Asher’s phone rang and he snagged it. “It’s Caden.”
“Put it on speaker,” Gavin said.
“Caden, this is Asher. Gavin and Brooke are here too. What’s up?”
“When Sarah called about Brooke, she also said she needed my help with something. I know an agent, Felicia Wilson, who’s in Afghanistan training Afghan police in investigations. She got back to me about that security footage Sarah was talking about.”
“What about it?” Brooke asked.
“Very clear footage of Michaels going into a Dr. Madad’s office and sitting in front of his computer.”
“So they immediately knew that Isaiah was on to something.”
“On to Dr. Madad anyway. It looks like Michaels was downloading something, and just as he left, he dropped an item at the door before he picked it up and shoved it into his pocket. Looked like a bracelet of some kind.”
Gavin shot a look at Brooke. “Guess you were right. It’s the bracelet they’re after.”
Victor followed Buzz around to the back of the house. Most homeowners were conscientious about locking their front doors. Sometimes they left the back door open. He waited while Buzz tried it.
“Locked,” Buzz whispered.
“Yeah, guess she’s more careful because of the kids.”
“Or she watched the news before she went to bed,” the man muttered. “Nothing but home invasions and shootings. Even I check my locks before I go to sleep.”
“Shut up and find a way in.”
One by one they tried the windows. All locked. “Going to have to break one,” Buzz said.
“Do the one in the kitchen then. It’s farthest away from her bedroom.”
“All the tools in the world and you don’t have a glass cutter?”
“Just do this, okay?”
“So, does she need to die?” Buzz asked. “I’m okay killing her, but I’m not killing kids.”
Victor had no desire to kill kids either. Hopefully, they’d sleep through the whole thing, but if not . . . “I guess it depends on how cooperative she is.”
“Yeah.”
Buzz pulled his fist back into his sleeve and gave the glass pane over the doorknob a firm tap. It fell to the tile floor and shattered. He reached through the hole and unlocked the dead bolt, then the knob. Victor stepped around the man and slipped inside. If Miranda heard the glass shatter and came to investigate, he wanted to be able to grab her before she could do something stupid like start screaming and alert her neighbors.
But no sound came from the back of the house. He swept the flashlight around the kitchen and noted the sink full of dishes and the laundry piled high in the corner next to a closed door he assumed hid the washer and dryer. Toys lay scattered over every surface. All signs of a grieving woman too overwhelmed to do anything except survive and make it to the next day. Too bad Michaels’s family had to suffer for his actions. But . . . not his problem.
Buzz nodded toward the bedrooms, and Victor fell in behind the man. He didn’t bother pulling his weapon. Two men in ski masks would be terrifying for the young mother. He paused. Then again, she had two children she’d probably fight to the death for. He pulled the gun.
Buzz peered in the first room on the left. “Kid,” he whispered. Second room was the baby’s. The room across the hall had to be the master. The door was cracked. Buzz nudged it with his elbow and it opened on silent hinges.
Victor could see Miranda in the bed. He turned to Buzz and motioned for the man to stand outside the room. “Cover the kids, we may need to use them.” He kept his voice low, almost nonexistent, but the woman gasped and sat up.
Victor strode to her side and placed the gun against her chin. She froze, eyes wide, fully awake and so scared he wondered if she’d be able to tell him anything. She trembled but didn’t make a sound. Probably afraid she’d wake her kids. Good. He needed her afraid.
A car door slammed, and without taking his gaze from Miranda, he jerked a hand at Buzz, who strode down the hallway.
“Now,” Victor whispered, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s up to you.”
Her eyes flashed to the door, then back to him. “What do you want?” she croaked.
“The bracelet.”
“Bracelet?” Confusion chased the fear from her eyes for a brief moment, and Victor wondered if they’d guessed wrong after all. Then her gaze hardened and slowly moved to her dresser. Elation swept over him. “Get it,” he said. “Now.”
