by Terri Reed
“The sheriff is okay with that?” Ashley blurted out the question.
“Yes, he’s on board for me to escort you to Los Angeles. The district attorney’s office is arranging hotel rooms at the Denver airport for tonight and tickets on the first plane out in the morning.”
“Good,” Kaitlyn said.
“Kaitlyn,” the sheriff called from the doorway of his office and waved her over.
“Excuse me, the boss calls.” Kaitlyn left them to join the sheriff in his office.
Ashley put her hand on Chase’s arm. “I don’t know what to say. You shouldn’t be taking time away from your work for me.”
“Ashley, I’m doing my job. Keeping you safe is a priority.” The phone on his desk rang. “I’m expecting a call.”
While Chase took his call, Ashley marveled at the way these people were rallying around her. It didn’t make any sense to her. In her limited experience, very few people would go out of their way to assist a stranger.
But they had signed up to do just that, she reasoned. And she shouldn’t read anything more into their willingness to help her. She needed to keep an emotional barrier up and the best way for her to do that was to remember Chase and Kaitlyn were being paid to protect and serve.
Chase hung up the phone, his expression troubled. Dread filled Ashley. What now?
* * *
Chase stared at his desk phone for a moment, pondering the upsetting news he’d just learned. Ashley sat in the chair beside his desk, drawing his attention. He was glad to see she’d pulled herself together. He’d sensed she was on the verge of a breakdown when she’d hurried to the restroom. Empathy curled through Chase. Her guilt had been palpable when he’d told her of Gregor’s demise. Chase hoped she really understood that the blame for her friend’s death laid at the feet of the one who set the fire and the one who’d ordered the deed done.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. “That was Detective Peters’s boss. The real Detective Peters,” he amended, because they didn’t have a name yet for the man Chase shot. “Macintosh is sending over some photos and I want you to see if you can identify the man you saw killed.”
Her chin dipped. “Do you think it might not have been Detective Peters?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what to think. Did you know that Sokolov is believed to be the head of a drug cartel with ties to Eastern Europe?”
“No.” Surprise colored her voice. “I never saw any drugs at the restaurant.”
The ding of an incoming email drew his gaze to his computer screen. He opened the post from Chief Macintosh and clicked on the attachment. An image appeared with two rows of four mug shots, each one numbered. Chase didn’t know which was the real detective.
He turned the monitor so Ashley could see the pictures. “Take your time,” he told her.
She stared at the screen with uncertainty written across her face. “He was far away and it was dark.”
“But not too dark for you to see Sokolov?”
“There was a street lamp. Mr. Sokolov was standing beneath it, but the other man was shadowed.”
“Close your eyes and go back to that night if it helps.”
She did as he suggested and after a moment she opened her eyes. Taking control of the mouse, she blew up each photo and stared at it, before moving on to the next one. Finally on photo number seven, she sat back. “That was him. I’m sure of it.”
“I’ll let Macintosh know,” he said. He sent off a quick email, telling the chief the witness had identified photo number seven.
A few seconds later, Macintosh replied. Chase read the email. “You’ve identified Detective Peters. The detective went rogue. They don’t know why he was there in the alley that night. He told no one of his plans. Thus why there was no backup.”
She winced. “Do you think he was dirty?”
Chase hoped not. “Hard to say at this point. It would really help if you could remember anything that the detective said.”
“I’ve been trying,” she said. “His voice was more of a murmur so I don’t recall his exact words. But Mr. Sokolov didn’t appear to be concerned with anybody hearing him.”
Chase read the rest of the email. “Detective Peters’s body was found dumped in the ocean and washed up on shore. If that hadn’t happened, he would still be missing.”
There was no mistaking the surprise in Ashley’s red-rimmed eyes. “Someone moved him. And...” She grimaced.
She didn’t need to state the rest. Yes, someone had tried to cover up the crime. “Are you sure, without a doubt, it was Maksim Sokolov who pulled the trigger?” Even though Alex had asked the question earlier, Chase needed to reaffirm her answer.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Chase was glad to hear her confidence.
She heaved a sigh. “Okay. Now you all know who was shot, when and where. Do I have to go back to LA?”
“Yes, you do. The district attorney wants to depose you himself and then at some point you’ll have to appear before a grand jury, then in court.”
She made a pained face. “He’ll be there, in court, right?”
Chase wasn’t going to sugarcoat the truth. “If we can make the charges stick and take him to trial. Then yes, Sokolov will be in the courtroom and he will be watching you. But you don’t have to speak to him. All you’ll need to do is testify that he was the one you saw pull the trigger.”
“You’ll be with me?”
He understood her concern. The case could take months if not years to go to trial. “I promise. No matter how long it takes.”
“But what about your job?” The distress in her tone was touching.
“You let me worry about that. I’ll work it out with the sheriff.” Not wanting to examine why he’d make such a promise, he turned off his computer and gathered his personal belongings. “Come on. We’ll head to my place. I need to pack a bag and change into clean clothes before we head to Denver.”
“My duffel bag?”
