Maybe Chandler was right and He could use her life.
He didn’t feel safe or tame.
She’d liked the idea of a tame lion she could control and mold in a way that didn’t shatter her world. She wanted the powerful parts He offered without the sacrifice, yet it was both. She needed Him to touch and heal her. She couldn’t do that, and this lawsuit attempt had reinforced how very much her efforts were doomed to fail.
Maybe He could be trusted. Maybe He was good, as the beaver in the book said. Maybe she didn’t need Him to be safe as much as she needed Him to be good to her.
The thought chased her the way Simba chased a ball across a floor. Everywhere she went it dogged her. Hounding her as she made supper, following her as she jogged on the treadmill in the exercise room, following her as she watched a show with Simba curled against her side. No matter what she did, she felt the presence. What if He would be good to her?
It was almost worth any risk to find out.
So many had disappointed her, and yet she knew more was possible. She knew it to the core of her being.
It felt odd but so right to reach out to Him with the echo of her darkest moments fading like a mist in the morning light.
“What do I do?”
Caroline’s smile rivaled the first light of dawn. “Ask Him to break through your walls. I’ll lead.”
And as Jaime repeated the simple prayer, she didn’t feel a quake that shifted her foundations the way the Stone Table cracked with Aslan atop it. Instead, she felt the softest vibration, an echo that felt like love and peace combined, a sensation she wanted to clutch and memorize.
Caroline hugged her and then bounded off the bed, wiping her eyes. “I need to get ready for work.” She started toward the door, then turned back. “Thank you for letting me be part of this.”
Before Jaime could reply, her friend slipped into the living room, easing the door behind her. Jaime stayed propped in bed, tipping her face toward the ceiling. It felt like drops of grace washed over her in a gentle sprinkle. It was the gentlest scrubbing she’d ever experienced. A cleaning at the deepest levels.
The feeling stayed with her as she dressed in a suit that made her feel invincible and prepared to return to work. The only problem? Crickets were louder than what she’d heard from the public defender’s office since Savannah had forwarded the letter from the ethics panel. Had that only been yesterday?
If she got back to work quickly, she could attempt to salvage the Parron trial. That would take a miracle, but maybe she needed to believe in one.
She’d march into the office as if her leave had expired and see what happened.
There was a knock at the door, and she frowned at Simba. “Were you expecting anyone, boy?”
She edged to the door and opened it. Chandler straightened and a grin spread across his face. “Hey, you.”
“Good morning.” She leaned against the door and tried to resist the magnetic pull to him. She didn’t want to resist. She wanted to believe he was the perfect man for her, and it went far deeper than his Captain America persona. It would be hard to explain to someone how much his character tugged her to him as surely as Cupid’s arrow.
“Ready for an escort to wherever you’re going?”
She tipped her head and studied him. “Don’t you have to get to work?”
“Not today. Took a vacation day to spend time with my girl.”
The words settled over her. “I’d love that, but I need to see if I still have a job.”
“Then your chariot awaits.”
She bit her lip and then nodded. “Thank you.”
He leaned toward her, his lips inching nearer. “You’re welcome.”
She held her breath, hoping, wishing, expecting . . . and then sighed as he edged back.
“Get your things, and we’ll grab coffee on the way.”
“All right.” When they were settled in his truck, she glanced out the window. “This morning was a big one.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“Caroline prayed with me.”
He slowed at a stoplight, then reached over to squeeze her hand. “That is fantastic news.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I think so too.” She tried to ignore the warmth that spread up her arm. “I’ve never felt this . . . loved.”
“It’s a great feeling. Take a mental snapshot, because it won’t always feel this perfect.” His eyes met hers with quiet joy. “But you won’t regret it.”
She’d watched Hayden, Emilie, and Caroline for years. She’d observed them experience hard things and still hold to their faith. She might not ever understand why God had allowed certain horrors in her life, but she had a feeling He could handle her questions, and she’d decided to trust Him regardless.
“So, the public defender’s office?” He pulled out of the coffee shop drive-thru.
“Yes.” She needed to see what would happen. It was a gamble to arrive unannounced, but it was too easy to tell someone they weren’t wanted or needed over the phone.
Fifteen minutes later Chandler slowed and pulled to the curb in front of the PD’s office. It was one suite of offices in a skyscraper of a building a five-minute walk from the courthouse. He glanced at her, then at the building. “Want me to wait here?”
“It would probably be a good idea.” She sighed. “I don’t know if they’ll welcome me back.”
“I bet they will.”
She knew better than to hope but had to take this step. Would Grant give in to whoever had told him to fire her? She wanted to know just who that man was.
Could she clutch the morning’s earlier feeling of peace tight and hold on a little longer? As she looked out the truck’s window and took in the stone behemoth in front of her, she didn’t know. But she couldn’t sit here and let some faceless man rob her voice. She would fight for her job the way she fought for her clients.
