Forced to Hide, page 1
Tucking Adele into his side, Brian placed his hand on his weapon.
“Back inside—now.”
The driver’s side window lowered, a black muzzle appeared and the driver fired. The loud retort echoed off the stone walls. Adele gasped. Heart jolting, Brian shoved her toward the safety of the glass doors and was gratified she didn’t hesitate to run.
Pulling his weapon free, Brian returned fire, hitting the sedan and shattering the front windshield. The car reversed, spun 180 degrees, swiping the end of a luxury coupe, and shot forward, disappearing as it sped out of the parking garage.
“Brian?”
He turned to find Adele standing in the hospital doorway, her topaz eyes wide with shock.
Moving swiftly to her side, he ushered her farther into the hospital. She trembled beneath his hand.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Someone tried to kill you. Again.”
Terri Reed’s romance and romantic suspense novels have appeared on the Publishers Weekly top twenty-five and NPD BookScan top one hundred lists and have been featured in USA TODAY, Christian Fiction magazine and RT Book Reviews. Her books have been finalists for the Romance Writers of America RITA® Award and the National Readers’ Choice Award and finalists three times for the American Christian Fiction Writers Carol Award. Contact Terri at terrireed.com or PO Box 19555, Portland, OR 97224.
Books by Terri Reed
Love Inspired Suspense
Buried Mountain Secrets
Secret Mountain Hideout
Christmas Protection Detail
Secret Sabotage
Forced to Flee
Forced to Hide
Rocky Mountain K-9 Unit
Detection Detail
Alaska K-9 Unit
Alaskan Rescue
True Blue K-9 Unit: Brooklyn
Explosive Situation
True Blue K-9 Unit
Seeking the Truth
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
Forced to Hide
Terri Reed
In God I will praise his word, in God I have put my trust; I will not fear what flesh can do unto me.
—Psalm 56:4
To my son—you are a joy, a man of honor and integrity. I love you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Kidnapped in Texas by Virginia Vaughan
ONE
“All rise.” The bailiff’s voice rang clear through the high ceilings of the courtroom and bounced off the wood paneling. “The federal district court of the great State of Texas is in session. The Honorable Judge Adele Weston presiding.”
Adele hesitated a fraction of a second before entering the courtroom through the open doorway of the judge’s chamber. A ripple of disquiet cascaded through her limbs at the barely perceptible sound of crinkling paper.
The parole hearing notice she’d stuffed into the pocket of her judge’s robe weighed her down. She smoothed a hand over her black robe and took a breath. The scent of wood polish teased the air. She rolled her shoulders, putting the past out of her mind. At least for now.
She needed to be fully present to do her job.
After two years of sitting on the federal district court bench in her home state, she still battled nerves every time she entered the courtroom. But she couldn’t predict when something, like the piece of mail she’d opened earlier, might trigger the panic lurking at the edges of her consciousness.
Gathering her bravado, she let out her breath, squared her shoulders and strode forward.
You can do this. The mantra played on repeat through her brain. You are strong.
She smiled and nodded to Harry Calvin, the court bailiff, as she passed him. Harry’s stoic expression didn’t crack. The older officer took his job as court guard seriously, and his presence steadied her nerves. She was safe here within the domain of the courthouse.
Her judicial assistant, Jordan Umi, fresh out of college and eager to please, gave her a nod as he took his seat off to the left side of the bench. The court reporter, Rachel Brown, sat in front of the bench.
Taking comfort in the familiar tableau, Adele stepped up to the dais, her gaze sweeping over the sea of faces staring at her.
Up front was the federal prosecutor and his two clerks sitting at the table to the left, while on the right was the criminal defense attorney, her two clerks and the defendant, Tomas Garcia.
The gallery teemed with potential jurors and the US marshal detail assigned to guard and keep track of the man whose fate would be in the hands of twelve men and women.
Several months ago, the US Marshals Service managed to bring down the head of a vicious drug cartel operating in Texas. Today’s proceedings started the process of giving Mr. Garcia his day in court.
“You may be seated.” Adele enunciated each syllable in a clear voice, thankful her earlier tension had dissipated.
She took her own seat and scooted the chair forward, her knee bumping up against something hard underneath the desk. Aware of all the gazes intently staring at her, she ignored the stinging sensation and silently lamented the bruise no doubt already forming. She made a mental note to have maintenance inspect the bench after the session. The courthouse and its furnishings were old and in need of updating. Apparently, the bench was falling apart.
Adjusting the microphone, her gaze once again brushed over the potential jurors. Men and women of varying ages and ethnicities stared back at her with expressions ranging from boredom to curiosity.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Adele intoned with slow and deliberate intention. “Thank you all for doing your civic duty and responding to your jury summons. This is a sacred responsibility of participation, and we couldn’t function in our system without the assistance of people like yourselves.”
