Safeguarding the witness...

And his adopted little girl

US Marshal Delaney Patton’s assignment: protect murder witness Bruce Walker and his daughter—a little girl Delaney suspects is the child she gave up for adoption years ago. But before she can explore a possible reunion, Delaney must outsmart the deadly criminal organization tracking their every move. Can she shield them long enough to find the truth...and possibly become part of the family she’s falling for?

HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot-air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black-diamond ski trail in Aspen and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.

Also by Heather Woodhaven

Calculated Risk

Surviving the Storm

Code of Silence

Countdown

Texas Takedown

Tracking Secrets

Credible Threat

Protected Secrets

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Protected Secrets

Heather Woodhaven

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08560-1

PROTECTED SECRETS

© 2018 Heather Humrichouse

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“We’re driving around until they’re finished with the first witness.” Delaney looked over her shoulder at Bruce for a split second.

His heart sped up as the mail truck sped down the parking ramps. Let this time be different.

A shot rang out. People screamed on the courthouse steps and uniformed men ran out, looking up, weapons in hand. A metal crunching sound reverberated through the vehicle. Bruce reeled forward as the truck spun backward. Someone honked.

“Have we been hit?”

“Everyone okay?” Delaney shouted at the same time.

So the truck had been shot at, but he didn’t see where the bullet had landed. Bruce launched himself out of his seat and sat next to Winnie, both shielding her and frantically checking for any injuries.

Delaney picked up her radio and spoke rapidly. “Shots fired. Two down.”

Bruce groaned, hung his head and kissed Winnie’s forehead.

Someone had been waiting for them.

Dear Reader,

This was probably the hardest story for me to write thus far, though perhaps I think that of every book I’ve just finished.

During the writing of this book, my son’s recovery from a routine surgery became a nightmare. For a brief moment, I thought we’d lost him. I’ll never forget that night, and I’m abundantly thankful for the doctor who wasn’t even supposed to still be there and the on call surgery team that arrived impossibly fast during rush hour. After two weeks of little sleep, my son fully recovered and is doing better than ever.

Toward the end of writing, my sweet dog, and the inspiration for Tracking Secrets, collapsed in the living room and took her last breath. She’d been by my side for the past eleven years, usually trying to put her head on top of the laptop while I typed or flopping on my feet so I had no choice but to keep writing. I’m thankful I have nothing but fond and hilarious memories of her. She was the ideal dog for our family.

So my emotional rollercoaster may have seeped through the pages of the book. It served as a reminder that if you haven’t experienced some things yourself, you might not understand. Even with research. My apologies if I portrayed any aspect of the adoption journey incorrectly as I haven’t been part of an adoption personally.

Delaney’s journey compelled me. She could accept God’s forgiveness but had a harder time forgiving herself. I think everyone battles the tendency to some extent. Winnie has similar traits to my youngest and a certain precocious niece. She was a delight to write. And finally, Iowa is an amazing place to grow up. I’m glad I was able to set the story there. I hope to visit again soon.

Blessings,

Heather Woodhaven

Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is of God.

—2 Corinthians 3:5

For my children and nieces and nephews. Thanks for all the laughs and stories and imaginative playtime throughout the years. You guys rock.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Bruce Walker recognized his assistant as the only other person in the parking lot. Her silver curls and thick glasses reflected the sun cresting over the tall trees in the distance. “I owe you big, Nancy.” He approached, holding two to-go cups. “I know Saturday mornings are precious.”

“Just missing my cartoons.” She paused. “You see, it used to be Saturday mornings when the cartoons—”

“I’m not that young, Nancy.”

She accepted the coffee with a wink. “Where’s your little darling? I thought you might bring her with you.”

Aside from Nancy King’s attention for detail and unmatched work ethic, she acted as an honorary grandmother to his two-year-old daughter. It was a much-needed connection that he appreciated as a single dad. “She’s at a friend’s house this morning, which is why I’m taking advantage of your time. I feel like we’re not quite ready for the big sales pitch Monday.”

Ever since Trevor, his stepbrother, quit the company six months ago, Bruce had yet to fill the gaping hole Trevor had left as his former partner. Nancy crossed the parking lot with him. He entered the code to momentarily disarm the security system and unlocked the door.

On weekends, there was usually only one security guard on duty. At that moment, Max rounded the corner, hair freshly buzzed in a military cut he’d likely been wearing for over forty years. Aside from his uniform of an ironed white shirt and navy pants, he wore a holster with a gun and Taser. It seemed like overkill to Bruce, but he relied on the expertise of the security firm to make those decisions. “How’s it going this morning, Max?”

“Before you came, it was quiet on all fronts, just how I like it.” Max whistled as he strode past them. For good measure, Max checked the locks on the door they’d entered before he rounded the next corner.

Bruce’s phone dinged with an alert: Network Down. He groaned. There was no explanation for that, but it didn’t necessarily mean the problem was on their end. “Slight change of plans, Nancy. I’m going to need to make a quick stop in the server room to make sure everything is okay.”

She matched his stride. “Can I do anything?”

“I’ll need to talk with someone in the IT department first. I think Doug is on call today. Could you text him? He should’ve received the same alert I did.” He shoved the stairwell door open since the elevator worked at a snail’s pace.

Nancy didn’t complain. He heard her steps behind him until he reached the basement level when her phone dinged. “Doug says it’s just come back online, but he doesn’t know why the blip occurred in the first place.”

So it could’ve been a connectivity glitch. “Tell him that since I’m here I’m going to take a look and call him back in a minute.” He stepped out into the open area filled with cubicles. “Nancy, you can wait for me in my office if you want.”

In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of someone disappearing behind a cubicle wall. He froze for half a second, caught off guard. It was possible his eyes were playing tricks on him. Glad Nancy hadn’t left yet, he turned his head and said in low tones, “Send Max a text and tell him to make his rounds down here now.”

Her eyebrows rose, but she didn’t argue. Her thumbs flew over her phone’s keypad.

A blip of light flashed from the cubicle to his left. Bruce strained his neck and saw a computer monitor on with a script shooting lines of code out faster than he could read. So he wasn’t imagining things. Someone else was down here. “Hello?” he called out.

No one spoke, but his neck tingled. If someone had come in through the front doors, Max would’ve noticed. The man always double-checked doors were locked after someone entered, and the security key code would’ve alerted him to their presence. So who was here? How had they gotten in?

And what had they come here to do?

Bruce took a step toward the computer screen and tried to read the script.

“What’s going on?” Nancy stood to his right and looked down.

His stomach turned to lead. An unsanctioned update was uploading to all the bank systems that subscribed to their risk-analysis software. Bruce set down his coffee, leaned over and entered the administrator commands necessary to quit the process.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voice reverberated through the room.

Bruce straightened. Nancy’s face blanched and coffee ran down her wrist and dripped onto the blue carpet. A man—short in stature, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans—held a gun in his shaking hand.

Once Bruce managed to move his focus from the gun to the man’s face, he recognized Andy Williamson, one of his data analysts. Andy narrowed his eyes and steadied his aim on Bruce. “Move away from the computer.”

He did, using the opportunity to slide in front of Nancy. “Andy, what are you doing? Put the gun down.” Bruce put one hand behind him and gestured for Nancy to get down. Instead, he felt her shaking fingers grip the back of his shirt. She tugged him backward. No doubt she felt some maternal instinct toward him, but there was no time to argue about who should save whom.

