Nightwatch (4 page)

“I have GPS. I'll find it. Just promise you'll both keep your distance when we arrive and let me do all the talking. It's what I'm trained for.”

Jill heard Mitch mumbling to himself as he turned away. She couldn't make out every word but she was pretty sure he was either commenting on the job
he
was trained for or lamenting the loss of his friends. She shuddered.
Murder. Here.
It was unbelievable. This was a nice, peaceful, little country town, not a big city where crime seemed to lurk in every alley and behind every locked door, and to ooze from the very cracks in the sidewalks.

Beginning to climb into Mitch's truck, she stopped in midmotion, one foot inside, one on the ground. An even more dire thought had just occurred to her. Whoever had placed that bomb and started the fatal fire was still out there somewhere. Loose. Dangerous. Perhaps planning another attack. And since there didn't seem to be any motive for harming Rob and Ellen, that meant their next victim might be just as sweet and innocent and well liked as they were.

“You all right?” Mitch asked, frowning and waiting for her to finish sliding into the passenger seat.

“No.” Jill fastened her safety belt, then pulled the jacket of her dress closer and folded her arms to keep
from shaking. “I can't help wondering who's going to be next.”

“Don't borrow trouble. The fire last night was probably an isolated incident.”

She eyed him across the seat, waiting 'til his gaze met hers before she asked, “Do you really believe that?”

It didn't surprise her one bit when he looked her in the eyes and answered bluntly, “No.”

T
he modest, red brick house Natalie Stevens occupied sat by itself at the far end of a cul-de-sac. The blinds were drawn and a folded newspaper lay at the base of the asphalt driveway. A few scraggly daffodils nodded in a narrow flower bed in front of the small, covered porch. Other than that, the place showed little landscaping and even less TLC.

Coming to a stop at the curb behind the social worker's car, Mitch looked at Jill. “Maybe she's not home.”

“She has to be. Ms. Connors said she spoke with her. Remember?”

“That doesn't mean Natalie was here at the time. She could have been on a cell phone.”

Growing more concerned by the second, he climbed out and circled the truck. By the time he reached Jill's door she was already standing there waiting for him.

He started to cup her elbow then thought better of it. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and simply fell into step behind her.

Brenda Connors was retrieving a briefcase from the trunk of her car. She straightened her short, fitted, wool coat as Jill and Mitch joined her. “Let me approach Ms.
Stevens first, one-on-one. But stay available. I'll signal if I need you.”

“If Natalie attacks you, you'll need us for sure,” Mitch said. “She was all over me like a crazy wildcat last night at the fire. I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. If she's hurt those kids, you may have to protect
her
.” He felt Jill's calming touch through his sleeve.

“He doesn't really mean what he says,” she told Ms. Connors. “It's been a long, trying twenty-four hours for all of us. I'm sure everyone will settle down as soon as we've determined where the children will be living, at least for now.”

“Believe it or not, I do understand,” the social worker replied. “I've been doing this job for a long time. There's not much I haven't seen or experienced.” Pausing, she looked pointedly at Mitch. “Just keep reminding yourself that the welfare and happiness of these three minors is our mutual goal. The smoother this transition goes, the better for the children.”

Mitch gritted his teeth and nodded. She was right, of course. It was just that he hated feeling so helpless, so inadequate. He was a hands-on kind of guy. A person who liked to have all his ducks in a row. A man on a mission, if he were totally honest with himself. He felt at least partly responsible for Rob's and Ellen's deaths and he owed their children one hundred percent of his efforts.

Beside him, he sensed Jill's attention so he turned to her. There was tenderness in her expression mixed with something puzzling, something elusive, something compassionate to the point that he wondered if she'd just read his most private thoughts. There was a glim
mer in her eyes that made them sparkle like flower petals sprinkled with drops of morning dew. Of all the previous times he'd seen her, had appreciated her loveliness, she had never looked more appealing.

“It'll work out, Mitch,” she said. “In a few minutes we'll all be on our way to my farm and the kids will be able to relax. There's nothing like petting a dog to calm a person down. Mugsy's passed his socialization exams so he's a fully certified therapy dog. I can even take him on hospital visits with me if I want.”

Mitch had to smile in spite of the tense circumstances. “Now
that
could get interesting. I can picture him tearing up and down hospital corridors at top speed and sliding the corners like a base runner trying to score on a double play.”

