Nanny Witness

by Hope White

  “What’s going on in here?” a middle-aged nurse said, entering the room. “She’s allowed one visitor at a time, and only if she’s up to it. Susan, how are you feeling?”

  Mrs. B. stared blindly across the room. It seemed like she had drifted into another world, and nothing was bringing her back.

  “That’s enough for today,” the nurse said with a stern expression.

  “I have to—”

  “Sir,” she interrupted Whit, “do I have to call security?”

  He slowly stood, the color draining from his face. Carly had to look away from the sadness she read in his eyes.

  Wanting to ease everyone’s pain, Carly stepped into Mrs. B.’s line of vision. “Mia is so glad her mama’s okay. We’ll come back soon to visit, right, baby girl?”

  On cue, Mia sighed.

  “Such a good girl,” Carly whispered and headed for the door.

  There was nothing more they could do for Mrs. B. Not until the doctors were able to diagnose and treat her condition. Carly didn’t doubt she’d been through a traumatic experience that caused her to shut down.

  Don’t let them get my baby! Take her. Keep her safe.

  The memory of her plea intensified Carly’s worry. How were she and Whit going to keep Mia safe when they still didn’t know who was after them or why?

  What have I done? Mrs. B. had said. Which meant she blamed herself for the kidnapping and threat to Mia.

  “I don’t get it,” Whit said as Harper led them to a waiting area. “Why release Susan and not my brother?”

  “Leverage?”

  “For what?”

  “Let’s say she’s involved in fraud or a Ponzi scheme and someone wants his money back. They failed to kidnap the baby, thanks to you and Carly, so what’s the next best pressure point?”

  Whit nodded. “My brother.”

  “Maybe they release Susan Bremerton and control her actions,” Harper suggested.

  “Right now it doesn’t look like anyone is in control, not even Susan.”

  “At least we know your brother is alive,” Harper said.

  “According to a hysterical woman who floats in and out of lucidity.”

  “Positive thinking, Whit,” Carly said. “If she said your brother is alive, I believe her. She’s traumatized, not delusional.”

  “She’s right,” Harper agreed.

  Whit glanced down the hall toward her room. “I want to talk to her again.”

  “I understand, but this is my job, okay?” Harper said. “I’ll call if anything changes.”

  “How long will she be hospitalized?” Whit said.

  “They won’t release her until she’s stable,” Carly offered.

  “I want to be close,” Whit said.

  Carly swayed with the baby in her arms. Mia had gotten a hold of her thumb and was sucking quietly.

  “There are a few hotels nearby,” Harper offered. “They’ll probably look there first.”

  “What are our other options?”

  “We’re still processing the crime scene, so you can’t stay at the house. Unfortunate because they’d never expect you to go back there, plus the police presence would give an added level of protection.”

  “What about the coach house over the garage?” Carly said.

  They both looked at her.

  “It’s a two-bedroom suite with a kitchenette. Mr. B. built it for out-of-town guests.”

  “You mean like family?” Harper asked.

  She hesitated, not wanting to hurt Whit’s feelings. “Um, sure, and sometimes business associates stayed there.”

  “Not a bad option,” Harper said. “I’ll work on getting you police protection, although we have limited staff and I have assigned someone to Mrs. Bremerton 24/7.”

  “Like you said, they won’t expect us to go back to the Bremerton estate,” Whit said. “The entire property is gated and has a security system, right?” He looked at Carly.

  “It does, although the kidnappers managed to get through.”

  “We think someone cloned Mr. Bremerton’s phone and that’s how they gained access,” Harper said.

  “We’ll need to change the security pass codes,” Whit said.

  “I’ve got the contact information for the security company,” Carly said. “It’s 24/7 service.”

  “Good, let’s give them a call.”

  * * *

  An hour later they were settled in the coach house above the garage and across the driveway from the main house. Carly was relieved that the security company had been able to reprogram the access codes so no one could gain entry onto the property except the police, Whit and Carly.

  Since Mia was making her hungry squeak, Carly sat her on her lap at the table and fed her a late-night snack of bananas and milk. The poor kid’s schedule was all messed up.

  “I’m sorry if this is hard for you,” Whit said.

  She glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Coming back to the house.” He was standing guard by the window.

  “I’m okay. What are you looking for?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Are you worried we won’t be safe?”

  “No. The gates are locked and the security company will notify police if the system is breached. Plus, Harper was going to try to have a deputy cruise by periodically.”

  “Then why are you staring at the house?”

  “I’m imagining my brother back in there with his wife and child, although Susan may not be coming home if she’s committed a crime.” He glanced at Carly and Mia. “Which means if Harry survives, he’ll be raising his daughter alone, unless the biological mother appeals to get her back. After this mess she might have a case for Susan being an unfit mother.”

