Safe Harbor

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Safe Harbor Page 14

by Hope White


  “It’s obvious that your small department is incapable of protecting the witness. Since she’s been in your custody she’s had her life threatened multiple times and was brought to the scene of a suspect interview turned murder. How is that competent protection?” Trotter looked at Nicole. “Ma’am, you have to see how dangerous it is to stay in Waverly Harbor police custody. Please, come with me. We’ll put you up in a safe house.”

  “Agent Trotter, all you care about is uncovering information to prove Edward Lange was a criminal,” Nicole accused. “I don’t think you’re serious about finding his killer and I know you don’t care about me and what I want.”

  “But Detective Donovan does? Lady, you’ve got a bad case of transference. Your emotions are driving your decisions and they’re going to get you killed. Donovan doesn’t care about you any more than I do, right, detective?”

  Nicole eyed Alex. A war raged on behind those blue eyes. If he said he cared about her he could be disciplined and lose his job for being unprofessional; if he said he didn’t care he knew it would crush Nicole.

  “Chief, do you need my statement about today?” she said, changing the subject.

  “Yes, I’ll have an officer take you to the station where you’ll be safe.”

  “Alex can take me.” She took a step toward Alex, but the hard look on his face made her hesitate.

  “Quinn, take her to the station.” Alex turned and walked toward his car.

  She wasn’t going to call after him, not in front of his boss and the FBI agent. She’d wait until she got back to the resort, then she’d persistently knock until he opened the door between them and talked to her. That is, if he returned to the resort.

  “You’re not seriously going to let her go in this guy’s custody,” Trotter said as he nodded at Quinn. “I’ve done background. He’s a playboy businessman.”

  “Guess you missed the part where I did a tour in Iraq and a few years as a Black Ops agent,” Quinn said.

  “She can ride with Quinn if she prefers,” the chief said. “I’ll have an officer follow them.”

  Quinn offered his arm to Nicole and she took it, holding her breath, waiting for Agent Trotter to come after her. She made conversation to distract herself.

  “Black Ops?” she said to Quinn.

  “My wild youth. Have I got stories...”

  “I’ll bet.”

  As they passed Alex she tried to make eye contact to let him know she was here for him, whatever he needed, but Alex was focused on his cell phone.

  Quinn opened the passenger door of his shiny Lexus and placed his hand on her shoulder. When she looked up she was surprised by the odd expression on his face. The desperation in his eyes made him seem young and vulnerable.

  “He’ll be okay,” he said.

  She heard the second part of his thought even though he didn’t say it: he has to be.

  She slid into the front seat and he shut the door. At that moment she realized how much Quinn loved and worried about his brother. Although he’d said Alex would be okay, he wasn’t convinced.

  And neither was she.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon Alex paced the mill parking lot, waiting for the chief who’d sent him a text that he wanted to meet. He probably didn’t want to humiliate Alex by asking for his gun and badge at the station in front of Agent Trotter, Quinn and Nicole.

  No, Alex was overthinking this. He hadn’t been released from his duties. He was just placed on temporary leave. Alex would have done the same thing if he’d been chief and one of his guys put a witness in jeopardy.

  We work better as a team. Her words haunted him. She was right: they did make a good team. In the three days since they’d known each other he felt closer to Nicole than he did to anyone else. He’d become an expert at keeping people at a distance since Jessica’s death. Yet somehow Nicole had breached his defenses.

  Then Agent Trotter’s accusation taunted him: lady, you’ve got a bad case of transference.

  Is that what this was for Nicole? She clung to Alex like an anchor—was it because her life had been threatened over and over again? No, he knew in his heart it was more than that. He hoped it was more than that.

  He fingered the silver cross around his neck. God, please help me do the right thing here.

  Was he helping her by giving into his feelings? Or would it be more honorable to keep his distance until the case was resolved, and then ask her out on a date?

  “What are you talking about?” he muttered. A date, seriously? After everything they’d been through?

  Theirs was a dysfunctional relationship, one that had little chance of developing once the danger that brought them together was no longer in the picture.

  The chief pulled up the long driveway and for half a second Alex considered he’d made himself an easy target if the chief was, in fact, in collusion with the killer. Alex couldn’t ignore that possibility, especially after the chief’s strategic move to take Alex off the case.

  Chief Roth got out of his car. “How’s your head, son?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you? Because the Donovan I know wouldn’t have taken a witness with a bounty on her head to a dangerous meeting without backup.”

  “Here.” Alex pulled his gun off his belt and reached for his badge.

  “Hang on.” The chief stepped back and put out his hand. “You’re not quitting on me.”

  “I’m on leave. I figured you’d want these.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I put you on leave, both to get Trotter off my back, and so you could focus on other things that are important to you—like protecting Nicole Harris.”

  “But you need me to help solve the case.”

  “I need you to keep the witness safe, and it’s impossible to do that while chasing leads and conducting interviews.”

  Alex clipped his gun back to his belt. “Speaking of which...”

