Cold Terror

by Susan Sleeman

  “Now, don’t you dare make Hannah go out there to retrieve her belongings.” Opal planted her hands on ample hips. “You can take me, and I’ll pack it all up for her.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Hannah protested.

  “Necessary, no. But I insist.” Opal’s face firmed with resolve.

  “Thank you.” Hannah said. “Someday maybe I can pay you all back for your kindness.”

  “Nonsense,” Opal said. “We’re glad to help, aren’t we Gage?”

  He nodded. “Besides, the doctor said you should rest.”

  “I will, but it feels so good to be safe that I want to enjoy it for a little bit.”

  Mia’s eyebrow quirked in a question mark, and Hannah instantly regretted her words. She didn’t want David to worry, and now she’d made this child worry.

  “How old are you?” Hannah asked to change the subject.

  Mia looked confused for a moment then muttered, “Seven.”

  “David is five. Maybe you can play with him when he wakes up.”

  The shy little girl didn’t respond but turned her attention to her strudel again. Hannah had to admit that Mia’s reserved manner deflated a bit of her happy mood. Children usually responded well to her, and she wasn’t used to striking out with them.

  Gage set Mia on the stool next to him and faced Hannah. “I need to head out and meet with the team. Maybe you’d like to come along and see the compound.”

  “I should be here when David wakes up.”

  “Don’t worry about him.” Opal jutted out her curvy hip where her hand still rested. “I’ll keep an ear out for him.”

  “Then, yes,” Hannah said, thinking fresh air sounded good. Going with this very handsome man who she’d once loved sounded even better.

  “Great.” He got to his feet. “Blake mentioned a few other things I need to bring you up to speed on.”

  Right, this wasn’t a simple trip together, a chance to get fresh air. It was the opportunity to discuss how in the blink of an eye her life had been torn apart.

  5

  A cold wind whooshed through grass and leaves and the sun slid behind ominous clouds, but Hannah didn’t care. She was glad to be outside…to breathe deeply without fear. She climbed into the small utility vehicle next to Gage. The wind bit into her body like an icy winter day instead of the end of summer. She shivered and Gage shrugged out of his jacket.

  “Take this.” He handed it to her.

  She thought to argue, but Gage had always been a gentleman, and she knew he’d insist so she held her tongue. He rested the worn leather on her shoulders, his touch that had felt so safe yesterday now raising warning bells in her heart. His gaze lingered on hers, a message in the depths of his eyes she couldn’t decipher. She desperately wanted to linger there. Wanted to figure out what he was thinking, but that was such a bad idea.

  “Where exactly is this business you mentioned?” she asked to distract them both.

  He turned his attention to the vehicle and got it started. “It’s about a mile down the drive. I didn’t want Blackwell Tactical anywhere near the house where it might frighten Mia. I don’t suppose you really want a tour, but I didn’t want to talk in front of her.”

  “Actually, I am interested in seeing your property.” She figured if his business was a ramshackle mess, it would tell her just how skilled he and his team might be in protecting them. Not that she expected Gage to do anything halfway, but people change. Especially people who had been through great loss, something she was an expert at.

  They set off down the blacktop drive that soon turned into a rough gravel road. She nearly lost her balance and grabbed onto the side bar as they wound through thickly wooded grounds until they reached another heavy metal fence secured with a thumbprint reader. She had to admit the extra security made her feel even safer, but she still wondered about Gage’s need for it.

  Once inside the fence, a large steel barn-like building came into view. Just beyond it, she noticed a city street with building fronts made of wood resembling a Hollywood movie set.

  He pulled up to the barn and parked. “Jackson is doing a close-quarters combat training inside, and I need to check in to make sure everyone arrived. Mind if I do that now?”

  “Of course not.” She climbed from the vehicle, her sore muscles now stiff from the cold. But she tried not to show the pain so Gage wouldn’t whisk her back to the house.

  They stepped inside the heated building. A series of walls about seven feet high divided the large room. Six men stood in a single line by what appeared to be a barricaded doorway.

  Gage came to a stop next to her, the musky scent of his aftershave reminding her of the many times he’d held her close. She moved a step away, earning a raise of his eyebrow.

  “What are they doing?” she asked to change his focus.

  “This is a simulation of what these officers might find when approaching a house holding a dangerous suspect. I’ll have to wait for Jackson to finish running this drill before I can talk to him. Is that okay?”

  She nodded and watched as the first man rammed the door and the men piled into the room. Gunshots sounded over a loudspeaker, startling her.

  “I should have warned you. We use sound effects to try to simulate situations that could actually happen during a raid.”

  “No, stop!” Jackson’s raised voice came from the other side of the wall. “Everyone back outside.”

  The men trooped out and stood waiting. Jackson, dressed in tactical gear matching the other men, stepped up to the guy who’d led the team inside. “The first guy goes in deep. If you stop at the doorway, it forces your partner to go around you—wasting valuable time—and keeps you from receiving solid backup.”

  “Roger that,” the man said.

