Protective Custody (4 page)

Nicholas shot her a ferocious frown. A hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, and Carly's palms actually
itched with the sudden impulse to massage the tension from his shoulders.

Get a grip, she ordered herself and curled her traitorous hands into fists. She stepped forward and placed a hand on Nicholas's arm almost before she thought about what she was doing.

Footsteps sounded and Carly jumped back, but not before Nick's frown softened and his eyes glinted with something she wasn't able to put a label on.

Lindsey rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around her uncle's waist. Christopher grabbed a leg and held on. His breathing seemed much better, Carly noticed.

Nicholas placed a hand on each of the children's shoulders and reassured them with pats and hugs. “Everything's fine, kids. Go on up and get in your beds. I know it's going to be almost impossible to sleep, but you try for now.” He shot a pleading look at Debbie. “I know you're not on duty at night, but do you think…”

“I'll take care of them.” Debbie stepped forward and held out her hands. “Come on, Chris, let's go make sure Pepper's all right and give him a big hug.” Christopher eyes brightened, but he still gave one last lingering glance at his uncle before following Debbie to the stairs. “Can I jump on the bed, Debbie?”

The woman gave a low chuckle. “Maybe just a few bounces.”

Lindsey seemed to have found her attitude again and glared at him. “Why don't you just drop the stupid case so we can have our lives back?”

With that parting shot, she turned on her heel, shoving past Debbie and Christopher.

“Lindsey…” Nick's voice trailed off when he realized his niece had no intention of heeding his call. With a sigh, he shut his eyes and stood without moving for several seconds.
Carly knew he was wondering if he should go after her or not, and her heart ached for him.

She offered him her unsolicited advice, keeping her voice low and trying to offer encouragement. “Give her some space. She'll be all right.”

Although why she wanted to make him feel better was beyond her. How many hours had she lain awake thinking about her mentor, Hank, who had been cut down coming out of his granddaughter's ballet recital? How many times had she railed at the heavens for placing a judge on the bench who didn't care that he was releasing a monster back into the world?

And yet…she felt something for him. Her traitorous heart kept wondering if maybe she had things skewed. Maybe she didn't know all the facts about that case.

“I know,” Nick finally said. “She's just had it so rough for so long—and now this.”

A loud thump sounded from upstairs, and Carly started, her hand on her gun. Mason took up guard next to Nick.

“It's just Christopher,” Nick said, holding up a hand to stop her progress.

She paused. “What do you mean?”

A guilty flush started appeared on his face. “Um…he likes to jump on the bed, and I let him…sometimes.”

“That was a pretty loud thump.”

“Yeah, he likes to put his beanbags on the floor and…” Another thump sounded, and Carly flinched.

“…jump from the bed to the beanbags,” she finished for him.

He shrugged. “Yep.”

“Okay. That's good information to have. However—” she looked at Mason “—why don't you go check to make sure?” He nodded and left. Carly paced to the kitchen and
back then shot a glance at Nick. “That's sweet of you to let him do something most parents would yell about.”

Another guilty flush appeared, and he looked away. Inspiration hit her. “You do it, too, don't you?”

He raised a brow, going for the innocent look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, no, you don't, Nicholas Floyd, you don't fool me.” She shook a finger at him. “Not only do you do it, too, I bet you taught him!”

Nick shoved his hands into his pockets, and Carly swore he was hiding a grin. “Well, I…”

Carly crossed her arms and put on her stern look. “Come on, Judge, how do you plead?”

He let out a sigh and the little-boy look on his face tugged at her heartstrings. “Guilty as charged, ma'am.”

Carly felt her heart thaw about ten degrees. She sobered and looked into his eyes, thought about asking him about the murderer he'd let go. No not now, she decided.

Nicholas placed a hand on her arm, and she felt the touch clear to her toes. She turned a questioning look at him, as he said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For not giving me a hard time about not hiding out and leaving the bad guys to you.”

