by Terri Reed
“I’m good, Dad,” Nick assured him and hugged him again.
His mother’s gaze landed on him. The smile on her face faltered for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to impale Nick’s heart.
Disengaging from Dad, Nick said, “Hi, Mom.”
“Nick! We’d heard you were in town.” She reached for his shoulders and pulled him down to kiss his cheek, just as she had a million times since he was fourteen and had shot past her in height. The familiar gesture formed a lump in Nick’s throat.
Dad clapped him on the back. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d be home early to compete in the Festival of Snow?”
The subtle reminder of why he’d returned stabbed at Nick. “I meant to. Things have been hectic.” An understatement, but now wasn’t the time to go into the fact that there was some crazy person out there trying to kill him.
“Are you staying in that ridiculous motor home again?” Mom asked.
Obviously they hadn’t heard the news yet. “No. My motor home is out of commission right now. I stayed at Julie’s stepfather’s home last night.”
Dad’s black eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline.
Mom’s gaze bounced from Nick to Julie. “I see.”
Her tone suggested she thought there was more going on than there was, prompting Nick to say, “It’s not like that, Mom. I needed a place for the night and Julie offered her stepdad’s house.”
“You could have come home,” Dad said.
The hurt in his father’s voice nearly brought Nick to his knees. “It was late. I didn’t want to disturb you,” he countered, feeling guilty at the lame excuse. He hadn’t been sure they’d want him there.
“It’s nice of Marshal to let you stay at his house, but you can come home now, right?” Mom asked.
Julie touched Nick’s elbow and gave him a gentle squeeze. He didn’t need to read her mind to know Julie thought he should stay at Marshal’s. The gated community provided a measure of safety that his parents’ suburban house wouldn’t offer. But how could he say no when his mom was asking him to come home? “Things are complicated right now. I wouldn’t want to put you in danger.”
“What do you mean?” Dad asked, concern lacing his words.
Nick quickly explained the attempts on his life.
His mother clutched his hand. “Oh, no. Why would someone want to hurt you?”
The genuine distress in her tone washed over Nick, making him feel cared for, loved. Something he hadn’t felt from his mother in a year.
“I don’t know, Mom. The police are investigating.”
“You can at least come home for lunch, right?” Mom asked. “You, too, Julie.”
Nick hesitated. The imploring look in his mother’s eyes twisted in his chest like a knife. He glanced at Julie. Doubts swirled in her eyes.
“I don’t know, Mom. That might not be the best idea.”
Dad put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Son, come home. Let me worry about our safety.”
“But, Dad, if either of you was hurt because of me—”
Dad held up a hand. “Stop. We’ll be fine. I have my old hunting rifle and we can let the neighbors know to keep an eye out. No one can get in or out of the neighborhood without being seen by someone.”
Nick could argue that wasn’t true, but then he’d have to admit to sneaking out of the house when he was a teen. Then an image of his father in his striped pajamas patrolling the house with his hunting rifle flashed in his head. All Nick could do was blow out a breath of frustration. “Come on, Dad, you’re not really prepared to shoot someone with your shotgun, are you?”
“I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”
Nick rubbed his neck. Regardless of the danger, Nick wanted to go home, to spend some time with his parents. He had a bodyguard. And he refused to live his life like a prisoner, as if he were the one who had done something wrong.
With determination in his voice, he said, “I’d love to come home for lunch.”
Worry darkened Julie’s expression. “Are you sure you should?”
“I can’t live my life hiding like some fugitive.” He took her hand. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Ted and I can go with Mom and Dad.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Besides, I think it would be better for your parents to leave here alone and then when the church clears, we can leave.”
“That will give us time to go to the grocery store,” Mom said.
Dad’s confused gaze bounced between them. “Who’s Ted?”
“My bodyguard.”
“The man guarding the bottom of the stairs?” Dad asked. “I thought there was something suspicious about him.”
