher had been snatched right out from under them.

Light, almost soundless footsteps, crossed the floor behind her. When she turned, she spotted Lindsey eyeing her. “Hi.”

“Hi.” The girl's eyes dropped to the floor.

“Nice outfit. Love the wig,” Carly teased.

That brought a slight smile as she fingered a dark tress that hung over her right shoulder. “I was going to be in a play the day we had to leave school early. I was a Roman emperor's wife.”

“I'm sure you would have done a fabulous job.”

“Yes, I would have,” the girl agreed without a hint of bragging. She was just stating a fact. “I stuffed it in my backpack as we were being shoved into the car. I just felt like putting it on for some reason.”

Probably wishing she was someone else, Carly mused to herself. Someone not even remotely connected to the case or anyone who had anything to do with it. She felt sympathy tug her heart and asked, “Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

A nod.

Carly stood and walked over to the couch and patted the seat beside her. “Come here.”

Lindsey walked around the couch and settled beside Carly, her eyes still lowered.

Carly could almost hear her mind clicking. She took Lindsey's cool hand in her own. “You're freezing.” Grabbing the blanket off the cushion behind her, she wrapped it around the girl's shoulders and waited, giving her time.

Did she remember something else from yesterday?

Lindsey sighed. “I don't understand God sometimes.”

Oh, no, not a God conversation.
“I know, honey, I don't, either.”

“But I still believe in Him, you know?”

“Your uncle does, too.”

“Do you?” This time Lindsey's eyes lifted and stared deep into Carly's as though trying to read her very soul.

There wasn't going to be any lying to this girl. Carly took a deep breath. “I don't know, Lindsey. I'm having a tough time with God right now.” She looked away and stared out the window. “I see a lot of bad stuff in my job, Lindsey. And six months ago I had a very close friend who was killed.”

“I'm sorry,” Lindsey whispered.

“Yeah,” Carly nodded and looked back at her. “I am, too. He meant a lot to me. I grew up with a great dad and a pretty cool big brother, and Hank was as close to me as they are. It was like losing a family member.” She blew out a sigh and wondered if she was sharing too much with the young girl. And yet, she didn't want to treat her like a kid when Lindsey was acting like a mature adult. “I guess it's because his death was so unnecessary and…” She gave a shrug. “I suppose I feel like God could have prevented it, you know?”