“Lots,” Daci said, “though I assume they will be answered in the case file. But, right now, I’d like to know why the baby is in the system.”
Jax frowned and glanced toward his polished shoes. “Chase has fetal alcohol syndrome.”
Daci went rigid. An image of her youngest brother Niall’s FAS-distinctive features flashed across her mind’s eye so clearly that it was as if it were only yesterday she’d so briefly held him close before he disappeared from her life.
“Sir,” she said to Reynolds through gritted teeth, “from the detailed background check in my employment file you should know enough about my history to see this circumstance makes me the wrong person for this assignment.”
Scowling, her boss slapped a palm on the desk. “Suck it up, Marlowe. You’re a professional. Act like it.”
Daci’s hands balled into fists. “I’m not a professional actor, and I have no experience with undercover work. A job like bodyguard I could do in a detached manner regardless of the circumstances, but I have doubts about my ability to make this woman believe I want to be her friend.”
Reynolds sat back, eyeing her grimly. “Then let me tell you the aspect of this case that makes you perfect for the assignment. Ms. Farnam has gotten herself on the straight and narrow and will start work tomorrow on a probationary basis at a day care. She’s nervous and excited about her new career. You begin in the morning as her coworker—a very experienced and helpful coworker who can take her under your wing. Get the picture now?”
The bottom dropped out of Daci’s hopes and dreams. This was her adult job. Finally! And her first assignment in her law-enforcement career was taking care of kids—just as she’d been doing for so many years. Really, God?
* * *
Jax’s brows knit together. What had sucked the blood out of Daci’s face?
This woman had already proved to be an intriguing enigma. She was respectful toward her boss without the usual eager-to-please rookie mannerisms. Perhaps entering the Marshals Service a decade older than the usual fresh-faced greenie contributed to her maturity and stability. It certainly seemed to make her more sure of herself than any rookie he’d met before. In fact, when it came to male banter, she’d decisively redirected the conversation. He’d almost burst out laughing at the irony of a rookie taking charge, but decided a sober face was the better part of wisdom. Certainly, the better part of professionalism.
He needed to make professionalism his plumb line in working with this intelligent, attractive deputy marshal, especially since she was precisely the sort of woman he would consider asking out...if she had any other career than law enforcement. The very nature of the job included extra danger and could get cops and their families killed. Had gotten his family killed. Bile scorched the back of his throat. He couldn’t go there ever again.
“Get out of here, you two.” Rey made a shooing motion with both hands. “Study that file together, then make like law officers and catch me a bad guy.”
Daci rose slowly, blinking as if a bit dazed. “Is this really our best chance of nailing Liggett Naylor?”
“I hope not.” The DC frowned, reaching for a folder on his desk. “We’ve got multiple teams working around the clock to track him down. If I had my way, we’d have this lowlife in custody before you showed up for kiddie duty tomorrow.”
“We’ll hope for that, then, sir.” She turned on her heel and marched out.
Jax followed her into the bull pen of this branch office of the United States Marshals Service. Three other federal deputies and a clerical assistant/IT technician had computer desks placed at intervals throughout the space. Only the clerical desk was occupied, and the IT guy seemed mesmerized by his computer screen and didn’t bother to acknowledge their entrance.
At the federal district courthouse yesterday, Jax had noted that the routine Marshals Service duties of providing protection and guard detail were being covered by other agencies. With all the stops pulled out to track down Liggett Naylor, the other deputies would be out scrambling after leads.
Grabbing a stray guest chair, Jax followed his new partner to a spot in the corner of the room near the printer. Everyone in the bull pen would have to walk behind her chair, sometimes bumping her desk, to get to their printouts. Newbs always got the worst desk placement. By the pinched look on Daci’s face as she woke up her computer, this newb also thought she’d received the worst first assignment. Why? Given Rey’s selection of her, she must have a history with kids. Maybe the problem was with the mother. She’d seemed very upset at the mention of FAS. Maybe he should finesse matters in that area.
He hunkered down beside her. “You’ll no doubt discover a few things about Serena and Chase’s social-services status when you bring up the file. Serena was thrown out of her home as a young teen and, unsurprisingly, got caught up in the street culture of drugs, alcohol and prostitution. Naylor was three decades older, but he took a fancy to her. Staying with him gave her a place to live and his money facilitated her...um, habits. When she showed up at the hospital drunk and in labor, and then Chase was born with fetal alcohol syndrome, he was immediately removed from her custody. Fortunately, that was a real wake-up call for her to get help for her alcoholism. The county put her in a three-month in-patient program, followed by three months at a halfway house, and now she’s in intensive outpatient treatment.”
“And the baby?” She arched a fine, dark brow.
“Chase will remain in foster care until his mother is nine months sober, and because of his special needs, the foster parents found a day care that offers therapy for challenged newborns. By arranging for Serena to work there, her job will teach her the skills to care for him and also provide daily supervised interaction between mother and son. She seems passionate about gaining the opportunity to raise him.”
