Jason sighed. “I know, but I won’t feel safe until we’re airborne and San Francisco’s way behind us.”
The loudspeaker crackled.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Captain Harris. We’ll be taking off shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts. We’re flying into a front, so the ride may get a little bumpy. Flying time should be about two hours, forty-five minutes.” The loudspeaker went silent.
The increasingly loud whine of the engine announced the plane’s readiness. “Here we go.” The force of gravity pushed Jason into the seat as the small plane lifted into the air. He looked down at the woman on the seat next to him. Nikki seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He hoped she wouldn’t be too sore before the trek was over.
It was amazing how his life had changed in eight months. Last May’s botched raid on that survivalist ranch had almost cost him his life. He’d lost three good friends that night. The incident had broken him and brought him home to Larosa to heal.
He’d been fed up with putting his life on the line and then getting bad mouthed for doing so. Some people didn’t understand how dangerous homegrown terrorists could be. The real enemy wasn’t always the easy one to see. Before Labor Day, he’d given serious thought to resigning from the bureau. Everything had changed the night of that 9 1 1 call.
Whatever plans he’d made had been set aside. He was a lawman first. He hadn’t found Denise’s killer twelve years ago, but he would find this son of a bitch. He would protect Nikki and Mandy and see justice served. Failure wasn’t an option. He would find a way to atone for his sin of negligence that night. The father’s sin—add the sheriff’s sin to that theology, too.
When he’d bought the house near Boulder, Colorado, last spring, he’d had no idea how important his bolt-hole would become—or how quickly. Someday, after he retired from law enforcement, he planned to write a book based on the cases he’d worked. The house’s isolation would give him the space to pursue his dream. He’d had some of his things from Langley shipped to the house including his oil painting. He’d hoped to use a similar one-man-against-the-world idea as his book cover.
Autumn in Colorado was cool, but the golden trees were a sight to see. Snow would fall by mid-November blanketing everything in white. It was anybody’s guess how long they would be here. There were a number of ski resorts in the area, but his chalet was located off the beaten tract. Nikki wouldn’t be able to enjoy the outdoors, but Mandy would. At his request, Brad had arranged for the supplies to include children’s Nordic skis as well as other snow toys to keep the child occupied during the day. Adult equipment was aboard the plane, along with a few other “playthings” Troy had deemed essential.
The hum of the plane was comforting. He glanced at his watch. It was almost nine. Knowing they’d made a clean getaway helped him relax, and he closed his eyes.
“Are you awake?” Troy’s voice roused him.
“Yup. What’s up?”
“I wanted you to know that Thomas Lincoln officially ended our contract to protect Mrs. Hart. He sent the check by courier and told us our services were no longer needed. I take it he doesn’t know we’re here.”
“No one but the members of my team and the director knows you’re sitting shotgun on this one.” Jason shook his head. “Something about the guy’s insistence that it can’t be a hit man doesn’t sit right with me, but I can’t figure out why. I’ve been looking into the bastard for weeks, and he keeps coming up smelling like roses. Even after I told him about the two bodies we found in Auburn, he insisted we were barking up the wrong tree. He’s been trying to get me thrown off the case right from the beginning, and I take that personally. I know he’s from one of San Francisco’s prominent families, but old money isn’t necessarily clean. My gut says the guy’s dirty, and it’s usually right.”
Troy leaned back and stretched out his legs. “I don’t understand that man’s attitude any more than you do. I can make a few calls and see if I can turn up anything.” He chuckled. “I have friends in low places.”
Jason nodded. “I’ll bet you do. I dug, looked where I could, and found nothing. I’ve got the team’s techno geek digging deeper. Another source can’t hurt.”
“Consider it done.”
Satisfied, Jason closed his eyes once more and tried to sleep.
