by Rebecca Deel
Ivy darted a quick glance at Alex. “No, sir.”
“Excellent.” He grabbed the phone handset on the wall and punched in a series of numbers, shared a murmured conversation before turning. “Orderly will be here soon, my dear. He’ll take good care of you.”
“Some of my men will have to go along, Doc,” Ethan said from his position by the door. “Del and Ivy are protected witnesses.”
“That’s fine.” He motioned Del to a chair at the side of the room. “Your turn. Read any good books lately?”
She grinned. “A new Clive Cussler that you’ll like.”
“Dirk Pitt has a way with the ladies.”
“He doesn’t hold a candle to you, Dr. Anderson. I know quite a few ladies who notice every time you walk down the street or into a room. Say the word and I’ll start setting you up with each woman on the list of contenders as the future Mrs. Anderson.”
He laughed. “I probably know every one. They turn up each week with a different casserole in their hands.” He paused. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I started passing the casseroles along to the rescue mission. My freezer is filled with more casseroles than I’ll eat in a lifetime. Now, my dear, flattering my old bones will not make your arm hurt less. Let’s look at the damage.” Anderson unwrapped the bandage Rio had placed around her arm and whistled. “Grazed by a bullet. Your arm looks good, though. Josh’s medic did a fine job.”
A sharp rap sounded on the door.
Alex moved in front of Ivy, fingers curled around his weapon’s hand grip while Josh shifted position to better cover Del. Ethan opened the door, his body blocking entrance into the room.
“I’m here to take a patient to x-ray.”
“It’s all right, Chief Blackhawk,” Dr. Anderson said. “This is the orderly I’m expecting.”
Ethan moved aside to admit the linebacker-sized orderly pushing a wheelchair. The auburn-haired man pulled up short at seeing Josh and Alex and their weapons. He glanced at Ethan. “Everything okay, Chief?”
“A couple men will go with you to x-ray.”
“Why?”
“To keep me from snarling at orderlies who ask stupid questions,” Ivy said, a scowl on her face. “I’m not having a very good day. A wise man wouldn’t test my patience.”
“Be nice, Ivy,” Josh said, gaze still on the orderly, assessing. Dude could flatten them. He should avoid the refrigerator and take up swimming.
“A pint-sized Bridezilla,” the man muttered.
She narrowed her eyes. “What did you say?”
“Don’t mind Harry,” Dr. Anderson said, waving aside Harry’s comment. “His social skills are stunted.”
“Try nonexistent.”
Harry the orderly scowled at Ivy.
Alex took a step toward the orderly before Josh signaled him to stand down.
“Let’s get Ms. Monroe in the wheelchair.” Anderson motioned Harry forward.
Ivy shrank back from the approaching man.
“I’ll get her.” Alex cut the orderly off, scooped Ivy into his arms, crossed the room with a steady stride. Harry’s eyes widened when he spotted the black Ka-Bar strapped on Alex’s thigh and backed off, swallowing hard.
“Once you have Ms. Monroe settled, Harry must push her. Hospital rules.”
“That’s fine.” He eased Ivy into the chair, brushed bangs away from her sweaty forehead. “Gives me a chance to hold her hand. Another step in my plan to win her heart.”
Ivy’s cheeks blazed a hot pink. Josh smiled. Del’s cousin appeared smitten with his sniper. And his partner was laying the boyfriend act on thick. His brow furrowed. At least he thought Alex was keeping his cover. His friend hadn’t dated anyone seriously in years. To focus on Ivy meant Alex would have to fight through the protection layers she’d erected. Alex was tough. If any man could break through her defenses, it would be him. A gift for both of them. Also entertaining to watch the deadly sniper fall to the temptation of a tiny woman.
“Sure. Whatever, man.” Harry moved to the back of the wheelchair. “If you’ll get the door, Chief, we’ll go.” His tone said he couldn’t get to x-ray and back fast enough.
Door open, Josh signaled Rio to accompany Alex and Ivy. He suspected Ivy would be more comfortable with Rio than Quinn or Nate. Rod trailed along behind the entourage in the hall, cell phone to his ear.