  “Whoa, slow down. You’re getting way ahead of yourself. I know what you need.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Food.” She got up and handed the baby to Whit. “And some baby love.” He easily took Mia and held her close. Carly wanted to stand there for a minute to enjoy the sight of his large hands holding the seven-month-old so gently, but she didn’t want him to grow self-conscious. She turned and went to the kitchenette. “They keep the kitchen stocked for guests.”

  “You actually have an appetite?” Whit said as Mia leaned against his shoulder.

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. You’re right. I should probably eat something.” He swayed slightly from side to side.

  “Bingo.” She grabbed two cans of beef chili off a shelf and held them up. “You game?”

  “Sure.”

  She opened the chili and dumped it into a pot. “I know once Mrs. B. gets better she’ll be able to help police find your brother.”

  “How do you do that?” he said.

  “Do what? Multitask?”

  “Stay so positive all the time.”

  “What’s the alternative?”

  Mia fussed against Whit’s shoulder.

  “Here, I’ll put her down,” Carly offered.

  “Okay, we’ll swap and I’ll warm up the chili.”

  She took Mia from his arms and carried her into the bedroom where they’d set up a portable crib they’d found in the closet.

  Carly hummed and shifted from side to side, lulling the child to sleep. It usually took only a few minutes before Mia drifted off. Tonight was no different. Carly placed her on her back in the crib. Rubbing her tummy ever so slightly, Carly continued to hum.

  How did she even know how to do this?

  It’s God’s work.

  It truly was, and she wondered if she would ever have the opportunity to comfort and love a child of her own like she loved Mia.

  The lack of decent sleep these past few days must be catching up to her. Why else would she be thinking about the imp
ossibility of being a mother, of sharing a life with...

  A man like Brody Whittaker.

  Yes, she was very tired.

  As she watched Mia’s chest rise and fall with each breath, Carly felt extremely present and at peace. If nothing else, she was able to give this child the love Carly had been storing up for years—for Greta.

  “Sleep tight, little one. May the Lord bless you and keep you safe.”

  She tiptoed across the room, glanced at Mia one last time and carefully closed the door. “She’s out.”

  Carly turned to an empty living area.

  “Whit?”

  Maybe he needed to get something from the car.

  She went to the window where Whit had been standing and looked outside, unable to see much because of the inside lights.

  She flipped off the lights, plunging herself into darkness.

  Her heart rate sped up.

  No, they were safe here. Even the police said they’d be safe.

  Yeah, and since when did you believe the police?

  Since she’d become friends with Whit.

  A blinking light drew her attention to the downstairs office of the main house. Someone was inside.

  Then she spotted the silhouette of a man walking toward the house.

  Whit.

  And he was heading straight into an ambush.

  ELEVEN

  Carly was in the next room with Mia when Whit saw it: the flicker of a flashlight coming from inside the house. He bolted outside and across the driveway. He should have let Carly know what was going on, but he didn’t want to disturb the baby and couldn’t wait for Carly to finish putting Mia to sleep.

  Someone was in Harry’s house.

  How was that even possible? Whoever was inside might know Harry’s whereabouts. Maybe Whit could use the intruder as leverage against his employer and threaten his life if they didn’t release Harry.

  Now who sounded like a criminal?

  No, that wasn’t Whit. It was anger and worry driving him to the house to nab the perp before he disappeared. The intruder had breached a crime scene. The guy had guts.

  Or desperately needed something from inside.

  Whit flattened himself against the side of the house, edging his way toward the front door. They’d recoded that lock as well, so he’d be able to gain access. Police had supposedly set the alarm when they left tonight, so how did this guy gain access? And what was he after?

  Whit let himself in and stepped into the large foyer. Listened.

  Heard nothing.

  He wouldn’t accept the possibility that the perp, who could have answers about Harry, had fled the scene.

  A noise echoed down the hall.

  Whit approached the room slowly, silently.

  He had no idea what he was walking into. A few more steps...

  He popped into the doorway, aiming his firearm. “Freeze! Police!”

  A silhouette of a figure dressed in all black darted outside through the French doors.

  “Stop!” He chased after the intruder.

  The perp sprinted across the property, disappearing behind a shed. Not good. Whit could be walking into an ambush, but he couldn’t let the intruder get away.

  Then again, if Whit was dealing with a violent criminal the guy would have just shot Whit on sight.

  He reconsidered going after the perp without backup, but it was too late for second thoughts. He had to continue his pursuit and find the guy who had answers about Harry.

  “Come out of there!” he ordered.

  Rustling echoed beyond the shed in the woods. Great, the perp was trying to flee the premises. With energy he didn’t know he had, Whit pursued him deep into the forest. The full moon lit his way to a point, but once the glow was blocked by the mass of pine and cedar trees, Whit lost sight of the perp.

  Using the trees as cover, he stopped and listened. More rustling echoed from the left about a hundred feet in the distance. Staying low, he headed toward the sound. He could barely hear his own thoughts through the pumping of his adrenaline.

  He went deeper into the forest, ignoring the sting of various bushes and tree limbs as they slapped his face. Determination drove him into the darkness.