She swallowed. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
Buzz returned to his side. “Three people in a Hummer just pulled up and they’re standing on the porch,” he murmured. “Looks like Asher James and Gavin Black. Couldn’t see the woman, but it’s probably Brooke Adams.”
Someone knocked on the front door. Miranda hesitated.
“The bracelet. Now!” Victor yelled and she flinched back against the headboard, then scrambled out of the bed.
“Mama?”
The little voice behind him spun his attention to the child staring at the two men in her mother’s bedroom. Buzz grabbed the kid and wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her back to him. She screamed, struggled, and reached out her arms. “Mama! Mama!”
The knocking on the front door increased in intensity.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” Buzz said between gritted teeth, “but I will.” His words were dead. No inflection or indication that killing the three-year-old would bother him any more than swatting a gnat. He lifted his weapon to the little girl’s head.
“No!” Miranda bolted to the dresser, grabbed the jewelry box, and dumped the contents onto the undisturbed part of the bottom of the comforter. She flipped the lamp on. “There!” she said. “Take it all, just don’t hurt her, please!” Tears tracked down her cheeks. The kid still screamed.
Victor spotted the bracelet and snatched it as the front door crashed in.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Asher hurried through the busted front door, passing Gavin, who fell in behind him. “Miranda! It’s Asher James! Are you okay?”
The kid was still screaming and Asher’s gut twisted. The black van parked out front two houses down had set off every danger alarm in his system, and he’d had Brooke call 911 the moment he saw it. He turned to Brooke. “Stay put.”
She pressed her phone to her ear. “They’re on the way.”
Asher caught Gavin’s gaze and pointed to the hallway where the cries still echoed. They crossed the living area, dodging toys and discarded sippy cups, and came to the hallway entrance. Light poured from the last bedroom on the right. Asher took one step forward only to halt when a figure dressed in black emerged from that room.
Asher lifted his weapon. “Stop right there!”
Another man pushed in front of his partner, a little girl swinging from his grasp. Erin. The man hefted her in front of his head.
Adrenaline ramping into overload, Asher held still, noting the defensive move. He couldn’t make a head shot without hitting the little girl. “I don’t know what you want here, but this is the end of the line. Cops are on the way. Put the girl down.”
“Lower your weapon and let us pass.” The voice sounded familiar and Asher scrambled to place it, while the child’s tear-streaked face flushed a deeper red as her cries intensified.
“Put her down!” Miranda cried. “Give her to me!”
The woman rushed toward the masked man who held the little girl. The one in back turned and punched her in the face. She went down and the three-year-old’s screeches rose another octave.
“Mama! Mama! Get me! Get me!”
“Back off,” the man in front growled at Asher. He held the weapon at Erin’s temple. “Back off or it’ll be your fault she dies.”
Asher glanced at Gavin, who’d scooted in to his line of sight on the left and nodded. Biting back a growl of frustration, Asher opened his hand and let his Glock spin on his index finger so it pointed to the ceiling. Gavin did the sa
me.
“Just let the kid go,” Asher said.
His words landed on deaf ears.
“Get out of the way,” Erin’s captor said. His hand didn’t waver, the crying child didn’t seem to faze him. He walked forward, confident no one would stop him.
Well, he was right about that. Asher wouldn’t do anything while he held a weapon against the girl’s head. The man’s partner, also dressed in black with a matching ski mask, walked behind him, hand on his shoulder, his own weapon alternating between them and Miranda.
The last time the man in back turned away from her, Miranda rose from the floor, hand pressed against her mouth. Her frantic eyes met Asher’s and he waved her back, silently pleading with her not to do anything to draw more attention to herself. She paused, obviously torn between wanting to go after her child and trusting Asher to rescue her. Thankfully, she stayed put and Asher walked backward while the men walked forward. He kept his body between them and Brooke and didn’t think they’d spotted her yet.
