“Get down!”
Matt threw his arm out to make sure Maggie stayed down just as the windshield shattered over them. Another shot sounded. The Jimmy sank to the left. Before Matt could bring out his own gun to the party, the sound of screeching tires squealed away.
“Stay down,” Matt barked. He pulled his gun out and up, ready to return fire but the van was already booking it in the opposite direction, dust kicking up behind it.
“They’re fleeing,” he said with a few added words that would have made his mother angry. “Are you okay?”
Maggie popped up like a spring flower.
“We have to follow him,” she yelled. “We can’t let him get away!”
Matt knew now that the right thing would have been not to bring Maggie along. Just the option of staying at the house after someone had thrown a brick through the windows until backup arrived would have been risky before. Now the option of following had proven to be far too dangerous. To keep following would be nothing less than reckless. But he wasn’t about to spell that out for her. Not when she wanted blood.
Instead, he reached over and grabbed his phone. She started to argue again that they needed to continue the pursuit but he ignored her until the local police dispatcher picked up the phone. Even if Matt agreed with her and decided to risk her life further, the fact of the matter was whoever it was they had been chasing wasn’t just some petty criminal fleeing a crime scene.
Matt looked out the window at his front tire. Their perp had shot it flat.
Whoever the man was he had a lot of guts. And determination.
Matt glanced back at his deflated tire.
The man knew what he was doing.
Which made him even more dangerous.
Chapter Seven
An off-duty Riker County Sheriff’s Department deputy was the first to arrive at the scene. He parked his car on the shoulder behind where Matt had moved the Jimmy off the road.
“You’re fast,” Matt greeted the man. His name was Caleb Foster, and while he’d had a rocky start when he’d first transferred in, he had earned the respect of the department. And a lot of their friendships, too. Matt hadn’t had the chance to really get to know him but he knew that would change soon. Especially since Billy had suggested the man try for a future detective’s spot opening thanks to a growing county.
Caleb raised his eyebrow.
“If the sheriff called you roaring like he was, you’d get to where he told you to as fast as you could.”
“You’re right about that,” Matt agreed. He’d called Billy after he’d gotten off the phone with the Darby PD. To say the sheriff had retained his calm and cool composure after finding out someone had shot at one of his people would have been a bald-faced lie. No one attacked one of his own. Not without incurring his wrath.
“I wasn’t too far away, though. Just dropped the dog off at the vet for a checkup.” Caleb walked closer and lowered his voice. He motioned to Maggie, who was on the other side of the car, facing the trees that lined the road. She had his phone up to her ear. “How’s she doing?”
“Have you ever met her before?”
“No. Can’t say I have.”
Matt let out a long breath.
“I don’t think I’ve met a more stubborn woman in all of my life,” he said. “I’m sure she’s only rattled when she wants to be.”
He glanced over as Maggie turned, her face in view. She’d been cut by the windshield’s glass in two different places. When he’d first asked about them she’d shooed away the concern. Seeing her hurt, though, even if the cuts were small, filled him with more anger than he thought was possible.
“But I’m not above admitting I don’t like this situation,” Matt added. “We need to figure out what the hell is going on. Fast.”
Caleb agreed and together they recapped what they knew until the Darby PD showed up. Two officers relayed the infuriating information that the van and the driver hadn’t been found. There was an all-points bulletin out, and officers were looking but so far all they had was a big bag of nothing.
They needed another lead. Another angle that might shed light on what was going on. A wish they got when Caleb drove them back to Maggie’s house while another deputy stayed with the Jimmy when it was being towed.
Caleb whistled low, pulled out his gun and followed Matt around. Together they cleared the house for the second time that day and waved Maggie in. She hadn’t said much since they’d been stranded but after the high of being in a pursuit had worn off she had asked to call Cody’s school to make sure he was okay, just in case.
Now her lips were downturned, her eyebrows drawn together and an emotion he couldn’t pin was brewing behind her eyes. Her hands were on her hips as she walked through the front door and turned toward her living room and its floor littered with glass shards. The defensive stance only strengthened an impulse within Matt he had been trying to ignore.
He wasn’t angry at Maggie Carson. He was angry for Maggie Carson. A change that he would have laughed at had anyone suggested it was possible the day before.
“Didn’t you call in a CSU crew already? Before the bricks came flying in?” Caleb asked, actively trying not to touch anything while still looking around. Matt had explained their theory about Maggie leaving the house the day before in a rush. He didn’t combat it with a different one after seeing her car keys on the table.
“Yeah, Sheriff Reed said he was going to personally call them when we got off the phone earlier.” Matt shared a look with the deputy. They both knew that meant that the crew would be there sooner rather than later. “So until then we have to be careful with what we touch,” he added on for Maggie’s benefit.