To his delight, Jill mirrored his smile. “He's not quite that bad, you know. He may get a little too rambunctious at home but his manners are fine when I take him out.”

“I'll believe that when I see it.” Mitch rolled his eyes. “If that dust mop of a mutt wasn't always on the move, you wouldn't even be able to tell which end was which.”

“You can tell right after I've trimmed the hair around his eyes. It grows back really fast though.”

“Everything about Mugsy is fast,” Mitch quipped. “Half the time he's just a passing blur.”

“True. I wish I had his energy.” Pausing, she sobered. “How are
you
doing today? You must have been up all night.”

“Most of it,” he replied. “I'll rest later. Right now I'm far too keyed up.”

He began to watch the house more closely. Brenda Connors was standing at the open front door, apparently
speaking with someone who remained inside. Since Brenda had not been invited to enter, he had to assume that her reception had not been a cordial one. That was no big surprise. When Natalie was behaving normally she wasn't very friendly. Under the present stressful conditions, Mitch doubted anyone was going to have much success reasoning with her.

Raised female voices carried to them. Mitch glanced at Jill, then back at the porch. His attention was diverted only momentarily, yet he almost missed seeing what happened next.

The screen door abruptly swung open. An arm shot out, palm forward. The thrust caught Brenda Connors in the upper chest area and shoved her backward so hard she staggered. For an instant he was afraid the middle-aged woman was going to topple off the porch.

Mitch began to run toward the house with Jill in pursuit. The door slammed with a noisy bang before he got there but he took the front steps two at a time just the same and confronted Ms. Connors while he steadied her. “What just happened?”

“She refused to admit me. I'm calling the police.”

“The kids! Did you see the kids?”

“No.”

“What about Natalie? How was she acting? Was she raving the way she did last night?”

The gray eyebrows arched and her eyes widened behind her bifocals as the social worker nodded. “I don't know what she was like when she attacked you, but she just scared the stuffing out of me.”

Mitch didn't wait for further discussion. Wheeling, he almost collided with Jill as he left the porch and started to rapidly circle the modest, single-story dwell
ing. He'd never been to the house before and had no idea how he was going to get to those children. He only knew that he was going to do it. No matter what.

 

Jill didn't need any verbal clues to figure out what Mitch was up to. She'd known him long enough to be certain he was going to act, regardless of what Ms. Connors had said. In this instance she couldn't fault him, either. As a matter of fact, she intended to help.

Stepping past the frustrated, trembling older woman, Jill yanked open the screen, made a fist and began pounding on the hollow front door. The way she saw the situation, the more distraction she could provide, the better Mitch's chances were of reaching the Pearson children unobserved and spiriting them out of harm's way.

Was that legal? She doubted it. Nevertheless, she stood behind his actions with all her heart. There had been many times in her younger years when she had prayed for a champion, a knight in shining armor who would ride to her rescue as if she were a princess being held prisoner in a castle tower. Seeing Mitch playing that part for the sake of helpless little ones who were likely in danger of emotional, if not physical, abuse warmed her heart in ways she could hardly fathom.

“Open this door!” Jill shouted, continuing to bang on it. “Let us in this minute. Natalie? Do you hear me? I said open the door.”

Behind her, Ms. Connors was covering one ear and practically shouting into her cell phone.

Jill made no effort to quiet her demands for the other woman's sake. On the contrary, she redoubled her assault.

Both her fists pounded until the wooden door rattled in its frame. “Open up! You have no right to keep us out. This lady is only doing her job.”

Brenda grasped Jill's left arm. “Stop that. You're only making things worse.”

“Leave me alone. I know what I'm doing.”

“No. Stop. Wait for the police.”

Once again Jill hammered relentlessly. “Did you hear that? The cops are coming,” she yelled. “If you let us in before they get here you won't be in nearly as much trouble.”

“Go away.”

A-ha! Natalie was paying attention to her assault. The plan was working.

Since the unhinged woman was clearly standing right on the opposite side of the locked door, that probably meant she was not watching her nephews and niece closely. Therefore, Mitch had a much greater chance of success.

“We're not going away,” Jill answered loudly. “You might as well let us in.”

“No!” Natalie's reply was a little louder this time, raising Jill's spirits even more.

“Don't be ridiculous. You know you can't win. You can't bully us the way you did those poor people at the hospital. The police will make you open this door.”

There was no immediate reply. Jill's heart began to pound so hard she could feel her pulse in her temples.

“Natalie?”