Chandler parked the vehicle and stepped from it. A moment later he was holding the door for her. “Whatever happens in there, you have a future, Jaime.”
She wanted to believe that.
He offered her a hand and helped her from the truck. “I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”
Somehow she knew he would, even if she was there for hours. “I’ll call as soon as I know how long I’ll be.”
Then she squared her shoulders and walked toward the double door that led to the lobby and the elevators that would whisk her to the PD’s suite.
Time to get inside and see what her future held.
CHAPTER 40
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17
Chandler returned to his seat behind the wheel and watched Jaime head into the building.
She was undoubtedly the bravest woman he knew, and the fact that she had prayed at all made him grateful. It was a conversation they needed to finish, but he felt a release to pursue her that he hadn’t had before.
What would it be like to explore a future with the engaging and enigmatic Jaime Nichols? There would be challenges . . . there had to be, given her pain-filled past . . . but he had no doubt she was worth it.
His phone rang and he dug through the trash on the dash until he located it. “Bolton.”
“Chandler, this is Allison. We need you here at the office immediately. There’s an emergency.”
“What kind?”
She sighed, but he heard a thread of fear. “A bird flew into the office, and he wants to hurt us.”
He stiffened. That was the code phrase for we need help immediately, developed after such a situation had literally occurred. It had taken a butterfly net and some creativity to safely escort that bird back outside. Fortunately, they had a plan in place for two-legged “birds” as well.
“I’ll be there as soon as I grab my net.”
The moment the call disconnected, Chandler dialed the military police at the Pentagon and then 911. They would cycle up to help, but he needed to get there too. He quickly shot a text to Jaime. Called to work. Text when you need me. I’ll be in C
larendon.
He hit Send and then pulled his truck from the curb and drove the mile to the office. Should he make his presence known or await reinforcements? They couldn’t be far behind.
The curtains were drawn over the front windows. That was a terrible sign, and battle alertness coursed into his system. The curtains were always open when someone was in the building to allow line of sight even if the glass was bullet-proof.
He parked a block away and was hurrying toward the building when a police vehicle screeched to a halt on the other side of the street. The officer exited and waved him back. “Sir, you can’t be here. We have an emergency situation.”
“I’m the one who called 911.”
“All right.” The officer spoke into his radio. “What can you tell me?”
“Only that one of my staff called utilizing our emergency protocol. Also the curtains shouldn’t be drawn. They’re always left open.”
Another police vehicle arrived, followed by one with the Pentagon’s police logo on the door. A woman hopped out of the passenger door and hurried toward them. “What’s the status?”
Chandler slipped into military mode. “Unknown. I got a call from a colleague inside. She used the emergency phrase to launch our emergency procedures. I was in the courthouse area, so I called you and 911 and then proceeded here. I arrived approximately five minutes ago. Long enough to park and meet this officer.”
The woman turned to the uniformed police officer. “I’m Agent Michelle Weldon with the Pentagon Police.”
“Chuck Nollan, Arlington Police.”
“How do you want to handle this?”
“You can take point since it’s your building.”
She nodded and turned back to Chandler. “What’s the layout?”
“Open floor plan in the entryway. Leads first to a cubicle space, then there’s a hallway with a series of small offices and conference rooms. More on the second floor.”
“Okay. Any security feeds?”
“Yes, should feed to your office.”
She turned to the man who had come with her. “Check on that. We need to see what’s happening inside.”
Time ticked by with more police arriving but no answers. Chandler paced as the pressure built. Something was happening, but he didn’t know if it was a hostage situation or something different. “Can I call Allison? See what’s happening?”
Agent Weldon considered and then nodded. “Let’s try.”
He quickly pulled up the number and then waited while it dialed.
Finally she answered. “Hello?”
“Allison, you okay?”
“He wants you to come inside.” Her voice shook.
“All right. Who is it?”
“He says you’ll know.”
He froze as he considered. “Must be my mystery caller.”
“Maybe.”
“All right. I’ll come in the back door.”
“That’s a good idea. The front is bad.” There was the sound like a slap, and she groaned.
“Hold on, I’m coming.” He hung up and turned to the others. “Anyone have a bulletproof vest?”
“You’re not going inside.” Agent Weldon jutted her jaw, but it did little to change Chandler’s mind.
“My team is there, getting slapped around for telling me not to use the front door. My guess is there’s an explosive or something on it, so proceed with caution. I’ll use the back.” He took off his coat and slipped on the vest Officer Nollan handed him. Then he slid a comms unit into his ear, and chatter filled his head. “I’ll let you know what’s happening in there.”
Before the feisty detective could say anything else, he took off for the back door. This team wouldn’t be lost if he could help it.
When the elevators opened for the PD’s floor, Jaime tried to march in like she belonged, but her key card didn’t unlock the door. The floor dropped from her stomach. Had Grant revoked her access?
Maybe it was going to take more than a letter from the ethics commission to clear her indefinite leave.