“Don’t take another step,” Andy barked.

The tugging on the back of his shirt stopped. Bruce didn’t know Andy as well as he did some of the other employees, but he’d seemed friendly. Maybe there was some sort of stress in his life that had made him snap. If he was a reasonable man, there was hope he could be talked down. “Andy, I can help you. Just put—”

“You weren’t supposed to be here. If you’d just stayed away you never would’ve known.”

“Known what?” Bruce asked. “What are you trying to do?”

Andy raked his free hand down the side of his face but his weapon stayed trained on Bruce. “You need to turn around and walk away now. Don’t interfere and forget you ever saw a thing, for your own good. You don’t mess with the—”

The stairwell door at the opposite end of the floor opened. Max was coming. Bruce couldn’t let him walk into an ambush. “Gun!”

As Andy spun around, Bruce clutched Nancy’s wrist and pulled her downward into a crouch as he ran the two of them past the cubicles.

A trio of gunshots rang out.

He felt Nancy flinch at each ping of the bullets. Bruce looked over his shoulder just in time to see Max crumple to the ground.

“No!” A sob escaped Nancy’s lips.

Bruce pulled her around the corner to a darkened hallway. “Follow me.”

He ran to the nearest door and placed his hand on the biometric scanner. Two beeps sounded, followed by a click. He wrenched open the door as Andy rounded the hallway corner.

Bruce gave Nancy a gentle push so she’d step inside the server room first. Then he met Andy’s anguished but determined gaze as Andy raised the handgun. Bruce ducked behind the fireproof door and the bullets hit the steel in front of him. He pulled on the handle of the hydraulic door so it would close before Andy reached them. “Come on, come on, come on.” The lock clicked, but he had a hard time letting go of the handle.

“Won’t he be able to get in, too?”

“No.”

“But we’re trapped.” Nancy’s voice shook. She didn’t wait for him to answer and held the phone to her ear. “Gunman shooting at us.” She rattled the address to what had to be police dispatch and stepped into the small space between the servers and the wall before sinking down to the ground.

Bruce forced his fingers to relax and let go of the handle. He took one step back and watched the door. He stood inside the most secure room in the building, designed to withstand most hackers and thieves, but he didn’t remember “bulletproof” as being one of the selling points. The steel seemed to be holding up for now.

At least Andy, as an analyst, didn’t have credentials to enter the server room. Bruce pulled out a keyboard from one of the racks and typed in the commands to shut down the outgoing update in midstream. He then turned off the network completely so Andy couldn’t try again.

Their company provided risk-analysis software to 30 percent of the banks in the country. If Andy had been able to sneak malware in with an update, it was impossible to guess just how much damage he could’ve done both to the banks and to his company’s reputation.

Another gunshot sounded. Bruce recoiled, remembering Max’s crumpled body out there. He couldn’t afford to think about him right now because Andy wasn’t giving up. Unless Nancy had a gun in her purse, he had no options for weapons. The room only contained racks of servers. Nancy’s hand reached up in the air. “We need to pray,” she whispered.

He stared at her hand for a moment before realizing she was right. There was nothing else left for him to do. Bruce accepted her shaking fingers and sank to the floor. Nancy murmured pleas for protection and help so fast his brain couldn’t register everything she said. I agree, Lord. It was the only prayer he could manage. At a moment like this, all he could think about was his daughter. Would she lose the only parent who wanted her?

The police couldn’t come fast enough.

* * *

Delaney Patton had joined the US Marshals almost three years ago to run from her mistakes. She didn’t think she’d be sent right back to face the past.

The rental car idled while she stared at the nondescript blue house she’d once called home in Ames, Iowa. Later, it was the place where she’d gotten the news that her boyfriend, and fellow police officer, had died. The police chief had told her while she’d fought to keep a brave face. She hadn’t been strong enough. She’d broken down, and then her water had broken.

Most days, the memories didn’t feel real, more like recalling a bad dream. Early labor had followed the tragic news, and in her grief and despair, she’d decided to give the baby up for adoption. Her little girl deserved better than a single mom who couldn’t cope.

Delaney sucked in a sharp breath. Her appearance still looked relatively the same—long brunette hair always pulled back in a ponytail—but she was a different person now. If given the opportunity to do it all over again, she wouldn’t make the same choices. But life didn’t offer do-overs.

It did no good to wallow. The Marshals had transferred her back to the Southern District of Iowa because Delaney knew it like the back of her hand. And while the base of operations was located in Des Moines, it was possible she’d be sent to Ames occasionally.

Delaney shifted the car into Drive. She’d found out what she needed to know. She could handle being in Ames, even on this street, without breaking down. Now she just had to work up the courage to let her parents know she was back in the state.

Her phone rang. “US Marshals. Deputy Marshal Patton.”

“Welcome home!” The deep boisterous voice could only belong to her previous police chief, Stephen Bradford, now the newly appointed US marshal for the Southern District of Idaho.

“Thank you, sir.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, but it fell flat. It was hard to shake the feeling that her new boss knew too much about her. He had, after all, been the one to hold her as she’d cried all the way to the hospital.

“Listen, I know you just flew in last night. I wanted to give you the weekend to get settled but—”

“Urgent case?” Hope blossomed. Going after a fugitive case that would take her across the state sounded like the perfect transition to the district.

“It’s an expedited protection custody assignment. The Bureau pushed it through to the US Attorney’s Office this afternoon.”

Delaney felt her eyebrows rise. Normal procedure took at least ten business days to get witness protection from the Marshals. To have it scheduled within one day meant something big had happened. “Any details?”

“They’re coming to me piecemeal. Two witnesses stopped a hacker from planting a back door that would provide access to bank credentials. The hacker allegedly murdered the security guard and escaped before law enforcement arrived on the scene. Security cameras and access logs had been disabled. No murder weapon has been found.”

“The hacker?” Delaney tried to make sense of what she was hearing. The situation was certainly serious, but so far she didn’t see the reason for expedited protection.

“Arrested an hour ago. Feds think he’s the key to bringing down the CryptTakers.”

That particular criminal organization had been wreaking havoc across the country for the past three years. Last year, they’d taken insurance claims for ransom as well as hospital records. Unlike other “hacktivism” groups that insisted their cybercrimes were for good, the CryptTakers had suspected ties to terrorist groups.

“Preliminary background check shows your witness, a Bruce Walker, has no priors. Owner of the software company that provides banks with analysis software, divorced over a year ago, sole custody of his adopted daughter. No other family in town.”

A mental image formed of a workaholic man in his early fifties with a teenage daughter. She knew the type. “So are we talking WITSEC or trial protection?”

“Assistant US Attorney thinks the moment the witnesses show up to testify, the guy will be ready to turn informant.”

“So there must be a reason the hacker doesn’t turn informant now.”

“Exactly. The suspect implied he didn’t think the witnesses would be able to make it to trial.”

“A veiled threat, then. Matches the reputation of the CryptTakers.”

“The other witness, Nancy King, commutes from Story City. We already have a team on the way. Your witness is located in Ames. I want you taking the lead on his detail.”

Delaney nodded silently. She knew the Ames area best, likely better than the other marshals based out of Des Moines, but it still seemed like a big step to be appointed lead.

“Police are with your witness now. I’ll tell them to expect you in an hour.”

