Outrunning Danger, page 14
Marcus was on the phone with the US Marshals’ office and Tucker was sure they were giving him an earful about putting Tara’s life in danger with their failed operation to catch the perp. At least they’d gotten the paper Michael had hidden for Tara with the list of names in Platt’s organization.
It nagged at Tucker that the killer had known where they were headed even before Stella and Cade got to her house with the dog tags. He pondered the report from the fire marshal about the cause of the explosion. If the perp had been tracking Tara, there was no way he would have had time after they’d arrived to break into Mrs. Gray’s side of the duplex, light a candle and turn the gas on, which was what the report indicated.
He rubbed his temples. He’d been trying to remove his emotions from the case and examine it objectively—hard to do given his affection for Tara. Still, it gnawed at him. Every attack since that blue Jeep at the diner had felt personal. It chilled Tucker to the bone to realize that since this maniac was tracking Michael’s dog tags, he could have killed Tara months ago. Why had he waited?
Tucker reached down and scratched Scout behind the ears. “What game is this guy playing, Scout?” His partner wagged his tail, almost as happy to be back on duty as Tucker was to have him back.
Tucker resumed his pacing. The heaviness in his heart weighed him down. He was going to have to let Tara go. It wasn’t fair to her to be saddled with his issues. Every part of his being didn’t want to. How had she gotten so deep under his skin?
The door jerked open, and Marcus stood in the doorway. “Tucker, I saw you pacing through the glass. I’m glad to see Scout with you.” He gestured to one of the plastic chairs in front of his desk.
Tucker sat and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What’s the word?”
“We’re taking her to the airport tomorrow,” Marcus announced.
Tucker’s heart dropped to his stomach. He focused his energy on keeping any emotion off his face. “Do they want me to take her to Virginia?”
The chief shook his head. “There’s a US marshal who will be her escort. Now that we’ve removed the tracking device on the dog tags, they believe it’s safe for her to leave.”
Tucker jumped up. “Then how do they explain that maniac showing up ahead of us in Ivy? This is not a safe move at all.” Tucker paced to the door and back. “Is there anything we can do?”
The chief’s eyes narrowed. “For starters, Officer Dawson, you need to separate your feelings from this case. It’s under the US Marshals’ jurisdiction. I may have erred by allowing you to continue. I didn’t realize the extent of your attachment to her.”
Tucker ground his teeth. “With all due respect, sir, whatever soft spot I may have for her doesn’t have anything to do with this. Am I the only one who’s concerned that the perp arrived in Ivy before we did? Until we figure out who this guy is and how he’s shadowing Tara, her life is still at stake.”
The chief sighed and ran a hand over his bald head. “I explained that to them. They think she’s safer with them. Maybe they’re right. We’ve managed to keep her alive, but barely.”
Tucker shook his head. If his blood pressure climbed any higher, he’d pass out. He took a deep breath.
“Luca’s removed the tracking device,” the chief continued. “We’ll get her to the airport tomorrow, and the marshal can get her to Virginia without incident. She should be in a safe location within the week.”
“I’d like permission to drive her to the airport, Chief,” Tucker stated.
His boss hesitated, chewing at the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know—”
“Sir, she trusts me. We’ve been through a lot together. I’d like to be the one to take her to the airport.” His heart threatened to pound right through his ribs.
A knock sounded at the door, and Cade peeked around the corner. “Marcus, we got the results of the blood we found on the leaves. Nothing.”
The chief huffed out a sigh. “I was hoping it was the perp’s.”
“It was,” Cade replied. “We took a sample from Tara, and it wasn’t a match. She must have nailed him in the nose pretty good. I bet he’s got a heck of a shiner now. Whoever this guy is, he’s nowhere in the database. Once we capture him, that will be more proof that places him at the scene.”
Tucker jerked the ball cap off his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He had the beginnings of a theory. Would they think he was crazy? “I’m going to throw something out there that’s been puzzling me. It may be far-fetched.” Marcus nodded and Tucker continued. “When we got to Tara’s house and saw the chaos, it wasn’t what I expected.”
