It didn’t take long to get the judge loaded into the black SUV. Paula climbed into her BMW and peeled away, her scowl saying more than any words she might have uttered.
Chloe tipped the water bottle and downed half of it. From the bowl on the ground, Hank lapped up his water too. They’d worked hard for the past two hours training and keeping their skills razor sharp. She’d chosen Finlay Park for their morning exercise and couldn’t help visiting the steps Rachel had told her about. Or the parking area where the girls’ cars had been found. Sweatpants and the long-sleeved hoodie kept her warm along with the workout, and sweat dripped down her temple.
Clapping hands caught her attention and she turned to find Brady walking toward her, applauding hers and Hank’s performance. “Nice job.”
“Thanks.”
“You always did have a special love in your heart for animals.”
“Yep. Probably why I love all my brothers so much.”
He grinned. “Ahh, a little witty this morning, are we?”
“It’s the fresh air. Trying to clear my head and think this case through.”
Brady sobered. “How’s the investigation going?”
“Slow.” She shook her head. “A lot of things just don’t make sense. And the things that make sense individually, don’t come together as a whole.”
“That’s sort of clear.”
“I know.”
“I’ve heard of Alessandro Russo. He’s a bad dude.”
“I looked him up before Hank and I came out here for our workout. He’s got a lot in common with Tony Bianchi.” Just saying the man’s name sent shudders through Chloe. Tony Bianchi had been a powerful organized crime figure in their city. Fortunately, he’d been brought down by her mother and Columbia’s finest that had included Izzy and her brother, Derek, especially.
Hank walked over to Brady and dropped his rope. Brady threw it and Hank gleefully bolted after it. “Guess Russo decided to stake his claim after Bianchi was killed.”
“I guess. The door was kind of left open.” Chloe sighed. “Now we’ve got to shut it again.”
“Right.”
“How are the people you fished out of the river?”
“Doing well. I checked on them yesterday. The mom had a concussion and a broken collarbone. Kids were in their car seats when they hit the water. They had a bad scare but are recovering.”
Hank returned the rope and Brady gave it another throw.
“That’s good to hear,” Chloe said.
“The job has its good moments.”
“Are you glad to be diving again?” He’d resigned from the dive team to work as a detective full-time, but a shortage of experienced divers had sent him back to filling in when necessary.
“I love it. It’s tough doing both, but until they hire a couple more divers, I don’t mind.”
Brady continued the game with Hank while they talked. “Does it seem to you that human trafficking around here is on the rise?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I think it’s always been rampant, but yeah, we’re just more aware and actively looking for the victims now.”
“And sometimes they just fall in your lap,” she said, thinking about the girls in the trailer.
“Rachel didn’t know anything about Penny, huh?”
Chloe frowned. “No.” Hank loped back and sprawled on the grass at her feet, panting and happy with the extra time playing his favorite game. “I think about her every day,” she said. “Even more so now. I really believe if we find Russo, we’ll find what happened to Penny.”
“You think she’s still alive?”
“I pray she is, but honestly, for her sake, it might be better if she’s not. Is it awful to think, much less say, that?”
“I’ve thought it.”
“I feel like we’ve failed her. A whole family of cops and we can’t find her or the people who took her? That’s unacceptable.”
Brady didn’t answer with anything other than a nod. So. She wasn’t the only one who felt that way. As far as she knew, she was the first one to voice it, though. He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “We won’t give up.”
“I know.” She stepped back. “Have you talked to Damien?” Penny’s brother had her very worried about his mental state.
“No. He’s still blaming himself for not stopping her that night, for not moving fast enough to get the license plate of the guy driving.”
“Who we know was Carson Langston, which probably isn’t his real name.”
“I know and Damien knows. And he’s still out walking the streets looking for her every minute he’s not working.”
“I’ve been checking websites. As many as I can find. So many girls,” she whispered. “I want to rescue them all.”
“You know as well as I do that we’ve got undercover officers on those websites day in and day out. We’re making busts and putting these scumbags behind bars, but I’ll admit, some days it feels like we’re swimming against the tide.”
“I keep telling myself that it makes a difference to the ones we do manage to rescue.”
He smiled. “Absolutely. Gotta look at it that way or we’ll go nuts.” He glanced at his phone. “Linc said Blake and Jo were heading to the courthouse with the judge. I’ve got to run and tackle some paperwork. Catch up with you later?”
“Sure. I’ll be at Mom’s on Sunday.” She paused. “Unless I’m not.”
“Same here.”
Chloe watched him leave, then woke her snoring dog. “Come on, Hank, time to go.”
Hank rolled his eyes at her as though to make sure she was serious.
“Come on, you lazy mutt.”
He bounded to his feet and nudged her hand. She scratched his head while she watched Brady climb into his truck. Her brothers were good men. Much like Blake MacCallum. Now there was a guy who’d gotten a raw deal early in life, but had risen above it. One had to respect that.
And she did. A lot. In fact, she felt a bit more than respect for the man. Old crushes apparently died hard. She knew Blake was all business right now. Romance wasn’t on his radar and rightly so. But she couldn’t help wishing that once Rachel was found—and they would find her—Blake would be willing to explore the possibility.
