Christmas Conspiracy
Page 2
He struggled to his feet, his anger barely in check. He should have been the one to breach the perimeter. He was in charge. He was the best trained. He should have taken the risk. Thanks to the yo-yo staring at him, Jake had lost all control of this op. Losing control meant people died.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The shots sounded from a handgun inside the room. Brady carried a rifle, which meant the masked man had opened fire. Jake listened for Brady’s return fire.
Nothing.
The kidnapper could have taken Brady out, or maybe Brady took cover and didn’t have a shot. Either way, Jake had to get inside.
He eyed the deputy. “Go back to your car and don’t leave it until you’re told to do so. You got me?”
He nodded.
“Now!”
Jake waited for him to step off, then bolted for the door.
“Entering,” Jake said into his mic as he jerked open the door to find Brady, rifle raised, his concentration on the sight as he marched toward the back door.
“Got in just in time to draw the kidnapper’s fire,” he called out. “His shots went wide. Missed the director. He fired on me and took off with the baby. I had to take cover. Couldn’t get a clean shot without risking the baby’s life.”
Jake wished Brady could have taken the shot, but as an extremely capable deputy, if he said there hadn’t been a clean shot, then no shot existed.
Jake glanced at the director. She lay on her back, but she stirred, and her eyes blinked open. Her gaze met Jake’s for a moment before they closed again. He wanted to check on her, but the baby took priority right now.
At least he knew Brady had been wrong in the truck. They weren’t too late, and Ms. Long was alive.
Now Jake needed to make sure she stayed that way.
TWO
Jake charged to the door, his chest aching like crazy, but with lives on the line, his pain didn’t matter. Finding the baby was what mattered now. He moved forward, caution in his steps, and scanned the playground. Mulch crunched under his feet near the pint-size playground structure, and the gate ahead swung in the breeze.
He wanted to burst through the opening, but that would be foolhardy, so he paused and swept the area. A larger playground in the distance held a tall play structure with a thick layer of mulch in the fall zone. A six-foot fence surrounded the area and Brady, rifle slung over his shoulder, scaled the fence boards.
“Report,” Jake said into his mic.
Brady didn’t lose a beat at the command but hurled over the top. “Kidnapper went over the fence here. Couldn’t take the baby.”
Jake looked down and spotted the carrier sitting near the fence. The child squirmed and kicked her little feet. He let out a heavy sigh.
“Continue foot pursuit,” Jake commanded. “I’ve got the baby.”
He crossed the playground and directed his voice at his mic. “Cash, call in backup to track this guy, and get some uniforms on scene to set up a perimeter. We’ll need a detective dispatched. Skyler has the best closure rate of county detectives, and I suspect she’ll be assigned to the investigation, but give her a call so she has a heads-up and can ask to work the case.”
“Roger that,” Cash replied, and Jake knew he would immediately phone their teammate.
When not working as a negotiator on the FRS, Skyler served as a Special Investigations Unit detective, and since this case involved a young child, Jake wanted the best investigator on the job.
He crossed the yard and bent over to pick up the carrier. His chest screamed in agony. Of course. His adrenaline was subsiding, and the pain from the deputy’s shots would grow by the minute.
The baby blinked her lashes at him, her eyes wide and interested when he’d expected tears. Some babies were good-natured, and nothing riled them. His little sister had been like that. All giggles and smiles, all the time. That could be true of this child.
Her smile widened into a toothless grin, and his pain receded. His team had done a good thing today. They’d successfully stopped the abduction of this little princess. That felt good. Real good.
She suddenly frowned and narrowed her tiny blue eyes, then screwed up her face like a wrinkled prune and started to whimper.
“Shh.” He gently shook the carrier, mimicking motions he remembered from helping care for his brother and sister. “It’s okay. You’re safe, Kelly. At least that’s what the director said your name was.”
She didn’t settle but wailed in earnest, flailing her arms and legs in her pink snowsuit. Jake stopped and stared at her for a long moment.
What in the world was he supposed to do with a crying baby?
He commanded an emergency response team, leading them into some of the most volatile and dangerous situations law enforcement deputies could encounter, but a baby, let alone one whose cry gave emergency sirens a run for their money, brought more fear to his heart than the toughest spots he’d been in.
He hadn’t had any experience with babies since he’d lost both of his siblings when he was a mere kid himself, but he figured she wanted to be held. Or changed. Once they got inside, he’d hold her. But the other? No way. He wasn’t about to attempt that.
To comfort her, he gently swung the carrier as he walked, each swing like a knife to his chest, but the motion served to slow the crying to a whimper. Inside, he found the director still unconscious on the floor. He hurried over to her, set down the carrier and knelt next to her. He released the carrier to lay two fingers on her wrist. Her pulse beat hard but her breathing seemed shallow.
“So, Rachael Long,” he mumbled. “What did the guy inject you with?”
He wished Darcie Stevens, the team medic, had been with them. She possessed the training needed to enter a volatile situation and would already be tending to the director. Other medics didn’t have such skills. They were required to wait until the suspect no longer posed a threat to their safety before treating Ms. Long.