She was standing at the door digging her cell phone from her purse when Evan Reagan walked up.
“Good morning, Evan.”
“Hmm. Can’t get in?”
“I must have done something to my keycard. I’ll just follow you in and get it cleared up.”
He looked at her, something like pity filling his eyes. “You don’t understand what’s happening.”
“Then fill me in. Please.”
“You’re done. Someone’s pressuring Grant and he can’t budge. Keeps saying it’s out of his hands.”
“Who’s doing this?” She didn’t mention the conversation she’d overheard.
He grunted and slapped his card against the reader. “No one can figure it out. But we all know you should be back here.”
“Thanks.” She preceded him into the reception area and then walked to her small-as-a-closet office. It no longer felt like coming home.
Evan stopped when he reached her door. “Grant’ll be a little late this morning. A breakfast meeting of some sort.”
“I’m sure I’ve got plenty to do while I wait.” Email had piled up while she was gone, and it took more than an hour to read and deal with each. She was turning to the stack of files on the corner of her desk when her phone intercom beeped to life.
“Miss Nichols, Grant wants to see you.”
“When?”
“Right now.”
Miss Nichols? Since when did Grant’s paralegal call her that? She didn’t like the signal that sent. “I’ll be right there.”
Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the screen. Savannah? Really? She took the call.
Savannah didn’t even wait for her to say anything. “The police need to interview Tiffany and prepare her for the grand jury testimony.”
“She’ll need Aslan for that.”
“Exactly. I need you to spend more time with her so you can explain to the judge why Aslan is needed as a comfort dog. I’d also like you to sit in on the interview.”
“I don’t know that I can do all of that.”
“Why not?”
“I’m at the PD’s office and need to go meet with Grant.”
“All right. Do that, but make Tiffany your next priority.”
“I’ll get something arranged.”
“Good. Then come here around two, and we’ll prepare for your testimony.”
“Mine?”
“The congressional hearing.”
Oh. That. “It’s not until next Tuesday.”
“True, but soon your presence will be required at work. We need to be ready when the PD office calls. Consider this getting ahead.”
As she hung up, her office intercom buzzed again. “He’s getting impatient.”
“Coming.” If only Jaime could shake the feeling she was walking toward the death of her career.
CHAPTER 41
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 17
There was a sense of waiting as Chandler approached the back door. Jaime slipped into his thoughts. Had she seen his text?
He pushed the thought firmly away. All he could do in this moment was focus on the problem in front of him. That meant making sure his team was okay.
He keyed the mic that was embedded in the vest. “It seems quiet.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Agent Worrypants didn’t know that for two tours he’d seen his share of death.
“Got it.” He examined the doorframe. Nothing obvious, and Allison hadn’t warned him away from that one. If whoever was inside wanted to talk to him, it made sense they’d leave a way for him to get there while protecting the integrity of the front by pulling blinds and possibly adding an explosive device. The police needed eyes in that area. Heat-seeking goggles wouldn’t be enough to determine who was where.
He eased the door open and slipped into the back hallway. The light on the security camera blinked, a subtle nod they had eyes on him. Good. Now he could hope that meant they
had eyes on his team and the rogue.
“I’m coming in.” He held up his hands and inched down the hallway. He passed the last set of offices. The lights were turned off and the offices empty. It was quiet. Eerily so. What had happened while he waited for backup to arrive? His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. Anything vital would go through the comms unit.
He eased down the hallway until he could see the entry to the reception area/work space. Beth and Allison huddled in chairs while Jake stared defiantly at a masked man pointing a gun at him.
“You’re finally here, Mr. Bolton. Good.” The man didn’t even flinch as he pulled the trigger and Jake fell over, blood seeping from the hole in his chest.
The women screamed and his comms unit started firing with questions and demands. Chandler held his hands in front of him as he tried to evaluate the rapidly deteriorating situation. Had anything vital been hit? How much time did he have to get the situation resolved with any hope of Jake surviving?
“Let me get some help for Jake.”
“Is that his name?”
“Yes, he has a wife and three kids.”
“Then you’d better resolve this quickly.” The man turned dead eyes toward him.
Resolve what? Chandler blinked as he studied the man. There was nothing familiar about him, his features hidden by the mask. Nothing gave him a clue about why here, now, and them. He felt the press of time ticking by, and his fingers twitched to hold his gun and end this, but he couldn’t. “You served.”
“Active duty for six years and three tours. How does my country thank me? Sends me on mission with an IED. Sends me to Germany to rot at Landstuhl.”
“What does this have to do with me and my team?”
“Your team is collateral damage.” His lifeless eyes flicked to where Jake lay bleeding. “I’d say that man has less than thirty minutes before he’s critical.”
Chandler couldn’t argue with that assessment. “You saw enough of these injuries on your tours.”
“And worse.” He tapped his leg and the pant leg moved. Did the man wear a prosthesis? “It was supposed to be a routine supply run. You were assigned to come with us. You didn’t.”
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