“Let’s bandage your arm and I’ll write a prescription for antibiotics. Make sure you take it all. Chief Blackhawk can fill your prescription at the hospital pharmacy while we wait for the x-ray results.”
Ethan turned his head, listened to commotion in the hall. A pointed glance at Josh. “Your reprieve is gone.”
Josh smiled. Hand pressed to Del’s back, he felt her muscles tighten. Jordan might try taking his badge. But Josh had an ace, one Jordan knew nothing about. Wasn’t in his official records. Most of his missions weren’t. Special Agent Jordan was in for a surprise if he pushed too hard.
An officer opened the door. “Chief, the FBI and marshals are here. They insist on seeing you and the ladies.”
Ethan sighed. “Send them in.”
Josh expected Jordan to barrel through the door first, but two strangers pushed across the threshold, a woman and man. They assessed the room at a glance. About the size of Ethan, the male scanned the emergency room, frowned. “Where’s Ivy?”
“X-ray,” Ethan replied. “And you are?”
“Sorry. Deke Creed, U.S. Marshal.” He shook Ethan’s hand and inclined his head to the woman by his side. “This is my partner, Stella Grayson. We’re part of the protection detail for Del and Ivy.”
Josh stiffened. Were they part of the leak?
“He’s a good man,” Del whispered. “We like him and Stella.”
She didn’t know if they were good officers. Del hadn’t mentioned these two marshals in her recitation of the night’s events. Deke and Stella hadn’t been on duty. So did they call in the hit or leak information that helped the shooter find Del and Ivy? Working blind made his muscles knot. Reminded him of many Delta missions. Hard to decide who was trustworthy. Misplaced trust meant his people died.
“Police Chief Ethan Blackhawk.” Ethan shook Deke’s hand, motioned to Josh. “Officer Josh Cahill.”
“Who’s with Ivy?” Stella asked. “Wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to guess the women were brought here for medical treatment. She can’t be without protection.”
“Ivy’s with one of my officers and two bodyguards, both former military.”
“Are they good?” Deke asked.
“More than good,” Josh said.
Jordan pushed by the marshals. “We’ll take it from here, Blackhawk. Go back to writing tickets and helping old ladies cross the street.”
“You already had your chance, Jordan. You screwed up. My people deserve the best and that’s not you.”
“Ms. Peterson and Ms. Monroe are under our protection.”
“Didn’t do such a great job of that, did you? You need local help.” His soft voice belied the steel in his tone.
“From you and your merry band of hick cops? I don’t think so.”
“If you want your witnesses to stay alive, reconsider.”
“Or we’ll make you,” Josh said. The body language and cockiness told him the fed’s response before he opened his mouth.
Another sneer from the FBI agent. “Talk to me when you have twenty more years under your belt as a law enforcement officer, Cahill. In the meantime, leave this to the real professionals.”
Josh snorted. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Jordan.” At the nod from Ethan, he pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number he’d not needed to use before now, hoped never to use, then pushed the speaker button. The sound of a ringing phone filled the room.
A click, then, “Josh Cahill. How are you?” a female voice said.
He grinned. She sounded terrific. Upbeat, happy, unlike the last time he’d seen her. “I’m great, Charlotte. Heads u
p, sugar. You’re on speaker. How’s the baby?”
“Sam’s amazing, growing like a weed, thanks to you.”
“You did the hard part.”
“Sure, after you rescued me from the kidnappers.”
“You followed orders like a champ, showed great courage under fire. Saved yourself and Sam. Did Sam receive his birthday gift from the team?”
“Haven’t you seen the stuffed elephant in the press photos? He won’t go anywhere without it. How’s your team?”
“Ornery as ever.”
A laugh. “Although I’d love a chance to talk to you at length, you didn’t call to shoot the breeze. What can I do for you? Name it and it’ll be done.”
“I want to speak to your father. I need a favor.”
“Is that all?” Charlotte sounded disappointed. “This doesn’t make us even. Griff and I owe you for our son’s life.”