“How so?” Cade frowned. “Everything was upended. Chairs were knocked over, plants were yanked out of pots and dirt was all over the floor—”
“Yes, but no slashed pillows, no tossed dresser drawers, no toppled books. He didn’t even touch probable places where someone might hide things. Case in point, Tara’s metal treasure box was still under the bed where she kept it. I don’t think the perp was looking for anything. I think he was staging it.”
“Keep going,” Marcus said.
“Whoever did it left the door wide open so it would be noticed. The landlord said he got a call from a neighbor saying the door was ajar and the place looked deserted. Could that have been the perp? I wonder if we ask the landlord if he’ll tell us the neighbor said his name was Mr. Yost.” The more Tucker spoke it out loud, the more sense it made to him. “I think he wanted us to return to the house. This psycho laid the trap for us.”
Cade nodded. “I think Tucker could be right. He set up headquarters at Mr. Yost’s. Once the tracking device showed Tara heading to her house, all he had to do was turn on the gas, light the candle in the duplex and hunker down somewhere and wait.”
Marcus stood up and paced around the desk. “Tucker, is there a chance Tara knows this man? Could she have any connection to Platt’s organization?”
Tucker shook his head. “I don’t think so. I wondered about that at the beginning and even brought it up. She said there’s no connection other than her brother, Michael. I don’t understand why this seems so personal.”
“Agreed,” Cade stated. “It’s like he’s trying to terrorize her.”
“Given the death of Mr. Yost, we know he’s capable of killing someone on the spot. But he’s not doing that with Tara. He’s enjoying the game,” Tucker said. What kind of monster was this?
“That would only make sense if there was an underlying motivation,” Cade said. “Perhaps this is a way of scaring her into not going through with her testimony and the evidence she has against Platt.”
“Not to sound harsh,” Marcus responded, “but if he killed her outright, they wouldn’t have to worry about her testifying. There’s more to it.”
Unease slithered up Tucker’s back. He grabbed Scout’s leash and headed for the door, needing to see Tara to make sure she was okay. “I’ll take Scout back to his kennel, then I’m going to the hospital to give Tara an update. May I inform her I’ll be driving her to the airport, Chief?”
Marcus nodded, but Tucker read the silent warning in his chief’s eyes. The stakes in this case against Gideon Platt were high, and Tucker knew he had to step back and let the US marshals do their job of keeping her safe before, during and after her testimony at the trial. Still, he couldn’t shake the tension that coursed through him. The perp they were dealing with was cunning. Did the marshals understand what they were up against?
“Tucker, wait up!” He turned and saw Cade jogging down the hall to catch up. “I’ll take Scout so you can get going,” he said, reaching for the dog’s leash.
“Thanks.” Tucker handed over the leather leash and paused. “You’re frowning Cade. What’s wrong?”
Cade hesitated and bent over to scratch Scout behind the ears. Tucker paused. His friend and fellow officer didn’t often have a problem expressing himself.
“I hope I’m not overstepping, Tucker. I know you’ve gotten close to Tara. Just don’t lose your objectivity, or your sanity. These federal trials can drag out. It may be a long time before you see her again, assuming she even wants that. It might be better if Stella or I took her to the airport.”
Tucker felt heat crawl up his neck. “I’m fine. I can handle it.” He turned to leave, and Cade reached out and laid a hand on his arm.
“Are you sure?” Cade asked.
Tucker stopped and turned around. What was with Cade? Where was this coming from?
“Don’t lose your edge, Tucker. That old saying, ‘you can’t see the forest for the trees,’ rings true here, my friend. You need to step back. And that may mean stepping away from Tara.”
“Nothing’s clouding my vision, Cade,” Tucker said, struggling to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
“I know you’re not big into praying anymore and I understand why,” Cade said. “But we’ve been attacked from all angles in this case. It’s hard to keep a clear head, especially when your heart is involved. Bring God into your decisions. He can help you see the big picture. We all need godly insight right now if we’re going to get Tara to safety.”