Crossing her arms over her middle, Carly zeroed in on his eyes. “Yeah, about that. We're going to have to have a little heart-to-heart about some of those rules we kind of skipped over earlier.”

N
ick raised a brow. “Let me check on the kids, and then we can talk.” He didn't really need to check on them. He knew Debbie would take good care of them; however, their frightened faces wouldn't leave his mind, and he needed to spend a little time reassuring them.

Carly nodded, and he headed upstairs to find Debbie sitting on the bed with Christopher in her lap. “I'll take it from here.”

Debbie smiled and kissed the top of the boy's head then scooted out from under him. “'Night, Chris.”

“'Night, Debbie.”

Nick placed a hand on her arm and said, “I appreciate your help. But I think it might be best if you went home until all of this is resolved.”

“But Nick…”

“I mean it, Debbie. I don't want you in danger. Tonight just proved that these guys don't care who's around when they come after me. It's not safe.”

She chewed her bottom lip, and her brows dipped in a hesitant frown. She glanced at Christopher then back at Nick. “All right, maybe you're right. I guess—”

“No! No, she can't leave!”

The cry came from the bed as Christopher shot straight up in protest.

Running feet sounded on the steps from outside the room. Nick stepped out of the bedroom and saw Carly at the landing, gun drawn. He waved her down and turned back to Christopher.

Grabbing the little boy up in his arms, he hugged him. Christopher snagged him around the neck and squeezed. “Please don't make her leave, Uncle Nick, please.”

Nick's heart nearly ruptured with a love so intense he had to close his eyes to gain control of his voice. Finally he said, “It's okay, Christopher. I've got you.”

Still keeping his arms looped around his uncle's neck, Christopher pulled back to look into Nick's eyes. “I want Miss Debbie to stay. I need her. She makes me not be so scared.”

“Nick…” Debbie laid a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced up into her beseeching eyes. She licked her lips and said, “Let me stay. The kids have had enough.” She looked at Carly standing in the door and taking in the scene. “We've got protection. The kids need me….”

Nick pulled in a deep breath and shot a glance at Carly. She lifted a brow and gave a shrug as though to say it was up to him.

Debbie said, “And anyway, if they knew enough to find the generator, they probably know that I'm the nanny. They probably know a lot more than we think. What if they've been watching…” She paused and drew in a deep breath, her eyes cutting to the children. “If I leave, will they come after me even though I wouldn't technically be employed here anymore?”

Carly rubbed her nose and looked at Nick. He blinked. “That's a good question. What do you think, Carly?”

“I think she's probably right. Her safest place might just be right here.”

Christopher relaxed against him. “Then she's staying, right?”

Nick kissed the freckled cheek. “Yeah, little man, it looks like she's staying.”

“Good. I can go to sleep now.”

Nicholas tucked the child in and escorted the two ladies from the room. Once back downstairs, he looked at Carly and said, “The only way to stop these people is not to give in to them. If I hand this case over to Debbie's father, I'm just going to be passing the danger on to him. Or anyone else who takes it.”

“But it would take the danger off the kids, Nick. My dad isn't afraid. He'd do it for your kids.” Debbie's soft voice penetrated his muddled thoughts.

“They're not after the kids. They're after me.”

“What if the kids get caught in the crossfire?” Debbie persisted. Carly stayed quiet, and he couldn't tell what she thought.

Maybe Debbie was right. Even though the children hadn't been openly threatened, who knew if that would change?

“What if I sent them away? Somewhere safe?”

Carly frowned at him. “Where would you send them?”

Before he could answer, a low voice said, “No. I don't want to be sent anywhere.”

Nick closed his eyes then opened them and turned to see Lindsey standing on the top stair, staring down at them. Her attitude was gone. In its place was a scared little girl. Lower lip trembling, she begged, “Don't send us away, Uncle Nick. We'll be safe with you.”