Josh knew from the shock on Del’s face and the surge of red flooding Jordan’s that they knew the identity of the woman. “A phone call, Charlotte. And there’s no debt owed, okay? Sam’s safe birth was a gift for a bunch of grizzled soldiers.”
“No way, Josh. We will always owe you and your team. Anytime, anywhere. Can Dad reach you at this number?”
Knowing he wouldn’t win any argument with Charlotte Martin Abrams, he said, “Yes. Thanks, sugar.” Josh ended the call.
Ethan burst into laughter. “Well played, Josh. Well played.”
Del stared at Josh. “You’re friends with Griff and Charlotte Abrams, President Martin’s daughter and son-in-law?” How could she not know that about him?
Parts of Josh’s past were shrouded in secrecy. What kind of military work had Josh been involved in? She remembered something about a special operations force being responsible for Charlotte’s rescue from kidnappers. A band of terrorists had taken her hostage on one of her overseas trips representing her father at the funeral of a foreign dignitary. While escaping from the terrorists in a desert country, Charlotte gave birth to her son, Sam, a bundle of energy who ran around the White House, charming everyone. Rumors abounded that the Secret Service adored that black-haired toddler.
Josh shrugged.
“Alex and the rest of your team were involved?”
He smiled.
“Is this something I can ask about later?”
“Depends on what you ask.”
She grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun. Josh Cahill, man of secrets, many he couldn’t share because of national security. “I want to meet Sam. I know a series of books he’d love. The main character is a blue elephant like his toy.”
Josh’s cheeks flamed. Embarrassed over the toy? Blackmail fodder.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he murmured.
His cell phone signaled an incoming call. She glanced at the screen. Blocked number. Her heart leaped up into her throat. President Martin? She glanced at the livid federal agent staring daggers at Josh. Amusement lit Deke and Stella’s eyes. Guess they weren’t Jordan fans, either.
“Josh Cahill, sir. You’re on speaker.”
“What can I do for you, son?” President William Martin’s distinctive bass voice rolled from the phone to fill the silence in the emergency room.
“My team and I want to provide protection for two witnesses in Judge Reece’s murder. The feds had a breach in security that almost got these women killed. Sir, they’re friends of mine. Good friends. One marshal was killed, another critically injured.”
“Who’s the agent in charge, Josh?”
“Craig Jordan, sir. He’s listening in as well as a couple marshals.”
“Special Agent Jordan?”
Jordan cleared his throat. “Yes, Mr. President?”
“Use Josh and his team for security. Their security clearance is higher than yours. You can trust them. I’ll clear the arrangements with the FBI director.”
“But, sir . . .”
“Not open for discussion, Special Agent. Josh?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Need anything else? I have a meeting on hold.”
“Not right now, Mr. President.”
“Whatever you need, let me know. We’ll get it done. I’ll never be able to repay you for the lives of my daughter and grandson. I don’t know how you and your team pulled off that mission, but I’m grateful you did.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Josh ended the call, glanced at Jordan. “Satisfied?”
He scowled. “Keep in touch through Blackhawk. Check in every six hours or I’ll consider you on the run with my witnesses.” Jordan turned and stormed from the room.
“There you are, my dear. All set.”
Dr. Anderson’s voice dragged Del’s gaze from Josh. She glanced down at her newly bandaged arm.
“Stella and I want to help protect Del and Ivy,” Deke said. “We also want a chance at this guy. He murdered a fellow marshal.”
“Why should we trust you with their safety after the colossal failure of your last op?” Josh said.
“Check us out,” Stella said. “You won’t find anything suspicious because there’s nothing to find.”
“I intend to.” Josh’s eyes glittered as he stared at the pair of marshals. “Until you’re cleared by my team, you won’t ever be alone with Del or Ivy.”
“Fair enough,” Deke said. “Just remember it’s a two-way street, Cahill. How do we know we can trust you? You and your team are unknowns for us. Who’s to say you won’t turn on us?”
“President Martin vouching for me isn’t enough?”
“What mission was Martin talking about?”
“The classified kind.”
