Three Days to Forever (A Mac Faraday Mystery Book 9)

by Lauren Carr

  Holding his breath, David tightened the grip on the Glock.

  “You can’t guard the barn without your weapon.” After grabbing an assault rifle resting against the wall next to David, Ra’ees shoved it into the back of his shoulder. Keeping his face averted, David grabbed the rifle and hurried out the door to go find where the Easter Bunny had been hiding.

  Mac stood among the hordes of resort guests clutching their winter coats close to block out the freezing wind and snow and checked the time on his cell phone.

  It was closing in on ten o’clock. Time was ticking away. They had wasted a lot of time calling in the bomb squad to clear the hotel of any other devices and waiting for the state police to check for any other jihadists.

  Even Gnarly was picking up on Mac’s anxiety. Or it could have been the hordes of people milling around. On his leash, the German shepherd was pacing back and forth around Mac while eying everyone around them.

  Mac felt a thin hand clutch his elbow. Forcing a smile to conceal his worry, he turned to his daughter. He saw the same smile on her face. “David is going to be fine.” She hugged him tight. She was clad in a violet faux fur coat that matched her eyes.

  Mac wrapped his arms around her. “I know.”

  He felt Spencer’s leash tighten around his ankles as the pup circled them to bind all of them, including Gnarly, together. “When are you going to get that dog trained?”

  “She is.” Jessica gingerly backed away while untangling the leash that bound them.

  “Here, let me help.” Murphy knelt down and held out his arms. On cue, Spencer ran to him and leapt up into his arms. She licked his face while he rose to his feet and took the leash from Jessica.

  “We need to find a base of operation,” Mac said. “Spencer Manor has been shot up, and there’s no telling when they’ll allow guests in the hotel. And I’m also getting nervous with a bunch of strangers around. You saw how easily this jihadist walked in and went up to Kochar’s room. I suggest we regroup at the Spencer police station.”

  “I’ll text Tristan.” Whipping out her cell phone, Jessica turned to Murphy, who was checking his phone. “Can I give you a ride, sailor?”

  In the middle of turning to search for Bogie, Mac’s head snapped around at the tone in Jessica’s voice when she offered Murphy a ride. It’s was more than flirtatious. It was even familiar. His eyes narrowed, he studied Murphy’s reaction.

  “I’d love to,” Murphy responded, “but I need to meet someone first.” With Spencer still in his arms, he made his way through the crowd.

  “Who?” With a bounce in her step, Jessica fell in step behind Murphy.

  There’s something else for me to worry about. Well, at least Colt Fitzgerald is out of the picture. Murphy’s got more than six-pack abs going for him.

  With a sigh of exhaustion, Mac went in search of Bogie.

  “It’s business.” With a grin creeping to his lips, Murphy noted that she was following right at his heels.

  “Is this someone male or female?”

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t know.”

  “How do you not know?” she replied.

  With a laugh, Murphy stopped so quickly that she ran into his elbow. He turned to her. “Don’t you watch the news, surf the Internet, or watch television?”

  “Not really.” She stepped in close to him. “I have a life.”

  He leaned over to bring his face close to hers. With a deep breath, he tore his attention from her violet eyes, which threatened to pull him in and away from his current assignment. “Tell me about it.”

  “I’d love to.” Daring him to kiss her, she brought her lips up to his.

  “I’m afraid that if I kissed you now, I wouldn’t stop,” he said, “and we really don’t have time for that. We’re up against the clock, and some massive bad-asses whose motto is, ‘He who gets the highest body count wins.’”

  “So I’ll help you save the world now, and you can kiss later. Sounds like a date to me.”

  “Seriously, I do need to go talk to someone.” He continued to elbow his way through the heavy crowd of hotel guests to make his way down the street.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “I thought you were going to the Spencer Police Station,” Murphy said.

  “You said you were going to protect me and make sure I was safe until all this was over,” she said. “Well, it’s not over, and I need your body.”