She tucked the water bottle into her pack. Until then, though, she and Hank had work to do.
JoAnn drove while Blake rode in the back with the judge. The man set his briefcase on the floor at his feet and checked his phone one more time before looking up. “All right, you’ve got my undivided attention. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
“We need you to think a little harder about who might want you dead. And why they’d go to such lengths as kidnapping my daughter and ordering me to kill you if I ever want to see her again.”
The man’s mouth moved, but no words emerged.
Okay, maybe Blake could have softened that a bit, but he was ready for something solid to chew on. Finally, the judge snapped his jaw shut. “Kidnapped your daughter?”
“Yes. She’s . . .” He couldn’t say “fine” because she wasn’t. “. . . not with them anymore, but the fact is, someone tried to use her for leverage to get me to kill you.”
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“We need names,” Jo said. “We need to go through your case files.” She paused. “And I think we can narrow that down to anyone involved in human trafficking.”
Judge Worthington rubbed a hand down the side of his face, and Blake figured he was working on processing what had just been thrown at him. The man gave a short nod. “Fine. I’ll pull any files from my office that I think will be a possibility and we’ll go through them.”
“They’re not digital?”
“Sure, but I keep a hard copy in my office,” he said. “I’m not a digital guy, other than my smartphone.”
“The hard copies might be better,” Jo said. “It’ll be easier to go through them. And less strain on the eyes.”
“True.
Let’s get him into the courthouse. We’ll grab the files on our way out. I’ll let Linc know and he can pull in some agents to help us.”
“Right,” Jo said, “since he’s the lead on the investigation, I would think he might appreciate being informed of what you’re doing.”
He scowled at her in the rearview mirror. She simply raised a brow. Of course he knew he was overstepping slightly.
JoAnn pulled under the covered area at the back door. Since the threats had started, the marshals made sure the judge entered and exited the building through the protected entrance.
Once inside, they passed through security with the judge nodding to the guard monitoring the metal detector. “You’re new here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Glad to have you. Keep up the good work.”
“Will do, sir.”
The three of them cleared, they walked single file down the hallway to the elevator that would take them up to the second floor where the judge’s office was located.
He waited outside his office with Jo while Blake cleared the area. Blake noted that nothing looked out of place. All was in order. He returned to the hallway. “It’s clear.”
Judge Worthington entered and removed his robe from the back of the door. He slipped into it, then nodded to the outer office. “Lila has the hard copies of the files. I’ll have her pull the ones related to human trafficking.”
“That would be very helpful,” Jo said, “thanks.”
“Now, it’s time for me to head to court.”
“We’re right behind you.”
Back in the hall, JoAnn led the way while Blake brought up the rear.
Just as they approached the back entrance to the courtroom, a door pushed open at the end of the hall. Blake looked up to see a security guard step through and let the door shut behind him. He pocketed the key card that had allowed him access. “Y’all need any help?”
“We’ve got it, thanks,” Jo said without looking at the man.
Blake frowned and met the brown eyes under the ball cap. He’d left strict orders that no one was to have access to the hall during specific times. Apparently, this guy didn’t get the memo. “This hall is off limits. Can you make sure no one comes back this way?”
“Oh right. Sure.” The security guard lifted a hand in a wave and turned to leave. Blake made a mental note to reinforce the no-access request. Or change it to an order.
Blake turned back to Jo and the judge and held the door open for the man to step through.
Movement from the corner of his eye brought his attention back around. And time slowed.
The security guard raised his arm, the weapon in his right hand shifted to aim at the judge.
“Gun!” Blake shouted and shoved JoAnn into Judge Worthington as the crack of the weapon filled the hall. The bullet slammed into the door. The second bullet whizzed past Blake and hit Jo.
She cried out and went down, her Glock clattering to the tile floor. Blake fired three rounds at the disappearing figure. All three bullets hit the door. He could only pray one made it through to hit the man he’d been aiming at. And hadn’t hit any innocent person beyond.
He whirled back to his partner. “Jo!”
She waved at him with a grimace. “Got my vest,” she gasped. “Check him. Is he hit?”
Judge Worthington. The man lay on the floor just inside the courtroom door. Blake stepped over Jo who struggled to get her breath and knelt beside the judge. “Sir? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said and rolled to his feet. “Just landed pretty hard on my wrist. How’s Jo?”
Law enforcement had already descended. Cory Little, a fellow deputy marshal who had been on the judge’s detail, dropped beside them. Blake caught his eyes. “He’s not hit. Stay here and cover him. I’m going after the shooter.”
“Blake—”
“I saw his face. Put out a description.” He rattled it off.
“Right. Go. I’ve got him.”
Blake stopped for one brief second to check on Jo, who once again motioned that she was fine. “Okay, hang tight.”
“Yep.”
He sprinted down the hallway. The man had pulled his ball cap low, but thanks to that nanosecond glimpse, his face was now imprinted on Blake’s memory.