*
While the flight had taken slightly less time than the captain had expected, thanks to a tail wind, the fog and heavy rainfall had made the mountain roads treacherous, and the two-hour trek had become a three-hour one. Thank God for Troy’s incredible skills behind the wheel. Finally, the lights of the chalet welcomed them. It was well after two in the morning with the time difference, and the adrenaline generated by the excitement of the escape from the hospital and the flight had worn off. Everyone was exhausted.
Angie unlocked the door and preceded them into the house. She flipped the switch and light flooded the room. The electric heat turned up earlier by the agents who’d prepared the house had the place warm and cozy. Jason carried Nikki while Nathan had Mandy in his arms.
Cassie entered last and closed the door behind her. Troy was parking the vehicle and would be in shortly.
“When you said we were going to stay in a house in the mountains, I didn’t expect anything like this. And it’s really yours?” Angie asked. “I wouldn’t mind a place like this someday.”
Jason chuckled and shifted his burden. Nikki wasn’t heavy, but his shoulder ached from the awkward position in which he’d held it throughout the ride.
“Lock, stock, and mortgage. I used my share of the money from my mom’s estate to cover most of it. In ten years’ time, it’ll be all mine. I plan to retire here someday.” He glanced down at Nikki. “Let me get her settled, and then we can get organized.”
Built originally as a family retreat, the house was ideal for entertaining or putting up the help he needed on this case. Two stories high, the A-frame’s upstairs boasted three bedrooms and a bath. Downstairs, there was a large, newly renovated master bedroom with its own en suite bath. French doors opened out onto a private deck that ran the width of the house. Attached to the bedroom was a former nursery which he’d turned into an office.
A large, open-concept kitchen/dining room/living room with a stone gas fireplace filled most of the remaining space. A powder room and utility room completed the main floor. A back door, accessed from the patio under the deck, led to a mud room. The basement housed the furnace, water heater, and well access. A detached garage near the house sheltered the generator that provided electricity in the event of a power outage.
The first time he’d been there in July, he’d filled the days with trout fishing in the South Platte River and kayaking on Boulder Creek. The nights, he’d spent trying to forget the incident that had sent him back to Larosa in the first place. He’d replayed the scene in his mind, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, but the answers eluded him.
For months, his counterterrorist unit had been gathering intelligence on a small group of survivalists in Maine. The group had shown up on the radar when Homeland Security and the Canadian Border Services had busted an illegal gun running operation. In an effort to make a deal and save himself serious jail time, the driver had given up the buyer and the destination. When the FBI had arrived, the house was empty.
Three months later, intel came in from a reliable source that the man they were looking for and three of his men were holed up on a farm outside Portland. His superior had put the plan in motion. The team consisted of eight highly trained agents, all wearing Kevlar vests, men and women trained for the job, but they’d walked in on a war. No one had anticipated the firepower and the marksmanship they’d faced. Kevlar doesn’t help when the enemy shoots for the head and neck. Two of his best friends died instantly without even firing a shot. He’d been discharging his weapon at the house when a second barrage had come at them from the garage. The bullet had struck him in the armpit, one of the vulnerable spots even when someone was wearing a vest, and lodged i
n his lung. He’d been damn lucky the trajectory of the bullet had been altered by his ribcage; otherwise, it would have traveled straight to the heart. Erika, the newest member of the team and the woman he’d been dating for six months prior to that night, had seen him fall and had left her secure position to rush to his side. For weeks afterwards, when he’d closed his eyes, he’d see the look of surprise on her face and the perfect red circle in the center of her forehead.
The rest of the team had taken the bastards down, but no one could explain how they’d known they were coming. He’d lost three good friends and all the press saw was that there had been two teenagers in the ruins of the house afterwards—teenagers who’d killed without the least amount of guilt—but the press insisted they’d been innocent bystanders.
Emotions screwed you up. They affected your rational thinking skills. Twelve years ago, he’d let his feelings for Denise stop him from throwing her ass in jail when he should have. She died. Eight months ago, Erika had let her emotional attachment to him pull her to her death. It seems every time he got seriously involved with a woman, she died. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He looked down at the woman he carried. No. It was better to be alone than live with more of that kind of guilt.