  That rational voice in his head shouted that this was a bad move, that he was being lured into a trap, but emotion was driving him. The love he felt for his brother fueled Whit like high-octane gas in a race car.

  A crunching sound suddenly drew his attention to the right. Was the guy lost, zigzagging through the woods because he didn’t know where to go?

  Or was he trying to lure Whit away from the house, away from...

  “Mia,” he whispered.

  In that split second, he was shocked back to his senses. He was supposed to protect Mia and Carly, and instead chose to take off on a one-man mission to capture the intruder.

  He’d left Carly and Mia alone and vulnerable.

  Breathing heavily, he stopped short, spun around and took off toward the coach house. Was this the strategy all along? Distract him long enough to kidnap Carly and Mia? What a fool. He’d played right into his enemy’s plan.

  His only excuse was he was out of his mind, so worried about his brother that his common sense had shut down, and he’d lost his edge.

  Sprinting across the property, he caught himself praying for Carly and the baby’s safety. Please, God, don’t let my failure put them at risk.

  He turned a corner and saw the coach house in the distance. The lights were off.

  “No,” he ground out.

  He couldn’t run fast enough, afraid he was too late. They’d taken his niece. They’d taken Carly, a woman who fascinated him and warmed his heart with her faith and kindness. Her bright, light energy.

  Extinguished. Because he’d abandoned her.

  Blinded by panic, he scaled the coach house stairs two at a time. Unlocked the door.

  Rushed through the living room to the bedroom.

  Turned on the lights.

  The crib was empty.

  Rage churned in his chest. “Carly!” The anguished cry burst from his chest.

  “Whit?” a muffled voice said.

  He straightened. Now he was hearing things?

  The door to the closet cracked open. He opened it wider.

  Carly was sitting on the closet floor with Mia stretched out beside her on a blanket. Carly was patting the child’s tummy with one hand and gripping a Taser with the other.

  “Where’d you get that?” he said.

  “Sam gave it to me.”

  “Are you...okay?” he said.

  She nodded that she was. He offered his hand and she took it. The warmth shot clear up his arm to his heart.

  She was okay. Mia was okay.

  He automatically pulled Carly into a hug. When he let go, she glanced questioningly into his eyes.

  “We’re really okay,” she said. “Better now that you’re back.”

  She tucked the Taser into her back pocket, kneeled and picked up Mia, who seemed to be sound asleep. Humming softly, Carly put the baby in the crib. She and Whit went to the living room.

  “I shouldn’t have left you,” he said.

  “I understand.” Carly headed for the kitchenette. “You saw someone at the house, right?”

  “That’s not a good enough excuse to leave you two alone.”

  Pounding thundered up the stairs. Whit withdrew his gun and Carly aimed her Taser at the door.

  Detective Harper froze in the doorway. “Uh...don’t shoot?”

  Whit and Carly lowered their weapons, Carly placing hers on the kitchen table.

  “How did you—” Whit said.

  “Carly called 9-1-1,” Harper interrupted. “She reported someone broke into the house and you went to investigate.”

 
“So much for changing the pass codes for security purposes,” Carly said.

  “They didn’t come for the baby,” Whit said. “This feels different. Why break into the house if what they wanted was Mia? They obviously knew she wouldn’t be there.”

  “Did you get a good look at him?” Harper said.

  “No, he took off before I could see his face although he was on the small side, maybe five-six or -seven?” Whit, still ashamed about his behavior, forced himself to look at Carly. “What room was the intruder searching?”

  “Your brother’s office.”

  “What were they looking for?” Harper said.

  Whit shook his head. An acute headache was building behind his eyes and not because he’d chased a perp across the backyard. His head ached from all the questions plaguing him, questions like how they accessed the code so quickly, why they risked breaking into the house and the most important question: Was Whit the right man to be protecting Carly and Mia?

  The answer to that last question was obvious.

  He looked at Detective Harper. “Carly and Mia should go into protective custody. Immediately.”

  * * *

  “What? No,” Carly said.

  Whit acted like he didn’t hear her and continued to address the detective. “They’ll be safe in the custody of people whose sole job it is to protect them.”

  “I thought that was your job,” Harper countered.

  “It is his job,” Carly snapped.

  “Harper, can you give us a minute?” Whit asked.

  “Sure.” He left the coach house and Whit closed the door.

  With his back to her, Whit said, “You were right, Carly. I’m about the job first and everything else second. I left you two alone. I never should have done that.”

  “Whit, we’re fine.”

  He turned to her. “You didn’t look fine when I opened the closet door. You looked...”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, you looked scared and fragile and the baby—”

  “Mia is fine.”

  “I’m responsible for that. I’m the reason you had to hide in a closet with only a Taser to defend you and the baby. I’m the absolute wrong person to be protecting you.” He paced toward the refrigerator and pulled out a can of soda. “Let the professionals take it from here.”