“It’s still in the SUV. We’ll grab it on the way to my truck.” He paused. “I’ll need to text Lucinda to let her know we’re on our way.”
Ashley’s eyebrows rose. “Who’s Lucinda? Your wife?”
“No, the woman who raised me,” he said. After sending the text, he put his hand to the small of Ashley’s back and led her outside. “Lucinda Jones was my nanny as a child. When I moved here, I brought her with me. Her husband passed several years ago, and she didn’t want to move to Florida where her adult son and his family reside.”
“What about your parents?”
“They live in Chicago. Dad’s a cardiologist and Mom’s the hospital administrator.” And not really a part of his life except for on holidays. They were too consumed by their professions.
After retrieving her bag, he helped her climb into his truck, a blue metallic 1987 Silverado pickup.
Once they were on the road, she smoothed a hand over the dashboard. “This is pretty cool.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“I think one of my mom’s boyfriends had one of these back in the day.”
He slanted her a quick glance. “Were there many boyfriends?”
Ashley sat back and gripped the edge of the bucket seat. “Yes. My mother is a difficult and complicated woman.”
He understood difficult and complicated. Two words he could attribute to his own parents. “What about your father?”
“I was a baby when he left.” She turned her head away. “Did you restore the truck yourself?”
Clearly, she didn’t want to talk about her family. There would be time to assuage his curiosity about Ashley. But for now the truck was a neutral topic.
“I did.” He couldn’t keep the pride out of his tone. “Rebuilding the truck was a labor of love and a challenge. It was one of my first
purchases when I arrived in Bristle Township. I needed something to get me around, but I didn’t want anything fancy. And because I was low on funds, I bought this beast from a local farmer who had it sitting in a barn. Over the next year or so, I refurbished her every night and weekend.”
Ashley’s laugh filled the cab as her gaze swung to him. “You call the truck a her?”
Enjoying the sound of her laugh, he said, “Yep. Blue Belle.”
“Hello, Blue Belle.”
Her smile tugged at him. Not for the first time, he battled the draw of attraction. She was so pretty. He recalled her words about men not thinking of her in terms of dating, only as the friend or the sister. He hated to think she didn’t believe herself to be beautiful and attractive. But it wasn’t his place to inform her that she was both. His job was to protect her.
He pulled into the driveway of his one-level mid-century modern home with a small yard and shut off the engine.
“Nice place,” she commented.
“Thank you. It was a fixer-upper when I bought it. Someday I plan to get a dog but just haven’t taken the time.” He climbed out and came around to her side of the cab to open her door. She didn’t move. “Ashley?”
“What if he sends more assassins after me? I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be putting you and Lucinda in danger.”
“I can’t leave you out here,” he said. “We won’t be long.” He held out his hand. “Lucinda will have dinner ready. And we don’t want to keep her waiting.”
As they entered the house, Chase couldn’t stop from glancing over his shoulder at the quiet residential street as Ashley’s words rang through his head. There was validity to her fear.
What were the chances that a man like Sokolov would only send one assassin to Bristle Township?
FOUR
Ashley savored each bite of the home-cooked meal of spaghetti and meatballs as if it were her last. Which, she thought somewhat morbidly, it could be if more hit men came after her. All the more reason to eat every last bite.
After arriving at Chase’s house and being introduced to the woman whom he shared the place with, Ashley had freshened up, putting on a clean light-weight pink sweater and cotton slacks, then helped get the meal on the table. “Thank you so much for this deliciousness,” she said to the elderly woman sitting in a wheelchair at the end of the table.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it.” Lucinda Jones’s dark eyes twinkled with pleasure. “Can’t send you and Chase off on an empty stomach.”
Ashley put her hand to her full tummy. “No chance of that.”
“We won’t be gone for too long,” Chase assured the woman. He’d showered, shaved and changed out of his uniform into jeans that fit his lean form well. His sandy blond hair, still damp at the ends, curled at his nape. The plaid shirt in hues of blue deepened the color of his blue eyes. “A day or two at the most.”
Ashley wasn’t sure he should be making such a promise on her behalf. Once she arrived back in Los Angeles, she might not be returning to Colorado. The district attorney may want her to stay put. Or at the very least, she would be heading off to another new place where she could disappear, until it was time to testify in open court.
She suppressed a shiver of dread. There was still much to do before that horrible day arrived. First, they needed to drive to Denver and fly to southern California where she would be deposed by the district attorney. So many things could go wrong between here and there. And Chase knew it, too. She’d seen the way he’d secured the house, making sure every window was shut, every door locked and the curtains pulled closed.
Chase’s cell phone trilled from inside his front shirt pocket.
Lucinda arched an eyebrow.
He shrugged. “I’m expecting this. I have to take it.” He rose from the table. “Excuse me.” He walked away, his deep voice low as he answered the call.
Lucinda used the toggle on the console of her electric wheelchair to move closer to Ashley. She touched Ashley’s arm. “Chase tells me you’re in some trouble.”
Startled, Ashley stared at the woman. “Yes. How much did he tell you?”
