Camouflage Cowboy

by Jan Hambright

  “I’m going to shine a penlight in your eyes. Stare straight at it.”

  “Okay.” She pulled in a breath and stared into the light.

  “Pupils equal and reactive.” Another EMT nearby scribbled the information down on a run sheet.

  “You’re sure you weren’t struck by any flying debris?”

  “Positive.” For added emphasis, she smiled. “Now I’d like to hold my son.”

  “Go ahead.” The medical technician stepped aside and she climbed into the back of the ambulance where Caleb sat on a gurney having the same series of tests.

  “He looks great, Miss Marshall. You really lucked out getting into that shelter when you did.”

  “Yes, we did.” She glanced up at Nick where he sat on a padded bench that ran along the opposite side of the compartment. They’d lucked out all right. If Nick hadn’t spotted the bomb, and closed them in the shelter when he did, the outcome would have been grim.

  Looking out through the back doors of the emergency vehicle she was struck by the chaos in the parking lot.

  Five additional ambulances had arrived at the scene and were in the process of treating those who’d been cut by flying glass when the windows in the preschool blew out.

  “Sign here, Miss Marshall, and you’re both free to go.”

  Grace took the clipboard and scribbled her name. Begrudgingly she unpeeled the blanket from around her shoulders and surrendered it.

  “You’re welcome to exit through the side door.” The EMT reached over, popped the latch and pushed the narrow door open.

  They climbed out onto the asphalt and Grace wobbled slightly trying to find her balance.

  Nick steadied her. “Stay here. I’ll go for the Tahoe,” he offered.

  “Okay. That’ll give me a minute to get my legs underneath me.”

  He brushed her arm with his hand and took off across the parking lot.

  Grace leaned against the side of the vehicle and sucked in deep gulps of air in an attempt to calm herself.

  Caleb pressed against her side and she gently cupped his head to her body and closed her eyes.

  It was a miracle no one had died.

  “You are not fine, Mother.” The sound of Bailey Lockhart’s voice brought Grace’s eyes open.

  “Will you please have a look at her. She’s bleeding from her arm.”

  “Calm down, Bailey, it’s only a scratch,” Lila said, but there was an edge of concern in her voice.

  “Governor Lockhart, let me take a look.”

  Grace recognized the voice of the EMT who’d checked her pupils with his penlight.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” Governor Lockhart insisted. “Well, maybe a little.”

  “Mom! That’s a lot of blood.”

  “Chambers, grab a pressure dressing ASAP! Governor, you need to sit down.”

  “It was such a tiny piece of glass,” she reasoned.

  Grace’s heart rate spiked up. Was Governor Lila Lockhart going to be okay?

  “It was big enough to cut into your brachial artery, Governor. We’re going to need to get you to the hospital stat. What’s your blood type?”

  “Oh, you’re not going to find much of it here, but I periodically donate it to myself so there’ll be a supply if I need it—”

  “She has a rare blood type. She’s AB negative,” Bailey half said, half yelled.

  “Oh, dear God,” Grace whispered, feeling her knees go limp as she slowly slid down the side of the ambulance and collapsed on the asphalt.

  Was it possible? Was Governor Lila Lockhart her birth mother?

  And before that thought even had time to register, another one entered her brain. Nick had been speaking to the governor, arguing with her before the event… Had Nick known the truth all along?

  But…she’d trusted him….

  Grace’s insides imploded, crushing her heart like an eggshell.

  “Chambers, make the call to medical control, have them type and cross-match five units of AB negative stat from anywhere they can locate it.”

  “Momma.” Caleb reached out and patted her on the head. “What’s wrong?”

  Grace stared up at her son through a screen of blistering tears.

  It explained the argument she’d seen Nick having with the governor less than an hour ago. It explained the odd look the governor had given her from the podium before her speech, and the way she’d looked at Caleb.

  Her grandson, Caleb, who needed her help.

  The family resemblances they shared.

  The fact that Bailey Lockhart was her half sister, and she hadn’t known.