She was standing next to one of the bricks, leaning over to get a better look at something. The movement caused her hair to fall over her shoulder. It created a backdrop of curls that somehow made her profile even more appealing. He shook his head a little, hoping the deputy hadn’t caught the lingering look. Since when did he focus on Maggie Carson like that? Especially in the middle of an active crime scene?
“What if there’s a piece of paper on the other side of the brick?” Maggie’s eyes stayed aimed downward. “And what if we aren’t patient people and want to see what that paper says right now?”
That definitely caught Matt’s attention.
“There’s paper under the brick?”
Maggie nodded.
“I’m assuming the message is meant for me, seeing as there’s a rubber band around it and the brick. Not to mention it crashed through my window into my house.”
True to her word there was a piece of paper bound to the brick. Matt turned to Caleb.
“Do you happen to have any rubber gloves in your car?”
The deputy shook his head.
“I’m driving my girlfriend’s car while mine is in the shop.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask if you have any,” Matt said to Maggie. She raised her eyebrow but then cut off whatever she was about to say by holding her index finger up.
“Would a plastic sandwich bag work? They’re pretty useful, you know.”
Matt smirked but was weirdly proud of the suggestion. He nodded and a minute later he was navigating the rubber band off the brick and holding up a letter, sandwich bag on his hand.
The note was written on stock printer paper and torn in a few spots but the message across its middle was clear enough. At least the first part. Understanding it was a different story.
CHRIS LESLIE RYAN was written in small, neat black print. An equally small line in red ran through the name.
But Matt still didn’t understand.
“Who is Chris Leslie Ryan?” he asked the room, though really it was rhetorical in nature. He didn’t expect Maggie to react. Not as much as she did, at least.
In another moment of open vulnerability, her hand went
up to cover her mouth and her eyes went wide. They met his gaze with a surge of nearly tangible fear. For that one second every part of Matt felt drawn to those green eyes, felt compelled to replace the fear with anything else.
“Who is Chris Leslie Ryan?”
Maggie shook her head and lowered her hand. As if she couldn’t believe the answer she had.
“It’s not one person,” she said. “It’s three.”
* * *
MAGGIE FELT HERSELF shutting down, freaking out and attempting to keep her chin up all at the same time after she escaped to her bathroom. The thick skin she had cultivated when being a cutthroat journalist had been her greatest goal in life, and had apparently grown paper-thin over the past few years. Or she’d finally come up against something that was sharp enough to cut through it.
She looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for the second time that day and tried to grab some piece of solid ground from the day before.
Nothing but a headache and sore legs.
The sound of strangers in her house clobbered through the sanctuary-like feeling her bedroom and en suite used to hold. She finished patting water off her face and paused next to her bed. Before she had a chance to explain the note, a CSU crew had arrived. Even without being a part of Matt and the deputy’s inner circle she knew that the sheriff must have been the devil that was nipping at the crew’s heels. They were already apologizing for the delay before they’d even hit the front porch.
It was all good timing, though. As soon as she’d seen the names Maggie knew she needed a moment to collect herself. Seeing how the detective’s expression had changed after she had read the note had proven that she hadn’t been wearing her game face. And that was what she needed if she was going to survive this situation.
She needed to stay strong.
She needed to stay steady.
She definitely didn’t need to lose her mind. Again.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Maggie pulled a smile out of her arsenal, hoping it would provide cover for her actual feelings. Detective Walker came into view.
“You look grumpy,” she couldn’t help but say.
Matt didn’t even skip a beat.
“Why do you think Chris Leslie Ryan is actually three people?”
He stopped just inside the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. Maggie wondered when the last time he slept was. He looked like a man who was ready to fall face-first into a bed.
The bed next to her suddenly felt like it was on fire.
Maggie angled her body slightly so she couldn’t see it.
“Because I don’t know a Chris Leslie Ryan,” she answered. “But I do know a Chris, a Leslie and a Ryan.”
The detective shrugged.
“Those are pretty common names,” he pointed out. “I also know a person who goes by each.”
He was trying to make Maggie create a solid case for herself. It was an effective way of getting answers without asking any questions. She understood the tactic. But that didn’t mean she liked feeling as if she was blowing something out of proportion. Not again. Not by Matt Walker.
Like her mother before her, to make her point more pointed, Maggie’s hands gravitated to her hips. She even felt her chin tip up. All business.
“Well, unless you were married to a Chris, adopted a child from a Leslie and currently work for a Ryan, then maybe my Chris, Leslie and Ryan are a little more relevant than yours. Don’t you think? Not to mention, once again, the brick went through my window.”
The detective’s expression gave away only one clue as to his first thought. Surprise. But at which point, she didn’t know. Then, like watching a clock, she saw the gears starting to turn. His eyebrow rose and he stood straight.
“When’s the last time you saw Chris?”
Maggie hoped she hid the involuntary twinge of pain at how casual the question sounded. Chris Bradley wasn’t the happiest of memories for her.
“When we signed the divorce papers,” she said, trying to maintain an even voice. “Four years ago. Give or take.”