Nick bit back a groan and resisted the urge to grab his
hair in both fists. What to do? Usually, decisions came easily to him. But this…the safety of the kids, the integrity of the case…

What should he do?

“I don't think it would help to send them away,” Carly said. “There's no guarantee they wouldn't be followed or tracked down.” She shook her head. “No, it's best they stay here where we can keep an eye on them. Besides—” she lowered her voice “—you and Debbie are their security right now. I don't think it would be a good idea to take that away. Like you said, you're the target, not them.”

Nick breathed a sigh of relief, and Lindsey shot Carly a grateful look.

He hated to admit he hadn't wanted to be the one to make the decision. Uproot them and send them away and disrupt their young lives once more—even more so than having two U.S. Marshals move in—and have danger track them down. Or keep them here where danger might be just around the corner.

No, not a decision he was comfortable with either way.

He said, “If you can keep them safe, I'd prefer they stay here.”

She looked him in the eye. “Whoever is after you will have to go through me to get to them.”

Nicholas wasn't surprised at Carly's calm declaration. No, he was startled by his own reaction—that if it came down to her being in the line of fire, he'd make sure he was around to get her out of the way.

 

That settled, Carly swept past everyone and into the nearest bathroom off the kitchen. She fought the swirl of nausea in the pit of her stomach and gripped the sides of the sink.

She'd just promised to keep Lindsey and Christopher safe, and she had no idea who had just breached their defenses. Who? How? And what was she going to do about it?

She wanted to pray, ask for guidance, strength and protection, and yet she no longer felt that God was a resource for her. After Hank, her partner, mentor and friend, had been killed so senselessly, she'd thrown her hands up and told God she was done with Him because He never seemed to intervene when it was most needed. So why bother with Him?

“Why bother?” she whispered.

Turning on the cold water, she cupped her hands and splashed her face. Using the lightly scented hand towel, she dried off and stared at herself in the mirror. “You can do this,” she whispered. “You don't need God or anyone else. This is your job. You're good at it. So do it.” She narrowed her eyes. “And no romantic feelings for the judge, got it?”

Unfortunately, she didn't think her heart was listening.

The knock on the door startled her, and she called, “Be right there.”

With one more look in the mirror, she decided she was presentable. She opened the door to find her partner on the phone. He hung up and asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

Curiosity lit his eyes, and for a moment she thought he was going to ask more questions, but he didn't, just shrugged and motioned her out of the bathroom.

“Is everything okay?” Nick asked from the doorway of the kitchen.

Carly forced a smile. “Everything's fine. Are you ready to go over some of those rules?”

“Sure.” He gestured to one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Mason said, “While you two do that, I'm going to patrol the grounds one more time.”

He left, and Carly sat on the cushioned seat. She leaned back into the wood slats that made up the back of the chair. “First of all, are the kids asleep?”

“Yes, from what I can tell. Debbie said she'd keep an eye on them for the next hour or so.”

“Okay, I'm thinking it might be a good idea to keep them home from school until all this is over.”

Nick frowned. “Don't you have two other marshals on them?”

“Yes, Maria and Grady.”

He shook his head and reached up to rub a hand across his lips as he thought. “No, as long as it's safe, they need the consistency. I'll drive them to school tomorrow, and Maria and Grady can stay on them like flypaper.”

“Uh, I hate to tell you this, but you won't be driving anyone anywhere.”

“Fine, you can, but I'm going with them.”

“Nick, stop and think a minute….”

He lasered her with an unwavering stare. “I mean it. They'd go nuts around here with nothing to do but worry about whether or not someone is going to kill me. They're not the targets—I am.” He thought for a moment. “If they're separate from me, they may be safe, right?”

“Yes. That's why sending them away would be a good thing in that sense. Yet Lindsey's reaction to that suggestion was very strong. Until it becomes a matter of us feeling unable to keep them safe in your presence, then…”

He blew out a sigh and looked at the ceiling. “All right. I'll agree to riding behind in a separate car, but I want to
see them safely delivered. Plus, I need to have a few words with their teachers.”