She shifted in her seat, her knee hitting the hard object and causing her to jerk away from the offending article, the sound of ripping fabric echoing in her ears. Irritation swamped her. “Excuse me a moment.”
She pushed the chair back from the bench and dipped her head to look underneath. Within the dark cavernous space, blinking lights assaulted her. She could make out the shape of something square with sharp edges attached to the side of the bench. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was seeing.
An explosive device?
Her breath froze in her lungs.
Please, God, no!
She jumped out of her seat. A murmur of confusion rippled through the room. She needed to get everyone out of the courtroom. Her heart hammered against her ribs and her blood pounded in her veins.
Not wanting to start a panicked riot, she turned to Harry and said as calmly as she could in a low voice, “We need to evacuate. Now.”
She gestured to the space beneath the bench.
Harry frowned and ducked his head to see what she pointed at. His stoic demeanor faltered. He moved swiftly to the wall behind the bench and pulled the fire alarm. The shrill sound filled the air and bounced off the paneling. So much for not causing a panic.
Adele waved her arms and urged, “Go. Go!”
The US marshals grabbed their charge and swiftly ushered him out. The potential selection of jurors fled through the back doors behind the marshals. The lawyers and their clerks pushed after them.
Harry bound up the steps, grabbing her by the arm. The feel of his hand wrapped around her biceps shuddered through her.
“But we have to make sure everyone gets to safety,” she protested as he propelled her away from the bench, her head swiveling to find Jordan. The young man hurried after them.
Just as the bailiff tugged her through the doorway into the judge’s chamber, the bomb attached to the underside of the bench exploded.
Adele could only gasp as the force of the blast sent her stumbling forward, like a hard shove from behind. The deafening noise rang in her ears. Another set of explosions took her to the ground with jarring impact. She covered her head with her hands as debris rained down like blows.
For a blinding moment, she was transported back to a dark alley and the foul stench of sweat and blood filling her senses. The carpeted floor absorbed her scream.
* * *
A distant explosion rocked through the US Marshals Service building. Within seconds, the ringing of phones throughout the service headquarters sent a shiver of dread down US deputy marshal Brian Forrester’s spine.
The office door at the end of the bullpen opened and the US marshal for the Western District of Texas, Gavin Armstrong, hustled out.
From the dire expression on the boss’s face, Brian feared something bad had happened.
“The federal district courthouse has been bombed.”
Definitely bad.
“The Garcia trial...” Deputy Jace Armstrong said from his temporary
“The jury selection courtroom was the target,” Gavin stated.
A stone dropped in Brian’s stomach. “An assassination attempt on Garcia?” Many people wanted Tomas Garcia dead. The man had a long legacy of violence.
“Could be whomever is taking over his organization wants him eliminated,” Deputy Seraphina Morales said. “Just because we have Tomas Garcia in custody doesn’t mean his operation is disabled.”
Jace spun to stare at her. “Both Tomas and his son, Marco, are out of the picture. We’ve arrested all the top lieutenants. There’s no one left to take over.”
The thread of concern in his buddy’s tone wasn’t lost on Brian. Several months ago, Tomas Garcia had tried to kidnap an innocent woman, the daughter of a man who had witnessed Tomas’s son, Marco Garcia, commit murder. Jace had been tasked with keeping the woman, Abby Frost, safe and, in the process, had fallen in love with Abby while protecting her from the Garcias. Brian and Sera had helped in the takedown of the Garcia cartel.
“Maybe. Or maybe not,” Sera said. “I’ve been tracking drug overdoses and arrests since we apprehended Garcia. There was a gap for a short time, but activity has been going up again.”
“A rival cartel muscling in?” Jace suggested.
It wasn’t unusual for other drug lords to assume control of a crippled competitor.
“Gear up,” Gavin said. “We have to secure the judge and the prosecutor. Garcia’s detail has him already en route to the hospital. I’m not clear on the extent of his injuries.”
As the four of them hurried to the armory, along with every other marshal at headquarters, Brian asked, “Who’s the presiding judge?”
“Adele Weston.”
Brian’s steps faltered and his heart gave a giant thud as the image of beautiful topaz-colored eyes flashed through his mind. “Is she hurt?”
“I don’t have the statistics on any fatalities or injured beyond Garcia and his guard detail,” Gavin replied, donning a flak vest.
Reining in the crushing sense of doom, Brian put on his own vest, checked his weapons and grabbed extra magazine clips.
“EOD is on the way,” Gavin said, referring to the explosive ordinance detection team. “When we get there, we have to wait for them to clear the building before we can move in.”
“We should check the gawkers,” Jace said. “See if the bomber’s watching the chaos.”