His footsteps pounded down the hall and he slammed through the door the shooter had slipped back through after firing his shots. The stairwell echoed its emptiness and Blake breathed a relieved and grateful thanks that no one other than the shooter had violated the no-access request.
Relief quickly turned to angst.
The ball cap lay on the floor, a bullet hole in the middle of the bill.
But no blood, and no shooter, were to be seen. Blake texted an update.
Hat recovered. Everything else the same.
He caught his breath for a split second. Which way? He spun in a circle and growled. He’d lost the shooter.
Chloe dove for the floor when the first gunshot rang out. In the split second it took for her to realize that the bullets weren’t coming her way, she had her weapon out. Hank pulled on his leash and she was actually surprised to find herself still holding it.
Huddled on the floor, she now waited, noting others in the same position around the lobby of the courthouse. When no more shots sounded, law enforcement bolted into action.
And Chloe with them.
She shot to her feet, weapon in her right hand, Hank at her side. Court security officers would handle the other courts, securing the doors and locking their areas down. The Special US Marshals at the magnetometers, the ones at the elevators, and those roaming the halls would handle the perimeter doors. Chloe blended with the rest of the officers, looking for the shooter and pointing frightened people toward safe areas.
Where was he? Who was he? Or she?
Whoever it was could be anyone and anywhere at this point. Had he hit his target? How did he get a gun inside?
Security was beyond tight. They checked everything. Weapons, IDs, everything. There was no way he could have snuck a gun past the checkpoints.
So, maybe he didn’t bring the gun inside but acquired it once he was already in the building?
From who? It wasn’t like the list of armed people in the courthouse was very long.
Her heart pounded in time with her feet. She hadn’t planned on being here today, but thanks to Brady’s announcement, she decided to find out if they’d learned anything from the judge. And now someone was shooting.
“Chloe!”
She pulled up short. Hank skidded beside her on the slick floor. She spun. “Blake? Did you see him?”
“He was after Worthington. The judge is safe, but I need you. Bring Hank.”
Chloe raced after him, stopping only when he reached the door to the back hall that led to the courtroom she figured Judge Worthington was supposed to be sitting in. He pointed. “Can Hank track whoever was wearing that hat?”
“Of course.”
“Let him get a sniff and let’s go.”
Chloe reached for the hat, wishing for a set of gloves. It was evidence, but it could also lead them to an active shooter. She’d ask forgiveness later. She let Hank get a good whiff. “Hank, zoek!” The command to track.
Hank put his nose to the floor, then lifted it in the air and took off, nearly jerking her arm from the socket. Chloe hurried after him, spotting the FBI agents now on the scene. With her badge in plain sight and Blake on her heels shouting at people to clear the way, she stayed with Hank, letting him have his way.
He led them to a stairwell at the end of the lobby. Blake pushed the door open and up they went. Out on the second floor, down the hall, and back into the stairwell at the other end. Then up. “What’s he doing?” Chloe demanded.
“Trying to make sure no one is following him.”
“He wasn’t counting on Hank being here.”
“Exactly.”
On the third floor, Hank wanted out of the stairwell. She let him have his head onc
e more and they slipped onto the floor, weapons drawn, her nerves about as tight as they’d been when she’d faced the muzzle end of the gun yesterday.
A flash of movement at the other end of the building caught her eye. “There he is! Police! Stop!”
But her words spurred him on.
“He’s going for the roof access,” Blake said and peeled around her. Hank didn’t seem to like that and put on an extra burst of speed. Chloe’s lungs burned and her side ached as she kept pace behind the dog until they came to a stop just outside the door. Chloe grabbed a few quick breaths.
Blake opened the door and gave a quick look. A bullet pinged off the doorjamb and he jerked his head back inside. “Gotta get this guy.”
“I’m right behind you,” Chloe said.
Blake rolled out the door and Chloe followed, her weapon aimed, looking for a target.
No more bullets came their way. Hank strained to go, but Chloe wasn’t ready to release him. Not yet. On the roof, her feet crunched the gravel. She turned her back to Blake’s and watched for the shooter.
Hank barked and lunged toward the air-conditioning unit.
They ran toward it, skidding to a halt at the corner. Blake nodded to her and she nodded back. They buttonhooked around the edge to see . . .
. . . nothing.
Chloe turned to watch their backs.
“Stop! Federal Agent!” Blake’s shout pulled her back to see the man at the edge of the building. Very near the end of the roof. And still holding his weapon.
Chloe released the leash. “Hank, stellen!” The command to bite—or take down. Hank zipped from her side, heading straight for the suspect.
The man stumbled back, lifted his weapon at the exact moment Hank’s jaws clamped around his forearm. The gun fell to the surface of the roof and the shooter’s harsh scream scraped across her ears. Chloe ran toward him. “Get down! Get down!”
Hank didn’t give the man much choice. Within a second, his knees kissed the rooftop, his cries of pain still ringing. Blake kicked the weapon out of the man’s reach.
“Hank! Loslaten!”
Hank detached his teeth from the forearm and the shooter curled into a fetal position, his arm tucked into his midsection.
Called to Protect Page 9