She wasn't going to change his mind. She'd convince him later that he didn't need to talk to the teachers. The marshals would take care of that. For now, she let the subject drop instead of arguing with the man.

Stubborn man. Likeable man. Strangely admirable man. Her brain flashed a yellow caution sign. Was that respect she was feeling for him? But what about Hank's killer? The one he'd set free….

Emotions twisting inside her like a balloon in a windstorm, she bit her lip. She sighed. “Fine. Then I'll be driving.”

He gave her a gentle smile. “I figured.”

Her heart stuttered in response, and she cleared her throat and debated whether or not to say what she was thinking.

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

A flush started at the base of her neck. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks then decided to be honest. “I'm…torn. On the one hand, it's good to see you again, Nick. Then again, it's not. Two years ago, I thought I'd made a friend in you. I respected you. Then when you let Hank's killer off on a technicality… I have to admit, I'm struggling with that one.”

Nicholas sat back, stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. He looked down at the table then back up to meet her eyes. “I wondered when you'd feel like talking about it.”

“I don't really feel like it, but maybe we should.”

He reached over and grasped her hand in his. Almost absently, he twined his fingers through hers. Bolts of awareness shot through her, and she swallowed hard. Why was she so attracted to this man? She didn't remember this
feeling from two years ago. Of course, he had been married then… She would never let herself have any feelings toward a married man. Now, however, it seemed there was some kind of pull between them.

He was saying, “It wasn't something I wanted to do, Carly. You have to know that. When Ritchie Hardin appeared in my court that first time for armed robbery, I was ready to put him away for a long time. But his lawyer had irrefutable evidence that the police had messed up the case. I didn't want to let Hardin go, but my hands were tied.”

With a finger on her free hand, she tapped her forehead. “I think I know that here.” She moved her finger to touch the area above her heart. “It's here that's having the trouble. Hank taught me so much about being a good marshal, it just tears me up inside that he died because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She shook her head. “If he just hadn't walked into that store the day you released Hardin, Hardin wouldn't have been able to follow him to his granddaughter's ballet recital…” She blew out a breath. “It's just wrong.” She palmed a tear, then looked away to compose herself.

He nodded then offered a small sad smile. “I know. I agree with you.” A moment of silence, then, “For the record, it's good to see you again, too. I've often thought of our late-night chats from two years ago.”

“Really?” That surprised her. She would have thought he'd have been relieved to be rid of her. He hadn't been keen on the idea of protection in the first place. His wife had practically disappeared into the bedroom while she and Mason had been in their house.

“Absolutely,” he said. “I'm sure you could tell my marriage wasn't exactly…um…perfect.”

Uncomfortable, wondering where he was going with
this line of conversation, Carly shifted. But didn't pull her hand from his. And he didn't let it go. “Yeah, I kind of got that feeling.”

“We'd been fighting for days. You see, Miriam desperately wanted a child. And we just couldn't get pregnant in spite of doing everything medically possible. I told her I was done with doctors and treatments and wanted to talk about adoption. She was furious, wouldn't listen to a word I had to say. She finally decided on the silent treatment a couple of hours before your arrival.”

“I'm sorry.” So that explained his wife's disappearing act.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Me, too. As for letting a killer go, I did what I had to do. The officer in charge of the case was lax.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed at her. “He let there be a possibility of tainted evidence. I didn't want to let Richie Hardin go. I did everything short of planting evidence myself to keep him behind bars, where I knew he belonged. Please believe me, but—”

A flicker from beyond the kitchen window caught her attention, and she straightened. “What was that?”

“What?”

Ignoring his sudden tension, she freed her hand from his and got on the radio. “Mason, did you see that?”

Her partner's voice came into her ear loud and clear. “See what?”

“There was a light, a flash of something outside the kitchen on the south side.”