“Good idea,” Gavin said. “You and Sera work the scene. Brian, you secure the judge.”
“No,” Brian stated before he could stop himself.
All eyes turned to him.
He cringed. Challenging his boss wasn’t a smart move.
“If what Sera suspects is true, that the cartel is up and running again, things are going to get real lively real fast. Especially if the attack on the courthouse is cartel related,” Brian stated. “I’d be more effective...”
Gavin held up a hand. “The judge.”
The firm tone brooked no argument. Brian stifled a resigned sigh.
“You want to share the reason you don’t want to protect the judge?” Jace asked with a sideways glance as they filed out the US marshals’ headquarters’ back door.
Gut churning with dread, Brian said, “No reason.”
“Right.”
Jace’s disbelieving tone had Brian wincing. His friend knew him too well.
Brian kept his mouth closed. No way was he going to admit he’d once asked Judge Weston out and had been soundly turned down.
* * *
The assaulting noise of the fire alarm had ceased but the overhead sprinkler system had kicked in, spraying water everywhere, soaking Adele as she lay sprawled on her belly on the floor. Her robe clung to her back. Water dripped into her eyes. She rolled to the side, shielding her face from the spray.
A hand gripped Adele’s shoulder. She jerked away, flinching from the touch.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
The bailiff’s voice sounded muffled to her, like she had cotton in her ears.
Breathing deep to push back the memories that taunted her, she nodded and sat up. Various spots of her body protested the movement. She gripped Harry’s forearm. “I’m fine. You?”
The older man straightened with a nod.
“Jordan?” Adele pushed to her knees, her gaze searching for her court clerk. He’d been behind them. Though the air was hazy with smoke, debris and steaming water, she could make out Jordan’s prone figure lying just inside the judge’s chamber doorway.
She crawled over to him.
Harry followed her. “He okay?”
She checked Jordan’s neck for a pulse. The faint flutter beneath her fingertips had her dropping her head in relief. “He’s alive.” She turned to Harry. “We need to get paramedics here.”
Pushing to her feet, she wobbled as the world tilted. She grabbed onto the doorframe. “We have to check on the others.”
Harry gripped her arm. “No, ma’am. You’re injured. You need to sit back down.”
Allowing the bailiff to urge her away from the doorway and to the rose-colored Victorian couch that sat against the wall beneath her framed diplomas and various pictures chronicling her career, she sank onto the cushioned seat.
Through the fuzziness in her ear, she heard ringing. She tugged at her earlobe, thinking the noise was inside her head then realized it was her cell phone. She started to rise, but Harry wagged his finger at her.
“You stay put.”
“My purse, Harry. In my desk drawer.”
With a sharp nod, the older man turned and stumbled to her desk, barely catching himself by gripping the edge and staying upright.
“Harry! You’re hurt.” Adele slowly rose from the couch to keep from losing her own balance. When she had her bearings, she hurried across the room and pushed Harry into the captain’s chair behind her desk.
“Don’t worry about me, ma’am,” Harry told her. “I’m as sturdy as a tree.”
“Even trees fall down.” She opened her desk drawer and dug through her purse for her phone. It had stopped ringing. But she had ten missed calls. Her sister, her mother, her father, her friends and Senator Ortega. She grimaced. “Phone lines must be out.”
Two paramedics came through the door, one making a beeline for her.
She shook her head and gestured to Harry and Jordan. “These two need to be taken care of before me. I’m fine.”
“We’ll see about that,” a deep masculine voice said from behind her.
A strange shiver raced along her limbs and she spun around to find herself face-to-face with US deputy marshal Brian Forrester.
Of course. The marshals service would take control of her safety. But him?
Her brain fritzed. Every cell in her body jangled and clamored to attention. She’d met him over two years ago at a charity function in downtown San Antonio, though saying they’d met was a stretch. She’d just been appointed to her judgeship and had been riding on a career high when, out of the blue, he’d approached her during a lull in the event.
But if she was honest, she had noted him earlier in the evening. He was hard to miss. Taller than most everyone else in the room, with a head of tasseled blond hair and striking green eyes, he’d had every female at the charity auction paying attention. She’d tried to keep her interest in check, but then he’d appeared at her side, oozing charm, making her laugh, and then asking her out.
His attention had made her heart race. Part of her had wanted to accept but she couldn’t. The thought of letting anyone get too close had sent ribbons of anxiety through her, tying her up in knots. When he’d tried coaxing her to accept, she’d turned tail and run, avoiding him the rest of the evening.
And now here he was again. Turning tail and running wasn’t an option. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. She kept her lips firmly closed. She’d heard Brian had transferred to California. What was he doing here, standing in front of her, in her chambers?
