Forced to Hide, page 6
“I’ll get the spare room ready for you.”
As she headed down the hall, she berated herself for finding the big man comforting. Not to mention attractive.
* * *
Brian watched as Adele restlessly moved about her kitchen. She’d been baking and cooking for two days. One would have thought she was feeding an army with the amount of food she had made as they waited for word from his boss and the San Antonio fire investigators. But so far, no news.
Adele had been on the phone often with her family and her friends, disappearing into her room for long periods of time, which gave him plenty of opportunities to bond with Scout. Though the backyard was fairly small, he would take Scout out periodically and play tug or toss a ball.
The domesticity of being ensconced in Adele’s home had Brian antsy, but he’d been trained on many a stakeout how to contain the need to do, to act. He couldn’t let boredom or complacency seep in. He had to stay sharp. Alert. That was a problem with Adele constantly humming and looking so cute in yoga pants and a long-sleeved tunic sweater. She was a huge distraction. One he had to figure out how to ignore.
“You’re very good with that paring knife,” he commented as he leaned against the counter, watching her dice vegetables for a stew she was making.
“After college, but before law school, I did a summer certificate program at the local culinary institute. I thought briefly about becoming a chef. But—” She shrugged.
“The law was calling to you.”
She glanced up. For a moment, something arced between them as it did every time their gazes met. Attraction. At least on his part. He was a man with a pulse, and she was a beautiful woman. He’d never lied to himself about finding her appealing from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her two years ago.
But what concerned him was the emotional bonding going on. He didn’t do bonding. Or attachment. Too easy to get hurt down that particular path.
He pushed away from the counter and headed for the TV remote. The news reports had been vague about the courthouse bombing, completely leaving out the wounds to the judge and Tomas Garcia. No doubt his boss had pulled some strings at the local stations. Maybe promising them an exclusive once they understood the scope of the situation. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s healing nicely, thank you. Hardly hurts. I iced it and put some antibacterial ointment over the stitches, like the doctor said to do,” she said as she added ingredients to a pot on the stove. “Thankfully, the cut wasn’t too deep or too long.”
Glad to hear that news, he asked, “And your head?”
“No problem there, either,” she told him. “Ice made the bump go away. There’s hardly even a sore spot now.”
Knowing how close she’d come to being blown to smithereens left him with a disquiet that was slightly assuaged by hearing she wasn’t in pain now. If she hadn’t bumped her knee on the device beneath the bench, and if she hadn’t acted quickly, so many lives could have been extinguished.
Brian’s phone rang. He pounced on it, eager for news. Scout trotted over as he answered. The dog put his snout on Brian’s knee and Brian absently stroked the dog’s head as he answered. “Forrester.”
“Deputy Forrester, this is Colleen Jameson from the San Antonio Fire Investigation Unit. Your boss gave me this number and asked that I let you know what we found as we have concluded our investigation into the courthouse bombing.”
“I’m all ears.” Brian’s heart thumped in his chest. Hopefully, they’d found a lead on the bomber. Was this related to the cartel? But if so, why hadn’t his boss called him?
“There were, in fact, three devices. One placed under the judge’s bench. One under the prosecution table and a third under the defendant’s table. All three were remotely detonated.”
“The bomber had to be somewhere in the building or just outside.” A bold move on the suspect’s part. Would the interior security cameras of the courthouse reveal the culprit?
“Not necessarily. From the remnants of the devices, we’ve ascertained it had a long-range detonation system. The bomber could have been blocks away.”
Disappointment shot through him. “Any leads on the bomber?”
“We have gone through an extensive investigation on every person who had access to the courthouse in the days leading up to the bombing. No red flags.”
Just because someone didn’t have a record didn’t mean they were innocent. “But somebody had to get in there to place the bombs. If it wasn’t an employee, then who?”
“As I was saying, we found no evidence of foul play by anyone employed by the justice system. And we went through everyone’s background with a fine-toothed comb after what happened before.”
She was referring to the US marshals’ admin who’d been planted in the headquarters by the Garcias. A stain on the US Marshals Service that would take years to scrub away.
“We did, however, discover a glitch in the security cameras on the night before the bombing.”
His heart sped up. A major clue. “You could have led with that information.”
“I could have, but I wanted you to be aware that the breach in security was not done by anyone employed in the justice system. Whoever planted the explosive devices managed to bypass the security cameras by looping the feed so the security guards were no wiser while the explosives were being planted.”
A stunt right out of a movie. “What about CCTV of the surrounding area? Surely there’s a camera that caught the perpetrator approaching the courthouse.”
“Again, the suspect is good. Like, scary good. They managed to loop every single video camera within a ten-mile radius of the courthouse between the hours of midnight and one o’clock. This is next level hacking.”
That didn’t bode well for catching him. A deep dread gripped him. “So the guy’s good with computers. Was there any forensic evidence left behind?” Even as Brian asked the question, he knew the answer would be no.