  Murphy stopped and turned around. Even in the darkness of the night with only the outside lighting, he could see that her face was bright pink. Her fur coat hugged every delicious curve of her slender body down to her hips. From there down, her body was clad in black tights that eased down her hips to her shapely legs, where they disappeared at the lower thigh into black leather pirate boots with high heels.

  Who needs whose body, buttercup?

  With a giggle, she cocked her head at him. She peered at him through her long eyelashes. “To guard me … I mean, I need you to guard my body. I need a bodyguard.”

  Saying nothing, Murphy cocked his head and flashed a playful grin at her. “You need my body to guard yours?”

  “You offered.”

  “Well, I guess I have to,” he said mockingly in response to the task at hand. “You did dump Colt Fitzgerald for me.”

  Murphy put Spencer down on the ground and took hold of her leash. He held out his other hand to her. When she hesitated, he tossed his head in a gesture for her to go along. “Come along, buttercup. I can’t guard your body if it’s all the way back there. I need it close by so that I can jump you at a second’s notice when things suddenly get real hot.”

  After grasping his hand, she dared to wrap both arms around his arm and bury her face into his shoulder. “Oh, I love a man who knows how to talk dirty.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening.” Trying not to break down from worry and frustration, Mac turned around in search of a quiet place to catch his breath and regroup when he suddenly found himself face to face with Chelsea Adams, who had just stepped out of the crowd with her service dog, Molly. Her face was filled with confusion and worry.

  “Mac …” She glanced around at the police officers and security personnel directing the guests. She knew many of them from her relationship with David and her job as a paralegal to the county prosecutor. She didn’t miss the concern and sympathy in their eyes when they caught sight of her.

  Even Gnarly, who would have normally galloped over to Molly to lick her ears, was hanging back with his tail tucked between his hind legs.

  “Where’s David?” Her voice trembled. “What’s going on? I heard there was a bomb threat here at the hotel. Why was rehearsal cancelled? Was that connected to this? Why can’t I get ahold of David? Has something happened to him? He was acting strange when he left the hospital …”

  Mac took her arm. “Let’s go over here.” He led her over to a quiet corner outside the hotel that was sheltered from the wind, snow, and crowds of people.

  Even without knowing for certain what had happened, she was sobbing before Mac could shelter her from crowds.

  Leading Spencer on a leash, Murphy and Jessica walked hand in hand down the road from the Spencer Inn until they were almost out of sight of the street lights. In spite of the cold, their clasped hands kept each other warm.

  Casting side glances in Murphy’s direction, Jessica noted how perfectly her hand fit into his. The flutter she felt in her heart made her remember when she went on her first date in middle school. She tried to recall the last time she had felt that flutter and couldn’t come up with a time. It had been long before her inheritance had thrust her into high society—before she had become immersed in a different class of friends.

  This feels like it used to feel. Much different. Much better-er.

  They had come to where the road started to decline down the mountain when Murphy
led Jessica into a turnoff that she had never realized was there before. It was an unofficial overlook to the lake down below.

  She found two black vans parked next to each other far off the paved road.

  “Stay here,” Murphy instructed in a firm tone. He handed her Spencer’s leash. “Sit,” he ordered the dog.

  Spencer dropped her butt down to the ground.

  “Stay.” He held up his hand in the sign of a stop signal to her.

  Gazing up at him, the sheltie waited.

  While Murphy approached the closer van, Jessica observed an African-American man watching him in the rearview mirror. The driver muttered to someone in the van.

  Standing still, Murphy waited with one hand on his weapon.

  They heard a door slam on the other side of the van and footsteps approaching the rear. A short older man stepped around the corner and stopped. The only hair on his head was a white mustache that gave him a menacing air. He was dressed in military fatigues. He looked each of them up and down in turn. Finally, he turned his attention to Murphy. “Lieutenant Murphy Thornton?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Colonel Glen Frost, United States Marines. Your CO sent me and my team to assist you. She says some bad-ass terrorists have one of my men.”