He glazed over the admission to his next question.
“And Leslie?”
“She helped navigate the ins and outs of adoption but she relocated shortly after the adoption was finalized. The last time I saw her was maybe two years ago?” Maggie held up her hand to stop the question before he asked it. “Ryan is the owner of the magazine I work for. I mostly work out of my home but stop by the office at least once or twice every month. I saw him last week.”
“So there’s no connection between these three people?”
Maggie shrugged.
“The only connection I know is that they’ve been part of important life moments for me,” she admitted, a knot beginning to form in her stomach again. “If there’s something else that ties them or us together, I don’t know it.” Maggie’s air of calm ran out. She took a step forward and lowered her voice so the team in the living room couldn’t hear her. Not that she distrusted them.
Maggie realized the movement might simply mean she trusted Matt.
Maybe.
“Everything that’s happened in the past two days,” she started. “Surely it’s not all a coincidence? There has to be something connecting everything together that we’re not seeing. Right?”
The detective didn’t answer right away. He was still searching for something. The answer? Or the right way to say the answer?
“Maggie.” His voice was deep. Smooth. The only sound in her world at that moment. “I think it’s you. I think you’re the center of it all and that message might have just proven it.”
“How?”
She needed the truth. She needed it so badly that she moved closer to the man. On reflex she tilted her head back to better meet his stare. Had they ever been this close before? And was it her imagination or did he look down at her lips?
“The message,” he repeated, derailing her unwelcome thoughts. “It proves that whoever wrote it either knows you or researched you well enough to get really personal information.”
“But why? Why would I need a reminder if I know him already?”
Maggie already didn’t like what he was going to say. A storm seemed to start up in his eyes. Deep eyes, drenched in mystery.
“My guess? He’s saying that he doesn’t just know you. He knows your past and your present.” She watched as the detective’s jaw hardened. He was angry. “It’s a threat, Maggie. A personal one.”
Chapter Eight
His plans changed as soon as he said his theory out loud. Again. Right in that moment, standing so close to Maggie Carson that he could smell her shampoo. Someone was sending her a message and, while he didn’t know exactly what it meant, he wasn’t going to stand for it.
He was going to protect Maggie and her son to the ends of the earth if he had to. No discussions. No hesitation. No second thoughts.
“Pack a bag for you and Cody,” he commanded, hoping the authority in it would keep her from arguing with him the way only Maggie could argue with him. Still, he added on an explanation to move things along. “If someone thinks he knows you and your life, then we’re going to do some things you don’t normally do.”
Maggie’s eyebrow quirked up so quickly that he realized what he’d said sounded charged with something other than protectiveness. He took a step back to create some distance between them, playing it off like he was getting ready to go into the living room.
“And that would be?” she asked, looking down at his feet for a second as he moved away.
“We’re going to get you out of here for one. You two aren’t staying the night here.” He motioned toward the front of the house when her mouth opened to interject. “Unless you want Cody to stay here. In the house that the gun-wielding, brick-throwing perpetrator has already targeted and perhaps even been inside.”
> “Of course I don’t want him to stay here,” she snapped. “I just—I don’t have anyplace for us to go.” Like a match had been struck, Maggie’s cheeks turned red at the statement. The sight surprised him. He felt his expression soften. If only for a moment.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll figure it.”
There was no snappy reply; Maggie simply nodded.
Half an hour or so later and Billy didn’t have good news. Matt shouldn’t have been surprised. Not with how everything else had been going.
“They found the van you chased behind a Walmart in Kipsy. It had been set on fire. By the time first responders arrived the car was covered.” Billy’s jaw was tight. The three of them stood in the kitchen, just out of earshot of two CSU team members who were finishing up. “There was no security footage around that got a good shot of where it happened but there was definitely no body in the vehicle.”
“So the gunman who charmed his way into my house via bricks isn’t some first-time criminal, I’d guess,” Maggie piped in at his side. “He knew how to cover his tracks.”
Billy tipped his head to the side in agreement.
“I wouldn’t count his intelligence out,” he concurred. “But I also wouldn’t say he’s making all smart decisions. Instigating an attack in broad daylight against a law enforcement officer isn’t the best course of action.”
“He probably didn’t know that he was a detective,” Maggie said, jutting her thumb over to Matt.
“Which means that, while he might be familiar with you, Ms. Carson, he’s not familiar with Detective Walker here.”
“He at least didn’t know my personal vehicle,” Matt agreed.
“Which makes me feel inclined to agree with your plan.” Billy lowered his voice again. “We’ll set you and Cody up in a hotel in Carpenter, a few minutes’ drive from the department, and put a guard on you.”
Matt saw the slight shift in Maggie’s demeanor. She was uncomfortable. And Billy didn’t seem to catch it. His expression didn’t change as he spoke directly to her.
Forgotten Pieces Page 6