Tucker let out a long, slow sigh. “I’ve been getting the same message from Tara. It’s just been a while.”
“It’s never too late,” Cade said, and clapped him on the shoulder. Tucker nodded, staring after his friend as he led Scout down the hall.
Sixteen
Tara glanced once more at the time on her phone. From the minute Tucker had called and said he was smuggling a pizza into her hospital room, her stomach had started growling.
There had been no word from anyone about when she’d be leaving, but she had her few possessions packed in a duffel bag Stella had given her and had been dressed and ready to go for hours. Tara hoped Tucker had good news for her, but she was torn. Would he be able to go with her to Virginia?
She’d woken up this morning to him snoring softly in the chair beside her bed. He hadn’t left her all night, even though there was an officer stationed outside her room. When she’d objected and said he should go home and get some sleep, he’d said “Turnabout.” Since she’d spent the night in a chair in his hospital room, it was only fair he did the same. Deep down she was relieved. To take her mind off the unknown she’d be facing in the next few days, they’d played double solitaire until she’d started to nod off. Tara sighed. Was he as attached to her as she was to him?
There was a light tap on the door and her heart jumped. “Come in.”
A large pizza box materialized around the door followed by Tucker sporting a bandaged forearm and wearing a big grin on his face.
“What happened to your arm?”
“That gash, courtesy of your metal treasure box, needed stitches. Against my wishes.” He grimaced. “Nothing a Band-Aid wouldn’t fix.”
“Such a tough guy,” she chuckled.
“You should have seen the people I had to fend off getting here. Seems everyone wanted pizza instead of their hospital dinner.” He placed the pizza on the tray table and reached into a plastic bag for paper plates, napkins and bottles of water.
Tara sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring the throbbing in her ribs, and scooched over to make room for Tucker to sit next to her. He opened the lid and pizza smells mingled in the air. A groan escaped her lips. She started to reach for a slice, and he placed a hand on her arm and handed her a water bottle.
“First, a toast.” He smiled.
He was adorable. “I’ll play along. What are we toasting?”
“To your long life, Tara Piper, and to your safety. And to friendship.”
He tapped his water bottle against hers and smiled. Tara took a long sip of the cool water and came face-to-face with the fact that she didn’t just want to be his friend. She wanted more. Much more.
The situation she was in took precedence over what she wanted, though. She could help bring Gideon Platt down and stop huge shipments of illegal guns from being transported around the country. There would be justice for Michael. But her heart ached.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tucker leaned in close, frown lines creasing his forehead.
“Nothing,” she said, concentrating on keeping a smile on her face. “I think I’m just hungry.”
“Then here you go,” he said, placing a large slice of pizza on a plate and handing it to her.
The spongy crust was topped with tomato sauce, cheese and pepperoni, and her taste buds danced. The hospital food had been unappealing and she’d had no appetite for it. How long had it been since she’d eaten?
“I’m glad you have your appetite back,” Tucker said between bites.
“This is delicious,” she said, wiping a bit of sauce from her chin with a napkin. “I may go for a second piece.”
Tucker reached into the box and handed her another slice.
Tara took a big bite, working up her courage. “So, any news on my departure?”
Tucker grabbed a napkin and wiped his hands, then turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “A marshal will be taking you to Virginia tomorrow.”
Tara’s stomach went topsy-turvy. “Will you be coming with me?” The question popped out before she could stop it.
Tucker stood and gathered up the plates. He closed the pizza box and set it on a side table. “Leftovers for later if you want,” he said over his shoulder.
“You’re stalling, Tucker.”
He walked over to her and grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet. “I’ll be driving you to the airport.” Her heart pounded. This wasn’t starting out the way she wanted. “I doubt the marshal will want me to assist him in getting you there.”
“But what about what I want? What if I need you there?” She bit the inside of her lip. She wanted to cry. She’d given up her whole life to get justice for Michael and take down Platt. Did she have to give up Tucker as well?