  The doors of the two vans opened. Four men and two women, all dressed in military fatigues, climbed out. They were each heavily armed and ready for battle.

  “We have three more coming in from Washington via helicopter,” the colonel said. “Just tell us where to go. When we’re through, those desert rats are going to know they’ve been in a fight. We’re all primed to do some serious butt kickin’ from here to Iraq and back again. We’re going to teach them about bringing their war over to our shores. Aren’t we, Bravo Team?”

  “Ooh-hah!” the rest of his team shouted in unison.

  “Cute dog, by the way,” the colonel said.

  “Her name is Candi,” Murphy said.

  Sensing that she was being talked about, the little sheltie stood up and wagged her tail so hard that it looked like it was going to fly off her butt.

  “Who’s the princess?” Colonel Frost gestured at Jessica.

  “That’s Buttercup,” Murphy said. “I’m guarding her body.”

  “Sweet!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  In the middle of answering questions for her local, county, and state colleagues, Spencer Police Desk Sergeant Tonya paused to hold out a message sheet to Mac when he stepped through the door. “Archie called. She was in a lot of pain, so they gave her a sedative and she’s going to sleep. I assured her that you’ll be there tomorrow morning when she wakes up. So don’t forget.” She added, “I didn’t tell her about David. I figured with everything else …”

  “Did she say what she wanted to do about the wedding?” Mac asked.

  “Only that she has no intention of going down the aisle in that designer gown on crutches.”

  Overhearing this, Hector, studying the computer monitor at which Tristan was seated, replied in a loud voice, “Jeff will have a stroke if you cancel!”

  “If he didn’t have a stroke when evacuating the hotel over a bomb threat during the high point of the holiday season, then he’ll survive our cancelling the wedding,” Mac replied. “Jeff’s nerves are the least of my worries. Right now, we need to find David before they ship him off to Lord knows where. After all this is over, I’ll give Jeff a very generous bonus and extra vacation time to make him feel better.”

  Hector stood up. “You never give me bonuses and extra vacation.”

  “You don’t throw hissy fits.”

  “We found where they’re keeping David,” Tristan shouted to be heard above everyone.

  “We think,” Hector said while patting the shoulder of a man who was sitting at the computer next to Tristan’s. “Most likely it’s where they have him.”

  The young man with long dark blond hair and black-framed glasses turned around in his seat to observe Mac looking down at him.

  On the other side of the squad room, Bogie was pouring over maps with his other officers. Since the deputy chief didn’t appear to be distressed by the visitor, Mac surmised this stranger had to be a friend rather than foe. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” He regretted his less-than-congenial tone as soon as the words came out of his mouth. His patience was wearing thin.

  The rush of cold air behind him and the heavy pounding of combat boots on the floor signaled the arrival of more people volunteering to help their efforts to rescue Spencer’s police chief. Holding her sheltie pup, Jessica looked like a brilliant purple flower oasis in the midst of military fatigues.

  Upon spying Gnarly stretched out on the length of the sofa, Spencer squirmed and wiggled until, finally, the sheltie burst out of her arms and hit the floor running for the German shepherd.

  Spotting the advancing twenty-five pounds of energy coming his way, Gnarly leapt from the comfort of his sofa and scurried as fast as he could for the confines of Tonya’s desk. With the minimal amount of space through which to squeeze his large frame, Gnarly pushed the desk sergeant’s chair on wheels out of the way in order to seek shelter from the yapping young dog.

  “I think Gnarly has finally met his match,” Tonya said upon noting the hundred-pound dog hiding from the fur ball that was one-quarter his size.

  “I thought you said that dog was trained,” Mac said to Jessica.

  “She is,” she replied. “You should see her beg.”

  As if to demonstrate, Spencer uttered a long pleading whine that ended in a high-pitched bark at Gnarly.