  “The second you enter that door, stack left, and the next man stack right.” Jackson cast an appraising look around the group. “Everyone got it?”

  They nodded.

  “Let’s go again,” Jackson said. “This time practicing with dry fire.”

  “What’s dry fire?” Hannah asked Gage.

  “They aren’t using live ammo.”

  Jackson stepped back through the opening and reattached the door. “Go whenever you’re ready.”

  The men lined up, and the leader burst through the door again, this time disappearing to the left. The second man moved in, too, and headed to the right just as Jackson told them. Their movements were precise and quick. Like a clipped dance.

  The third man grabbed a grenade from his belt and tossed it into the space. Smoke soon billowed over the wall. Gunfire followed. And chaos exploded like the grenade as men shouted and shots continued to fire.

  “Foolish move, Williams,” Jackson’s voice rose about the noise. “You’re dead.”

  Dead. If they were actually entering a home, a compound, any building with a combatant on the other side, the man would be dead. This was what Nick’s life had been like. Breaking down doors. Running into gunfire. Danger lurking in every corner. One false move and someone died.

  She’d been so afraid of losing Nick when he was downrange that she’d never allowed herself to think of the details of his days. But he was gone now and she let her imagination run wild. He’d lived his life like these men. Faced situations as dangerous as this one. Not just occasionally, but all the time. And when he’d come home and been distant, she hadn’t understood. Not really. She loved him, but she’d made his life harder than it needed to be. Always begging him to engage. To let go of his sullen mood. Buck up and be part of the family.

  Why hadn’t she given him more space? Understood?

  Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry.

  Nausea roiled in her stomach, and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

  “I…” she said to Gage, but at his concerned look she almost lost it. She couldn’t stay there. She raced for the door. Pushed outside. A lump rose in her throat. She gulped in deep, agonizing breaths.

  Gage followed her and stepped in front of he
r. She couldn’t look at him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She couldn’t answer. With a gentle finger, he took her chin and lifted her head.

  “I can help,” he said softly. “Tell me.”

  “Nick…I…never…” Tears pricked her eyes. She drew in a breath and let it out. “I never understood his life. His need to decompress at home. I made it difficult for him. Complaining about how distant he always was. Now he’s gone, and I can’t tell him how sorry I am.”

  She clutched her arms around her stomach, trying to fight the sobs that wrenched from her body.

  “Aw, honey.” Gage gently pried her arms open and drew her into his.

  She went willingly and cried into the solid wall of his chest until she could cry no more. Then she became aware of him. Of his heartbeat. His nearness. His warmth.

  He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. Surprised, she blinked at him.

  “I carry one for Mia. We always need to clean up something or other, and carrying a purse with wipes is not an option for me.” He grinned then, and as she imagined him with a purse, her mood lifted enough to return his smile.

  “If it’s any consolation, you aren’t the only spouse who had a hard time dealing with the struggles soldiers have when coming home,” he continued. “Combine that with the frequent absences of spec ops guys like Nick, and it’s even harder.”

  He frowned, maybe thinking about his time as a Special Operations Operator. “I wish I could say I was the model husband and Cass didn’t have to deal with this. I wasn’t. We had some rough patches, but we toughed it out.”

  Her last day with Nick came flashing back. They’d fought and instead of working things out with her, he’d taken off. And had never returned. A sobering reminder of Gage bailing on her and the reason she couldn’t depend on him. She pushed free of his hold.

  “Nick likely understood,” he added. “We all do.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Before he died, our marriage was on the rocks. I like to think if he’d lived we would have worked things out, but I’ll never know.” Tears threatened again, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep them at bay.

  “I know your tenacity and unwillingness to give up on things that are important to you, and I’m sure you would have kept your marriage together.”

  “I gave up on you.”

  There was no mistaking the hurt in his eyes. “You had no choice. I got myself reassigned to the other side of the country.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry for the way I handled things back then. I was a real jerk. I could blame it on being young, but it was more than that.”

  She hadn’t forgiven him for bailing on her and didn’t know what to say. Plus with her emotions so raw, this was the last thing she wanted to discuss. “We should get going.”

  Gage eyed her for a long moment, then without a word escorted her to the vehicle. He didn’t have to say anything. He carried his disappointment in his posture. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe he really did regret leaving her back then, but what difference did that make now? None.

  She settled on the worn seat and tugged his jacket tighter to keep out the wind.

  He slipped behind the wheel. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to Nick’s funeral. I thought it would be awkward for you.”

  “That was considerate of you,” she said making sure he knew she was sincere.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how did he die?”

  “He went hiking and rock climbing on his own. Fell off a cliff. I begged him to take someone with him, but he believed he was invincible. Maybe if he’d brought a buddy along that day, he’d still be alive.”

  “You can’t think that way. I know. I’ve done it for the past three years. Thinking if I’d been stateside I might have prevented the accident that took Cass and injured Mia. Does me no good. Just the opposite.”