  Her horror reached a crescendo, evaporated and turned to anger. She wiped her tears, scrambled to her feet, took Caleb’s hand and struck out across the parking lot to find a ride home.

  NICK MADE A SECOND LAP around the Cradles to Crayons parking lot and finally approached Stacy Giordano, who was having a cut on her arm looked at.

  “Hey, Stacy. You haven’t seen Grace and Caleb have you?”

  “They’re gone.”

  “Gone? To the hospital?”

  “No. I saw them get into Faith Scott’s car five minutes ago.”

  Worry arced over his nerves, and he stared at the spot where the ambulance had been minutes earlier. “Someone get transported?”

  “You didn’t know? Governor Lockhart got hit by a piece of glass in the upper arm. Apparently it hit an artery. Bailey said they need to get the bleeding stopped, and she needs blood or she could die. She has a rare type. I never knew that. Bailey just told me.”

  Nick swallowed as he put the gut-twisting scenario together in his head. “Did Grace approach from over there?” He indicated the spot where the emergency vehicle had been parked.

  “Yes. I saw her standing next to it when they took the governor over to be examined…and, Nick, she’d been crying.”

  “Thanks, Stacy. Glad you and Zachary are okay.”

  “Me, too. Take care of yourself.”

  He turned his back and headed for the Tahoe, then spotted Nolan waving frantically from a huddle of uniforms and the other members of the CSaI team.

  “What the…”

  “Nick!” Nolan hollered, coaxing him over with his hand.

  “Hey, buddy, you all right? You don’t look so good.” Concern affixed itself to Nolan’s face.

  “I’m fine,” he lied.

  “Nick, Bart’s missing, along with his black van. A couple of deputies just found Roger Adams’s body on the other side of the building with a couple of bullets in his head.”

  “Have you tried to raise Bart on his cell?”

  “Yeah. He’s not picking up, but Sheriff Hale is issuing an APB for his van right now.”

  Nick brushed his hand over his head and tried to pull himself together.

  Grace and Caleb were gone.

  Bart Bellows—his friend and mentor—was gone. His assistant had been murdered.

  Nick’s heart squeezed in his chest as he fell back on his military training.

  “What do you need, Nolan?”

  “I’m calling an emergency briefing in half an hour. We’ve got to figure out why Bart was the target, and who took him.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Nolan slapped him on the shoulder as he turned to leave.

  He’d be there all right, since his current assignment had just ended and taken his heart with her.

  “THESE ARE COPIES of Bart’s declassified CIA files, and his personal information. Take a look at them, see if anything pops.” Nolan passed out the folders marked Confidential across the front in bold red letters.

  “Did the APB produce any hits on Bart’s van?” Matteo asked from across the conference table.

  “Negative. Odds are whoever took him is holed up somewhere. He’s not stupid. He knows to lie low until the heat dies down,” Nolan offered.

  “But we’re not going to let that happen, are we?” Harlan added with determination.

  “For country, for brotherhood, for love,�
� Nick intoned.

  A round of agreement went around the table as each team member sounded off on the CSaI motto.

  “We’ll get him back,” Nolan promised, but every man in the room knew that possibility diminished with each passing hour.

  “Sheriff Hale has put an alert on all of Bart’s accounts if a transaction takes place. We can do our part by tearing into these files.”

  Nick opened the folder and splayed the paperwork in front of him, scanning for anything that might explain why Bart had been kidnapped, but the case information was antiquated.

  Next he scanned the stack of personal information that belonged to Bart, a task that bothered his sense of right, until he hit on information about Bart’s son.

  “I knew Bart had a son. Says here his name’s Victor. He was declared MIA in Iraq five years ago.”

  “That’s a long time to be gone,” Wade mused.

  “I agree. But what are the odds he’s still alive?” Nick wondered out loud.