“No. The only reason we even discovered the computer video hack was a barely detectable blip in the recording made by one of the security cameras a mile from the courthouse. The camera in question was programmed to reset at 12:15 a.m., which caused a momentary blip in the loop for that camera. And yet, somehow, the hacker was able to capture it and continue the loop. But he couldn’t scrub the blip. That, in turn, led us to look more closely at all the security feeds.”
Frustration beat a steady beat at his temple. “How do we find this hacker?”
She took an audible breath. “The FBI has had their technicians look at the video feeds and confirm that each video system had been hacked. According to the FBI, there’re only a few hackers in the world as good with this kind of capability. This is beyond the scope of the San Antonio Fire Investigation Unit. We’ve handed the investigation over to the FBI.”
Brian gnashed his teeth. The Federal Bureau of Investigation would be highly unlikely to share any of their findings with the marshals service until after they brought down the hacker and bomber. Brian could only pray his boss would figure out a way to play nice with the FBI.
“Thank you for the call.” Brian hung up.
Adele moved to stand close to him. “From the hunch of your shoulders, I take it we’re no closer to discovering who wants me dead.”
“No, we are not. At least, not as far as the courthouse bombing goes. But I’m going to check in with Sera and Jace and see what they have discovered about our mysterious shooter. He didn’t hack the security camera in the hospital parking garage, which is what alerted my boss and Jace.”
Brian dialed the marshals service private line for Sera. When she answered, he asked, “Any updates?”
“Well, hello to you, too.” Sera’s tone held a note of mocking amusement.
He grimaced. “Sorry. I’m frustrated.”
Her demeanor sobered. “I take it you heard from the SAFD investigator?”
“I did. What have you discovered on the shooter?”
“Not a lot.” Her voice held a derisive pitch. “The white sedan was found outside of town, burned to a crisp. It had been reported stolen two days prior to the shooting. We traced its progress to the hospital from the courthouse. We have video of it entering the parking garage not long after your vehicle. There’s footage of the shooting and we catch the sedan again pulling out of the hospital parking garage, but the windows were too heavily tinted to make out the driver. The sedan disappears once again, scrubbed from all video cameras in the city until troopers found the burned remains on a turnout off the highway.”
“Must be the same guy who hacked the courthouse security feed. But why did the hacker not loop the hospital security cameras like he did at the courthouse?”
“That’s a question we will have to ask him when we find him. But, as of now, we are at a standstill.” Her voice held a note of irritation he understood too well.
After a beat, Sera asked, “How’s it going there?”
“Good.” Brian glanced over his shoulder and watched Adele put a baking sheet of cookies into the oven. Her long red hair hung in a braid down her back and swung as she straightened and turned toward him, her gaze locking with his. So pretty.
He refocused on the phone in his hand. The last thing he needed was to be caught staring and making her aware of his attraction to her. He had to stay professional. Detached. Hard to do in such tight quarters.
Scout went to the back door and sat. A signal that he needed to go out? Brian took the opportunity for privacy, or so he rationalized rather than admit he needed a breather from Adele and headed over to the sliding-glass door and slid it open. The dog bolted outside, Brian followed behind him, shutting the door in his wake. “So how long do you think I’ll be here with the judge?”
“I thought you said it was going good?”
Sera’s mocking tone grated on his nerves. “It is. But she’s getting antsy. And, frankly, so am I.” Understatement. He wasn’t used to inactivity. He preferred the heightened adrenaline rush of chasing down fugitives, an aspect of the US Marshals Service that he thrived on.
He blew out a breath. “We can’t hole up in her home for the rest of our lives. I’m surprised she’s let me stay this long.” She was soothing herself with constant baking. At this rate, he’d gain ten pounds before this assignment was over. “I wouldn’t put it past her to start making noises about going back to work in the next day or so.”
“Maybe sooner,” Sera said. “There was too much damage at the courthouse to continue to conduct business, so a makeshift courthouse is being set up at an old elementary school.”
“Understood.” It would be a logistical nightmare. They’d need the cooperation from the city, county and FBI to secure such a venue. “Where’s Garcia?”
She snorted. “He’s back in jail. His injuries were minor. Mostly, he’d suffered an angina attack. Got a bad ticker. Who knew?”
Brian didn’t want to wish anyone ill but there seemed some poetic justice that Tomas Garcia’s heart would cause him problems considering the heartache the man spread through his cartel. “Any headway on locating his illegitimate daughter?”
Sera made a growling noise. “I’m working on it.”
Brian didn’t doubt that if anyone could locate the woman, it would be Sera. She was a top-notch investigator. He still wondered why she’d chosen the marshals service over FBI or homicide. But he was glad to have her on the team. She brought a certain level of competency and finesse to the job that not many did.
The sliding door opened. Adele filled the doorway. She’d removed the apron. The green, long-sleeved sweater she wore heightened her beauty and made his chest ache.
She arched an eyebrow and said, “Hungry?”
His response came swiftly. “Always.”
“She’s cooking for you?” Sera’s laugh filled his ears. “Yeah, real tough assignment. She’s going to spoil you.”