She hesitated to answer. “I’m actually in Ames now.” She kept her gear packed and with her at all times. She never knew when a fugitive alert would come her way.

An uncomfortable silence followed. “That’s good. Face those memories head-on.”

Delaney cringed. Bradford didn’t even have to be in the same room to see right through her. How was she supposed to impress a man who already knew all her faults?

“I’ll send a car,” he said. He rattled off the witness’s address. “Since this is my stomping ground, feel free to consult me as well as the chief deputy with any questions. We’re working tandem on this one. Two deputies will meet you there in an hour for transport to the safe house. I’ll send the vetting information and case briefing as soon as I have them.”

It would be the first time she’d ever served as lead on anything in the Marshals, which meant she couldn’t let Marshal Bradford down. And being responsible for someone as important as a witness who could take down the CryptTakers caused a sudden craving for chocolate. Was there still a chocolate shop on Main Street? She shook off the thought and made a U-turn.

Bruce Walker lived in an older neighborhood near Squaw Creek, where the streets were lined with mature maple trees. She gawked at the house as she slowed to a stop. Unlike the typical farmhouse architecture on the street, his was a Tudor, a gorgeous piece of architecture the likes of which she’d only dreamed of ever owning. The steeply pitched gable roof, the curved wooden door, the decorative brick on the lower half and the chimney all hinted at simpler, more elegant times.

Given the age of the house, it wasn’t a surprise the garage was unattached. A police cruiser was parked in the paved space between the garage and the house. A block away, an officer sat inside another cruiser strategically positioned at the curve, behind a twisted oak tree that jutted into the road.

Delaney braced herself. It’d been about three years since she’d been on the Ames police force, and during the last months of her service there, she’d been pregnant. Hopefully, the officers assigned to the protection detail were new recruits. She didn’t want to rehash the past or go down memory lane with anyone. She stepped out of the rental car, held up her US Marshals badge in the direction of the cruiser and strode up the curved sidewalk to the front door.

A female officer she didn’t recognize rounded the corner. “Ma’am, I’ll need some identification.”

Delaney displayed her badge and pulled out the rest of her ID. “I’ll need the same from you.”

The officer smiled and complied. “We heard you would arrive soon. I guess we’ll let you take it from here. I’ll be honest, though. I was looking forward to this assignment when I saw the cutie I’d be protecting.”

Delaney felt her eyes widen at the unprofessional admission but said nothing. If this woman had been a fellow deputy, she might’ve pushed the issue. The officer waved her forward, and Delaney knocked on the door.

When it swung open, she fought to keep her face neutral. Bruce Walker looked nothing like the older man she’d imagined. At approximately six feet tall, a good five inches taller than she was, with wavy brown hair that barely curled over the top of his ears, light green eyes and olive skin, the man couldn’t have been more than thirty-five at the most. He was the owner of the software company? That meant he was as smart and capable as he was handsome. But while certainly attractive, she wouldn’t dare refer to him as a cutie. His professional demeanor, broad shoulders and rugged good looks demanded a much stronger descriptive word.

She held out a hand and Bruce’s own hand enveloped hers. “Deputy US Marshal Delaney Patton.”

He held her fingers for a moment and tilted his head. “Have we met?”

Her neck grew hot, and she dropped the stalled handshake before she could reflect on how his touch made her stomach flip. “Not likely,” she said. The one thing she’d excelled at was remembering a face. The skill helped when tracking down fugitives but wasn’t going to help tonight when she tried to fall asleep. Bruce’s green eyes were unforgettable.

“Sorry. You look familiar to me. I—”

“Daddy!” A high-pitched squeal and thundering footsteps came from the living room.

Bruce squatted down and caught the running toddler in his arms before standing up. “This is Winona.”

“Winnie,” the little girl announced, her forehead creased in stern rebuke.

Bruce nodded. “But as you can tell, she likes Winnie for short.”

“Bye, cutie-pie.” A voice rang out. Delaney turned around to see the officer wave goodbye at the little girl. So that was the cutie she’d meant. Delaney’s cheeks heated at her mistaken assumption.

“Winnie, honey, this is Mrs.—” Bruce’s eyebrows rose and he leaned forward toward her. “Sorry. Could you repeat your last name?”

“It’s Miss Patt—actually, Deputy Marshal Patton.”

The little girl’s face scrunched up in confusion. Delaney tried to smile but could feel her face fighting against it. Seeing the girl was like a punch to the stomach. The little one had to be the same age as her daughter would be.

She consoled herself with the fact that her newborn had had dark hair and the darkest blue eyes she’d ever seen, nothing like this child’s light brown hair and sky blue eyes. Winnie wasn’t her little girl, but her mind kept drifting, wondering if the couple who’d adopted her daughter lived somewhere in town—maybe next door, across the street, ten or fifteen minutes away. So close, yet with no way of reaching her, it might as well be another country. She steeled herself to focus on the present or she’d be useless.

“I guess the official name is pretty long,” Delaney added. She’d never had to work with children before. “How about we keep it simple and you can call me Delaney?”

Winnie smiled shyly before she burrowed her face into her daddy’s strong shoulder. “Come in,” Bruce said. He turned and walked into the living room with a glance over his shoulder.

The living room took Delaney’s breath away. Thick carpet soft enough that she was sure she could sleep on the floor without a pillow or blanket, a brown leather couch with thick teal blankets adorning each armrest, a wooden coffee table covered in both nonfiction tomes and picture books, and a fireplace at the opposite end of the room. If this was any indication of what the rest of the place was like, the house could serve as her dream vacation spot. Ceiling-high windows on either side of the mantel showcased a yard with a willow tree, an oak tree, sunflowers as tall as her witness, bird feeders and a wooden deck. A hummingbird zoomed up to one of the flowers, stole some nectar and darted away.

“I’m surprised they were able to send someone so soon,” Bruce said, setting Winnie down. His phone vibrated. “Excuse me. My attorney said he’d get in touch and help walk me through this process. My company is in a very fragile state—”

So no one had let him know yet that he’d have to leave all his electronics behind. Did he even know they would need to leave, that they had a safe house waiting for them? She’d yet to see it, but knew without a doubt it would pale in comparison to his home.

Bruce held his phone up. From Delaney’s vantage point she could see his entire screen had turned blue with white letters. Don’t Open Your Mouth.

Delaney spun, assessing the windows and the exits. She locked the front door. “We can’t afford to wait for the rest of the team.” She leaned over furniture as she pulled down all the blinds over the front windows. The windows by the fireplace were without window coverings. “You have less than five minutes to grab a bag for you and your daughter. You’re not safe here.”

TWO

Bruce tried to keep his voice light, especially since Winnie stood next to him, but he struggled to keep his temper down. “I’ve spent the entire day away from my daughter. I’ve given the same statement over and over. They must’ve shuffled me around to a dozen people. The police have caught the shooter.”

Bruce didn’t even want to say Andy’s name at the moment. The less he thought about what happened, the better he’d function. Max had been their security guard since Bruce opened the company. He felt a great sense of personal loss at the man’s death, and it was all he could do to keep it together. “Can we take the panic down a notch?”

He paused as he thought about the warning on his phone. If Andy was in jail, then who’d sent the message to his phone? Maybe it was a relative or a girlfriend wanting to make sure her man didn’t stay in prison. Though if that was the case, bringing in the Marshals to watch over them seemed a bit much. Delaney was acting as if he was in immediate, life-threatening danger. “Is there something I don’t know?”