  “Nicole and your brother gave their statements. He’s a sharp kid. Got the make and model of the vehicle before it took off. No surprise it matches the truck that bumped you last night.”

  “And Nicole?”

  “Didn’t remember much. Apparently she had the wind knocked out of her when you tackled her?”

  “Gut instinct.”

  “And a good one. That’s why I need you to stick with her. I’ll forward information to you about the case and we can brainstorm, but you need to do that from the safety of wherever you’re staying. I dug up background on Artie Wagner. He had a sheet. I’ve emailed it to you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Okay, now I’ve got a question for you and I need a straight answer. Why didn’t you call me to back you up?”

  Alex sighed and glanced across the property, toward the harbor. “I thought I could handle it on my own.”

  “Tell me another story.”

  Alex eyed the chief.

  “Try the truth this time,” the chief said.

  Now that Alex stood face-to-face with Chief Roth, the one man who’d encouraged Alex, had faith in him when Alex first moved back to Waverly Harbor, Alex couldn’t say the words.

  He couldn’t call him a traitor to his face.

  “Ah,” Chief Roth said. “You thought I was playing for the other side.”

  Alex glanced at the ground, unable to confirm the accusation.

  “Because the driver came after you when you left my house,” the chief stated. “Okay, good.”

  “Good?” Alex eyed him.

  “Sure, that means your detective skills haven’t been completely derailed by your feelings for Nicole Harris.”

  “Wait, you’re not angry with me?”

  “For what? You considered the information in front of you and formed a logical conclusion. I would have formed
the same one, although I won’t tell Gayle about your suspicions. Wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s where I go when I’m working a case.”

  “That’s why you’re a great detective.”

  “I can’t figure out how the driver found us last night and how the killer found Artie today. Quinn didn’t follow me, he tracked my phone. That number isn’t public, so that’s not how the killer tracked me.” Alex whipped his head around and eyed his car.

  “Let’s search it,” the chief said, picking up on the direction of Alex’s thoughts.

  They started to search the interior of the car. “Wait, I always lock it. Let’s check the outside.” Alex dropped to the ground and felt beneath the undercarriage on the driver’s side.

  “I’m afraid if I get down there I’ll never get up,” Chief Roth said.

  “I got this.”

  Alex went to the other side of the car and dropped down. He ran his hands along the cool metal and felt a small transmitting device. He snapped it off. “Got it!”

  Chief Roth didn’t answer.

  “Chief?” Alex glanced beneath the car to his right.

  And saw the chief lying on the ground.

  ELEVEN

  Alex rushed around the front of the truck to the chief, who gripped his shoulder.

  “What happened?” the chief asked.

  The soft pfft of a silenced gunshot hit the ground beside Alex.

  “Come on.” Alex helped the chief to the other side of the truck.

  “Knew I shoulda worn my vest this morning,” the chief joked. “I think I need to retire. You want a promotion?”

  Alex examined the chief’s gunshot wound. “Let’s get you to a hospital.”

  The chief gripped Alex’s jacket sleeve. “Wait. The Feds will see this as one more example of our incompetence. Go get Nicole and take her someplace safe.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “That’s an order, detective.”

  “I’m on leave, remember?” Alex whipped open the car door and helped him onto the backseat. Staying low, Alex climbed across the passenger seat and got behind the wheel. He started the car and shifted to Reverse, hoping to get far enough away from the shooter so Alex could pop his head up to see where he was going.

  “Hold on!” Alex spun the wheel and they did a 180. He shoved the car in Drive and hit the gas, speeding out of the mill parking lot and up the hill toward town. The shooter wouldn’t follow him into a public place, at least Alex hoped he wouldn’t.

  “Take me to the medical center,” the chief said.

  “I need to get you to Skagit Valley Hospital.”

  “My injury isn’t life threatening. Drop me at the center and get back to the witness before the shooter finds her.”

  Alex rolled down his window, slapped the emergency light on the roof of his truck and headed for the medical center. He didn’t care if he drew attention. Alex had to get Chief Roth to a doctor before he lost too much blood.

  “Slow down, Alex. Don’t want you getting in a fender bender.”

  “We’re a minute away, tops.”

  “Get Nicole to a safe place and call me tomorrow. And Alex?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “This was not your fault.”

  * * *

  As Nicole sat in the backseat of Quinn’s fancy SUV with tinted windows she eyed Alex, who stared out his side window deep in thought.

  “I thought the chief was going to be okay,” she said.

  “He will be.”

  “The expression on your face tells a different story.”

  Alex glared at the back of his brother’s head. “I could have found your secret hideaway on my own.”

  “Uh, probably not,” Quinn said from the front seat. “Besides, since you’re both in the back, no one can see you.”

  “Are you headed to work after you drop us off?”

  “You’re that anxious to get rid of me? Afraid Nicole might realize I’m the better catch?”

  “No, little brother, I don’t want to see you shot and killed in front of me.”

