by Carmen Green
He felt an icy beat of tension spread around him and kept his eye on them, carefully moving his hand toward his weapon. The woman took off her sunglasses and moved her shoulder to let one of the straps of the purse drop to the side. She turned slightly, pulled open her purse, slipping the sunglasses inside. He had the weapon in his hand and reached for Renee when he saw the woman pull a gun from the bag.
She’d shot the guard without uttering a word. He heard the sound of screams and he’d squeezed off a single round. He didn’t watch her fall, but trained his weapon on the other half of the couple. The man’s face turned chalk-white as Chris stood there with his arms out in front of him, the gun grasped between his hands pointed at him.
“FBI. Put it down,” he said, watching the man’s eyes widen and blink. Breathing hard, the guy kept his gaze steady as he stepped to the side toward the woman. The barrel of the gun never wavered and stayed on him.
“Situation,” the man said with a slightly Slavic accent.
Chris didn’t know what the hell the man was talking about. “Put your weapon down,” he bit out. He had no way of knowing what was going on in the rest of the store. He kept his focus on the man in front of him and hoped like hell everyone was down on the floor, out of the line of fire. The sound of whimpers and crying filled the store.
The man took another step and stood beside the woman lying on the floor, blood now covering the front of her dress.
“Situation.” His voice was louder this time, never taking his eyes off Chris.
The tingly beep of what sounded like an alarm from a watch or cell phone came from the woman’s purse. He saw the man’s green eyes flash with icy rage then go carefully blank. Chris dived to the side and squeezed the trigger twice. He vaguely registered the sound of glass exploding to his right and watched as the man fell back before his shoulder hit the hard floor. He rolled, keeping his gun trained toward the man. Seconds later, he got to his feet and moved carefully toward the front of the store. Blood seeped from two holes in the man’s chest. He stepped over the man’s gun that lay a few feet away. The man’s chest raised and lowered and he could hear the ragged sound of his breathing. The woman remained motionless, crumpled on the floor beneath a pool of blood. He walked to the security guard and kneeled on the floor beside him. Chris pressed fingers to the man’s neck and was glad to feel a faint pulse.
He stood, then turned his gaze toward the rear of the store. Renee lay on the floor. Her face was pale and she watched him. He saw the fear and terror in her wide brown eyes. He’d had no choice but to shoot them. Would she look at him with disgust now that she’d seen firsthand that he could kill? He saw no condemnation in her expression and felt a wave of relief. Why did he care what she thought?
He watched her take a shaky breath, then place a small white object on the floor beside her and rise to her feet. He tightened his jaw against the urge to go and comfort her. Curious, he looked closely at the container.
Mace. He jerked his gaze back to her and knew she would have fought back if given a chance. A part of him admired her bravery even as he blocked out the terrifying thought of her attempting to use Mace against armed robbers. He looked away, pushed aside his feelings and scanned the room. Ms. Morgan lay on the floor beside Renee with her hands covering her face and the young couple lay huddled on the floor in the back holding hands. The woman’s sobs made her shoulders shake.
“Is anyone hurt?” His voice was sharp. He saw the salesman rise hesitantly from behind the counter. “I’m fine,” the man said, looking around the room. “Mom,” he yelled when he saw Ms. Morgan on the floor. Chris watched the man run to the woman. The young man looked at his mother, then said, “We’re…” His voice sounded weak and a little shaky. He cleared his throat and repeated. “We’re okay.”
The saleswoman got to her feet and leaned against the counter. “I’m good,” she said.
Chris nodded and lowered his gun. “Did anybody sound the alarm?”
“I did,” the other saleswoman said, leaning against the counter as if it were the only thing holding her upright.
Renee walked toward him. He saw fear struggle with worry. “Are you all right?” Her voice was soft and she gripped the straps of her purse in her hand.
Chris felt something shift inside him. “I’m fine.” He looked at the three people who lay bleeding on the floor and returned his gaze to her.
Her lips tightened and she came toward him.
He shook his head. “No. Stay there.” He didn’t want her to see the violence up close.
She ignored him. When she stood in front of him, she reached inside her purse and pulled out a tissue then pressed it to his cheek. “You’re bleeding,” she said.
He looked on the floor where he’d been standing when he shot the man. Shattered glass from the display case lay on the floor. A piece of it must have cut him.
With his free hand, he reached up and grasped her wrist and felt her tremble. Gently he pulled her hand and the blood-smeared tissue away from his face. Suddenly he felt the sting of pain on his cheek and knew he’d feel more pain once the adrenaline wore off. But it was the warmth of her touch that stayed with him and made him feel emotions he didn’t want to examine. “I’m fine,” he said and squeezed her hand.
She stared into his eyes for a long moment before nodding her head. She pulled her hand away and he released her, strangely reluctant to let her go. He watched her straighten her shoulders and look at the man holding a now-crying Ms. Morgan. She turned as if to look toward the victims. “Don’t,” he said and moved to block her view.
She said nothing, but looked at him, then turned so she had her back to the victims and walked toward Ms. Morgan. He watched her reach for her purse before kneeling on the other side of the older woman who was now sitting up, leaning against the man. Renee opened her purse and pressed another tissue in the woman’s hand.