She flashed him a look of pity, but before he could react, her pretty features hardened. “Normally, you would’ve been briefed by the Assistant US Attorney before I showed up, but we’re on an accelerated schedule. Everyone is in catch-up mode. By Monday night, I’m sure all of that will have happened, but for now, you need to know my job is to keep you safe. There is a suspicion that the shooter has ties to a very dangerous group.” She glanced down at the tactical watch on her wrist. “I’m giving you three minutes to grab what you need, or we leave with nothing and my team picks your clothes.”

Bruce pulled his head back at the ultimatum. He could challenge her, but he could already see that she wouldn’t back down. If the authorities thought Andy had dangerous allies, maybe he should get moving.

She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”

Her close proximity, gorgeous blue eyes and hushed voice soothed his nerves somehow. He took a step backward and smiled at Winnie. “Honey, go get your Lovey.” While she ran for the blanket she insisted on sleeping with every night, he headed to his room and grabbed his biggest duffel bag. He darted from his dresser to the bathroom to Winnie’s room.

The severity of the situation magnified with each item he threw in the bag. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, pretend the murder and hacking attempt never happened and let the danger disappear. Though when the police had finally coaxed him and Nancy out of the server room, Max’s lifeless form was still on the carpeted floor, blood pooled around his chest.

Bruce’s limbs grew heavy, despite trying to move quickly. He couldn’t allow a murderer to walk free, and he couldn’t let Nancy take the burden of being the only witness. He had to testify.

He wanted to know which hacking group they suspected of being involved, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to know. His stress levels were already through the roof.

Delaney stepped into the doorway of Winnie’s room. “I’ve got officers waiting for us outside. It’s time to go.”

Winnie barreled into Delaney’s right leg and squeezed. Bruce blinked in surprise. Winnie never ran to strangers, and she certainly didn’t hug them.

Delaney flinched and stiffened. Winnie looked up and grinned. Delaney kept her head up and pursed her lips, as if she was about to be ill. Most women turned into putty around his adorable daughter, willing to do anything to earn more hugs and smiles from Winnie. Did the government assign him a marshal who hated kids?

Bruce dropped the duffel bag and scooped Winnie up. “You know, she’s usually slow to warm to people. This is her way of letting you know she likes you.”

Delaney frowned but didn’t make eye contact. “Yes, thank you, uh...Winnie.” She spun around and walked down the hallway to the front door while adjusting the hem at the back of her shirt. Bruce hadn’t noticed the outline of a gun before. The reality that danger might be lurking in the trees around his home caused him to squeeze his daughter tighter.

He picked up the duffel bag and adjusted his hold in such a way that the bag mostly hid Winnie from sight. Delaney nodded in approval. “We’ll have you and your daughter covered the whole way, but it’s good to be cautious all the same.” She jutted her chin toward him. “I need you to leave all phones, laptops and tablets here.”

He’d anticipated as much after the phone message, but he had clung to a thin hope that going entirely off the grid wouldn’t be necessary. He set all three of the items she’d listed, along with chargers, on the couch, but she didn’t give him a chance to think further on the matter.

“Someone will be by to pick up your phone. Hopefully we can trace that message.” She waved a hand toward the front door. “It’s time.” She stepped outside and Bruce held Winnie tight as he followed.

Two officers flanked them, walking beside them all the way to the back of a blue Ford Focus. A police officer had apparently already retrieved the car seat from Bruce’s Ram truck in the garage and installed it in the compact four-seater.

He ducked his head to squeeze inside and began buckling in Winnie. The door closed behind him and Delaney hopped into the driver’s seat. “Ready?”

He snapped his own seat belt on. “Ready. I have to say, I didn’t realize the Marshals were so interested in saving gas.”

From the rearview mirror, he could see a lovely pink shade cross her cheeks. “It’s actually my rental car. I just transferred back to the area. An official vehicle will arrive for our use at the safe house.” She pulled away from the curve of the roundabout and drove out of the neighborhood.

Winnie kicked her feet and released a high-pitched whine. Bruce leaned over and examined the harnesses to see if anything was pinching her. “What’s wrong?”

She said nothing but pursed her little lips and frowned at her shoes as she kicked rapidly again. Maybe her socks were bothering her. He had shoved her into the shoes pretty fast without making sure the seams were correct. He reached and tugged a bit on the cuffs. “Better?”

She stared at the shoes for another second before she nodded. He leaned against the seat. If only all of his problems were as easily solved as shoe discomfort. How was he going to manage staying in a safe house? Was he allowed to ask where the safe house was located or were questions like that frowned upon? Bruce wasn’t accustomed to looking or feeling foolish or uninformed. He took great pride in researching every opportunity or purchase beforehand so that he always knew what he was getting into. It applied to his personal life, too, meaning his car was always stocked with extreme-weather gear, his house never lacked flashlights and extra batteries, and he never left the house with his daughter without bringing a bag full of snacks, toys and extra clothes.

Right now, though, all his emergency preparedness kits meant nothing. Instead, he was asked to rely on a woman he knew nothing about. “So you just moved back to the area?” he asked. “Maybe we did know each other at one point.” He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about the way she moved or maybe her facial expressions...

“I used to work in the Ames Police Department, but it’s been almost three years since I was on active duty. I suppose it’s possible you saw me on patrol.”

He leaned back in the vinyl seat, the top of his head almost brushing the fabric above him. He never recalled a police officer making enough of an impression on him to remember their face, especially three years later. She’d made a point of saying active duty—did that mean she spent some time off duty but still an officer? What reasons could there be aside from health issues or a suspension? “Are you new to the Marshals?” Please say no.

“No. I’ve been working in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.”

That didn’t exactly make him feel better about her qualifications and experience. How many serious crimes could’ve happened in the Potato State? “Doesn’t Idaho have more trees than people?”

She laughed. “Not sure about that. Definitely more cattle than people, but the same could be said for Iowa.”

Fair point. “And pigs.”

Delaney took a sharp turn around a corner and his daughter giggled. A lyrical laugh escaped Delaney before she pressed her lips together in a stern line. Bruce stared at the rearview mirror and tried to make sense of the woman. Did she like children or not? Perhaps it wasn’t professional to appear happy when you were guarding people in danger.

She pulled up in front of an aging pink farmhouse. It was in the middle of nowhere—cut off from everything he was used to. Bruce purposefully lived his life focusing on the positive, but the bright side proved difficult to find at the moment. The loss of contact with his company and his employees hit him squarely in the chest. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to remain quiet until they stepped inside the dimly lit, musty-smelling house. He certainly hadn’t expected luxury, but he’d hoped for a place comfortable enough that he could present it to his daughter as an adventure—a holiday. It would be downright impossible to imagine they were on vacation here. Delaney closed the door behind them and flicked on the light.

“How long is this supposed to last?” Almost all of his employees had families, and Bruce felt responsible for their financial stability. He already had to forgo the sales meeting Monday that could’ve provided millions in revenue. If the company failed in his absence, their livelihoods would be threatened. It wasn’t as if he had a bunch of investors lined up to keep them afloat.

She bit her lip. “I can’t really—”

“Please.”