Jake adjusted his mic. “Are there medics standing by, Cash?”
“Affirmative.”
“Send them in as soon as you’re sure it’s safe.” Jake rocked the carrier as he looked at Rachael.
The heater kicked in, sending a whiff of her sweet perfume wrapping around him and temporarily overpowering the antiseptic odor of bleach permeating the air. About five-five, she was small compared to his six-foot-two frame. She appeared fit, had curling, shoulder-length hair and freckles peppered high cheeks. She seemed sweet, almost innocent. Exactly what he’d expect of a child care director.
She wore a wedding ring, but preliminary information gathered as the team raced toward the scene told him she’d lost her husband in a car crash about four years ago, and she hadn’t remarried.
Now she lay there. Near death? He wanted to do something to help.
He jumped to his feet and retrieved a few child-sized blankets from the cribs. He returned to cover her, then turned his attention to Kelly, whose cries had escalated. He ripped off his tactical gloves and took off his helmet, figuring it might be scaring her. Then he released her restraints and lifted her into his arms. The steel plates of his vest weren’t likely comfortable, so he lowered her and held her slightly away from his body while he rocked back and forth.
“Shh,” he whispered and listened to the chatter on his comms unit to keep updated on the chase.
The kidnapper had disappeared from Brady’s view, so Cash had called in a search dog. Jake didn’t get his hopes up, though. Since most properties were fenced in the city, and dogs often lost the scent at fence lines, odds were against them in locating the kidnapper.
Jake continued to listen while rocking the baby until she settled down and drifted to sleep. The front door opened, and the sound of gurney wheels finally echoed down the hallway.
Two men entered. The thin guy who stepped in first
wore a Santa hat. The other guy was bald and tough-looking, and Jake suspected he’d never worn a Santa hat in his life.
Jake stepped back to give them access to Rachael. “You up to speed on the incident?”
The guy with the hat knelt on the floor next to Rachael. “The woman was injected with something and is unconscious but breathing.”
“Exactly,” Jake replied.
“Dog has lost the scent,” Brady said over Jake’s earbuds, then reported his exact location.
“Widen the perimeter and stand ready,” Jake replied. “We’ll have to hope 911 receives a call reporting the kidnapper’s movements.”
And hope he doesn’t harm anyone as he makes his escape.
“Roger that.” Disappointment lingered in Brady’s tone.
Suddenly weary beyond his thirty-five years, Jake ran a hand over tense muscles in his neck and watched the medics do their thing. Once they had an IV going, they loaded Rachael onto the gurney.
An overwhelming desire to protect her and Kelly from additional harm rose up and caught him off guard. He worked each callout with the thought that he would do everything he could so he didn’t have to live with regret, but he’d never taken a personal interest in the people he rescued.
Until right now. But why?
Could have to do with losing his infant sister and six-year-old brother, he supposed. When he’d just turned thirteen, they, and his parents, perished in a bombing, leaving him with a soft spot in his heart for children in danger and the special people who cared for them. And a burning desire to see anyone who threatened them pay for their actions.
He glanced at Ms. Long on the gurney as the medics strapped her in, and her eyelids fluttered.
Lord, please. I know you decide who lives or dies, but please let this woman live. Please.
Jake crossed the room and stood over her. She blinked a few times and seemed almost lucid.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice sounding thick and heavy. Then her eyes widened. “Kelly!”
“She’s fine and right here.” Jake held the baby up for Rachael to see.
“Thank you, sweet Jesus,” Rachael whispered, her words slurred. “You were looking out for us.”
Her lips tipped up in a sweet smile, and Jake’s heart hesitated. Despite the medics standing by, he couldn’t seem to pull his gaze from hers.
“We should get her and the baby transported,” the medic said, ruining the moment.
“We’re going with you.” Jake reluctantly pulled away and settled Kelly in her carrier, then glanced back at Rachael. He wasn’t sure if Kelly or Rachael looked more vulnerable.
Didn’t matter, now, did it?
There was no way he’d let anything bad happen to either of them. He’d make sure they were both protected until he was certain that neither of them remained in danger.
* * *
Rachael saw the light flashing over her head before she opened her eyes. Bright fluorescent tubes wavered in and out of her view in squiggly lines. She concentrated harder and battled the residual fog from the drug.
She heard rushed, hurried voices in the distance. Smelled the antiseptic of the hospital, reminding her she lay in a hard bed in the ER. She’d woken thirty minutes ago and talked to the doctor, but the drug’s effects kept pulling her back under. She had to try harder to stay awake so she could talk to Pam and see Kelly.
She blinked hard and made an effort to clear her vision.
“She’s awake,” a deep male voice said from across the small room.
Did he mean her—and who was he, anyway?
She heard his footsteps as he came near, and she forced her head to turn toward the sound. The resulting wave of dizziness sent her stomach roiling. She blinked until she could focus on a large man wearing a black uniform now looking down on her.
“Ms. Long,” he said softly, his face so familiar—but she was sure she didn’t know him. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“I’m Deputy Sergeant Jake Marsh. I was one of the deputies who found you unconscious in the baby room.”