Del rose and slid her hand into Josh’s, laced their fingers together. “What about your family, Deke? If you stay on this protection detail, you may not be able to go home for a while.” She glanced at Josh. “I don’t know much about security matters, but I’d guess you’ll take us somewhere unknown to the marshals for our protection. Right?”
He winked at her. And her heart rate sped up. She was pathetic. Who knew one wink from Josh Cahill would set her heart racing?
“My wife knows what happened,” Deke said. “She expects me to be out of touch for a while.”
Ethan’s phone chirped. He stepped into the hall. A minute later, he returned and shut the door, expression grim. “Burns is out of surgery. Doesn’t look good. I’m going up to ICU.”
“Ken’s a friend. Okay if I come along?” Deke asked, sorrow shadowing his gaze.
Del closed her eyes. So much death and suffering. And for what? No one knew why Judge Reece was killed, his death following so quickly on the heels of his mother’s passing.
The door burst open, Alex holding it for Harry to push through the wheelchair carrying a scowling Ivy. She lifted a large white envelope the size of a regular mailer. “X-rays, Dr. Anderson.” Her eyes widened. “Stella! What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.” The marshal gave Ivy a hug. “Glad you’re safe. Have to admit, I expected the worst when I heard you and Del were missing.”
“If Josh and his men hadn’t showed up when they did,” Del said, “we wouldn’t be here now.”
“Let’s have a look at these x-rays.” Anderson took the package, withdrew the film and clipped them to the lighted board mounted on the wall. After a moment, he smiled. “No fractures. We’ll wrap it. Stay off it for a few days.” He turned to Alex. “You make sure she cooperates.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t sound so happy about your new responsibility,” Ivy groused.
“Tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.” Alex grinned and ruffled Ivy’s hair.
Ethan and Deke returned with Rod. None of them looked happy. Did Marshal Burns pass away? “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Problem.” Ethan stared at Harry. “Wait in the hall.”
Harry startled. “I’m finished.”
“I’ll follow you out,” Dr. Anderson said. “I’ll arrange crutches and have the prescriptions f
illed.” He smiled at Ethan. “Looks like you’re busy right now.”
“Thanks, Doc.” He waited until the door closed behind the doctor and orderly.
“What’s going on?” Josh asked.
“Spoke to Burns for a minute. He recognized the shooter.”
Ivy’s hand clamped over her mouth. Alex moved close enough to lay his hand on her shoulder. Despite her dread, some of the worry she carried about her cousin lightened. Ivy needed a friend like him at her back.
“That’s good, right?” Del said. “You guys can arrest him.”
“It’s not that easy.” Ethan massaged the back of his neck. “The safe house was compromised because this guy used to be a marshal.”
“He used to be one of us?” Stella’s mouth dropped. “Do you know him, Deke?”
“Unfortunately. He won’t stop until we take him down, Stel.”
Del shivered. What kind of man betrayed his fellow marshals, killed one, critically injured another. Would she and Ivy ever be safe in the custody of the marshals? He knew tactics and places they hid witnesses.
“That’s not all.” Josh said. “Tell the rest.”
“You sure?” Ethan’s gaze shifted to Del. “Does she know about your unit?”
He shrugged. “A matter of time.”
A grin. “Like that, huh?”
He smiled at Del. “She’ll break my heart if she dumps me.”
“Fat chance of that happening,” Ivy said.
Del shifted her attention from Josh to the police chief. “Tell us everything, Ethan. The time for secrets is over.”
“This guy hasn’t always been a marshal. He used to be special operations.” Ethan’s gaze zeroed in on Josh. “He’s former Delta.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Wait, Ethan.” Josh motioned the rest of his team inside the room. As soon as the door closed behind Quinn, Josh returned to Del’s side and said to his men, “Shooter used to be Delta.”
Nate whistled softly, the rest scowled.
“What’s his name, Ethan?” The sooner his unit learned the traitor’s identity, the faster they could dig up information on him. Intel was key in winning this battle, and it was a battle. This former Delta operator had declared war on his brothers-in-arms.
