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Authors: Lynette Eason

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BOOK: Protective Custody
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Nick came down the stairs looking like he hadn't slept. He probably hadn't. “Good morning, Nick.” She walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. “Have you decided what you're going to do?”

His warm hand reached up and squeezed her fingers. In spite of the situation, she shivered. She pulled her hand away. He sighed and said, “I'm not sure yet. I'm going to the courthouse. That was Wayne. He and I have something we need to discuss.”

“All right, I'll meet you there. I've got a little errand to run.”

He frowned. “What kind of errand?”

She frowned and bit her lip. He wanted to talk to Wayne. That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Would warning him away from the man do any good? “I'm investigating that hunch I was telling you about.” One that involved his friends.

Nick glanced at his watch. “And you still won't tell me?”

She paused, thought about it, then sighed. “I won't be long, I promise. I'll just be about fifteen minutes behind you and Mason. Lindsey is going to be covered by one of the FBI agents, so everything is all set, okay?”

He nodded, but and the look in his eyes said he didn't like the fact that she wasn't telling him everything. Still, if she was wrong, he didn't need to know what she was thinking.

If she was right… Well, he would find out eventually.

But should she tell him now? After all, it was his nephew who was missing. And he was headed to the courthouse, to seek out the very man she suspected knew a lot more than he was telling.

She hesitated, then decided she couldn't walk out of the
door and send him to the courthouse unarmed. “Do me a favor and stay away from Wayne Thomas, will you?”

Pulling up short, Nick frowned at her. “Wayne? Why?”

“He's my hunch.”

Nick laughed. “You're way off there, Carly. Wayne's my best friend and has been for years. He loves Christopher and Lindsey almost as much as I do. He just called, in fact, to see if there was any news.” Sobering, he added, “And remember, one of the people snatched was his daughter. You need to look elsewhere.”

“That's why I didn't want to say anything. I'm not sure, and I want to check it out.”

“You're wasting your time, Carly,” he insisted. “Leave Wayne out of this.”

“We've got to cover all the angles, remember?”

Nick's nostrils flared. “I'm telling you that's one angle you need to leave alone.”

Carly's shoulders stiffened. “Are you telling me how to do my job?”

“I'm telling you that you're wrong, and I want you to leave it alone. You looked into Debbie and Wayne already, and they turned up clean except for Debbie's former connection to a de Lugo relative. A mistake she corrected as soon as she figured out he wasn't a straight-up guy. Now you want to continue to investigate the man who stood by me when my wife died, who encouraged me to move to Spartanburg to give the kids a new start? A man I trust with my life?”

By the end of his outburst, his chest heaved, his anger crystal-clear.

Hurt at his lack of trust in her skills and her intuition, her desire to do everything in her power to find Christopher, she simply sighed and said, “Yeah. And while you think it's
a mistake, I think I'm doing the right thing. If I'm wrong, I'll apologize. But this is my job, so let me do it.”

Nick simply glared at her for a few seconds, then spun on his heel to exit the room.

Heart aching at his obvious distress, she wondered if she should just drop it. But the intuition he'd shot down in his tirade raised its head and demanded action.

She pulled out her cell phone and placed a call to her boss, explaining the situation. He said he'd have backup headed her way, but gave her permission to carry out her plan. And to use Catelyn in it.

Five minutes later, she'd acquired a vehicle via one of the agents and set off on her “errand.” Five minutes after that, she had Catelyn on the phone.

“Can you meet me at this address?” Carly rattled it off.

“Um. Yeah. I'm on the tail end of a report, but I can head that way in about three minutes.”

“Great.” Excitement pounded through her at the thought of finding Christopher—and Debbie. “Oh, and can you call the alarm-system company and tell them whatever you have to to get it shut off? I want the element of surprise on my side. Also, bring backup with you. If I'm right, we're going to need it.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And wait outside the gate until I tell you to come in.”

“O-kay.” Catelyn drew the word out. A slight pause. “You are going to explain all this to me at some point, right?”

“Yes, I promise. I just need you as backup in case I'm right—and I'm pretty sure I am.”

Ten minutes later, her fingers clutched the steering wheel as she made her way to the property. Her one issue was the gate. She didn't want to announce her presence until
she was ready, so she had to figure how to get in without anyone spotting her. She had the right to enter, as she had probable cause to suspect someone was in danger.

If she was wrong, she'd face the consequences like a big girl.

The wrought-iron gate came into view, and Carly parked off the road to the side. She'd also have to be careful of any security cameras. If they were on a separate system than the alarm system, they would still be active.