Nick chuckled. “He can be intimidating, but he’s a good guy.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “Of course, bring him along.”
Dad frowned. “What are the police doing? Why haven’t they caught this guy?”
“They’re doing their best, Dad,” Nick assured him. “You should get going.”
“We’ll see you two at the house,” Dad said and took Mom by the elbow. They descended the stairs.
Julie gave him a satisfied smile. “They were happy to see you.”
Tweaking her braid, he said, “Thank you for pushing me to talk to them.”
Her direct gaze pierced him with an intensity that made him breathless. “That’s what friends are for, right? We help each other out.”
“Friends.” He rolled the word around his mind. Being friends was safe. Uncomplicated. His earlier conclusion that she fell in the frenemy category teetered. “Is that what we are?”
“I think so.” Her eyebrows rose. “Don’t you?”
In a perfect, less complicated world, he’d want to be more than friends. But there were so many reasons to keep a distance from this woman that he’d get a cramp in his hand if he tried to write them out. Despite being a reporter, she had made it clear that men like him weren’t on her wish list. “Yes, we’re friends.”
A slight smile touched her lips. “Good.”
For some reason he had the distinct impression that she had another reason for making a point of clarifying their relationship.
The church emptied quickly and the parking lot had cleared out by the time Nick, Julie and Ted reached her car at the far end of the lot. Nick reached for the passenger door, but Ted put a halting hand on his arm. “Let me check it for explosives.”
Stepping back, Nick swallowed the lump of trepidation clogging his throat.
“Oh, man!” Julie exclaimed from the driver’s side.
Heart jumping, his gaze shot over the top of the vehicle at her. “What’s wrong?”
Ted rounded the car in a flash. “Flat tire.”
Nick came around the front end of the car. Sure enough, the front left tire was deflated. He squatted down to inspect the rubber, thinking she’d run over a nail, but the wide slash on the back of the tire told a different story. “Someone slashed the tire with a knife.”
Julie gasped. “I’ll call the police.” She fumbled to get her phone from her purse.
Ted moved to stand so that Nick was at his back. The bodyguard had withdrawn his weapon and braced his feet apart as if his body could provide a shield to Nick and Julie. Caution tightened Nick’s shoulders. He rose and glanced around, looking for a threat. They were the only ones left. He glimpsed the back end of a car parked behind the church. Pastor Harmon must still be inside.
“I don’t like how exposed and vulnerable we are standing out in the parking lot,” Ted said.
Nick grimaced as the thought slammed into him. They were visible, and other than Ted’s gun, they were defenseless. This wasn’t such a good idea after all. They should have left when there were other people around. They were going to have to cross fifty feet of open space to reach the church.
Tucking Julie into his side, Nick said, “Let’s get inside.”
They moved in tandem away from the car, Ted keeping them ahead of him. Something hit the pave
ment in front of Nick, kicking up bits of blacktop.
Julie yelped. “What was that?”
“We’re being shot at!”
NINE
“Run!” Ted grabbed Nick’s shoulder and propelled him forward.
Nick didn’t have to hear the command twice. He tightened his hold on Julie and they ran toward the church’s front door. More bullets hit the ground. Too close.
When they reached the church door, a bullet slammed into the wood right above Nick’s head. But he hadn’t heard the loud retort of a gun firing. The sniper was using some sort of suppressor. Ducking, he yanked on the door.
Locked!
“Around back,” Ted yelled, searching for the threat.
Grabbing Julie by the hand, Nick pulled her to the other side of the building, out of the line of fire. They hurried to the side door. It was locked, as well.
The sound of an engine turning over drilled panic through Nick.
Julie raced ahead of Nick toward the back of the church in time to see Pastor Harmon driving away.
“Pastor Harmon!” Julie yelled.
The pastor’s car continued moving, turning out of the parking lot and driving away.
Nick drew Julie against the wall of the church. “Call the police.”
She dialed and frowned. “It’s not going through.”
