by Terri Reed
Anthony fought the yearning to cry out to God. He wasn’t ready to let go of his anger, to face the truth of his own guilt, the secret he held close.
The traffic signal turned red. As he brought the van to a stop behind a four-door sedan, he mentally put the brakes on his thoughts. Now was not the time to question his path. They had a mission to accomplish. Lives to protect. Being distracted with what couldn’t be changed wasn’t productive. He chanced a look at Viv in the passenger seat.
Her lush lips were pressed into a tense line. The emerald color of her blouse reflected in her eyes, turning the blue to a pretty shade of teal. She met his gaze, then her gaze quickly skidded away. The anxiousness he saw there tugged at him. She’d been jumpy yet reserved all day. The bruised hue under her eyes made him wince. She’d obviously had trouble sleeping. So had he. His mind had kept reliving those few moments when she’d been standing in the doorway between their rooms, her eyes devouring him, an expression of pure yearning on her lovely face.
His heart hammered in his chest at the memory.
There’d been no mistaking she’d felt the same magnetic pull that pulsed within him. It had taken every ounce of self-control to remain motionless, to not give in to the need to hold her, to wrap his arms around her and draw her close. Thinking about that moment now…his heart picked up speed.
A horn beeped.
He dragged his attention back to the road and shook off Viv’s allure. The light had turned green. He stepped on the gas.
But even when he wasn’t looking at Viv, the scent of her shampoo wouldn’t allow him to forget her. The close quarters and the strain of evading assassins were to blame for the fascination with this particular client. Once they proved her innocent and neutralized the threat to her and Mikey, Anthony knew all these intense feelings bouncing around inside of him would dissipate.
Then he could figure out his future.
For now he had to decide how best to proceed with the task at hand. Viv and Mikey were his responsibility. He wouldn’t let them down.
“We’ll drive past your house first,” he said. “Make sure it’s safe.”
She looked over her shoulder at her son. “I’m having second thoughts about taking Mikey back there.”
Anthony glanced in the rearview mirror to see Mikey’s reflection. He’d fallen asleep. His chin rested on his chest, a Rubik’s Cube clutched in one hand and his tattered stuffed bear in the other. Tenderness expanded beneath Anthony’s ribs.
The boy was holding up well considering he’d been strapped inside the van for three days. Mikey was a good kid, with a kind heart and a curious mind. Though he lacked most interpersonal skills, he wasn’t dumb. He’d had no trouble with the many-pieced jigsaw puzzles Viv had bought or with solving the Rubik’s Cube time and time again.
“I don’t know what other choice we have.” Anthony didn’t want to see the boy hurt either, physically or emotionally.
Viv bit her lower lip. “We could take him to his teacher.”
“I don’t—”
“Barb Jetton would never hurt Mikey. She’s been working with him for the past five years.”
“Was her name on the list?”
“Yes. But she had little to no contact with Steven.”
Anthony changed lanes and pulled to the curb in front of a restaurant. Plastered across the brick side of the building was the face of a baby tiger as part of an advertisement for the National Zoo. Picking up his phone from the console, he said, “I’ll check in with Simone. See if Ms. Jetton sent up any red flags.”
On the third ring Lisa the receptionist came on the line. “Trent Associates.”
“Simone Walker.”
“One moment please.” She transferred the call.
“This is Simone.”
Anthony recognized the sultry tones. “Carlucci here. I need to know what you found out about a woman named Barb Jetton.”
“Well, hello to you, too,” she said, with a note of humor.
Anthony grimaced. “Sorry. Hi.”
“No problem. Just a sec,” she said. “Okay, I ran a background check on all the names on the list you gave me. Yep, her name is here. She has no criminal record. There’s nothing to indicate she’s involved in the senator’s murder.”
“Okay, good. Any other names pop out?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Too bad.” Anthony pushed away the stab of disappointment. Of course solving this case wouldn’t be that easy. “Thanks for checking.”
“Hey, we work together as a team here. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.” He hung up and then handed Viv the phone. “Call the teacher. See if she’s willing.”