He couldn’t stop a grin from spreading over his face and was glad Adele couldn’t hear Sera’s side of the conversation. “You know it.”
“Brian.” Sera’s voice took on a steely edge. “Make sure you both come out of this situation intact.”
“Of course.” He turned from Adele and scowled at the fence. “I’m not going to let anything happen to the judge.” Sera questioning his abilities grated on his nerves like paws scrabbling across concrete.
“I know you’ll keep the judge safe.” Her tone suggested he’d offended her. “I’m talking about both of your hearts.”
He suppressed a bark of laughter. “You know me, Sera.”
“Yes, I do.” The adamant confirmation had him sucking in a sharp breath. “Which is why I’m telling you to be careful. You may find it easy to walk away from emotions. But from what little I’ve gleaned about the judge, not so much. She’s had her fair share of trauma.”
His heart contracted. What did that mean? Was Sera referring to the courthouse bombing? Or something else? Brian hadn’t had time to do his due diligence, which he normally would when taking on a new case subject. “You don’t have to worry. Nothing will happen.”
He hung up and corralled his irritation and disquiet. Sera and Jace knew how his chaotic childhood—bouncing from one house to another while a parade of stepparents and stepsiblings came and went—had left Brian jaded on love and commitment. He wasn’t about to forget the lessons he’d learned watching his parents and their revolving-door marriages.
Falling for the judge and letting her fall for him wasn’t on his agenda. Protecting her was his objective. Nothing more.
SIX
Just as Adele put away the last of the dinner dishes, the front doorbell rang. An anxious burst of alarm revved her pulse. Would panic always be her default mode? Wiping her hands on a towel, she pulled in several calming breaths before heading toward the door.
Brian snagged her elbow, drawing her back against his solid chest. “Let me see who it is first.”
“As you wish,” she quipped, hoping to belie the rush of adrenaline his touch and his words let loose. Would a bad guy announce his presence?
He arched an eyebrow. Then he grinned and gave her a formal bow.
She appreciated the moment of levity even as her heart thumped with mounting anxiety.
He sobered, a mask of granite dropping over his handsome features as he placed his hand on his holstered weapon and approached the door. He peered out the peephole, stepped back and turned to face her. The expression on his face could only be described as a cross between wariness and dread. “I recognize your parents and sister from the pictures in your living room.”
Her heart bumped against her ribs and she gave a small squeal of delight. She rushed past Brian to unlock the door and fling it open. Her father stood proud in his dark navy suit. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back from his forehead, revealing his widow’s peak. Obviously, he’d recently come from work. Her mother, sitting in her wheelchair, looked lovely in a bright blue pantsuit, her red hair swept up in an artful bun. Behind them was her younger sister, Claire, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with her college’s logo on the front. Her hair, more strawberry-blond than Adele’s auburn, was pulled back into a high ponytail, making her appear young and carefree.
Adele flung her arms around her father’s neck, breathing in the fresh ocean scent of his aftershave. Then she bent down to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’m so happy to see you all.”
“Are you going to invite us inside?” her father asked.
“Of course.” She moved back, allowing her mother to wheel herself across the threshold. One of the specifications Adele had made when she’d had the house built was that all the doorways and hallways were extra wide to accommodate her mother.
Her father walked forward and gripped Brian’s hand. “Deputy Marshal Forrester, I presume.”
Surprise washed over Brian’s face. “Yes, sir. Nice to meet you, Mr. Weston.”
After an assessing beat, her father said, “Call me Max.”
Her mother held out a hand, her diamond wedding ring sparkling in the overhead light. “And I’m Lorraine. We are so thankful you’re here to protect our daughter.”
Claire moved to stand toe to toe with Brian. Adele suppressed a smile. Her sister had more self-confidence and boldness than most people Adele knew.
Though Claire barely cleared his shoulders, she lifted her chin and skewered Brian with an intense stare. “So you’re the man protecting my sister. You don’t look like a marshal.”
Adele eyed Brian, as well. Except for the holstered gun at his hip, he looked ready to ride the range. The well-worn cowboy boots, denim, and chambray shirt hugging his chest were as appealing as seeing him in a tux had been on that first night when he’d asked her out. She liked both versions of the man standing in front of her. He was a capable protector with experience. Attractive, too, but Adele wouldn’t ever say that out loud.
Brian put his right hand up as if taking an oath in court. “I promise I am a marshal.”
“We hear they’re relocating the court system to Taylor Ferry Elementary School,” her father said.
Stunned, Adele wondered how her father knew when she didn’t. She cast Brian a glance. His face remained impassive, unreadable. Did he know? “When?”
“Tomorrow, I believe. But you know you can never fully trust the news reports,” her mother said. “I assume you’ll be going back to work when they do open up?”
“Yes, I will.” Adele turned her gaze to Brian. “Did you know about this?”
He had the good grace to flush guiltily. “I learned about it this afternoon.”
Irritation flared. “When were you going to tell me?”