Chris unclipped his cell phone and began dialing. The local cops should be here soon but they needed to get multiple ambulances here. As he listened to the phone ring, he studied Renee and wondered what other surprises lay beneath her quiet demeanor. He wondered if he could continue to resist a woman he found absolutely fascinating.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Renee shifted in a hard plastic chair that had been positioned in front of one of the glass display cases, watching the buzz of activity. She didn’t know how Chris had known she was considering sitting on the floor. Her knees had begun to feel about as stable as warm Jell-O and she was afraid she’d end up sprawled on the carpet in an unsightly heap if they gave out. Somehow, he’d known how she was feeling and had the salesman get a chair for her and the rest of the women.
She was shaken, as Aunt Gert liked to say, but shaken didn’t begin to cover how she felt. Watching three people get shot was catching up with her, but she refused to curl up in a fetal position and cry like she wanted. Crying would wait until she was at home alone. Like always.
Mountain View police officers seemed to swarm the store. She’d already spoken to one of the policemen and told him her version of what had happened. Chris had remained close during the whole process. For that, she was grateful. She hated to admit it, but she didn’t like dealing with the police. It brought back memories she wanted to keep buried.
She moved her gaze from a woman taking pictures of the wall and looked at Chris, who was flanked by two officers. He looked calm, controlled and totally comfortable in what to her seemed like chaos. She supposed he was comfortable. He worked for the FBI. She was anything but comfortable and it was getting harder for her to hold it together as time went on.
She was so glad Chris had been here. She kept thinking about what could have happened. Who knew what the robbers had planned to do? They could have killed everyone if Chris hadn’t been there. He’d reacted so quickly and pushed her out of harm’s way before she’d even fully understood what was happening. He’d put his life on the line to protect all of them with no hesitation. At that moment, she kne
w she’d made the right decision when she’d asked for his help. Today, he’d shown her that she could trust him with her life.
Her hands began to shake and they felt cold. She rubbed them on her skirt to warm them. She wanted to go home. She wanted to sit in her library and look at her books and enjoy the peace and quiet and forget she ever stepped foot inside this store.
Weariness settled on her like a heavy blanket. She leaned back in the chair and wished for the day to end. Chris turned and looked at her. It was as if he had some sort of radar when it came to her. He said something to one of the officers and walked toward her looking as polished as if he’d just started his day. When he reached her chair, he leaned down, his golden-brown eyes level with her own.
“We can leave now,” he said, his voice deep and calm.
She put the strap of her purse on her arm and stood. He walked at her side, guiding her through the maze of law enforcement officers toward the front of the store. She shuddered when she saw the dark stains of blood on the carpet. For one brief moment, she went back in time and heard the sound of gunfire and saw the guard falling, flying back like he’d been punched with a giant fist.
She felt Chris put his arm around her and shift to block her view of the bloody floor. She stared at the bright white cotton of his dress shirt.
“It’s over, Renee.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze and lifted her chin.
She looked at his face and into eyes that were becoming more familiar. “It’s over,” he said.
His quiet strength surrounded her, supporting her just as his arms supported her now.
“I want to go home,” she said then bit her lip to stop the trembling.
He led her out of the store and for once she was grateful for the hot summer sun.
* * *
Renee tried to focus on gently rolling hills that surrounded Mountain View, but in her mind, she saw the woman shooting the guard. That scene played over and over in her head like a bad movie stuck on repeat. Her chest felt tight and her breathing was short, shallow and way too fast. She was going to have to calm down or else she was going to lose it. Big-time. She was too far gone to close her eyes and meditate. She was scared. Scared to experience again the total helplessness and stunned disbelief she’d felt in the store. Afraid to think about what would have happened if Chris hadn’t been in the store with her.
No, she said to herself, I’m not going to lose it. She was fine. What she needed was something to do. Anything to take her mind off what she’d witnessed today. Renee looked down at her purse on the seat beside her and yanked it open, nearly spilling its contents onto the floor. She pulled out her PDA. It contained all her appointments and to-do list. She opened her to-do list. Buy groceries was first on the list. She quickly opened a blank screen and began writing. It didn’t matter that she had a grocery list on her laptop at home. What mattered now was having something to do because thinking about anything other than what was in the aisles of Bruno’s grocery store was more than she could handle.
* * *
Chris divided his attention between the winding road leading back to Renee’s house and Renee. It sounded as if she were sending messages in Morse code on her PDA and he was pretty sure she didn’t realize she was tapping her foot. The bad part was she was tapping it so fast it was making him feel tired.
He cursed silently. He wanted a shower, a cold beer and a good baseball game playing on the television, but he knew he wouldn’t get any of them today. He couldn’t let her face what was coming alone.
She had all the signs of someone getting ready to crash and crash hard. He knew the signs because he’d been where she was right now. The hell of it was it was going to get worse and she didn’t even know it was coming.