Viv’s eyes filled with relief and gratitude. “Thank you.”
“But Viv, you need to be prepared. She may believe the news reports and think the worst.”
She made the call. Barb was home, and Viv pleaded her case. From the relieved smile on Viv’s face, apparently Barb wasn’t as convinced by the news reports as Anthony had feared she might be. But more importantly, Barb was more than willing to spend some time with Mikey. Approval loosened his tense shoulders when Viv explained to the woman on the other end of the line they needed to be discreet. Clearly Viv had a supporter on the other end of the call.
Viv directed Anthony to an older, well-maintained high-rise apartment complex at the corner of Sixteenth and Spring Street. They were parked and nearly home free, so to speak, when the wail of a passing ambulance on its way to the nearby hospital startled Mikey awake with a cry before Viv could get him out of the van.
“Shh, sweetie, it’s okay,” Viv said as she unbuckled the boy. “We’re going to see Teacher Barb. You remember Teacher Barb, don’t you?”
As Viv got Mikey out of the vehicle, Anthony assessed their surroundings. The apartment complex had a doorman and security cameras near the entrance. His wary gaze roamed the tree-lined street and the small visitor parking lot, looking for threats. Or cops. He didn’t see either.
“Story time,” Mikey said.
“That’s right. Teacher Barb always reads you stories.” Viv took him by the hand and started toward the building.
Anthony snagged her elbow. “Remember, the doorman won’t recognize you.”
She blinked and touched her now dark hair with her free hand. “Right. Thanks.”
When they entered the building the doorman rose from behind his desk. The guy was brawny and looked like he could handle himself. The name tag on his red sports coat read Emerson.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re here to see Barb Jetton,” Viv said.
Anthony assessed the layout. There was a blind spot by the mailboxes. A small sign on the wall indicated the stairwell was around the corner out of the doorman’s sight. There was a video screen on the desk showing the garage exit.
“Ms. Jetton just called down,” Emerson said. “She’s expecting you.” He gestured to the hallway. “Take the elevator to the seventh floor. Apartment 708.”
“Thanks.” Anthony hustled Viv and Mikey to the elevator. Viv coaxed Mikey inside with a piece of hard candy from her purse.
Once the doors slid closed, Mikey began twisting his index finger with his other hand and made a throaty whimper sound.
Concerned, Anthony asked, “Does he do that often?”
“When he’s agitated. He doesn’t like elevators.”
Anthony laid a hand on the boy’s thin shoulder. “I don’t much like them, either.”
As soon as the doors opened on the seventh floor, Mikey bolted, running full speed toward the end of the hall. Apparently, the kid knew exactly where to go. He halted in front of a door and then banged his head against the wood in two short raps.
The door swung open and a young woman with shoulder-length red curly hair and big brown eyes engulfed Mikey in a hug. Though Mikey allowed the contact without protest, his body stiffened and his expression of torture was almost comical.
“Oh, I’ve m
issed you these past few days,” Barb Jetton said as she released Mikey.
The boy would have darted past his teacher, but Anthony quickly caught him by the elbow. “Wait.” Mikey froze.
Two sets of female eyes turned toward him. To Viv, he said, “I need to clear the place first.”
With an understanding nod, Viv drew Barb out of the way so Anthony could enter. He made a quick sweep to be sure they weren’t walking into a trap. No matter how much Viv trusted this woman, he wasn’t taking chances. “All clear.” He touched Mikey gently on the head. “You can go.”
The kid darted past him and disappeared inside.
Barb slanted him a worried look before turning her attention back to Viv. “Wow. I hardly recognized you.”
Viv touched the short dark ends of her new hair-style. The uncertainty on her lovely face stabbed at Anthony.
“I like it,” Barb declared decisively and pulled Viv into a hug. “Everyone at the school has been so worried. None of us believe what they are saying on the news.”
Viv eased away, visibly relieved by her friend’s words. “Thank you. And thank you for taking Mikey.”