  The car fell silent. Nicole pieced it together: Alex blamed himself for the chief being shot and would blame himself if anything happened to his brother. He probably still felt guilty about abandoning Quinn as a teenager, leaving him to be emotionally abused by their stepmother.

  “How much longer?” Alex said.

  “Not long.”

  “That’s specific.”

  “Alex,” she said, hoping to derail the argument she felt coming. “What’s happening with the case?”

  He looked at her with such defeat in his eyes. “Who’s got time to work the case? I’m just trying to keep everybody I care about alive.”

  He gazed back out the side window. She understood his frustration but refused to let him drown in self-recrimination. Carefully sliding her hand across the leather seat, she laid it gently over his. Although he wouldn’t look at her, he entwined his fingers with hers.

  “I’ve ordered dinner for us,” Quinn said.

  “Ordered from where?” Alex questioned.

  “Don’t worry. My neighbor doubles as my personal chef. She’s making us a four-course meal. Hope you like salmon.”

  “Quinn, I don’t want more innocent people to get hurt.”

  “Billy can handle herself, trust me.”

  “Billy is a woman’s name?” Nicole asked.

  “Nickname. Great cook. She lives in the coach house next door.”

  “What does she do when she’s not cooking for you?” Nic asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

  “She’s a freelancer. Does some event planning for groups that book space at my properties. She’s a multitalented woman.”

  “Oh, really?” Alex said.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not like that.”

  “How’d you meet her?” Alex asked.

  “On a search-and-rescue call.”

  “Search and rescue?” Alex questioned.

  “Yes, dear brother. My life isn’t limited to running a business and charming women.”

  Alex eyed Quinn like he didn’t recognize him. “When did you start doing search and rescue?”

  “Stop grilling me like a suspect.”

  Quinn pulled up to a tall, iron gate and entered a code on the keypad. The gates opened and Nicole rolled down her window to get a better look. Although it was dark outside she could make out the gorgeous grounds covered in colorful rhododendrons and juniper.

  They pulled up to a modest, two-story house with a dormered roof and wooden front porch. She expected it to be bigger, more ostentatious. She got out of the car and studied the home, so unlike its owner. Alex came around and offered his hand. She took it and he led her up the stairs onto the porch. Quinn pressed another code by the front door and they went inside.

  She paused in the entryway trying to cover her shock. For some reason she thought Quinn’s house would be elegant and refined. Instead, rustic wood furniture accented a large great room with hardwood floors, throw rugs and a beautiful rock fireplace.

  A tall, slender woman with dark hair and a wide smile stepped around the corner to greet them. “Hi, Quinn.”

  They shared a quick hug and he turned to Alex and Nicole.

  “Alex, Nicole, this is my friend Billy.”

  They shook hands.

  “Thanks for being available on such short notice,” Quinn said to Billy.

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a chance to meet the hero big brother.” She winked at Alex and motioned everyone into the great room. “Help yourselves to raspberry iced tea and fruit while I finish dinner.”

  “I’ll help,” Quinn said,
following Billy into the kitchen through a swinging door.

  Nicole sensed lightness about Quinn she hadn’t noticed before. She wondered if Billy held a special place in his heart.

  Alex wandered through the great room. As he picked up photographs and knickknacks, a look of fascination spread across his face.

  “You look like you’ve never been here before,” Nicole said.

  “I haven’t.” He glanced at her with a frown. “I had no idea.” He held up a cheesy gold trophy. “This was mine, from tenth grade track and field day. I figured Sophia had tossed it when she moved out.”

  “When did she move out?”

  Alex sighed and continued to analyze knickknacks. “About five years ago. Quinn and I didn’t know it at the time. After Jess died, and I came back to lick my wounds, I found out Sophia had emptied Dad’s bank account, filed for divorce and trashed the house, looking for valuables, I guess. He didn’t put up much resistance. He’d been living alone for six months when I showed up. Then we found out why she left.” Alex turned to Nicole. “Dad had cancer and she didn’t want to take care of him.”

  “He had cancer and didn’t tell you?”

  “Nope. I guess he didn’t want to worry me, us. Quinn didn’t know, either.”

  “But it’s a small town and people talk.”

  “Sophia was a master at keeping secrets. Dad didn’t want to admit he’d failed at being a good husband so he told people in town she was away visiting family. After a while I think folks suspected, but respected his privacy.”

  “He thought he’d failed at being a good husband? I doubt that very much.”

  “Why do you say that?” He suddenly looked at her. “You didn’t even know him.”

  “I know you. Only a very special man could have raised such wonderful sons.”

  “Wonderful?” Quinn said, entering the great room. “Did she just call me wonderful?”

  “Oh, boy, you shouldn’t have said that,” Billy offered, following close behind. “He’s already got an ego the size of an elephant.”

  “An elephant?” Quinn said. “Gee, thanks.”

  Billy wandered to the coffee table where a pitcher and four glasses were set up. “Hey, we all know your ego is your bulletproof vest. Who wants raspberry tea?”

 

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