  “Bart told me he did an extensive search for Victor immediately after he was reported missing.” Nolan shifted in his chair. “Even used his CIA contacts, but they didn’t turn up anything. There were rumors that he’d been taken by the insurgency and transported into Afghanistan. No doubt the enemy knew his daddy was worth big bucks, but Bart said he never received a ransom demand of any kind.”

  “The kid’s probably dead,” Harlan speculated. “Buried in some godforsaken hole in the sandbox.”

  “He was a handful,” Matteo said as he tapped the file in front of him. “Had more than his share of run-ins with the law from the time he hit puberty.”

  Nick shook his head in wonder. “Auto theft, shoplifting, armed battery. How does that happen? Bart certainly would have given the kid anything he wanted. Why’d he believe he needed to steal it? Makes no sense.”

  “Troubled. He was a troubled kid.” Wade shook his head. “Makes me want to go home and hug my girls.”

  “Odds are Victor Bellows is dead and there have been no reported sightings of him for five years.” Nolan rocked forward in his chair and studied the team. “What we need to do is try to make some sort of connection between Bart’s kidnapping and Governor Lockhart. Is there any way these two events are connected?”

  “Could be,” Harlan said. “If the anarchist group who bombed the first fundraiser also bombed the preschool today—”

  “What the hell for?” Nick asked. “So the governor can’t implement a program to help early readers?”

  “Nick’s right. The motivation just isn’t there. There wasn’t a single nut job from that group in the crowd. They weren’t even in town. I think the explosion was a simple diversion so he could kidnap Bart. We were so busy believing that the governor was the target, we failed to think outside the box,” Matteo said, before shaking his head in disgust.

  “As much as I hate to swallow that assessment, Matt,” Nolan said, “you could be right. Maybe Bart was the target all along. He’s been by the governor’s side from the beginning. He was at every event where an attack transpired.”

  A tense hush fell on the room and Nick knew each man was considering the implications of missing the identity of a true target. Being duped had a rancid flavor that lingered in the back of his throat.

  “Let’s adjourn for the evening, head home and get some sleep. I want everyone back here at 0800 hours. Maybe we’ll have some news by then. Dismissed. Oh, and you’ll have to leave the files here at headquarters. We can’t risk having any information leak out, not even via a casual glance by a loved one.”

  Each man put their copy of the confidential folder on the pile as they filed out of the conference room.

  Nick paused next to Nolan. “Where’s Parker tonight?”

  “Holy Cross with the governor and her family.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Great. They did minor surgery and closed up the tear in her brachial artery before the bleeding got out of control. They’re going to keep her until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Nick tossed his file on top of the heap, and turned to leave.

  “Oh, hell, I just about forgot. Parker phoned right before the briefing. The governor wants to speak with you tomorrow morning at 0900 hours in her room at Holy Cross. I’m going to assume it’s in regards to your assignment for her.”

  “Of that, I’m certain. Good night, sir.” He left the conference room and headed home, mentally preparing for what he would find when he arrived.

  He wasn’t disappointed.

  Standing with his shoulder pressed against the jamb of Grace and Caleb’s empty room, he stared at the made-up bed for longer than was healthy. They’d no doubt gone back to Grace’s condo. His only consolation was that Rodney Marshall had probably left town and was no longer a threat to them, but he’d continue to keep watch.

  He loved them…and he’d lost them.

  Could he ever get them back?

  GRACE TOPPED OFF Deputy Jeff Appleton’s coffee cup and cleared away the dessert plate he’d scraped clean of Faith’s cherry pie.

  “Thanks, Grace.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  At the other end of the counter, Faith Scott and Stacy Giordano chatted over an issue of a bridal magazine.

  The dinner crowd was thinning out, and Grace paused long enough to grab a glass of water.

  “Hey, Grace, come here.” Faith motioned her over. “We need your expert opinion.”

  “Which bridal bouquet do you like best?” Stacy asked, turning the glossy magazine toward her.

  “Hmm.” Grace studied the two bouquets of beautiful flowers and settled on the hot-pink gerbera daisies over the hand-tied red roses. “The roses would be beautiful for a Valentine’s Day wedding, but I like the daisies, because they’re so happy.”