Five minutes later, Catelyn pulled up. Carly's brother, Ian, sat in the passenger seat.

Climbing out of the vehicle, Carly greeted her brother with a hug and a promise to catch up later, then said to Catelyn, “I need to hurry. Mason is at the courthouse with Nick, and I promised I'd be right behind them.”

“What happens if you run into trouble? How will I know?”

“She won't run into any trouble,” Ian growled. “I'll be right behind her.”

Carly lasered her brother with a glare. “You will not.” Then she softened. “But I'm glad you're part of my backup. You'll have to tell me how that happened later. As for how you'll know if I'm in trouble…” She thought about it. “Call me in fifteen minutes. I have my phone on vibrate. If I don't answer, send in reinforcements.”

“Got it.”

Carly left Catelyn, Ian and the other arriving officers and made a slow tour of the perimeter of the fence. The house sat at the top of horseshoe-shaped drive. Thankfully, there weren't any dogs.

Carly finally found a spot where she could safely scale the fence. The back of the house nudged up against the woods. Several cut trees lay against the fence as though waiting to be hauled off.

Perfect.

Placing one foot on the wood, she carefully launched herself up and over the fence. Skirting the cameras she noticed on each corner of the house just in case, she made her way to the nearest window. The drapes had been drawn, but there was a crack, and she could see in. The den was empty, but the light was on.

Slowly, she moved toward the next window. The kitchen.

The parted blinds allowed her a partial view of the breakfast table. An older lady sat at one end, but she couldn't see if anyone occupied the chair at the other. Then a small hand reached for a piece of toast, and Carly caught her breath. Christopher.

She was right. But who was with him?

A cold, hard object pressed against the back of her head, and she froze.

“Well, well, so you aren't as dumb as I figured.”

“And you, Debbie Thomas, deserve an Oscar.”

FOURTEEN

N
icholas rode in silence to the courthouse. Two police cars followed behind, one ahead. They weren't taking any chances making sure he got there in one piece. A fact he appreciated, but he couldn't help wondering what Carly was up to. She'd asked him to stay away from Wayne.

A ridiculous request in his opinion, but now that he was thinking clearly, he was able to wonder what kind of information she had that she needed to check out.

He gave himself a mental slap. If he hadn't reacted so strongly, so emotionally, he might have asked her what kind of evidence she had that made her suspect Wayne. And now she was going off and checking something out.

She would possibly be in danger.

His heart ached at the thought of her being hurt. The fact that he could lose her sent stabs of fear through him, and he realized with some amount of shock that losing her might be something he wouldn't be able to recover from.

He also realized he was thinking of a future with Carly—and with Christopher. He couldn't think of one without the boy. The lump that had been in his throat ever since he'd learned of Christopher's disappearance seemed to swell, blocking his air.

He gasped, and Mason looked at him. “Are you all right?”

Nick shut his eyes for a moment and swallowed, trying to force the lump down. It didn't go far. “Just thinking about Christopher.”

Understanding flashed on the man's face. “Yeah.”

“Do you know what Carly found out?”

“No, she didn't tell me. Said if she was wrong she just wanted to let it drop.”

“I should have asked her why she suspects Wayne. Instead, I went off on her. But she's wrong,” Nick insisted. “Wayne wouldn't have anything to do with that. I mean, why kidnap his own daughter? It doesn't make sense.” He frowned. “Still, if Carly suspects Wayne, isn't that dangerous, investigating that on her own?”

Mason gave a laugh. “Yes, but that's Carly.” Compassion lit his gaze as he saw the worried expression on Nick's face. “She'll be careful, and she won't be alone. She's got backup.”

“So, she does this kind of thing on a regular basis?” He could lose her.

The shaft of pain that bolted through him stunned him.

Mason sighed. “Look, Nick. Carly is good at her job. Yeah, she had a rough spot for a while when Hank was killed, but she doesn't have a death wish. She's careful and she's good. She'll be fine.”

Nick wanted to believe that. With everything in him, he did. But could he?

He had to. Just like he'd entrusted Christopher into God's capable and loving hands, he realized he had to do the same with Carly.

Please, Lord, watch over her….

And then there was the trial. The heaviness he'd carried
on his shoulders since learning of Christopher's disappearance seemed to triple in weight.

Oh, God, I need Your help, Your guidance. Show me what to do today. I still don't know whether to recuse myself or sit on the trial. I know You're a God of justice, and I feel like You've placed me where I am today to help carry out that justice…but, God…Christopher. Can I really follow through with this knowing they'll kill him?

