Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence (3 page)

“I'll do my best to get them settled.” Virginia sighed. “But you know how things get when they're up after bedtime.”

She did, and it was never good.

“Thanks, Virginia. I'll fill you in on things when you're done.”

“With the way this crew is, I may never be done.” She took Juan from her arms. “Come on, sweetie. Time to go back to bed. The rest of you, too. Tomorrow is Sunday, and we've got to be up early for church.”

“I hate church,” Destiny griped, snagging a cookie from a jar on the counter and shoving it into her mouth. A small chunk fell to the floor and landed near Glory. The dog didn't even drop her eyes. She was staring at Gavin as if the sun and moon rose and set on his command.

“I don't hate church,” Tommy said with a scowl. “God is good, and church is good.” At seven years old, he was way too serious for his age, years of neglect and abuse causing him to sink into himself and hide from the world.

“I'm glad you feel that way, Tommy,” Cassie said gently, touching the little boy's shoulder. “Now, you go on to bed. I'll be up in a few minutes to check under your bed.”

“And in the closet, too, Cassie. That's where the bad guys like to hide the most.” He looked up at her, his eyes wide and solemn.

“I'll check in your closet, too. And, in your book bag and in your church shoes.”

“Bad guys can't fit in shoes,” he responded, not even a hint of a smile curving his mouth.

“You're right, but I'll check, anyway. Now—” she gave him a gentle nudge toward the doorway “—go on. To bed.”

He shuffled away, his dark hair falling over sea-green eyes, his flannel pajamas bagging around his narrow frame. He didn't say a lot. He'd come from a family where right words and wrong words, right actions and wrong ones all led to a harsh word, a slap, a punch or a kick. Even after seven months of living in a safe environment, he still scurried around at the edge of the action, tiptoed through the rooms to avoid being noticed, sat still as a statue while everyone else talked and giggled.

“You didn't ask any of them about the mitten,” Gavin said as she filled the teapot, set it to boil. She didn't want tea, but she needed something to do with her hands.

“I know.”

“I guess you have a reason for that?”

“My kids are...vulnerable. I don't want them to think they're being accused of something.”

“I get it.” He sighed. “More than you might imagine, but we don't have time to worry about your kids' sensitivities.”

“I know, and I know you need a witness, but—”

“I want a witness,” he said, cutting her off. “But I'm more concerned with keeping your kids safe.”

“I'll talk to them.” She crossed the room, would have walked out into the hall, but one of the officers stopped her.

“Ma'am, we'd like to ask you a few questions before you do that.”

She tensed. She'd spent too many years being on the wrong side of crime-busting efforts, too many nights being pulled out of bed so the police could search her room for whatever narcotics her grandmother was suspected of selling. “About?”

“The incident on the back porch,” the older of the two responded, his dark brown gaze shifting to Gavin. “Unless you're stepping in on this, Captain?”

* * *

Gavin wasn't stepping in. He wasn't leaving, either. He had questions, and someone at All Our Kids had answers. He needed to find out who. Aside from Juan Gomez, it could have been any of the children he'd seen in the kitchen.

Juan...

His mother Rosa Gomez had been Harland's housekeeper. She'd been found at the bottom of a cliff in President's Park two days ago. DC police were investigating.

Three deaths connected to the same family?

It seemed a stretch to think it was coincidence.

He'd have to bring it up to the team. First, he had to interview Cassie's kids. He understood her need to protect them, he even admired it, but he wasn't going to let it get in the way his job.

“It's all yours,” he responded, his focus on Cassie.

She looked scared, but she also looked determined.

Hopefully that determination wasn't going to be a problem. He didn't want to waste time fighting her for access to the kids.

The officer nodded. Just like Dane Winthrop, Paul Anderson was someone Gavin had worked with during his days with the DC police force. Serious and hardworking, he had a reputation for following leads to the end, never giving up, never backing down. “Looks like you've got quite a bruise on your cheek,” he said, and Cassie touched the swollen spot.

“Yeah. The guy with the knife wasn't real happy to see me.”

“Guy with a knife?” Paul asked. “Ms. Johnson didn't mention that.”

“Virginia didn't know about him,” Cassie explained quickly, giving Paul the same story she'd given Gavin. That was good. Her memories seemed clear, the details she offered matching the ones she'd provided before.