“Open the door,” the one in front said. The child had stopped crying and was now hiccuping, coughing—then gagged and spewed, emptying her stomach. The man holding her cursed but didn’t loosen his grip.
Asher threw the door open. “Give me the girl and we won’t stop you from leaving. You don’t want to take her with you, she’ll just slow you down.” There was no way Asher planned to let them leave with the child. If she disappeared into the car with them, he had a feeling that would be the last time anyone would see her alive.
The man’s partner exited behind him. Sirens screamed in the distance and the two froze for a second.
“Go, go, go,” the one holding Erin yelled as he stood at the front door. He aimed his weapon away from the three-year-old and pointed it at Asher. “We get caught, she dies.”
“No!” Brooke launched herself at the man, grabbing the arm that trapped Erin against him and pulling him sideways, unbalancing him for a fraction of a second. The distraction was enough for Asher and Gavin.
“Get the gun!” Asher yelled the order at Gavin and went for the man holding Erin. Asher’s fist landed on the cloth-covered cheek. The man hollered, jerked back, and lost his grip on the girl. Erin tumbled to the floor, and Asher thought Miranda may have grabbed her, but his full concentration was on not letting the man kill him—or Brooke—as he grabbed the man’s gun arm.
A pistol cracked and Gavin jerked. Another shot fired and the bullet whizzed past Asher’s head, missing by millimeters. The intruder yanked out of his grasp and stumbled down the steps. More bullets slammed the outside of the house and Asher had no choice but to duck and kick the door shut.
Seconds later, an engine roared and tires squealed against the concrete drive. Asher rolled to see Brooke crouched on the floor, ducked against the flying bullets. Her body shook, but no sound came from her. He looked back over his shoulder to see Gavin hunched over the mother and her daughter. Blood dripped from Gavin’s shoulder. “You hit?”
“A graze. Nothing serious.”
Asher registered another child crying and figured it was Zac. With Gavin caring for the mother and daughter, Asher hurried to Brooke’s side and placed a hand on her arm. “Brooke, it’s over.”
She looked up and shook her head as though to dislodge unpleasant memories. He knew how she felt. She sat up, her eyes searching behind him. “Miranda? Erin?”
“They’re okay.”
A breath whooshed from her and she pressed the heels of her palms against her temples. “What just happened?”
“We got here in time to prevent some really bad stuff, thanks to you.” The crying baby at the back of the house demanded attention. “I’m going to go get Zac before he has a stroke. Miranda doesn’t seem to be able to move at the moment.” The woman still sat on the floor holding the now quiet Erin, who gripped her mother’s pajama top in both hands. The three-year-old wasn’t about to let anyone separate her from Miranda.
“Thank you,” Miranda said to Brooke. “Thank you.”
Asher hurried down the hallway and found the baby standing in his crib, still hollering. As soon as he saw Asher, the cries stopped and he held up his hands. Asher lifted the tiny boy and settled him against his chest, then used the hem of his shirt to clean the tears and snot.
“Ew,” Brooke said from the door. “Why do guys think that’s okay?”
Asher’s muscles relaxed a fraction and he shot her a small smile. “It’s just a little water.”
“It’s snot. It’s gross.”
“Yeah, well, a little snot never hurt anyone.”
Zac’s eyes bounced between Asher and Brooke. “Mama.”
Asher smoothed the sleep-spiked dark hair. “Come on, let’s go see her. I’m sure she’s anxious to see you too.”
When he returned to the den area, officers were inside talking to Gavin and Miranda. Erin had fallen asleep on her mother’s shoulder, her small fist now tangled in the woman’s hair.
Miranda’s gaze met his and relieved tears filled her eyes when she spotted her son safely in his arms. Zac didn’t seem to mind Asher holding him, so Asher didn’t bother to hand him over. Miranda could see he was safe, and she had her hands full with the sleeping, but still clinging, three-year-old.