  “Those are what I picked.” Faith looked at her and smiled. “I know it’s short notice, Grace, but I’d like to invite you to my wedding, that is, our wedding. Matt and me. It’s Sunday afternoon at 2:00 p.m., at the little white chapel on the edge of town. Do you know it?”

  “Yes.” Touched, Grace hugged Faith. “I’d love to come. Congratulations. Matt is a lucky man.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” Faith said, grinning. “So, Stacy, out with your news.”

  Grace felt the tingle of excitement in the air as they simultaneously drew closer together, perhaps so every patron in the café didn’t hear.

  “I’m pregnant. I found out this morning, and Harlan and I are celebrating with a date night tonight.”

  “Congratulations,” Grace whispered, glancing around to see if anyone else had overheard the exciting news, but the remaining customers in Talk of the Town were busy working on their dinner plates instead of their eavesdropping skills.

  “We’re planning a New Year’s Eve wedding, and praying that Bart will be home safe and sound by then.”

  Faith shook her head. “Just awful what happened yesterday at Cradles to Crayons. I’m so thankful I didn’t take baby Kaleigh with me, or go inside that classroom. Matteo said utter chaos broke out. We could have been crushed.”

  Grace couldn’t keep a shudder from rocking her body as she remembered the scene with vivid clarity, including someone’s foot in the middle of her back.

  Stacy noticed and patted her hand. “I’m so glad you all made it out alive.”

  “Me, too.” Choked up, Grace excused herself, and made busy filling napkin holders with her back to the restaurant while she worked to get her emotions under control.

  The tragedies of yesterday went far beyond near death and broken glass. They cut straight to her heart with scalpel-like precision.

  The bell over the café door jingled. Not unusual, but it was the determined stride of cowboy boots across the tile floor that she recognized. Her breath caught in her lungs. It was a sound she’d come to anticipate, only because it belonged to a man she’d trusted and cared for.

  Without turning to verify what she already knew, she looked at Faith inst
ead. “Mind if I take my break now?”

  “No, go ahead. It’s long overdue.”

  “Thanks.” She untied her apron strings on the way into the kitchen, and hung it on the coatrack next to the back door on her way outside into the alleyway behind the establishment.

  She couldn’t avoid Nick indefinitely, not unless she skipped town, but she wasn’t sure she was prepared to go toe-to-toe with him, either. Her emotions were still too raw.

  “Grace.”

  His voice on the air behind her was like a long-distance caress. She closed her eyes for an instant against its effect, then turned to face him.

  “You lied to me by omission, Nick. I trusted you, Caleb trusted you, to help us, and you knew the entire time she was my birth mother, and you—” Grace’s throat closed, but she fought the crushing restriction and refocused her rant.

  “Don’t worry. Your mission was a total success. I’ve got no intention of contacting her, blackmailing her or whatever the hell you believed I was capable of. A match for Caleb will come. I just have to believe it will happen or I’ll lose my—”

  “Good God, Grace.” In three strides he was there, pulling her against his chest.

  She settled for a moment, sucking in the strength and security that was Nick Cavanaugh, then she severed the connection and jerked away.

  “I never want to see you again.” She hurried in the back entrance of the café and closed the door behind her. Now she was the one who’d lied.

  Nick didn’t try to follow her.

  Everything she said was true. He’d known from the beginning of his assignment that it could end badly, and he’d been willing to accept the collateral damage then; but not anymore.

  He headed for the Tahoe, planning the biggest reconnaissance mission of his life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Grace rolled over and attempted to stuff her head under her pillow, but the rhythm of the jarring recoil on the bed next to her convinced her escape was impossible…or maybe it was Caleb’s giggle combined with an infernal beeping noise.

  Jolting awake, she sat up and watched him take another leap into the air as he bounced up and down on her bed, holding the pager the hospital had given them in his clinched hand.