Sometime during his speech, Daci’s stare had gone flat. She had the richest brown eyes he’d ever seen, unusual and a bit exotic with the light hair, but something about this conversation unearthed an ancient pain that lurked in their depths. “Why are you putting him at risk by letting her have him again? I thought you were the child’s advocate, not the mother’s.”
“I am, which is why she didn’t get Chase back as soon as she graduated from the halfway house.” He offered a smile that wasn’t returned. The old Williams charm must be experiencing an off day—or else an extra-challenging subject. “Ultimately, it’s the judge’s decision, but I fought hard to keep Chase in a guaranteed stable environment until the mother has a chance to get her feet under her in the real world. Thankfully, the judge saw the wisdom in that idea. On the other hand, I believe in giving families a chance to heal and reunite. Continued sobriety is possible.”
Daci’s upper lip curled. “But not probable, especially when the scrutiny comes off and the stakes of losing the kid goes away.”
“You speak from experience, I take it?”
Rather than answering, she turned back toward her computer screen, revealing a fine-boned profile enhanced by a delicately upturned nose and a firm, rounded chin. If she’d tried to charm him with a smile, he had no doubt it would have worked. Just as well for him that she hadn’t tried.
“Can you see well enough to read along with me?”
The tone of her question left no doubt that she wouldn’t allow him to direct the conversation back to his question about her past experience. Let no one say he couldn’t take a hint, but the legal bloodhound in him was on the hunt. Would it be out of line for him to request her file from Rey? Probably. He’d have to satisfy his curiosity the lawman-turned-lawyer way—evidence collection and finessing information from witnesses.
Marlowe wasn’t a terribly unusual surname, but it did ring a bell from some type of years-ago media hoopla about tragedy and scandal in a filthy rich founding father–type family from Boston. Surely, this down-to-earth Marlowe wouldn’t turn out to be from that bunch, but he wouldn’t rest easy u
ntil he’d tracked down the reason for his hazy recollection. Online homework for tonight.
Two hours later, he and Daci had exhausted the information in the files on Serena Farnam and Liggett Naylor, uncovering and discussing some extremely disturbing facts about the latter. A career criminal from a single-parent household—father unknown—he’d been involved in everything from home burglaries and drug dealing to bank holdups and freight-cargo heists, most of these involving the murder of any possible witnesses.
By the time law enforcement brought him down, he was a kingpin in various criminal enterprises ranging from stolen-vehicle chop shops to hot-property fencing rings and racketeering. Anyone who got in his way was annihilated. Homicidal maniac would be a mild description of the charismatic and remorseless criminal with a trail of dead bodies and destroyed lives in his wake.
“How does society breed these animals?” Jax shook his head.
“You’re blaming society as a psycho-mill now?” She gazed at him coolly.
He almost responded with a quick defense of his comment, then noted the slight curve at the corners of her mouth. She was teasing him—and a goofy heart-thump startled him into openmouthed silence.
Her grin broadened. “With your years in the Marshals Service, I’d think you would have run into plenty of this type along the way. What soured you into litigator over lawman?”
“Soured?” The sudden taste on his tongue matched the word.
The churning in his gut was a toxic cocktail of grief, guilt and regret. A timely reminder of why he could not allow himself to respond to his attraction to this woman.
He sat back in his chair and looked away from those deep brown eyes. “It was either get out of law enforcement or have my own humanity eroded into oblivion. God opened the door for me to do something that daily allows me a different way to protect the most innocent from the most depraved.”
“God opened the door, or did you make a choice that required drastic action?” Again, that fine eyebrow went up, but then she waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. I guess I used to have more of that faith stuff than I do now. Bottom line, I admire you for admitting when you needed a change and then making it happen.”
Jax bit back further remarks on faith. Who was he to talk when he sometimes wrestled with his own?
He leaned closer to Daci. “My bottom line? If this guy does try to reenter Serena’s life, we need to nab him before he can inflict any damage—either by hurting Serena or grabbing his son. Serena and Chase are so close to becoming a healthy family.”
Her mouth tightened. “If that’s going to happen, she needs to do more than stay alive and off the sauce. She’s going to have to perform an extreme makeover on her taste in men. That’s rare. I rate their chances a long shot, but I’m all for offering them the full protection of the law.”
A low rumble originating from her belly punctuated her last sentence, and a blush crept up her neck.
“Hungry?” Jax grinned.
She managed an answering smile and rubbed her middle. “Time got away from us, and my tummy noticed.”
Jax rose. “I know a place a few blocks away that serves the best clam chowder in a fresh-baked bread bowl I’ve ever tasted.”
“Sam’s Clams?”
“You’ve eaten there?”
“The day I came in for orientation. My new coworkers recommended it. Apparently, the charm of the place is an open secret around here.”
“I remember that from my marshal days.” His grin faded.
Why was he inviting Daci Marlowe to have lunch with him? It would have been just as easy to wave and walk out to each seek their own meals.
“Okay, partner, you talked me into it.” Her lighthearted words jerked him back into the moment. “A working lunch it is.”
A tight coil unwound in Jax’s belly. A working lunch. That’s all this was. He could do that.