“Of course,” Barb said. Her gaze shot past Viv and eyed Anthony curiously. She held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Barb Jetton. And you are…?”
“Anthony.” He gave her petite hand a quick shake.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Does the doorman always vet the residence’s guests?” Anthony asked.
Barb nodded. “Oh yes. He’s a good watchdog.”
That was the answer Anthony hoped for. “Good. Where are the stairs?”
She pointed to her left. “Other end of the hall.”
“Any other outside entrances into the building beside the front door?”
“The parking garage entrance connects to the staircase. But you need a code. No one gets in or out without Emerson knowing. If he sees someone that doesn’t belong, he’s quick to call the police.”
“That’s good.” Anthony handed her a Trent Associates business card. “If we aren’t back in two hours, call this number. Ask for James Trent. He’ll know what to do. And please, don’t tell anyone else about this.”
“I won’t,” Barb replied, her expression grim.
To Viv he said, “We should go.”
Viv stepped into the open doorway. “Bye, Mikey. I’ll be back soon.”
When they were seated in the van, Viv leaned back and closed her eyes. For a moment he thought she was resting, but then he noticed her lips were moving. She was praying. An answering need rose in him.
Okay Lord, for her sake, for Mikey’s sake, I have to trust You’ll watch over them both. Please.
Vivian realized she’d slid lower in her seat as Anthony circled the block with headlights off even though twilight was making an appearance. The overhead streetlights shone on the wide sidewalks in round pools, leaving obscure dark patches of potential danger. They passed her and Steven’s stately redbrick Georgian house twice before Anthony finally parked the van a block away. Viv felt nothing as she gazed at the lonely structure. This part of her life seemed so long ago.
She hadn’t seen anything or anyone unusual in her neighborhood as they’d driven through. But she appreciated Anthony’s caution.
And she was glad she’d heeded the inner urging to keep Mikey away from the house. At first she’d worried she was being double-minded, but the closer they had traveled to D.C. the more anxious she’d grown. But now she had a sense of peace in regard to Mikey. She’d made the right decision to take him to Barb’s.
“This is the plan,” Anthony said before she could climb out of the van. “We’re going to go through your neighbor’s backyard to get to your house. Do they have a dog?”
“No, but what if they’re home? Mary and Len would freak out if they saw us running through their yard.” Her neighbors were getting on in years. She didn’t want to frighten them unduly.
“We’ll think of something. Just keep to the shadows. Hopefully, we can get in and out before anyone even realizes we’ve been there.”
“What if the people who’ve been after us, you know, the bad guys, are in the house? Or the police have the place staked out?”
Anthony checked his weapon. “We’ll deal with it. I don’t see any signs of a stakeout, and the crime scene techs would have released the scene by now, so there’s no reason to think the police are around.”
She tried to hide her flash of doubt. He did this sort of cloak-and-dagger stuff for a living. She had to trust he’d keep her safe. Truth was she did trust him on so many levels. Seeing him with Mikey, watching him protect them on their journey east, she knew he would do all he could.
But the unknown was still the bad guys. Who knew what they were capable of doing? She gestured to his weapon. “You wouldn’t happen to have another one of those, would you?”
He arched an eyebrow. “Do you know how to shoot?”
She lifted her shoulder in a half shrug. “Point and squeeze.”
“Right. No, I don’t. But you have your Taser, correct?”
“Good point.” She dug the small black weapon from her bag and then slipped the strap over her shoulder. She was ready to go.
Despite nerves stretched taut, she and Anthony strolled down the street toward her neighbor’s house at a leisurely pace. Hand in hand. Just a young couple out for an evening walk. If only life were that simple. Holding his hand played havoc with her senses, heightening the intensity of the situation.
When they reached Mary and Len’s front yard, Anthony pulled her into the inky corner of the Freni property and around the side of the house toward the fenced backyard. After tossing her bag over the fence, he gave her a boost. Heart hammering in her chest, she dropped down on the other side. Thankfully there was no one in sight. She grabbed up her black hobo bag and settled the long strap across her chest and shifted the bag behind her hip so the thing wouldn’t restrict her movement or get in her way. A moment later Anthony joined her.