When she finished, Paul opened the door that led onto the back porch. “You say you heard him?”

“I heard a thump. I thought it was one of the kids playing around.” She frowned. Probably remembering that one of them had wandered to Harland's property and possibly witnessed a murder.

“Is that why you didn't call the police before you went outside?” Paul's partner asked. Young with dark hair and an almost too-pretty face, he looked like a rookie who was desperate to prove his merit. “Because it seems to me—”

“Yes.” She cut him off. “That's why.”

She followed Paul outside, her dark red hair spilling down her back, bits of pine needle and dead leaves sticking out of it. She was still barefoot, the cuffs of her jeans dragging the floor, her dusty toes peeking out from under them.

“It still smells like gasoline out here,” she commented.

Gavin didn't know who she was directing it at, but he doubted anyone needed it pointed out. The acrid scent stung his nose, made his eyes water.

He crouched. The fumes were thicker there, the scent so strong, he could have lit a match and caused an explosion.

“We need to get a hazmat crew out here,” he said.

“You want to call that in, Shane?” Paul said to his partner. “And walk around to the front? See if there's gasoline anywhere else. Looks like someone was trying to burn the place down.”

It's what Gavin had been afraid of, and he wasn't surprised to have it confirmed.

“Who would do something like that? Kill a bunch of children?” Cassie whispered, her freckles standing out against pale skin.

“Someone who would kill a well-known and well-liked attorney,” he responded. “Someone who wanted to protect his identity and stay out of jail. Someone who saw a child running away from the crime scene, but likely didn't get a good enough look to know which child it was.”

“You think this is connected to the murder at the congressman's place?” Paul asked.

“We found a mitten near the scene. It belongs to one of the kids who live here,” he responded, scanning the empty yard. Beside him, Glory paced restlessly.

“So the guy thought he'd kill them all?” Paul shook his head. “Every time I think I've seen it all, I'm proven wrong. You got a good look at the guy?” he asked Cassie.

“Yes,” she responded.

“Think you could identify him if you saw him again?”

She nodded, her face so pale, Gavin thought she might pass out.

“Maybe you should go back inside, Cassie. Get some tea, sit down,” he suggested. He needed her focused and calm. Not panicked...or unconscious.

“And give the guy more time to get away? I'd rather help hunt him down.”

“Your time would be better spent giving us a good description,” Paul said.

“I'll take Glory out after we get you back inside,” Gavin cut in.

“I'm fine,” she insisted, stepping to the edge of the porch and pointing to the east. “That's the direction I ran. He wasn't far behind me. Your dog can probably—”

“Cassie,” he interrupted. “I appreciate your help, but the guy could still be hanging out in the woods. If he's the same guy who shot Michael and Harland, he has a gun. It wouldn't be that hard for him to take a potshot from those trees.”

“If you're trying to scare me,” she said. “You've succeeded.”

“All I'm trying to do is—”

“Keep me safe?” She walked inside, moving deeper into the kitchen.

He followed, wanting to remind her a dozen times that she was in danger and that she needed to play by his rules. She knew it, though. There was no sense beating her over the head with it. “Yes.”

“Thanks.” Cassie shivered, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs. The bruise on her cheek looked darker, her oversize pink sweater and bare feet making her look young and vulnerable. “But, I'm pretty good at keeping myself safe.” She brushed a hand over her hair, frowned as she pulled a few leaves out of the wild curls.

“Not from this kind of creep,” Paul said as he stepped inside. “You saw him. He's going to want to take you out. You're going to need more than yourself to stay safe.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” she responded, tapping her fingers on the table. She had short nails. No polish. It looked as though she'd gotten a couple of cuts and scrapes climbing out of Glory's reach. Gavin was tempted to tell her she should wash the wounds out, put some bandages on.

“Can you give me a description of the perp?” he asked instead. He needed to get out into the woods, see if he and Glory could track the guy.

“Blond, short hair. Kind of a military cut. Not very tall. Lots of muscle, though.” She shivered and Gavin shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it around her shoulders.