Still no answer came.

“Natalie Stevens,” she screeched. “You get out here
and talk to me, you hear? I can help you. I will. I promise. Natalie? Natalie?” Her voice rose even higher and she drew out the name. “Nat-a-lie!”

 

Trying the rear door, Mitch was thrilled to find that it wasn't locked. He knew he was overstepping by going into the house uninvited in the first place and wasn't keen on adding forced entry to the charges he would likely face.

Nevertheless, nothing was going to stop him. Not at this point. The only thing that really mattered was reaching Tim, Paul and Megan.

Hesitating, he heard Jill raising a ruckus at the front of the house. Since she was not normally that outspoken he had to assume she was doing it for his sake. Funny how she seemed to understand so much without his having to explain.

There were only two ways in and out of the kitchen where he now stood—back the way he'd come or down the hallway. Taking a chance that Natalie had at least given the children a bedroom in which to sleep and play, he headed down the deserted hall.

The first door he came to showed an unmade bed and adult-size clothing scattered on the floor and chair but no sign of the youngsters.

The door to the second room was closed.

Mitch eased it open.

Tim recognized him instantly and flew into his arms. “Uncle Mitch!”

Paul followed his brother's lead while Megan remained asleep on one of the twin beds.

Holding tight to the sniffling boys, Mitch straight
ened, closed his eyes and choked back his own emotional reaction. “It's okay, guys. Don't worry. I've gotcha.”

Tim took a shuddering breath. “Aunt—Aunt Natalie said we had to live with her now. She said…she said she was going to be our new mother.”

Mitch's gut clenched.
How had she known they were orphaned?
He'd only heard the official confirmation himself an hour or so ago. He supposed she must have assumed the worst, given the destruction from the fire and all, but there was still no excuse for breaking it to the boys as bluntly as she had.

“Nothing is settled,” Mitch said, giving the children a hug before lowering them to the floor. “Right now, we need to go. Do either of you have shoes?”

“Uh-uh. We got these dumb clothes at the hospital. I want my superhero shirt.”

With his lower lip trembling, Paul agreed with his big brother. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“Sorry, guys. First things first.”

Mitch quickly approached the sleeping toddler and folded a blanket around her. Megan barely stirred as he picked her up. “Okay, boys, time to go. Be quiet now, you hear? We're going to leave by the back door.”

“We're sneaking out?” Timmy whispered, his reddened eyes widening as he swiped the back of his wrist across his upper lip and sniffled noisily. “Way cool.”

“Yeah, cool,” Paul echoed.

“Not if your aunt catches us. Be very quiet.”

Mitch halted at the bedroom doorway and looked toward the kitchen. So far, so good.

He also listened intently, fully expecting to hear Jill
and Natalie shouting at each other as they had been moments before.

The silence was so unexpected it made him shiver. That was definitely not a good sign. If Jill wasn't hollering that meant she'd either been stopped or had, for some reason, decided it was unnecessary to continue.

Either way he was in a pickle. If Natalie was no longer guarding the front door, where was she?

 

Jill began to tiptoe through the dry, patchy grass, peering in the side windows as she came around the house. There wasn't much opportunity to see in except where the blinds left slight gaps at the edges of the window frames. If she hadn't known otherwise she would have thought the house was deserted.

She turned the final corner and spied a small, square rear porch. There were only two steps to climb and she did so very cautiously. Her hand was on the knob, ready to open the door, when she heard a primal scream that reminded her of a nature show about African lions that she'd recently watched on TV. Shivers zigzagged up her spine and lifted the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.

Easing the door open a crack she peeked inside. Her breath caught. She covered her mouth with her free hand to keep from gasping aloud at the scene before her.

Natalie Stevens was standing with her back to the exterior door—and to Jill—facing Mitch and the three children he'd come to rescue. They were clustered in another doorway, apparently about to try to make their escape, and Natalie stood between them and freedom.

Lifting her index finger and laying it across her lips, Jill signaled Mitch. With an almost imperceptible
nod he acknowledged her. She could tell his mind was racing, trying to decide what to do next, and she'd have felt a lot better about it if he hadn't looked as though he was furious—with
her
.

Well, too bad. Jill wasn't particularly eager to face the other woman's irrational anger either, but she saw no options. Unless someone distracted Natalie and got her out of the way, Mitch and the children wouldn't be able to safely pass. If he truly was mad at her for helping, they'd settle that later.