Her long brown ponytail swung to the left then the right as she looked around the room. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. “There are no guarantees, but there is the hope that this will only last until the trial.”

“Which will be when?”

“I can’t say. It usually takes two weeks to get the Marshals involved in a case. The fact that I’m here on the same day should tell you how important it is to the federal government to handle this matter swiftly.”

Bruce’s legs suddenly felt weak. He sat down on an ugly yellow-and-brown-striped love seat. Winnie climbed onto his lap. “Are you telling me we’re being put into WITSEC?”

“No. At least, not right now. It’s not off the table, though.” A knock sounded on the door. She pulled out her weapon and peeked through an eyehole. “Friendly,” she said softly as she reholstered the gun and opened the door.

The police officer on the porch reported a clear perimeter. “We got your stuff out of the trunk like you asked.” He handed her a bright blue bag with the Marshals logo on the side. She set it down next to the couch, unzipped it and retrieved a laptop.

“I thought electronics were frowned upon,” Bruce commented.

“The Marshals make sure we use only the most secure devices.”

So did he. It was tempting to argue with her, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt that she knew what she was talking about. Delaney sat down next to him on the couch, and Winnie reached her arms out for her.

He’d never seen his daughter act so forward, and he’d never seen a woman bolt so fast. Delaney popped up and moved to a wooden chair across the room. “I can probably type better over here.”

Bruce wasn’t so much offended as perplexed. Winnie didn’t have a cold at the moment so it couldn’t have been a germ-related phobia.

Delaney typed rapidly on her keyboard. “I’m afraid I need to get a few questions out of the way to provide the best protection possible. Do you have any loved ones in town?”

“Besides my daughter? No.”

“What about your parents?”

He sighed. If only. “My mom remarried and retired in Arizona. My dad died when I was young.”

Her gaze snapped up as if to comment but instead she returned to typing. “Your case file says you have a stepbrother.”

Wow. They were going to hit on every sore point of his life in one swoop. This was going to be more fun than a visit to the doctor. “Trevor Schultz. He’s also my former business partner. He asked me to buy him out six months ago. Last I heard he was catching rays in the Cayman Islands.”

“I see you divorced over a year ago. Know the location of your ex-wife?”

“No.”

Delaney stared at the screen for a bit before she looked back up. “Listen, I know this is hard. I really do. But I need to find out if there are any weaknesses someone might exploit to get to you.”

If there was one thing Bruce had learned over the past couple of years, it was how to spot sincerity. He could see Delaney’s genuineness. She hated asking the personal questions as much as he hated answering them.

He leaned over and pulled out Winnie’s favorite pop-up book from the duffel bag, hoping it would keep his daughter distracted. “Shannon left over a year ago. She...” He let his voice trail off because he wasn’t sure how to explain. Shannon had thought Bruce became boring after they got married. She’d wanted to live in Silicon Valley instead of the Silicon Prairie. She’d said she wasn’t cut out to be a mother, but only brought that up after they had adopted a baby. He couldn’t see a reason the Marshals would need to know all of those things. “Shannon left me for another man,” he finally said. “I didn’t ask who, and I honestly don’t know where she landed.”

Delaney’s gaze flickered to Winnie and back.

“I have full custody.” The fact was that Shannon didn’t want anything to do with Winnie, something Bruce still couldn’t understand.

Delaney twirled a strand of hair from her ponytail as she stared at the computer screen. It was a cute gesture that he doubted she did consciously. “How well did you know Andy Williamson before he was hired?” she asked.

“Not at all. In fact, Trevor hired him. He ran the daily operations of the company and had the final word in all marketing and HR matters. I took care of the product development.”

“Did you socialize with Mr. Williamson after work hours—or speak to him about your own social behaviors? Any hobbies, activities or locations you frequent that he might have known about?”

“I don’t do any socializing with my staff, and aside from the office, church and day care, no other recurrent locations.” He used to have personal goals, aspirations...friends, even. There were more important things in life now.

Delaney blew out a breath as if gearing up for another onslaught of questions. “Dating?”

“No.” It wasn’t a ridiculous question. He’d thought about dating before, but how could he risk bringing another woman into Winnie’s life after what had happened with Shannon? He didn’t have the best track record at picking trustworthy people.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard. “What about the gym?”

He raised an eyebrow. “The gym?”

Delaney glanced at his arms before staring wide-eyed at her screen as if berating herself for looking at him. A fiery red began at her neck and worked its way upward. Bruce fought a grin, though he’d admit building muscle came relatively easy as long as he had time for strength work. “I have a jogging stroller. Otherwise, I work out with weights at home.”

Delaney closed the laptop without comment and avoided looking in his direction. “I think I’ll check in with the team and see how close they are to arriving.” She strode in and out of the bedrooms located on each side of the living room. “It looks like we need a portable crib, and I imagine you’re getting hungry.” She put her hands on her hips. “How about I have someone pick up some barbecue?”

Bruce didn’t eat out often. He liked real food and found cooking relaxing. Besides, he hated to spend the money on restaurants if it was something he could cook, but the suggestion made his stomach growl. “If you know a place that’s good.”

She leveled him with a look that said “Trust me.”

He answered the unspoken challenge. “I’m placing our safety in your hands. Obviously, I’m willing to trust you to pick the food.”

Her bravado faded and her long eyelashes fluttered. She straightened as if bolstered with a new thought. “You won’t regret it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bruce felt certain neither one of them was thinking about the food anymore. She strode to the back door, one hand on her weapon and one hand on her phone.

He closed his eyes and nuzzled the top of Winnie’s head as he prayed that, for once, he’d placed his trust in the right person.

* * *

Monday morning, Delaney pumped her arms in rhythm as she ran around the block. The weekend had been torture. She’d been assigned to protect the most handsome man and the cutest little girl on the planet. Every time Winnie smiled it felt like a vise around Delaney’s heart, reminding her that she could’ve been a mother if only she’d gotten her life back together a little sooner. And Bruce...

Everyone liked Bruce. He stayed remarkably positive about their time cooped up in the house. He made comical faces to keep Winnie laughing and took turns playing two of the deputies in a game of Scrabble while the third was on patrol. He provided a list of groceries and made the most delicious stir-fry she’d ever tasted. In her line of work, often the witnesses had their own seedy, criminal pasts. While she appreciated their willingness to testify, it often stemmed from wanting to make a deal for themselves rather than from any genuine sense of public responsibility. But Bruce was a hardworking, upstanding...

She couldn’t even let herself think about it or she’d start wishing for what she couldn’t have. Deputy Marshal Francine Jackson and Deputy Marshal Jim Lewis were guarding Bruce and Winnie while she took an early morning run. It gave her a chance to clear her head and work out, but more important, to get a feel for the neighborhood and potential risk areas. Her phone buzzed and she slowed to a walk to answer. “Deputy Marshal Delaney Pat—”

“Delaney?” The male’s voice shook on the line. “I, uh... I didn’t expect to be talking to you.”

“And this is?”

“Harvey Jeppsen.”

An awkward silence followed. Harvey Jeppsen had been her lawyer for the private adoption. He’d been there with her in the hospital room when she’d signed away her legal rights to her baby. He’d listened to her sobs before and after. Why was he calling?

“I was told this is the number to contact my client, Mr. Walker. Are you the marshal in charge?” His voice held a hint of disbelief.