“Tara,” Tucker said, warmth shining in his eyes, “you are the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
She huffed out an impatient breath.
Tucker chuckled. “Yes, you are. That marshal doesn’t know who he’s up against.”
“Yes, but neither do we. How do we know that maniac won’t show up at the airport?” Tara said. She saw a glint of uncertainty flash in Tucker’s eyes. “You’re not sure either.” She jabbed him in the chest with her finger.
“The marshal won’t let anything happen to you, and I’ll be there until you get on the plane.”
Tara smiled at him. “We make a good team. It’s a shame to break us up.” Her eyes connected with his deep blue ones. The air around them buzzed with electricity, and the blood whooshed in her ears. She leaned closer. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she held her breath, waiting.
He shook his head and pulled back, putting distance between them. “It’s going to be hard enough as it is, Tara.” His voice was husky and tight. “I’m not going to make it any harder.”
Harder for who…her or him?
“Maybe I can contact you after the trial?” she said.
He reached out and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “I think it might be better for you to start fresh, leave all of this behind you.” She began to shake her head and he continued. “I have problems I’m dealing with. I’d just weigh you down.”
Tara gasped. It was like a splash of cold water. He could just walk away from her after everything they’d been through? Her heart broke into small pieces.
“You’re right.” Her voice caught and she pulled in a long, slow breath. It was an effort, but she managed to plaster a smile on her face. “Tomorrow’s a big day then. I think I’m going to get an early night. I’ll be fine with Officer Burton outside the door.”
Tucker’s brow creased and doubt shadowed his eyes, but he finally nodded. “Okay, but don’t forget I have my phone on. If you need me, call.”
Tara nodded, letting tears flow as the door closed behind him. He was right. She needed to move on. Put all of this trauma behind her. She’d never intended to fall for him, but God had placed him in her life for a reason. Maybe it was just to get her to safety.
Her cell phone buzzed. Tucker. She picked up on the first ring, giving herself a mental jab. Too eager.
“Look, Tara, I’m not comfortable with not being there tonight.” She heard him taking deep breaths, then the metal clang of a door closing. His footsteps sounded across pavement, and she guessed he must have taken the stairwell to the hospital parking garage. “I’m going to go home and grab a shower, then I’ll be back to stand watch with Officer Burton. Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”
Her heart hammered. Yes, please, she thought. Instead, she said, “That’s kind of you, but you’ve already done enough. I should be fine—”
The crack of gunfire sounded through the phone. Tucker cried out, then silence.
* * *
Tucker heard the blast of gunfire just before a bullet ripped through his ball cap and blew it off his head, singeing his scalp in the process. Adrenaline surged as he dove for cover behind a minivan just as another bullet whistled overhead. It slammed into the metal sign on a concrete pillar behind him and ricocheted into the back windshield of the vehicle, raining a shower of pea-sized safety glass on his already smarting head. He pulled himself up and in a swift movement flicked his hand out from behind the van and back to gauge the shooter’s location. Bullets whizzed by.
He dropped to a crouch, held his breath and flew toward the pickup truck next to him. There was more to hide behind and fewer large windows. The bullets had come from the direction of the far elevator, and he moved around the vehicle until he could look over the bed of the truck toward that general area. He scanned the shadows among the smattering of parked cars, looking for movement. There was nothing, not even the gritty sound of footsteps on concrete.
The humidity in the parking garage was stifling. Sweat dripped into his eyes and he swiped at it, rubbing the moisture off his hands and onto his jeans. A quick visual sweep of the ground confirmed his phone was lying near the minivan, way out of reach.
Another blast of gunfire thundered in the confines of the garage, and he jerked as the bullets slammed into a concrete pillar behind him. He brought his gun up, scanned for innocent bystanders and fired shots toward the elevators. Concrete shrapnel flew from the wall but there was no other sound. Where was this guy? Tucker fired again, the blast reverberating off the walls. Nothing. Without knowing where the shooter was, he was just wasting precious ammo.