He gently placed Nikki in the king-size bed, while Nathan settled Mandy on the nearby cot. The child had awakened once in the van, upset to be in the dark, but she’d gone right back to sleep, lulled by the movement of the vehicle. He’d be on another cot in the room next door, where he’d sleep for the duration of the assignment. He’d be close enough if Nikki needed him, but far enough away to give her some privacy. The others would all sleep upstairs.
“I’ll take it from here,” said Cassie.
Jason nodded. “She moaned a few times near the end. The meds must be wearing off.”
“I’ll give her something. The longer she sleeps, the better.” Nathan walked over to him. “How’s your shoulder holding up? Do you want something for it?”
“No, thanks. It’s been worse, and I need to stay sharp. I’ll be out there if you need anything.”
Jason left the bedroom and walked into the great room where Troy and the others waited. While Nathan was here primarily as a physician, he’d handle double duty as Jason’s partner on the protective detail. They’d work in six-hour shifts—two on, two off. The only one not doing guard duty was Cassie who’d look after Nikki and Mandy. They’d divvy up whatever else had to be done on an as needed basis. Everything was in place. All they had to do now was wait—and he hated waiting. Patience was a virtue he had in short and limited supply.
Chapter Eleven
Jason stood in front of the living room window. Just after six in the morning, it was still dark out, and the four hours’ sleep he’d had weren’t enough to rest his body and ease the ache in his shoulder. It was still raining. He hoped it would let up later in the day. He wanted to check on the gasoline for the generator. Power outages were common in this kind of weather.
He turned on the gas fireplace to dispel the early morning dampness and chill. Troy and Angie had stayed on guard throughout the night and were getting breakfast ready. He and Nathan had the next six-hour shift. He sipped the coffee Angie had made—good and strong the way he liked it.
Troy came over to stand beside him. “There are scrambled eggs with ham ready for you in the kitchen. Angie’s gone up already, and Nathan’s on his way down. I did a couple of perimeter sweeps during the night, another one before I came in. The flashlight and slicker are in the mud room. I didn’t see anything suspicious, but I think we need to have a look in the woods this afternoon. If we need to rig something up, I have a man who can be in and out within ten hours. I noticed a lot of animal tracks last night. How’s the hunting around here?”
“Lots of deer and rabbit. There’s supposed to be bear and wolves too, the odd small cat. You’ll hear the coyotes on a clear night. I’m not much of a hunter, if you exclude the two-legged kind, but I like to fish.”
Troy nodded. “I’ll see you around noon.”
Nathan entered the room. The young soldier was clean shaven with hair cut military-short. He wore a khaki t-shirt accentuating the fact he was fit for duty, and his dog tags hung from a metal chain around his neck. His service pistol was tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
“Chow’s ready. Mrs. Hart and Mandy are still asleep. I told Cassie I’d call her when they awoke. Might as well let her get another hour’s rest while she can. So what can you tell me about this man we’re protecting them from? Cassie didn’t know much.” He sipped from the coffee mug he carried. “By the way, thanks for pulling the strings to involve me in this.”
“Not a problem. I needed a doctor, and you were a perfect fit. Let me get something to eat, and I’ll bring you up to speed.” Nathan followed him back to the kitchen where they sat and continued their breakfast. “We don’t know who our killer is, but his code name’s The Butcher. He’s a freelance contract killer, originally from New Zealand, who operates in Europe. He leaves no witnesses. Each of his executions are well-planned. Nikki and Mandy are the first to survive one of his assaults. He’s left behind bodies, lots and lots of bodies—not only his victims, but his associates.
Nathan whistled. “He sounds like a real bad ass.”
“According to Ivan—he’s the Interpol connection working with us on this—they’ve been chasing him for ten years, and this is the first time they have a viable lead. Let’s hope he believes Nikki is still in the hospital, and they get him there.”