Her shoulders dropped. “Yes. I’m afraid he’s not able to talk right now. I can have him reach you in thirty minutes.”

“No matter. I just received word he’ll be at a pretrial interview later this afternoon with the US Attorney’s Office. Please tell him I’ll meet him there.”

Delaney didn’t confirm or deny, but she hung up only to get another call from the US Attorney’s Office with the same information. It was last-minute, but in a case like this, that didn’t surprise her. She jogged back to the safe house to start preparing for the trip. At least a brand-new black SUV with all the bells and whistles had arrived.

She imagined Bruce would be pleased with some forward motion on the case. It’d do him good to get out of the safe house for a bit. Maybe it would make him smile the way he had when... She cut the thought off abruptly. There she went again, thinking about his future facial expressions. The infatuation needed to be nipped in the bud. She lengthened her stride and reached the house in record time.

Thirty minutes later, she was showered, dressed and ready. “We probably should get going. I like to be extra early to allow time for contingencies.”

Bruce frowned. He hadn’t responded the way she’d expected. In fact, he seemed to be unhappy about going at all. “Any chance we can bring Winnie?”

“No.” She didn’t mean to snap. “Francine will stay here and take great care of her.” Francine had fallen head over heels for Winnie. Unfortunately, Winnie acted as if she was set on making Delaney do the same. If she allowed herself to soften, she feared she’d be ruined when the case ended, devastated that she couldn’t hold and snuggle her own little girl. “It will be a fast trip,” she added.

A knock at the front door signaled it was time to go. The US Marshals had sent a fourth deputy to join in the transport. Bruce scratched his forehead. “Let me just put her down for her nap time.”

Bruce picked up Winnie and kissed her little porcelain cheek. He started singing a song, tones so quiet and low that Delaney strained to hear it, but the concert wasn’t for her. He disappeared into a side bedroom. A moment later he came out with a video baby monitor and handed it to Francine.

“Okay, she’s singing to her stuffed animal, which means she should fall asleep soon. You have a way to reach me if I’m needed?”

Francine nodded. “Of course.”

Delaney could see the uncertainty building in his eyes. “We have to go. Now,” she said. Tag teaming with the deputy outside, she led Bruce to the door of the black SUV. They all wore plainclothes, which typically meant a polo shirt and pants, so as not to draw attention, but they didn’t compare colors ahead of time. Unfortunately, the other marshals had all decided to go with navy blue, just as she had. If they needed somewhere to hide along the way, they could blend in at Best Buy.

A silver SUV was in front and a navy SUV was behind them. They would accompany her and Bruce to the federal building in Des Moines. She knew the route well enough to skip the GPS. “An hour’s drive on I-35. I noticed they’ve widened the freeway since I’ve last been here. Should be smooth sailing.”

She started the car and they drove in silence. A few minutes later, she merged onto the freeway. The other deputies spread out, so as not to be an obvious caravan, but they communicated their movements on the radio attached to the right of her steering wheel.

Much like a dentist was trained to watch for tense patients, she noticed Bruce’s fingers gripping the sides of the leather seat and dug for something to say to distract him. “How long have you lived in Ames?” she asked. A small part of her wanted an excuse to ask how long Harvey Jeppsen had been his lawyer.

The brake lights flashed on the car in front of her. Delaney stepped on her own brakes and nothing happened. She shoved harder and the pedal went down to the floor, but their speed remained the same.

“What’s happening?”

She couldn’t answer because she wasn’t sure herself, but the distance between the SUV and the car in front was rapidly decreasing. She slid into Neutral and pulled on the parking brake. The speed remained the same.

She glanced in the side mirror and maneuvered into the small spot between two cars. The radio crackled with questions, but she ignored them because the wagon in front of her wasn’t going fast enough. She swerved onto the shoulder, almost clipping the car full of oblivious teenagers.

“One more inch and we would’ve hit. Sign says shoulder closed. Why are you doing this? Is there someone after us?” Bruce checked the side mirror.

She grabbed the radio with her right hand. “Brakes are out. Taking next exit.” She dropped the radio as she used both hands to take the ramp, hoping the sharp curve to the right would slow them down or at least offer an empty pasture. “I can’t talk now,” she told Bruce.

The radio crackled. “Affirmative. We couldn’t make that exit in time. Will take the next one and join you. No suspicious activity?”

“I think the brakes going out is suspicious enough,” Bruce muttered. He leaned as far forward as he could and looked out the window. “There is a road to the left that’s pretty unpopulated. Think you can make it?”

“We don’t have much choice.”

The grade sloped and the SUV’s speed increased. She pressed the brake hard out of habit. Her head lurched forward and backward as the SUV abruptly slowed. She pressed the brake pedal again to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. “The brakes are working again.”

Bruce put his hand on the back of his neck. “Were you just not pressing hard enough?”

She bit back a retort and turned on her left signal. “It’s safe to say that this SUV isn’t as reliable as we’d like.” They passed a gas station on the right. There was nothing but farmland on either side of the little-used highway. She tested the brakes again. Would the rest of the marshals think the whole event was the result of human error, as Bruce did? The vehicle jerked forward and a horrible grinding noise came from the hood. All the dials on the dashboard fell to zero as the motor went silent.

“The engine died?” Bruce shook his head. “Unbelievable. This isn’t stick shift, is it? You didn’t—” The rest of his words died on his lips.

Delaney followed his gaze, and her chest seized. A pickup truck full of masked men rounded the corner with guns pointed at their SUV.

“Get down!” Bruce gave her shoulder a push. While the gesture was noble, she was supposed to be the one protecting him. She turned her head to see he’d followed his own advice as she readied her gun. Rapid pings hit the windshield, side doors and side mirrors.

“You okay?” Bruce asked. He remained hunched over, his forehead touching the glove compartment.

While the SUV was supposed to be bulletproof, she didn’t want to take chances. “Yes. Stay down.” The shots had stopped so she jumped out and took aim at the retreating vehicle, trying to read the license plate, but, of course, there was none. Not another vehicle could be seen for a mile in either direction. Where was her team? She kicked at a rock on the road and climbed back into the SUV.

While Bruce’s face had lost its color, he didn’t look injured. His hand shook ever so slightly as he pointed to the GPS. The blue screen had a message in the middle. Final Warning. Open your mouth and your family dies.

THREE

Bruce placed a hand on either side of his face. “It’s been hacked.”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What are you talking about?”

He blinked and tried to slow down the torrent of emotions and thoughts so he could communicate rationally. “This vehicle has been hacked. The brakes, the engine dying, the message on the GPS... Those things can be controlled remotely if someone knows our location. They were playing with us. My daughter—” He pulled in a shaky breath. They’d only been gone from the safe house for five minutes. If someone had been tracking them in the vehicle, then it was likely the hacker knew their point of origin.

Her eyes widened. “The safe house. You’re saying the attackers know where it is.” She picked up the handset. “We’ve been compromised. I need a new vehicle, stat. Where are you guys?”

The speakers crackled in response. “You’re not going to believe it. Our engines died the moment we got off the highway.”

“Both of them?” Delaney took a deep breath while she checked all three mirrors. Bruce followed her gaze. So far the gunmen hadn’t returned. “They set us up.” Delaney pulled out her cell phone and dialed the police for backup. After the call was completed, she sat back, shaking her head. “I don’t understand how this could be happening.”