And with a clarity that startled him, he knew he couldn't.

I can't do it, God. I can't. If I sit on that trial and they find Christopher's body, how would I live with myself? I would feel like a murderer. How can You ask me to do this?

The prayer was silent, but the cry echoed in his heart and mind like a shout over the Grand Canyon. For the first time, real anger stirred past the fear, and Nick had to exert serious effort to tamp it down, reminding himself of God's promises, His steadfast love, His plans known only to Him.

“We're here.”

Mason's voice cut into his prayers. Taking a deep breath, Nick waited for the marshal to come around and open his door. Police cars waited on either side of him.

They were waiting for him to exit the car so they could safely escort him into the building. The darkness of the parking garage pressed in on him. It angered him that he felt like he needed to look behind every car and cement pillar to make sure no one lurked, ready to shoot or jump out at him.

Squaring his shoulders, he released his seat belt and patted the BlackBerry that had been returned to him. Protection would continue throughout the trial and as
long as the threat existed. He hoped that threat would be nonexistent after today.

Please, God, tell me what to do. I can't put Christopher on the line. How can You?

“For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you, not to harm you….” He whispered the verse out loud.

Mason opened the door, and Nick stepped out. His phone vibrated, and he saw that Wayne was calling.

Following Mason as the man crossed the parking garage toward the elevator, Nick noticed two police officers following close behind.

He hesitated, Carly's words ringing in his ears. Then he cleared his throat and answered his phone, “Hello?”

“So, what's the verdict? Are you going to do the smart thing and let me preside over this trial? I'm here and ready to step in.” Nick froze.
Are you going to do the smart thing? Are you going to do the smart thing? Are you going…

His breath left him.

“Nick? Nick? Are you all right? You need to keep moving. You can't just stand here in the garage. It's not safe.” Mason's voice seemed to come from the end of a long tunnel. Nick blinked, fury rising up in him. He took a deep breath.

“I'm fine.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, Wayne, let's talk.”

“I'm in my chambers.”

“I'll be there in less than a minute.”

Nick's footsteps echoed back at him as he hurried down the hall, Mason trailing behind him. He ignored the man's command to slow down. Rage thundered through him. He had to know…

Rounding the corner, a sudden thought occurred to him,
and he did a one-eighty. Mason pounded along beside him. “What are you doing, Nick?”

“I need to get something from my office.”

“All right. But I can tell. You're up to something.”

“I need to talk to someone.”

Nick knew his words were clipped. He wasn't keeping Mason in the dark on purpose; he just wasn't finished processing what he suspected.

Without stopping, he shoved open the door to his chambers and waved Jean down as she popped to her feet.

“Good morning, Nick.”

“Morning.” Never breaking stride, he hit the door to his inner chambers. He went straight to his desk, yanked open the top drawer to his right and pulled out what he'd come for. He slipped the device into his suit coat pocket and whirled back for the exit.

Mason once again shadowed Nick's footsteps. “Nick, if you're going to see Wayne, I need to ask that you not do that. Not until Carly finishes looking into whatever it is she's looking into.”

“I don't have time to wait on her. I'm going to get to the bottom of this myself.”

Mason placed a hand on Nick's shoulder and brought him to a halt. Narrow-eyed, the marshal told him, “I can't let you do that.”

“You can't stop me.”

“It might not be safe.”

“I'm willing to take that chance. You don't have to come with me. In fact, as of this moment, you're off the case.”

Mason snorted. “Right. If you're dead set on doing this, you'll need someone to have your back.”

Nick stopped, looked the officer in the eye. “Thank you.”

The marshal's shoulders lifted in a resigned shrug,
and Nick felt a twinge of guilt. Was he putting Mason in danger? He couldn't do that.

“No. If I'm acting irresponsibly, I can't put you in harm's way. You stay out here.”

A laugh erupted from Mason. “As if. To borrow your line, you can't stop me from going with you.”

Nick gave a short nod but was deeply appreciative of Mason's willingness to be so diligent in his job. He whispered a prayer for his safety.

Jaw set with purpose, he walked over one hall and turned left. At the first door on the right, he raised his fist and knocked.

The door opened, and Wayne Thomas stood there in his judicial robe, his left hand completing the task of zipping it.

“May we come in?”

“Sure, but make it quick, I have a trial starting shortly.”

“Tell them it's going to be delayed for a bit. We have to talk.” Nick bit down hard on his tongue to keep from hurling the words his brain wanted him to speak.

Wayne's eyes grew wary. “What's this all about?”