* * *
She shivers. She’s cold, so very cold. She lies on a sticky, red floor. The room’s ablaze, but the fire gives off no heat. There’s someone on the floor beside her, and she tries to get to him, wants to pull him closer to her, and protect him, but he’s just out of reach. Her lungs struggle to draw in the oxygen she needs to survive, but does she want to? She feels hopeless, helpless to do anything. She can’t get closer, and she has to get closer. She can’t leave him there alone. She loves him. He needs her.
The faceless demon who haunts the blackness stands before her, a bloody bag in his hand. He approaches and grabs her by the hair and pulls her to him, away from the one she has to protect. She fights harder to get away and the pain of hair tearing from her scalp brings tears to her eyes. She screams. She tries to pull away from his grasp, but her body refuses to obey. She can’t escape. She’s tired, so tired, too tired to fight anymore, and stops struggling.
“You win,” she mouths. “Just make it stop.”
Suddenly, her angel appears. He glows brightly, eclipsing his face. His wings are spread wide. She hears his voice. He’s trying to tell her something, but she can’t make out the words. All sound is garbled. The demon pulls her tightly against him. She feels the proof of his lust. She struggles, but try as she might, she can’t escape his clutches. The angel reaches for her, his touch comforting, and the demon relaxes his grip. Fear and panic give way to security and comfort, and she slips back into the comforting nothingness of sleep.
* * *
Nikki sensed eyes on her, watching, staring, and awoke with a start. Mandy stood beside the bed, eyes fixed on her.
“She’s awake,” she yelled, a grin blossoming on her face. “Cassie, Mommy’s awake.”
“Good morning, sweetie.” Nikki yawned. She wouldn’t mind waking up to that happy little face each day.
Mandy ran over to the wall and tugged open the heavy drapes concealing French doors.
“Look. We’re not in the hospital, Mommy. We’re in Colorado. Jason said we flew here while we were asleep. Other people are here, too,” she added, her stage whisper almost as loud as the rest of her speech.
She climbed up and sat crossed-legged on the bed next to Nikki.
“They’re protectors. I had a protector at Aunt Mitch’s house, too. Grandpa said the bad people who killed Daddy, Kylie, and Danny might still want to hurt me.”
Nikki frowned. Poor little thing. How much counselling would she need to get pas
t this? Mandy’s last words sunk in and the frown turned to a scowl. Hadn’t her father said he didn’t believe anyone was after them? When had he changed his mind?
“Jason says I can go outside when it stops raining. I had breakfast. Are you hungry? They have coffee here. You like coffee.”
Mandy’s early morning enthusiasm was contagious. Nikki set her dark thoughts aside and smiled. “Then I guess I’d better have some. Do I like it black?” Her voice sounded better this morning. Perhaps the hoarseness in her throat was gone at last.
“Nope, cream and two sugars.” Mandy giggled.
Nikki turned to say something, but her gaze was drawn to the doll in her daughter’s arms. She knew this doll, remembered its baby-powder scent. It was the one in the photo, but it was more than that. She reached for the toy.
“This is Benji, isn’t it?”
“You remember! He used to be your doll when you were little like me! He smells like a baby. No matter how many times you wash him, he still smells that way. Do you remember anything else?” She screwed up her face in concentration. “Do you remember your promise to get me a puppy just like Joey’s?”
Nikki hoped remembering something from her distant past was a good thing. A doll from thirty-some years ago wasn’t much, but it was a beginning.
“No, I don’t remember anything else about me, but I do recall the promise I made yesterday to get you a puppy. Tell me about this dog you want. Is it a big one or a small one?”
“It’s a small, brown, black, and white one with a pointy face.”
“That’s quite the dog. Maybe we can look at pictures on the computer later and see if we can find one like it.”
A tap sounded at the partially-opened door before it opened wider. Jason came in carrying a breakfast tray, loaded with more food than she could possibly eat. He set the meal on the hospital-style tray-table.
“Good morning, ladies.” He smiled warmly at Mandy. “I heard you talking. One like what?”
On His Watch (Vengeance Is Mine Book 1) Page 14