“Newer cars have a few different ways hackers can access control. If this one has a tire sensor, that’s the simplest way to hack into the brakes and disable the engine.” He waved toward the hood of the car. Talking about practical matters wasn’t helping his heart rate. If he thought he could get back faster on his own, he’d try to run back to Winnie on foot. “I need to know Winnie is okay. I need to know now.”

“There are two deputy marshals watching over her. I’m sure Winnie is safer than we are at the moment. It’s safer if we don’t make direct contact.” She clicked the radio. “I need a status report from Deputy Marshal Jackson. Use back channels.”

They sat in tense silence for the longest thirty seconds of his life before the radio crackled. “No response as of yet,” the deputies from the other SUV answered. “Backup units on the way from Des Moines.”

Bruce tightened his fists. “From Des Moines?” He couldn’t wait an hour to find out if his daughter was safe or in the hands of dangerous criminals.

“Bruce, you’ve been great so far. Look at me.”

Bruce swiveled and stared into Delaney’s eyes, searching for answers.

She touched his arm. “We aren’t waiting around. The police will be here in one minute. Sometimes back channels take longer to get an answer. We can’t jump to conclusions.”

Bruce exhaled, but his insides wouldn’t stop vibrating. Winnie was his all, his everything. She had stolen his heart from the moment he held her tiny form in his arms.

As promised, a police cruiser pulled up, but Delaney wouldn’t let him step out of the SUV yet. She kept her hand on her weapon as she approached the vehicle, likely checking the officer’s identification. Every moment of procedural caution made him want to jump out of his skin, but if he complained or fought it, he would just cause more delay. Lord, please, just get me to Winnie. Keep her safe.

He opened his eyes as Delaney opened the door. “I’m afraid the back seat of a police car isn’t very comfortable.”

He grunted and walked behind her to the unit. He’d walk on glass if it’d get him to his daughter faster. Bruce slipped into the back seat. Delaney slammed the door and joined the cop in the front.

“No sirens, but get to this address as fast as possible,” Delaney said.

The officer didn’t hesitate to punch the gas. Bruce slid across the plastic bucket seats and grasped the seat belt with one hand during the U-turn. At least Delaney was taking the threat seriously. At this rate, they really would be back to the safe house quickly.

“Uh, how are you doing?” the policeman asked Delaney. “We’ve missed you on the force.”

Even from the back seat, the look Delaney shot the other officer seemed made of ice. “I’m fine.”

“We miss Raymond, too, you know,” the officer said.

She nodded but didn’t reply. Bruce wondered if the words that hinted at tragedy explained her aloof demeanor toward him and Winnie. Not that it really mattered. He didn’t need Delaney to care about him and his daughter—he just needed her to protect them, as she’d said she would. But was that a promise she’d keep? Words didn’t mean much compared to action.

His wife had promised so much, but she still left him and Winnie without a second glance. His stepbrother had written his company’s mission statement and promised to be his partner, but he’d quit and run to the Cayman Islands six months ago. No, promises really didn’t mean much.

Delaney turned in her seat to face him, an impressive feat given the high-speed turns. “The Marshals are alerting the Assistant US Attorney to what’s happened. The interview will be rescheduled.”

“I can’t even think of testifying at the moment.”

“So don’t think about it. For now.”

The radio crackled but Bruce couldn’t make out what was said.

“Did something happen?”

“Not necessarily. Deputy Marshal Jackson still hasn’t checked in, so we’re going to proceed with caution.” Delaney pointed to the left, and the cruiser stopped at the sun-bleached pink house. The last two days had felt like a living nightmare. He’d worked so hard to maintain a positive attitude and believe that everything would work out, only to walk straight into a trap.

“Stay here,” Delaney hollered. She jumped out of the vehicle at the same time as the officer.

“That’s not happening.” Bruce reached for the car handle but found there was none. He pounded the seat in frustration. Another police vehicle pulled up at the opposite street corner, and two more cops rushed toward the house.

Delaney held her weapon up and gestured at the other officers to go around the building. A male voice shouted, “Officer down,” and Bruce groaned. Someone had definitely found the safe house. Please, let Winnie be okay. He searched desperately for another way out of the police vehicle, but there was nothing to do but watch.

Delaney squatted low to the ground and entered the house. Bruce strained his eyes, hoping he could somehow see past the house’s grimy windows and blinds. Sirens sounded in the distance. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t let himself blink. He should be inside there, protecting his daughter.

An officer sauntered toward the cruiser that was holding him prisoner. Bruce clenched his jaw, wanting to yell at him to speed up. The officer reached his hand out and the door trapping him in the back seat finally swung open.

“The Deputy Marsh—”

Bruce vaulted out of the car into a sprint, past the officer. He vaguely heard the man shout but didn’t care what was being said. Right now, the only thing that mattered was Winnie. An ambulance siren’s wail grew closer.

He barreled into the house, squinting in the dim light. Another deputy, Francine, was on the ground, limp but conscious. A cop held her wrist while looking at his watch to count her pulse.

Delaney stepped out of a bedroom. Her arms cradled Winnie, her head bent over his daughter, as if in a cuddle. Bruce’s insides fought between icy cold and raging heat at the sight.

She glided forward, her steps soft and rhythmic, across the room, whispering, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” One of Winnie’s arms wrapped around the back of Delaney’s neck while the other clung tightly to Lovey. “Winnie, your daddy is here.”

Winnie lifted her head and twisted to look. She blinked twice and smiled at Bruce, then rested her head back on Delaney’s chest.

“She was still sleeping,” Delaney whispered. “Had no idea anything happened.” Her eyes glistened with a layer of unshed tears and once again Bruce didn’t know what to think or feel about this mysterious woman.

He reached for Winnie. His daughter, almost reluctantly, let go of Delaney and curled up against his chest. “Honey, are you okay?”

She nodded and rubbed the remaining aftereffects of sleep away.

Delaney stepped closer. “Someone got the jump on them. Knocked out the marshals but didn’t touch Winnie.”

Bruce crumpled onto the couch. He hung his head over Winnie’s shoulder and, despite the determination to stay calm, his chest shook and his breath caught. He could’ve lost her. He so easily could’ve lost her.

Winnie tilted her chin and Bruce stared into her blue eyes and reined in control. Was there a way he could give up and keep her safe? If he didn’t testify, would the threat disappear?

“I appreciate that you stayed calm today,” Delaney said.

He didn’t look up. He couldn’t yet. “If you lock me in the back of a car again...” He let his voice trail off, unwilling to voice exactly what he was thinking in front of his daughter, but hoping his tone conveyed what he meant. He wouldn’t let her keep him away from Winnie again.

But even by his side, could he keep his little girl safe? Could he ever take Winnie with him on a jog and count dogs in the neighborhood without flinching at every car that rounded the corner? Would they be able to return home and step out onto the deck to watch fireflies without him shining a spotlight on every tree that surrounded the property first?

The image of the men with guns shooting bullets into the SUV played on a loop. His blood pounded hot and fast through his veins. Giving in would only provide the illusion of safety. They would still be out there, watching. They could treat him, his daughter and anyone else like puppets whenever they wanted. Good men like Max would still die at their hands.

The rage continued to build behind his eyes. He would do whatever it took to put a stop to them. He slowly met Delaney’s gaze. “How do we end this?”