“What?” Nick took the phone and punched in 9-1-1. Nothing. “When did you last charge this?”
“Last night.” She pointed to the little icon in the top right corner. “See, one hundred percent.”
Ted’s grim expression sent Nick’s pulse into hyperdrive. “The shooter probably has a cell jammer.”
“We’ve got to get inside and use the church’s phone.” Nick moved to the back door. Ted stood next to Nick with his weapon at the ready.
“It’s probably locked, too,” Julie said.
Nick inspected the lock. It was similar to the one on the exterior door of his parents’ garage. “Do you have two bobby pins?”
“Oh, please.” Julie’s dubious tone would have made him smile if the situation had been different. “You’re going to tell me you know how to pick a lock with a bobby pin?”
Even Ted glanced at him with skepticism.
“Not with one, but two, yes.” He kept his gaze alert for any sort of threat. The parking lot remained empty. He could only hope their shooter’s position remained facing the entrance.
Julie reached for the back of her head and plucked two bobby pins that had kept a short chunk of hair in place at the beginning of her braid. The shiny strands fell to curve around her cheek. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He bent one of the pins into an L shape, making an Allen wrench, and then inserted it in the base of the lock hole with the longest part in the lock and the small section hanging out. Then he placed one end of the second bobby pin in the top portion of the lock. He jiggled and jiggled while turning the bottom pin with slight pressure until he heard the clicks as the mechanism unlocked.
“Believe it,” he said, handing back the pins. He opened the door and ushered her in. They were in Pastor Harmon’s office. Julie rushed to the phone on the desk to call the police. Ted shut the door and moved to Nick’s side.
“The operator said she’d send help right away.” Julie set the receiver down.
The knob of the back door they’d just come through twisted. Gratefully, Nick noted it was a self-locking door.
Julie jumped. Nick clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shh.”
Ted pointed toward the exit. “Go. Now.”
Taking Julie by the hand, Nick tugged her out of the office. “We’re going up to the balcony until the police arrive.”
Sunlight came through the stained-glass windows, creating a kaleidoscope of color raining down the center aisle of the sanctuary. Julie, Nick and Ted—bringing up the rear—hurried to the narthex and up the stairs to the balcony.
The sound of wood splintering sent Nick’s pulse pounding.
“Find a place to hide,” Ted instructed. He crouched down by the railing, then peered over the top. A bullet nearly took him out. Ted fired off a round, the sound bouncing off the walls, before ducking down.
A heightened sense of dread gripped Nick. His throat constricted the way it had the first time he’d tried a double back aerial. He waited with his breath trapped in his chest, knowing any second this whole situation could go south and Julie could end up dead along with him. He moved to the balls of his feet, prepared to launch himself at whoever came at him. He had to protect Julie. She was not going to pay the price for whatever was happening.
The high-pitched wail of a siren filled the church.
A man cursed. Close. On the stairs.
Ted swiveled, his weapon pointed at the mouth of the stairs.
Nick’s heart nearly burst from his chest. Then the man retreated, his rapid footfalls booming through Nick like gunfire. It was all Nick could do not to collapse. He grabbed the pew in front of him for support.
The front entrance door crashed open.
“Nick! Nick Walsh!”
Recognizing Detective Agee’s gruff voice, Nick scrambled to the railing and peered over. Detective Agee and three officers advanced into the nave, their weapons drawn.
“Here,” Nick called out, realizing that if the police were coming through the front the assailant had to have gone out through Pastor Harmon’s office. “The shooter went out the back.”
Two of the officers hurried forward.
Nick only regretted he hadn’t caught a glimpse of the assailant. He went to Julie and helped her up. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Other than my heart being ready to burst out of my chest, yeah, I’m okay.”
They met Detective Agee at the bottom of the staircase. Nick let Ted explain the situation to the detective.
“Guy’s graduated to firearms,” Agee stated grimly. “Did any of you see him?” They all gave a negative response.