* * *
Renee looked up when the car came to a stop. They were parked in front of her house and she was so glad to be home. She stuffed her PDA back into her purse and reached for the handle on the door to get out. She was pulled back against the seat by the seat belt. Smooth, Renee. Real smooth, she thought as she fumbled with the release mechanism. She frowned when the buckle slipped from her hands for the second time. Her hands were shaking so hard that she couldn’t release the seat belt. Renee pressed her lips together in concentration and tried again and missed again.
Chris reached across and disengaged her seat belt. His hands looked hard, strong and steady. Thankful and a little embarrassed, she moved the belt out of her way and got out. She swung the strap of the purse over her shoulder and walked toward her house. She moved quickly up the walkway then climbed the stairs to the porch. She needed to get Chris inside the house and on his way because she didn’t know how long she could hold it together.
She opened her purse and took her keys out of the zippered pocket before promptly dropping them on the porch. Feeling heat rush to her cheeks, she bent down to get them. It took major effort to pick them up with her hand shaking so much and she nearly dropped them again. When she stood, she gave him a small, embarrassed smile. With unsteady hands, she separated the key to the front door and tried to insert it into the lock. The more she tried the more her hands shook. She blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t.
She gripped the key and moved it toward the lock once more, then she felt the warmth and strength of Chris’s hand covering her own. Slowly, gently, he steadied her hand and she put the key in the lock and opened the door.
She wanted to go inside and shut him out. She didn’t want to face him, to see pity in his expression. She’d seen enough of that when she was in school. But she couldn’t ignore him and she wasn’t a coward. She stepped inside and closed the door. When she turned to face him, she didn’t see pity. She saw strength, compassion and a world of understanding. He understood her, not the image she presented to other people, but her. For the first time, she realized that this man saw the real woman and he accepted who she was. She could just be.
The tears she’d been fighting to suppress welled in her eyes before streaming down her cheeks. Chris moved forward, wrapping his arms around her, and held her while she cried.
CHAPTER 6
Chris held her and continued to hold her long after the hard, gut-wrenching sobs gave way to silent tears. It was damn hard listening to her cry. He wanted to comfort her, to wipe away the images he was sure would haunt her tonight. But he knew he could no more prevent her from suffering than he could make his mother stay in one place when he was a boy. So, he held her and hoped it was enough.
She was tougher than she looked. She hadn’t cried out when the first shots were fired like one of the other women in the store. His training and experience had prepared him for all kinds of scenarios, but even those with training sometimes fell apart when the bullets flying were real and coming toward you. Renee had held it together before, during and after the robbery, which made what he’d had to do a lot easier. For her sake, he hoped both the suspects survived, but he’d deal with it if they didn’t. He’d had to deal with killing a suspect as a cop in California. He had fellow cops and the departmental shrink to help. He hoped Renee had someone she could turn to for help.
He looked down and rubbed her back. Holding her felt…right. In the past, he’d always felt awkward giving comfort to a woman, but comforting her was as natural as breathing. She was quieter now and the shudders, which had racked her body, had been reduced to the occasional shiver. The steady ticktock of the grandfather clock filled the silence and he felt her shift. Reluctantly he loosened his embrace.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and when she looked up at him with her chocolate-brown eyes, he wanted to take her in his arms again.
“I…” She cleared her throat. “Thank you—” her voice was deeper “—for everything.”
He didn’t know why she was thanking him. He’d been doing his job. What he’d been trained to do, but she didn’t want nor did she need to hear that. “You’re welcome,” he said. She looked tired and not quite steady on her feet.
“I know we agreed to work more today, but I can’t do it. Not after—” She stopped. “Do you think they’ll let us know how the guard is doing?”
“I’ll see what I can find out.” Technically the hospital would only release the bare amount of information about a patient to non–family members.
He’d go to the hospital himself to learn the man’s condition if it would make her life a little easier. She looked as if she was remaining upright by sheer will. “Is there anyone you want to call? You shouldn’t to be alone tonight.”
She shook her head. “No. Aunt Gert won’t be back from Biloxi for a few days. I’ll be okay. I’m just tired.”
There was no way in hell he was going to leave her alone. He remembered all too well the nights he’d been haunted by hellish nightmares. His friend Will had shown up at his apartment with a one-hundred-and-five-dollar bottle of Scotch and pizza. He didn’t remember eating much, but the Scotch had gone down warm and smooth when he’d awakened in a cold sweat. Reliving the moments when he wasn’t sure if he’d be fast enough to squeeze the trigger of his gun before an enraged ex-husband made good on his promise to kill his ex-wife and children.
He would have to stay with her. “I need to go through Marc’s stuff again. Why don’t I hang out down in the office down here. I can let myself out when I leave.”
“I don’t…”
He spoke over her obvious reluctance. “And I need a secure Internet connection to check on the Florida driver’s license since we didn’t get information from the jewelry store.” It was a lie. He could get that information without using her network, but it was a good excuse to stay with her tonight.
She frowned, looking uncertain. “All right, but let me know when you leave so I can lock the dead bolt.”
“I can lock it when I leave.”
“How? You don’t have a key.”
He smiled. “I don’t need a key to lock it.” He watched her frown deepen and he could all but hear her thinking. “Trust me, Renee. When I leave, your house will be locked up tight.”