  “Yeah, right,” Mac said with a shake of his head before turning his attention back to the young man with the long hair and glasses who was looking him up and down.

  “You must be Mac Faraday. Cameron Gates said that I could talk to you, but the other woman told me to report to Lieutenant Murphy Thornton.”

  “That would be me.” Murphy closed the door behind him and elbowed his way through the throng of marines to make his way into the squad room.

  “Lieutenant Murphy Thornton?” Tonya whispered to Jessica. “Any relation—”

  “Son.” A sigh escaped from Jessica’s lips.

  Tonya turned in her chair to admire the tall athletically slender man crossing the squad room to Mac and Hector. “I second that, girlfriend.”

  Hearing the swoon, Bogie muttered, “Yes, he is attractive.”

  “Way beyond attractive,” Tonya said. “He’s downright dreamy.”

  The long-haired man at the desktop looked at Murphy Thornton, who was dressed in his black jeans and leather jacket. “Lieutenant Murphy Thornton?” He rose to his feet.

  Doubtful, Murphy hesitated to respond.

  After pushing his glasses up on his nose, he offered his hand. “Your boss told me to report to you.” While the two men shook hands, he introduced himself. “Ethan Bonner. Computer expert extraordinaire. My late employer, Reginald Crane, had given me her phone number to call in an emergency. After I told her what had happened, she told me to come see you. I believe we’re both looking for the same man. He was one of the two who killed my boss and good friend.”

  “What about the second man?” Mac asked him.

  “Shot him this afternoon.” Ethan looked over at Murphy. “He was trying to murder your stepmother because she had gotten too close.”

  “So my CO told me,” Murphy said with a nod. “Cameron’s with Dad now? Is she okay?”

  “She’s better than Reginald Crane,” Ethan said. “Your boss had arranged a helicopter transport to bring us here. We landed at the Inn’s helipad, and Hector was kind enough to take Cameron to the hospital to be with your father. Neal Black killed Crane in her jurisdiction. So she’s claiming dibs when we capture him.”

  “Of course she is.” Mac allowed a grin to come to his lips. “That’s
Cameron for you.

  “I got a sense of that.” Ethan turned back to Murphy. “I was told that you need someone to add something special to a flash drive.”

  Murphy dug a red thumb drive from his jacket pocket and handed it to Ethan, who examined it closely before saying, “I can work with this. Understand, I have no experience with explosives.”

  “That’s okay,” Murphy said. “I do.”

  “So do we,” said Colonel Glen Frost, who had followed Murphy across the squad room to listen in.

  Seeing Mac’s and Bogie’s questioning expressions, Murphy issued introductions all around. Colonel Frost offered his hand to Mac, and then to Bogie, to shake. “I remember both of you from the award ceremony a little more than a year ago. It’s an honor to serve by your sides. I’m sick about what’s happened. O’Callaghan doesn’t deserve this.”

  “I have no military experience,” Mac warned them. “I was a cop and detective—”

  “You’ve still served on the frontlines,” Frost said. “Just remember that these guys don’t believe in telling you your rights—because they don’t believe in anyone having any—nor do they take any prisoners.”

  “Shoot to kill. Got that.” Mac held up his hand. “Obviously,” he gestured at Murphy, Frost, and Bonner, “you’re getting intel from some person—what did you say her name was?”

  “We didn’t,” Murphy said.

  “I don’t like taking orders from someone whose name I don’t know.”

  “Neither do I,” Bogie said in agreement.

  “What is it that they want?” Mac asked bluntly. “I thought about this after the jihadist attack at the Inn. This guy who called me said that I had something that belonged to him. He didn’t specify what it was. Suddenly, you—” He poked Murphy in the chest, “correctly conclude that they sent someone to the Inn to kill this author, who we know had given something to your father, which I assume you now have. For all we know, that thumb drive isn’t what they want. They could be after what Kochar gave to your father.”