  “I get it. Trust me. Get it big time. It’s been two years since Nick passed away, and I’m still trying to figure out life without him.” She held up a hand as he opened his mouth to speak. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself, and I know everyone has something to deal with. I’m not looking for pity, just saying I’m still finding my way.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything about pity. I was going to say that Cass died three years ago, and I still struggle with things.” His lips tipped up in the sweet, soft smile, so contrary to this guy’s tough and rugged exterior. “Like braids and ponytails. I don’t know what I’d do without Opal.”

  Despite her angst, at the mention of the housekeeper, Hannah’s mood lifted. “She seems wonderful.”

  “She’s the best.” He looked like he wanted to add something but changed his mind and got them moving down the short street.

  “We tried to make this set as real as possible for our urban tactical classes,” he said above the engine, but didn’t slow down.

  She took in the tree-lined street holding a bank, post office, grocery, and other retail stores. Even a Starbucks. “You did a great job.”

  They soon reached a bigger field with a small hangar and helipad. A chopper sat on the pad.

  Gage stopped close by. “Our air assault classes are headed up by Coop. In the distance you can see our range where we teach shooting classes.”

  “This is impressive. Very impressive.” She was about to ask for additional details, but an alarm chirped from his phone, drawing his attention.

  “That’s a reminder of a class I need to teach.” He silenced it. “We should talk about my call with Blake.”

  She braced herself against news she didn’t want to hear. “What did he say?”

  “First, the skull is gone.”

  “Gone,” she muttered and processed the news. “So my attacker does have something to do with that investigation.”

  “Not necessarily. He could have taken the skull to misdirect us.”

  “Really? Do you think he could be thinking that clearly when he was in such a rage?”

  “I’ve run into a lot of cold-blooded killers over the years, and I’ve found that they often think clearly. Not rationally, but clearly.”

  The term cold-blooded killer flashed in her brain like a neon sign, and she could hardly process the words. “I know this guy attacked me, and if I hadn’t gotten away…well…I haven’t let myself go there, so I haven’t really thought of him as a killer until now.”

  “I’m sorry to bring it up, but we have to face facts if we want to catch him, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Blake also discovered that the boat was reported stolen from a nearby town. His team lifted prints, but since you say he wore gloves, they won’t likely pan out. DNA’s another story. They were able to lift a blood sample from the hammer at the cottage, but it could take weeks to get the DNA results, plus the FBI database may not return a match.”

  “So what happens next, then?”

  “He’ll keep after the forensics leads, but he wants you to make a list of investigations where you did reconstructions or sketches that led to convictions so he can look into them.”

  “You mean because the defendant would be angry at me?” she asked as she pondered the implications. “Sounds like Blake really does think this is about me and not the reconstruction.”

  “He still thinks it’s possible, and at this point he has to follow every angle.” Gage cast an assessing look her way. “Think back to defendants who glared across the table at you. Did any of them threaten to get even with you or seem extremely angry? Or maybe one of them had a limp?”

  She tapped her finger on her chin as she thought, but finally gave up. “No one comes to mind right now.”

  “Spend some time thinking about it. I’m sure you’ll come up with someone.” Gage squeezed her hand then got the vehicle moving forward again.

  Concentrating so hard had left her head throbbing, and she rubbed her forehead to ease the pain.

  How had she found herself in this situation? Someone wanted to hurt her. Kill her.
Not because of the reconstruction, but perhaps because of something she’d done earlier. Her job for crying out loud.

  Unbelievable. Crazy unbelievable.

  If she didn’t come up with the right name so they could locate and arrest her attacker, he’d keep coming after her, and maybe next time he would succeed.

  6

  Gage got up from the sofa and paced, his hand automatically drifting to the holstered Glock he’d strapped on the minute Mia and David had gone to bed. It wasn’t likely that he’d need to use the weapon, but he wasn’t taking any chances with Hannah’s life.

  Sure, he’d protect anyone needing his help, giving up his life if necessary, but such an overwhelming protective need had consumed him like this only once before. The day he’d heard about the drunk driver plowing down Cass and Mia.

  He stopped near the dining room to peek in on Hannah. Sitting at the table, she was tapping a pen on her chin, the notepad in front of her holding several names. She met his gaze.

  “Looks like you came up with a few people who might want to harm you,” he said.

  “I don’t know.” She twisted a long strand of hair between her fingers. “I mean, my attacker said he wouldn’t let me destroy him, but I’m not trying to destroy anyone, and listing names seems like a waste of time.” She let her hair fall as a pensive sigh slipped from her mouth.

  He pointed at her list. “Who’s your top suspect?”

  She circled the first name. “Fitz Ellwood. He threatened me, but he had no reason to follow through on it.”

  Gage leaned against the doorjamb. “Tell me about him.”

  “He was accused of abducting two teenage girls and killing one. I was called in to meet with the girl who escaped to create his sketch. Once the police gave the sketch to the media, it was less than a day before they arrested Elwood. He glared at me in court and said if he was convicted, he’d get even.” She shuddered.

  “And was he convicted?”

  She shook her head. “Sadly, no. So he has no reason to come after me.”

  “How long ago was this?”