The Freni yard was immaculate, with clipped hedges, potted exotic plants, a lush lawn with a circular patio filled with wood furniture. Interior lights blazed from the bank of windows dominating the back of the house, casting the patio in a soft glow.
In unison they dashed across the large stretch of lawn, just out of reach of the light. Reaching the fence on the opposite side of the yard, Viv almost dropped to her knees with relief. They hadn’t been spotted. Again, Anthony helped her up and over the fence, quickly following her into Vivian’s backyard.
“No problem.” Anthony’s voice oozed confidence.
Maybe not for him. She, however, was shaking. “You may be an adrenaline junkie but I’m having a heart attack here.”
He touched her shoulder. When he’d held her hand or helped her over the fence, his touch had been all business. Now he was soothing, warm, gentle, reassuring. Tempting.
“Deep breaths.”
Easy for him to say. She did as instructed. In—one, two, three. Out—one, two, three. Anthony checked his watch.
“You have an appointment?” she asked.
“Yeah, actually we do.”
From her peripheral, she saw a man drop down from the fence next to them. He carried a big, nasty-looking rifle. The strap to a large bag hung across his chest. Her hand holding the Taser rose in a protective gesture. Her startled yelp was cut short by Anthony’s hand clamped over her mouth.
“Shh. It’s okay,” he said.
She peeled his hand away and sucked in air. Stepping closer to Anthony she tried to make out the man’s features, but where they stood was too dark.
“Hey, bro, right on time,” Anthony whispered to the man shrouded in inky blackness.
“Did you expect anything less?” the man quipped as he withdrew a flashlight from his bag and handed it to Anthony.
Surprise arched through Viv. “Real bro, or ‘I’m too cool to use English properly’ bro?”
“Vivian Grant, meet Joe Carlucci. My real little brother.�
��
Not so little. Joe stood nearly as tall at Anthony. The darkness hid his face so she couldn’t tell if they resembled each other or not. She remembered Anthony mentioning both of his siblings were in law enforcement. “Are you Secret Service too?”
“Nope, ATF,” Joe responded, his deep baritone voice similar to his brother’s.
“Okay, let’s get this party started,” Anthony said as he took her by the elbow and led her to the back patio door.
Crime scene tape barred the access to the door.
Dread gripped her. She didn’t want to walk back inside the room where Steven had died. But going through the front was out of the question, so she bolstered her courage. The blinking light of the security system caught her attention. “The alarm’s on.”
“You do know the de-arm code, right?” Joe asked.
“Yes. I’ll have about twenty seconds to enter the code on the keypad before the alarm goes off.”
Anthony used the van’s key to cut through the yellow tape.
“You know how much trouble we’re in right now?” Joe stated in a flat voice.
“Hey, you’re a federal agent. She’s the owner. How much trouble could we get in? If you’re worried, you can arrest me when this over,” Anthony shot back.
“Naw. I’ll just tell Mom.”
Anthony snorted and popped the lock on the slider. The door slid soundlessly open. “Here you go.”
Ignoring the musty odor wafting from within the closed-up room, Viv hustled inside and entered the code on the alarm system keypad mounted on the wall. A moment later the red light turned green and the pad chimed indicating the system was disarmed.
Anthony and Joe flipped on the flashlights they carried.
“This way,” she said, anxious to find what they came for and get out.
Anthony held her back with a firm grip. He moved in front of her. “You stay between us.”
Keeping her gaze straight and not on the chair where she’d last seen Steven’s body, she directed the two men out of the study, through the entryway toward the dining room.
“Whoa!” Joe’s exclamation brought her up short.
Anthony swung the flashlight in an arc over the formal living room to their right. The place had been ransacked. Her beautiful Queen Anne–style furniture had been destroyed, the cushions ripped apart, the bookcases demolished and the accessories that made the room once so elegant now lay littered on the floor.