Mason stepped to the side, eyes watchful. “Nick? You want to fill me in on what you're doing?”

“I'm exposing the man who had my nephew kidnapped.”

Mason tensed, and his eyes darted to Judge Wayne Thomas. “Come on, Nick, you can't just throw that out without some serious evidence to back it up.”

Nostrils flaring, Wayne glared at Nick. “Exactly. After all the years of friendship, working together, getting each other through the lousy times in our lives, you would accuse me of having something to do with Christopher's disappearance?”

Nick felt his phone vibrate. He ignored it. “I just put it all together.”

Wayne crossed to his desk, settled into his chair and laced his fingers across his stomach. Disdain dripped from him. Not the emotion Nick had been hoping for. Hurt or shock, maybe even disbelief are what he'd wanted to see on his friend's face when Nick dropped his bombshell.

Grief ripped through him. The disdain said it all. “Why, Wayne?”

The man's hand flashed like lightning, and before Nick could blink, he was staring at the wrong end of a serious weapon—complete with silencer. Mason moved almost as fast, but before his hand could pull his own gun, a slight pop sounded and the marshal dropped to the floor, a hole in his chest and the red stain spreading fast. “Ah…”

A phone rang, and Nick raced to the fallen marshal. Ignoring the ringing phone and Wayne's orders to leave the man alone, he grabbed the clean handkerchief he'd put in his pocket that morning and held it against Mason's chest. “Hang on, Mason. We're going to get out of this.” He couldn't tell exactly how badly the man was hit. Rage hit him—anger and extreme guilt at himself for putting Mason in danger, and bitter fury at the man who'd done so many despicable acts. He looked at Wayne. “Are you crazy?”

Wayne held the gun on Nick. “No. Tired. And maybe a little desperate.”

“Desperate? You just shot a man! A U.S. Marshal! He needs an ambulance.”

“It's too late to worry about him. The people I work for want me on the de Lugo trial, and that's the way it's going to play out. I was hoping you would do the smart thing and recuse yourself, but your lousy integrity just wouldn't let you do it, would it?” He sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

Cold fear and a fury like he'd never felt before swept over Nick, blinding him for a moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to keep his cool or he was a dead man. And if he died, where did that leave Christopher and Lindsey? He whispered a quick, desperate prayer, then looked down at the unconscious man whose blood now covered his hands. And now Mason was hurt because of him.

Taking a deep breath, Nick faced the man he thought he could trust with his life. The man who would gain custody of Lindsey and Christopher should anything happen to Nick. His stomach turned at the thought.

There was no way he could let that happen.

“You won't get away with this, Wayne.”

Wayne smirked. “Oh, don't be so clichéd. Of course I will.”

“You're in de Lugo's pocket. That trial two years ago, the one that I passed over to you, the defendants were connected to the de Lugo family, weren't they?”

“Yes.”

Pain nearly shattered him. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “So is Debbie in this with you?”

“Of course. I couldn't have done it without her.”

“She let you know where we were the whole time, didn't she?”

“Yes. All we had to do was track her cell phone. Now, we're going to move out of here and down the hall like everything is just fine.”

“I'm not going anywhere. Where's Christopher?”

“Christopher is just fine. A very happy little boy who loves my daughter like his own mother.”

Nick's fingers curled into fists, and he wanted nothing more than to smash the man's face.
God help me.
With effort, he pulled in another calming breath, ordering
himself to keep calm. He couldn't act on impulse. “Speaking of Christopher's mother, my sister—you had something to do with her death, didn't you?”

Surprise lifted Wayne's brow. He paused, still standing behind his desk. “Now, what would make you ask that?”

“Because two years ago, right before she died, when we were still working together in Myrtle Beach, you started pressuring me to recuse myself and hand a specific trial over to you. I refused. Your words, ‘Are you going to do the smart thing and let me take care of it?' were the same as the ones you said to me while I was on the way up here. I refused back then, and my wife and sister died in a one-car ‘accident.' I refused this time, and my life is threatened and my nephew kidnapped.”

“Could have just been a coincidence. But you're right—it wasn't. Still, I don't have time to explain.” Wayne waved the gun then pointed it back at Nick. “Now, we need to get going. I gave my secretary the day off because I figured I might need to take some drastic action. I didn't picture it quite like this, however. Now, I've got business to take care of.” He looked down at Mason. “And I've got to get that cleaned up. Help me get him hidden in the bathroom.”

“Help you? I don't think so. We're not doing anything until you explain yourself. You're admitting you had my wife and sister killed?”

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