“I think you're going to need this more than I do,” she said, but she made no move to remove it. Just scratched at a spot on the tabletop, her brow furrowed. “He was wearing black. Pants. Shirt. I'm not sure about his shoes.”

“Eye color?” Paul interrupted.

“Blue. And his face...” She shook her head. “He looked dead inside.”

Glory shifted, the movement subtle, her head turning toward the still-open door. Beyond it, Gavin could see the porch, the yard, a glimpse of the woods beyond.

Glory sniffed at the air, the fur on her scruff standing on end. She growled, the deep low grumbling making the room go silent.

“She see something?” Paul asked.

“Looks like it.” He walked to the open door, scanned the tree line at the far edge of the property. As far as he could see, there was nothing lurking in the thick shadows there. He trusted Glory, though. The dog had good instincts, a great nose, and eyes that were a hundred times better than Gavin's.

“Better close the door after I leave and keep Cassie away from the windows,” he said as he walked outside.

He waited just long enough to hear the bolt slide home before he gave Glory the command she'd been waiting for. The shepherd sprang into action, lunging off the porch and racing toward the tree line, Gavin sprinting behind her.

THREE

G
avin pulled Glory to a stop at the edge of the woods, the beam of his flashlight bobbing along dry earth. Dark trees jutted up from ground covered with a winter's worth of dead leaves. A half mile in, a small tributary meandered through the thick forest. Usually, the Royal River was nothing more than a creek that flowed across the congressman's land. The winter had been brutal, though, and melting snow had probably turned it into a rapidly flowing stream.

“Hopefully, our guy didn't have a raft or boat with him,” he muttered. “If he did, we may lose the trail there.”

Glory's ears perked up, but she kept her head down, nose snuffling dead leaves and earth.

She'd pick up the scent again. Gavin trusted her to do that as much as he trusted the German shepherd to do the job she'd been trained for. Not search and rescue. Protection. Together, they'd been assigned more than one case that involved protecting high-level political figures.

Tonight, they hadn't been able to protect Michael and Harland. They would find the gunman, though, and they'd protect Cassie and her kids. There was no other option. “Gavin!” someone called.

Gavin turned, caught sight of Chase Zachary hurrying toward him. Chase hadn't been working with the Capitol K-9 Unit for long, but there was no doubt he belonged. A former Secret Service agent, he worked hard and knew the ropes. His Belgian Malinois Valor knew them, too. The dog moved beside Chase, ears alert, body tense.

“Glad you're here. There's been an incident at All Our Kids,” Gavin said, turning his attention back to Glory, who'd found the trail again and was moving through thick foliage and deeper into the trees.

“I heard the call come in while I was on the road searching for your perp. Adam and Brooke are still at the crime scene working with the DC police.”

That was fine with Gavin. Adam Donovan and Brooke Clark would keep things flowing smoothly. Veteran members of the K-9 Unit Team, they'd have no trouble cooperating with the police.

“Good. Any sign of a vehicle on the road?”

“No vehicle. No perp. There is something, though. It was found at the crime scene.”

That caught Gavin's attention, made his pulse jump. “What?”

“I saw a gold pendant about fifty feet away from where Michael's body was discovered. It looked like it had been kicked under some leaves. The thing was clean as a whistle. No dirt embedded in it. Nothing to indicate it had been lying there for any length of time.”

“There's more to it than that, right?” Because Gavin knew Chase. The guy was clear thinking and had spot-on instincts. No way would he have come looking for Gavin if there wasn't something compelling about the find. “I know who the pendant belongs to.”

There it was.

The missing piece to the puzzle.

Gavin met Chase's eyes. “Who?”

“Michael's girlfriend.”

“Erin Eagleton? You're sure about that?” Gavin pushed through a thick stand of evergreens, the loamy scent of damp earth filling his nose. Glory was ten feet ahead, working the trail, her head down, tail up, ears alert. She'd found what she wanted, and she was going to keep chasing it until it led to the prize.

“Would I be telling you if I wasn't? It's an unusual pendant. A starfish with the initials E.E. engraved in it.”

“There are plenty of people in this world with those initials.”

“How many of them are dating a guy who just turned up dead?”

“We can't make assumptions, Chase. You know that. We can look for DNA on the locket, we can ask Erin if it belongs to her—”

“It's hers.”