“No details, just enough for me to know to pray for you both.”
For some reason the older woman’s words caused Ashley’s throat to close. She quickly drank from her water goblet, letting the cool liquid calm her throat and push back the rising tide of emotion. She couldn’t remember ever having anyone pray specifically for her. When she was sure she had control over her vocals, she said, “I appreciate your prayers. I’m not sure I deserve them.”
“Everyone deserves to be held in prayer,” Lucinda responded with a pat on Ashley’s arm.
Not wanting to debate the point, Ashley decided to give in to her curiosity and said, “You were Chase’s nanny.”
A smile crinkled the corners of Lucinda’s eyes. “Yes. I started taking care of him not long after he was born. He was the crankiest, loudest baby ever.”
Adjectives that Ashley wouldn’t have attributed to the man she was getting to know. “But you have your own children?”
“I do. A son. He was ten when I went to work for the Fredrick family. After my husband passed, I no longer had a reason to stay in Chicago, but didn’t want to go south to Florida where my son and his family now live. Too hot. I prefer to have seasons. Chase was a dear to invite me to come here.”
A dear. What an apt phrase. “How long did you care for Chase?”
“Until high school,” Lucinda answered. “Even then, he would show up on our doorstep more often than not.”
“It beat eating alone,” Chase interjected as he returned. “That was one of the district attorney’s assistants. Everything’s all arranged. She’s texting me the flight information and the hotel confirmation.”
No sooner had he said the words than a ding from his phone let them know the text had arrived.
Ashley was more interested in learning about Chase. “Your parents weren’t home for dinner?” Not that her own mother had been home or made dinner often, but she’d imagined that Chase grew up with two attentive parents when they weren’t working.
“Rarely.” He picked up their empty plates and strode into the kitchen.
“If Chase were a different kind of man, he could’ve gotten himself into some serious trouble,” Lucinda said as she backed her chair away from the table.
Chase stepped into the arched doorway between the dining room and kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “You taught me well, Lucinda. Hard work and service for others is what life is about. Not partying like most of my peers.”
Lucinda beamed. “Yes and look at you now. You’re a fine deputy.” She turned to Ashley, pinning her with an intent stare. “A fine catch.”
Ashley smothered a choked laugh. She had no words to respond with.
“Enough, Lucinda.” Chase tossed the towel onto the counter and walked fully into the dining room. Amusement sparked in his eyes. “She’s hoping I will find someone to settle down with. But I am settled. My life’s just about perfect the way it is.”
Something strange twisted in Ashley’s gut.
Lucinda snorted. “You keep telling yourself that. I’d like some babies to cuddle.” She winked at Ashley. “I like to tease him. But I can’t wait for him to have more in his life than work.”
“I’m sure he will.” Except she wouldn’t be here to see it.
Settle down. Babies. All normal, healthy things for anyone to want. A longing from some place deep inside of Ashley tugged for attention, but she staunchly ignored the pull. Her life would never be normal. Not that she even knew what that was. Her childhood had been chaotic and at times scary.
Besides, a family of her own wasn’t something she could dream about, not when there was a man out there bent on killing her.
She would never be safe enough to have a life free from fear. The thought made her shou
lders droop and fatigue set in.
Shaking his head with good-natured humor at Lucinda’s not so subtle matchmaking, Chase kissed the older woman’s cheek. “It’s time that we head out.” He straightened and held out his hand to Ashley. “We’ll make it to the airport hotel just after dark.”
Slipping her hand into his, Ashley cherished the comforting and warm contact as he helped her to her feet. The world spun and for a moment she clung to him.
His concerned gaze made her withdraw her hand and plant her feet as her equilibrium returned. “Head rush. Happens sometimes.”
Accepting her explanation with a nod, he moved to grab their bags from the couch and walked outside.
Ashley bent to hug Lucinda. “Again, thank you. It was lovely to meet you.”
“And you, dear,” the older woman said. “I’ll lift you both up in prayer. And you can be assured Chase will keep you safe.”
But at what cost? Ashley stifled the question, not wanting to cause Lucinda any undue worry. Closing the door behind her, Ashley hurried to the truck. Chase stowed their bags behind the bucket seats. From a holster hidden beneath the right pant leg of his jeans, he removed a gun.
She noticed it wasn’t the same sort of weapon he’d been carrying earlier. This one was smaller but she was sure just as lethal. He put the gun in the glove box.
“It’s my personal weapon. I had to surrender my service sidearm at the station.”
Her stomach clenched. He’d shot someone to protect her today. She hoped and prayed he wouldn’t have to do that again.
“Are you close with your parents now that you’re an adult?” she asked, hoping to learn more about this man she was trusting her life with.
He started up the engine and backed out of the driveway. Once on the road, he answered, “Not especially. Don’t get me wrong. I love them. They’re great people. They’ve accomplished so much. I just don’t know them, and they don’t really know me. Kind of hard to build a relationship when they were gone so much of the time.”
“That must’ve been hard for you. But you had Lucinda.” What she wouldn’t have given to have someone like Lucinda in her life.