The officers returned. “He got away,” the youngest of the two officers said. “He’s driving a dark blue pickup truck.”
“You get the plates?” Agee asked.
“Too obscured with dirt,” the other officer reported.
“Get the crime scene techs here,” Agee instructed the officers. “Guy had to have left something behind. A shell casing and bullet, at least.”
“Yes, sir.” Two officers left through the busted front door.
“Where are you staying, Mr. Walsh?” Agee asked.
“He’s staying at my stepfather’s house with me,” Julie answered before Nick had a chance.
“Could you have an officer take us back to the house?” Ted asked. “I’d rather not wait around for the tire to be changed on Ms. Tipton’s car.”
“Of course.” Agee gestured to the remaining uniformed officer. “Officer Comer will drive you. If you think of anything that will help or if anything else happens, call.”
Ted ushered Nick and Julie out of the church and to the white City of Bend police cruiser parked at an angle near the entrance. Ted sat up front, while Julie and Nick slid into the back.
Nick had made a promise to his mother he intended to keep. “I need to go by my parents’ house first,” he told the officer as they headed out of the parking lot.
Ted twisted around to look over his shoulder at Nick. “Mr. Walsh—”
Nick held up a hand cutting of the protest. “We’re going to my parents’.”
He gave Officer Comer the address.
When they arrived, his parents rushed out of the house. Officer Comer opened the back door for Julie while Ted held the door for Nick. As Nick passed Ted, his bodyguard said, “This isn’t a good idea.”
The shooter had run when the cops arrived. Nick doubted there’d be another attempt anytime soon, not with the police present. “We won’t stay long.”
“What’s happened?” Mom asked as he stepped up on the porch. “Are you okay? Why are in you in a police car? We were worried.”
H
earing the concern and care in her voice was like a balm to his soul. “I’m fine, Mom. We’re fine. We had a bit of trouble.” He explained about the shooter.
Dad’s jaw set in anger. “What are the police doing to find this jerk?”
“Everything they can, Dad.”
“You should go inside,” Ted instructed with a pointed look at Nick.
Getting the message, Nick took Julie’s hand and followed his parents inside. Ted hustled in behind them, leaving the police officer to stand guard on the porch.
The house looked the same, comfortable and lived-in.
“I made your favorite,” Mom said. “Orzo Greek salad and crusty bread.”
Touched by her effort, Nick didn’t have the heart to point out that orzo Greek salad had been Cody’s favorite dish. He leaned close to kiss his mother’s cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”
Mom smiled softly. Her eyes glinted suspiciously with tears. “You’re welcome, son. It’s good to see you.”
He wrapped her in a bear hug. “You, too.”
For a long moment he held on. When he let go and stepped back, his mother turned away and wiped at her eyes. Nick was happy to be home, to be welcomed by his mother and father. But the weight of guilt pressing on his chest wouldn’t relent. The unspoken words of forgiveness that he longed to hear never came. The subject of his brother hung in the air like a cold frost, making Nick aware of the missing piece of his family.
After washing up, they sat around the table. Ted’s presence provided a silent reminder that this wasn’t a normal family gathering. Would life ever be normal again?
Dad said grace, then Julie kept the conversation going, asking his parents questions, talking about mutual friends and local news. Nick was grateful for her presence as a buffer, as a distraction from the grief that floated near the surface.
Needing a moment alone, Nick excused himself and headed down the hall. He paused outside the closed door to his brother’s room. Cody’s name stenciled on a wooden plaque hung from a hook on the door. Cody had made it at summer camp. He’d been so proud.
Nick’s heart ached with loss and sorrow. Compelled by the force of his grief, he opened the door to Cody’s room. Needing to remember the boy who’d been the world to their mom, Nick stepped inside. The curtains were drawn, shrouding the room in shadows. Nick flipped on the light, chasing back the gloom. He wished he could do away with the pain squeezing his heart as easily.