He sounded certain, so certain that Gavin wondered just exactly how he could know what kind of pendant a socialite like Erin would have hanging from her neck. She came from money and privilege and, as far as Gavin knew, didn't hang in the same circles as Chase. “I think there's a story here that you need to tell me. How about we skip all the extraneous stuff and get right to the details?”

“Erin and I are...old friends.”

“As in you were dating?” He hoped not. He really did, because that would complicate things.
If
the pendant belonged to Erin and
if
they determined that she'd been at the scene when the murder occurred, a team member who'd had a recent relationship with her might be a problem.

“A long time ago. When we were in high school.”

“Okay.” That wasn't as bad as he'd thought.

“I saw her tonight, though. Near the National Monument. I was working a reported mugging and ran into her there.”

“You're going to tell me she was wearing that pendant, aren't you?” he asked as he picked his way down a steep incline. Glory was just ahead, stopped in her tracks, nose to the ground. She'd lost the scent, and she turned in circles, trying to catch it again.

“Yeah. I am,” Chase responded. “We were in a well-lit area, and I saw it clear as day.”

“What time was that?”

“Ten. A few minutes after.”

“The shooting was called in at 11:30. She'd have had plenty of time to get from the National Monument to Harland's place.”

“That doesn't mean she committed the crime,” Chase shot back.

“No need to get defensive.”

“I'm not getting defensive. I'm stating a fact. Pure and simple. She was at the mansion tonight, but that doesn't mean she pulled the trigger. If she did, Harland would have said as much.”

“Maybe.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Harland didn't see the shooter.” The congressman had been shot in the shoulder and lost plenty of blood, but he'd been lucid when the police had arrived. The first responding officer had traveled in the ambulance with him and conducted an interview on the way to the hospital. Margaret had been given the information he'd obtained, and she'd passed it on to Gavin. No mention of anyone at the mansion except a couple of staff members and Michael. “And he didn't mention Erin being at the mansion tonight.”

“She might have been visiting Michael and left before Harland saw her,” Chase responded.

“Could be.” One way or another, Gavin found it interesting that his coworker felt the need to defend a woman he'd dated over a decade ago. “If that pendant really is hers, we know she was there tonight. We need to find out why and when. We need to know if she saw anything, heard anything. The sooner the better.”

“Want me to question her?”

“I need you out here. I'll send Brooke to her place.”

Somewhere behind them, a branch snapped, the sound discordant in the midnight silence.

Both dogs alerted, their ears twitching, their tails still and straight as they shifted their gazes to the deep woods they'd just come through.

Another branch snapped.

Glory growled.

She knew what she was hearing. Not the stealthy movement of a deer. Someone was in the woods, and whoever it was seemed to be between Gavin and All Our Kids.

That didn't make him happy.

He gestured to Chase. “The suspect might be heading back to the foster home,” he mouthed.

Chase nodded. “What's the plan?”

“Let's separate. Try to hem him in.”

Chase nodded, taking two steps away and melting into the trees. There one minute. Gone the next.

Gavin issued a short quiet command, and Glory took off, moving through trees and foliage with unerring purpose. She had the scent. She was going to find the perpetrator, and the person who'd shot and killed Michael Jeffries was going to be made to pay for it.

* * *

Like Cassie, most of the children staying at All Our Kids didn't trust the police. They'd come from a variety of homes, foster placements and difficult situations, but the one thing they all had in common was a deep-seated distrust of authority. In her three years working as housemother, that seemed to be the one and only overriding theme, the piece of baggage every single one of her kids brought into the home. She spent a lot of time working with the kids to help them overcome that, and each child spent time with counselors and therapists.

That was all well and good, but right at that moment, it didn't matter. In the wee hours of the morning, with darkness pushing against the kitchen window and sleep still fogging their brains, there wasn't one of the seven kids who wanted anything to do with Officer Anderson.

With Virginia upstairs trying to settle Juan back down, Cassie was having to deal with the attitudes, the silences and the tears on her own.

It probably would have been a good idea if a female officer had conducted the interview. Most of the kids responded better to female authority, but Officer Anderson hadn't wanted to waste time bringing someone else in.

She'd warned him, told him it wouldn't be a waste of time if it helped open the mouths of her charges.