They left the office and walked out the building’s glass doors into the warmth of a New England spring day. The sky was blue and nearly cloudless, and a breeze carried the scents of flowering landscape bushes.
Crossing the small courtyard to the sidewalk, Jax stuffed his hands into his pockets and fell into step with his companion. “Have you always lived in Springfield?”
“Moved here from Boston when I got the posting. This is my first duty day.”
“That’s why you didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”
She sent him a sharp look as they entered the crosswalk of a busy street, along with a straggling line of pedestrians. “How do you know I didn’t?”
He smirked. “First day. First assignment. Oh, yeah, I remember what that was like. Hunger was gnawing a hole in my stomach by noon, but if I had eaten breakfast before I reported for duty, I would have puked on my boss’s shoes.”
A full-throated laugh burst from Daci, and Jax’s heart tripped over itself at the husky, happy sound.
The roar of an engine and screech of tires yanked his head around. A small SUV jetted around the corner through a red light and roared straight at them.
Two
Icy-hot sparks shot through Daci’s middle as she and Jax leaped forward. The SUV whipped past them so close the air current shoved her into a silver-haired woman ahead of her. With a shriek that blended with the startled cries of others in the crosswalk, the woman sprawled to the pavement. Heaving in long breaths, Daci squatted beside her. The silver-haired woman lay on her side, her complexion bleached, her eyes and mouth as round as eggs.
“Are you alright?”
The woman blinked up at Daci. “That car nearly ran you over. What is wrong with people today?”
Daci shook her head. “I can’t answer that, ma’am. Are you able to stand?”
“I—I don’t know.” She rubbed her elbow and attempted to sit up but subsided with a groan. “My arm hurts...and my hip.”
“Stay still.” Daci put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “We’ll get paramedics here.”
“I’ll call for an ambulance,” a deep voice said from behind her.
Daci looked up to find Jax gazing down at them. A strange buoyancy filled her chest at seeing him standing there, safe and sound, tapping on his phone to call for assistance. She glanced around to see if anyone else had been hurt. People milled in the street in various stages of wide-eyed shock. On the sidewalk, a few gawkers excitedly chattered on their cell phones. Traffic was at a standstill, though a few impatient souls were starting to honk.
Sirens began to wail in the distance as DC Reynolds and the desk clerk, Randy Lathrop, hurried out to them in the street. Daci remained beside the injured woman as her coworkers took charge and rerouted traffic until the local authorities could arrive and assume command.
Daci rose as her boss strode up to her.
“Glad to see you’re okay,” he said.
“Just a little shaken, sir.”
“See what you can do to get witnesses to stick around until they can be interviewed. Folks are trying to slip off and get on with their day.”
“Will do, but if nothing else, the traffic cam might give us a lead on the perp.”
Reynolds grimaced. “If it was working. Road construction in the vicinity has been interrupting coverage. I know because Randy has been running automated searches of footage for any of Naylor’s known vehicles suddenly appearing on the road.”
Soon, law enforcement and emergency personnel had cleared the scene, and Jax and Daci stood together near a squad car giving their statements to Detective Herriman, who was in charge of the investigation. By the familiarity of the greeting between the two men, Herriman apparently knew Jax either from his deputy marshal days or from his current gig as a lawyer.
“I doubt I can contribute much to the information pool.” Jax scrubbed his fingertips through the hair above one ear. “It was a bright red compact SUV. I have no clear recollection about
the license plate, except that it was Massachusetts. Make and model escaped me as I scrambled out of the way.”
“Understandable.” Herriman made notes on his electronic tablet. “At least your account tallies with the majority of witnesses. A few descriptions we got ranged from monster truck to souped-up sports car.”
Jax chuckled. “If only the general public had a clue about the unreliability of eye-witness accounts. But I guess I can’t claim superiority in that area.”
The detective grinned as he turned toward Daci. “Do you have anything to add, ma’am?”
“Daci Marlowe, new with the Marshals Service.” She stuck out her hand, and Herriman shook it. “I may have a little to contribute. The vehicle was a late-model Toyota RAV4. Definitely Massachusetts license plate. I only remember two digits and a letter. Not necessarily in this order—three, eight and E. The driver was a male Caucasian, mid-to-late thirties. I didn’t see anyone else in the vehicle, and in the blur of leaping out of the way, I didn’t catch any facial details.”
Jax and Herriman stared at her like she’d grown a second head.
She stifled a smile. “You might want to write that down.”
“Uh, yes, absolutely.” The detective pecked at his tablet.
A short time later, she and Jax were cleared to leave the scene, and they headed up the block toward the restaurant.
“Do you have any idea how unusual that was?” Jax leaned his head down and spoke close to her ear.
The sensation of his breath against her cheek was pleasant, but she made herself ignore it and put a few extra inches of distance between them.
“I agree,” she said, keeping her voice neutral and professional. “Absolutely nuts if he was attempting a hit-and-run in the middle of the day on a busy street. I suppose the perp might have been substance-impaired, but if not, he sure couldn’t claim distracted driving as cause for running a red light. He had to turn a corner. That smacks of deliberation. But why us? Or were we random targets?”
Duty to Defend Page 2