Ah, so that was who he was. She remembered him now. His kindness in the ambulance. Holding precious Kelly’s carrier for the ride, safe and secure in his hands. He’d said a neighbor noticed the masked man enter the playground and called 911. He arrived to help and had chased off the kidnapper.
“Deputy,” she said. “Yes. I remember you.”
“Call me Jake.”
“I’m Rachael.”
“It’s nice to see you’re awake, Rachael.” A dazzling smile broke across his face.
A little zip of awareness shot through her stomach, catching her off guard. She’d been only vaguely aware of him this far, as she hadn’t been fully awake when he’d ridden along in the ambulance. Then after the medics rushed her into the ER, the staff forced him to wait outside her door, and she hadn’t seen him since then.
He was a fine-looking man. Six foot two, maybe, muscled and brawny. Chocolate-brown eyes. Olive skin. Ebony hair. Yeah, he was a striking man, but why was she noticing? She’d been immune to men’s charms after she married Eli. Especially immune after he died in the car accident that was all her fault, so where was the reaction to this guy coming from all of a sudden?
She was probably confusing this interest in him with gratitude for his rescue and protection. After all, he’d saved her life. Or maybe the drugs had caused her to let down her guard. Either way, she wouldn’t waste time analyzing it when she doubted she’d ever see him again.
“Thank you for your help,” she said.
He gave a clipped nod. “It was a team effort, and we were just doing our jobs.”
His job. A dangerous and difficult job, she suspected. One she could never do, at least not if she hoped to sleep at night.
Scenes of the attempted kidnapping flooded her brain. Her fear. Her anger. Little Kelly, vulnerable. Everything came to her except details of the intruder’s face. That she couldn’t seem to call up from her memory. In the times she’d been awake, she’d tried to recall what he looked like, but only fuzzy images came to mind.
The doctor had told her that the police found an empty vial of ketamine on the floor at the center. Doctors and veterinarians used the drug for conscious sedation. He said as the drug left her system, she might remember the kidnapper in more detail, but the levels of drug in her blood meant she wouldn’t likely recall much of anything after the ketamine had taken hold.
She might not remember the kidnapper’s face, but she would never forget Kelly sleeping peacefully in her crib, danger lurking all around her.
“Is Kelly really okay?” She managed to get the words out through a mouth that felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
Jake smiled. “She’s fine. She’s with her mother.”
A woman stepped around the deputy and displayed a wallet that held a shiny badge. “I’m Detective Skyler Hunter. I’ll be handling this investigation, and if you’re up to it, I have a few questions for you.”
Rachael ran her gaze over the woman. She looked like she was an inch or so taller than Rachael, had red hair and wore khaki pants and a blue blazer. The lapel held a Christmas button that said Jesus Is the Reason for the Season.
Never having been questioned by the police, apprehension settled in Rachael’s stomach, but the concern in the detective’s expression seemed sincere and gave Rachael hope that the questioning wouldn’t be too bad.
“You’re the one who’ll catch this terrible man, then?” Rachael asked.
“I’ll do my very best, yes.”
Rachael eased herself up on her pillows until she reached a sitting position. The room swam, but she battled the dizziness and focused on the detective again. “Not to be rude, but how good is your best?”
“That’s not
rude at all. In fact, I get asked that question all the time.” She sounded pleasant enough, but Rachael heard frustration in her voice. “I’ve been a deputy for twelve years and a detective for the last seven of them. My case closure rate is the highest on our team.”
“I’m confused,” Rachael said. “Are you a detective or a deputy?”
“Both, actually. All sworn staff except the sheriff himself are deputies, no matter the rank or position attained in the agency. So, for example, Jake is a sergeant in charge of the First Response Squad, but he’s still a deputy.”
“First Response Squad. That’s the team who came to my rescue.”
Jake nodded. “We’re a team of six and are dispatched on emergency callouts, especially those with a potential hostage situation.”
“Please thank the others on the team for me,” she said.
He nodded. “Detective Hunter serves as a negotiator on the team, but she is a well-qualified detective, too.”
For some reason Rachael trusted his opinion. “Okay, good. Then let’s get those questions out of the way. I want to visit Pam and Kelly, and I need to talk to my staff at the center and call all of my parents.”
“Slow down there.” The detective held up her hands. “Ms. Baldwin is off limits until I take her statement, and we can’t allow you to talk to her.”
Rachael met her gaze. “Why in the world not?”
“When people involved in incidents compare stories, they often alter their own stories to match.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“It’s not a conscious thing,” Jake offered. “But it happens.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll wait to talk to Pam, but I can still get my records from the center to call the parents and my staff.”
“In this age of technology, I’m surprised you don’t keep that information on your phone,” Jake said.
“Some directors may, but I don’t. I care for a hundred and twenty children, and I won’t risk having my phone stolen and the contact information for these families falling into the wrong hands. Besides that, for tax purposes, I keep my business and work activities separate whenever possible. I do keep the contact information on an iPad that I take home every day and use for center business only. Since I came by ambulance from the center, my iPad is still in my office.”