Asher stepped up to the officers and identified himself as Gavin’s coworker, then turned to Miranda. “Do you have someone you can stay the night with?”
“I . . . um . . . yes.” She swiped a tear from her cheek. “I can call my parents. They’ll come get us.”
“Get whatever you need packed and the officers can escort you there.” He eyed the nearest one. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not.” The man’s kind eyes assured Asher it was no trouble at all.
Miranda’s eyes cleared and she let her gaze linger on his. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she wanted to speak with him in private.
He gave her a slight nod and helped her up. “Why don’t I help you put the kids back to bed so you can pack?”
“If I can get Erin to let go of me, that would be great.” She looked at Brooke. “You want to help?”
“Sure.” Brooke turned to the officers. “I’ll be back in just a bit.”
Asher caught Gavin’s eye and gave him the “keep them busy” look.
Gavin got the message. “You think one of the paramedics could take a look at this arm?”
“Yeah, that was a close one.”
Their voices faded as Asher followed Miranda and Brooke down the hallway.
Brooke’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking and she knew that was normal. Just like when she’d been caught in a cross fire outside the base on her way back from an afternoon out with her escort. It had been brief, and the insurgents hastily dispatched, but it had stayed with her in the form of the shakes for hours afterward.
This was apparently going to be no different.
“That was a brave thing you did,” Asher said softly to her as they walked down the hall.
“Brave or stupid?”
“Brave. Definitely brave. What would have been stupid would be letting them leave with the child. You did good, Brooke.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Once inside the master bedroom, Miranda shut the door. Asher still held Zac, and Erin continued to sleep on her mother’s shoulder. Miranda gestured to the pile of jewelry at the bottom of her bed. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the cops in case I shouldn’t, but those guys were here for that bracelet you left me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Brooke said. “We didn’t figure it out until a short time ago—and then realized we could have inadvertently put you in danger.”
“Which is why you showed up on my doorstep at two o’clock in the morning?”
“Exactly,” Asher said, shifting the wiggling baby to his other arm.
“Well,” Brooke said, “you didn’t answer your phone.”
“I put it on ‘do not disturb’ at night.”
“Did they get the brac
elet?” Brooke asked.
“They got the one Isaiah gave me, not the one you did.”
Brooke lifted a brow.
Miranda shot her a tight smile. “I hadn’t put it in my jewelry box yet. After you handed me the bracelet and walked out, Zac started screaming, so I had to fix him a bottle.” She eyed her son. “Which I probably should do now so he’ll go back to sleep.” She pulled Erin’s fingers out of her hair and laid her in the middle of the big king-size bed. They all held their breaths as the child stirred, then rolled over and settled back into a peaceful snooze.
In single file, they tiptoed out of the room and followed Miranda into the den. Gavin sat on the couch, missing his left sleeve, a white bandage covering the upper part of his bicep. The officers were gone. “They’re canvassing the neighbors,” Gavin said, “checking to see if they saw anything.”
“Good,” Asher said. “Are you okay?”
“Nothing a little healing won’t take care of. The bullet just took a chunk of skin and tissue, so I’ll be good as new in a couple of weeks.”
No doubt an exaggeration, but Brooke noted Asher didn’t seem to be too concerned either.
Miranda went to the mantel, took down a small wooden box, and opened it. She pulled out the charm bracelet and handed it to Brooke. “I think Isaiah meant for you to have this all along. You said that he told you to keep it safe.”
“I thought he meant keep it safe to give to you, though.”
“No, there’s something about this bracelet that must be different than mine. Obviously, I don’t have the other one so we can’t compare them, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Brooke passed the jewelry to Asher. “You’re the one with access to resources. Maybe you should keep it.”
Asher pocketed it. “We’ll work on this in the morning.”
Gavin yawned. “It is morning.”
“Okay, after a few hours of sleep.”
One of the officers stuck his head in the door. “Ma’am, your parents are here,” he said to Miranda.
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