He'd insisted on doing things his way.

And, now they were all in the kitchen, the sharp scent of gasoline seeping in from under the back door.

The dead-eyed guy had been trying to burn the house down.

The smell was a constant reminder and a distraction. One Cassie didn't want or need. The Hazmat team would be there eventually. For now, she had to fight to keep from gagging every time she inhaled. She eyed the kids, all of them seated at the oversize table, their eyes sharp, their faces set in an array of scowls. They looked like a mutiny getting ready to happen.

“Your silence doesn't change anything. Someone,” Officer Anderson said, his voice just a little too loud, “was outside of the house tonight. That person needs to own up to it.” He speared each kid with a look meant to melt their defiance.

None of them even blinked.

“Confess to it,” he continued. “Before you find yourself in more trouble.”

“You're not in trouble,” Cassie broke in, knowing full well that threatening the kids wasn't going to help. “You won't be in trouble if you admit you were outside.”

Nothing.

Not a peep from anyone.

There was strength in numbers, the silence of one bolstering the silence of the others. They should have talked to each child individually, but Officer Anderson had wanted to save time. Another mistake on his part. The guy seemed kind enough, but he hadn't wanted to listen to anything Cassie had to say.

Typical
, her childish self whispered. The piece of her that was still the young kid being yanked from her bed every other night, police streaming into her room and demanding that she get up, wanted to tell Officer Anderson that they were done playing twenty questions.

The more mature part, the part that wanted to keep her kids alive, the part that wanted to stay alive with them, knew she needed to keep her mouth shut and let him do his job.

“Right. Sorry. I shouldn't have said trouble. No one is in trouble,” Officer Anderson agreed, his gaze jumping from one child to another. “I just need to know where you were, what you saw.”

“Destiny?” Cassie prodded. She doubted the young girl would have wandered to the congressman's house, but the kid seemed to know everything about everyone in the house. If someone else had left, she'd probably know it.

“What?” Destiny asked, studying her nails like they were way more interesting than Cassie or Officer Anderson.

“Did you hear anyone leave the house tonight?”

“No.”

“You're sure?”

“I was sleeping like a baby until you started screaming, and truth be told, I want to be sleeping again.”

“How about everyone else?” Officer Anderson's asked. Maybe he thought he could read guilt or fear on their faces.

They just kept staring at him like he had two heads.

“Look.” He raked a hand over his hair, paced to the sink and turned to face the kids again. “A blue mitten was found over near the congressman's house. One of you dropped it. You might as well 'fess up.”

“I have blue mittens,” David piped up. “But I wasn't wearing them tonight. They're in my coat pocket.”

“Where's your coat?” Officer Anderson asked.

“I don't know.”

“Son, you don't just misplace a coat. Obviously, you wore it recently. How about you think about it a little more carefully?”

David shrank back, sliding down so low in his chair, Cassie thought he might slip right under the table.

“It should be in the closet,” Cassie offered. “How about you go look for it?”

David scrambled out of the chair and ran from the room. It would only take him a couple of seconds to reach the coat closet. He'd probably take longer. If he came back at all.

“These kids leave the house at night very often?” Officer Anderson asked.

More than she wanted. She'd thought about putting an alarm system in, but too many of the kids had been in homes where there were bars on the windows, security systems, guard dogs. “Occasionally.”

“You ever think of putting in a security system?”

“I've thought about it.”

“You might want to think on it some more. This neighborhood is safe, but that doesn't mean young kids can't get into trouble.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but she wasn't sure she was successful. She'd spent the past three years proving that she could do her job and do it well. Harland had always believed in her, but there were plenty of other people who'd doubted. There were plenty of people who still doubted. Based on Officer Anderson's comment, she'd say he was one of them.

“You want some help with it, I can give you a hand. I have a friend in the security business. He'll put it in for free. Just cost a weekly fee for the security monitoring.”

His offer stole away some of her frustration. He might be going about things in the wrong way, but his heart was in the right place. That was what counted. That was one of the things Ms. Alice had taught her. To look at the heart, to judge according to motive rather than outcome.
Everyone messes up
, she'd always say when Cassie found herself in trouble again
. But, if the heart is right, mistakes can be fixed.