* * *

Delaney’s mouth went dry at his question. Winnie clutched her Lovey in one hand while her other hand twirled a lock of hair. Delaney did that whenever she was stressed or bored, too. Was that common in toddlers? Movement to the right caught her attention.

Two paramedics filled the doorway. The taller one nodded at Delaney. “We’ve got one of the deputies ready for transport.”

She supplied his name. “Deputy Jim Lewis.”

The medic pointed to Francine. “We can take you on that ambulance, too, ma’am. In the meantime, anyone else we need to look at?”

Francine flicked her wrist. “I don’t need it. I’m going to be fine.”

“Wait,” Delaney said. “You might not need an ambulance, but we do.” She held up a hand to stop the concerned paramedics. “I don’t mean we’re injured. For logistic reasons, I need you to hang back for a second.”

Delaney pointed at Bruce. “Right now the main priority is to get you somewhere safe without being tracked. You said hackers can follow our vehicles if they know the point of origin, so we need to make sure they think we’re still here. At least for a little while.” She felt a pressure on her chest and realized she’d kept a hand over her heart, in the place where Winnie had rested her head moments ago.

“What do you have in mind?” Francine asked. She accepted an ice pack from the paramedic and rested it on the back of her head.

“Bruce and Winnie will take your place on the stretcher, covered up.” She squatted slightly to meet the toddler’s eyes. “Can you be real still next to your daddy and pretend you’re sleeping?”

Winnie pulled her left shoulder up until it met her ear in a cute shrug. “No.” She smiled, but her eyes made it clear she had no intention of cooperating.

Well. There went that idea, replaced with a sizable dose of reality. Delaney knew nothing about children.

Bruce patted Winnie’s knee. “You don’t have to take a nap again,” he said. “How about we play hide-and-seek together and wait for Delaney to find us? Those men are going to sneak us out, like a fun ride.”

Winnie’s eyes widened and she bounced up and down. “Okay.”

The side of Bruce’s mouth curved. “It’s all in the delivery.”

Francine laughed, a welcome distraction and a comfort. She probably wouldn’t have laughed if she was seriously injured, but Delaney would make sure she was examined anyway.

“Francine, I need you to stay back here for a good twenty minutes. When it’s time to leave, tuck your hair up into a ball cap and wear Bruce’s suit jacket.” Delaney turned to ask the man in question. “Do you mind?”

“It’ll be too big on her, but no, I don’t mind.”

Francine was a tall woman, equal to Bruce’s height, but she had a slender build. “I know. It won’t be enough to fool anyone at close examination, but if anyone’s watching from a distance, it should at least give them pause.” She pointed at the police officer waiting next to her. “It would help the Marshals a great deal if you’d wait here a bit, then take Francine to the station. I’ll have another deputy meet her there and take her to the hospital to be examined.”

Francine rolled her eyes. “I told you I’m fine—”

“I need you back on the team as soon as possible,” Delaney answered. According to Marshal Bradford, Francine was the only deputy who had experience with children. “That means you need to get cleared for duty.”

“I’d like to apologize in advance.” Bruce stood up, Winnie in his arms, to head over to the stretcher. “I’m not a lightweight man.”

The paramedic to the left laughed. “Don’t worry. The stretcher pops up and has wheels. Besides, we’ve carried heavier. You ready for your ride, sweetie?”

Delaney stilled, unable to look away. Was this the right decision? The paramedics joked around with Winnie as Bruce got situated first on the gurney.

She was up against clever hunters. As soon as word got out that Bruce wasn’t backing out of testifying, the hacking group would be after them again. What would Kurt do? The question popped into her mind easily, as it always did whenever she faced a crisis in her work. Her previous boss and mentor from Coeur d’Alene, Kurt had taught her more than her time in both the police academy and marshal training. He’d showed her when it served best to think outside of the box, to harness empathy and to understand what the enemy would do next to get a jump on them. He also sought God’s wisdom for the big decisions.

Her throat hurt from the stress. I don’t have time to wait to hear from You, Lord. I’m asking for Your wisdom and if I’m going the wrong way I need a giant “no” from You right about now.

“Let’s hide, Daddy.” Winnie turned to Delaney and smiled. “You gotta find us.” She grabbed the edge of the thin white blanket and pulled it over herself as she curled up in the crook of Bruce’s arm.

The paramedics placed a mammoth-sized towel on Bruce’s forehead, effectively covering up his face and hair. It didn’t make him look like Francine, but it might do the trick. Delaney grabbed her US Marshals jacket and placed it on top of him. If anyone was watching, hopefully it would seem another marshal was heading for the ambulance after the attack.

“Okay, stay real quiet. We’re going on a ride and don’t want Delaney to find us yet,” Bruce said.

“I think that’s our cue.” The paramedic at the helm kicked off the brakes. Delaney kept her head up as she jogged beside them. No cars were in sight and nobody hid in any of the trees. The houses were spread out and all had curtains or blinds down to help keep out the high-noon heat. But who knew what resources a group of hackers had to watch wherever they wanted? There could be eyes on them right now. The thought sent a shiver up her spine.

A toddler-shaped lump on Bruce’s side wiggled and giggled. Thankfully they’d reached the back of the ambulance. The paramedics shoved the gurney up the silver ramp into the ambulance.

Deputy Jim Lewis had a seat on a gray bench with an ice pack on the back of his head. “I don’t know how they got a jump on me.” His eyes implored her to understand. “I’ll be more cautious now, you can count on that. You’re the lead. You can waive procedure and tell me I don’t have to get checked for a knock on the head so I can get back to work.”

“Not a chance.” She took a seat beside him as the doors closed behind them. “You’re staying right here in this ambulance, because I’m going to need you in a moment.”

One paramedic sat on the opposite side of the stretcher as the ambulance began to move. Winnie flung down the sheet and popped upright. “Find me.” As fast as she’d appeared, she vanished with giggles. “Daddy, you hide, too.”

“It’s definitely time for you to find us.” Bruce’s muffled voice came from underneath the sheet that now covered his face.

Delaney’s chest seized, as if a hard, protective layer around her heart was being ripped apart, one tiny square at a time. The paramedic and Jim watched her with anticipation. She leaned forward and pulled back the blanket to find Winnie’s wide eyes. “Found you,” she said softly.

Winnie twisted so her face smashed against Bruce’s side, but the little girl’s laughter would not be contained and proved contagious to the other occupants of the ambulance.

The paramedic beamed and leaned back into his seat. “I tell you what, young lady. We don’t usually have a lot of laughter in the back of this vehicle. Would make my job a lot easier if we did.” He leveled a pointed look at Delaney. “We’re almost to the hospital if you need to arrange a ride.”

“Of course.” She pulled out her phone. “Jim, I need you to switch places with Bruce.”

Jim began to object.

“You’re taking his place as an added precaution, so we can slip away unnoticed. Bruce, put on the marshal’s hat.”

Bruce sat up and tried to hand Winnie to her. She froze until the little girl reached out her arms. Delaney’s back tensed but she reached forward and took Winnie. It wasn’t a big deal to hold the little girl so the men could switch positions without kicking someone in the head. Logically, she knew that.

It felt dangerous, though. It was becoming harder and harder not to think about her own daughter out there somewhere. Delaney had a little over fifteen years left before she could ask for the sealed adoption records to be opened.

“Let’s play hide again,” Winnie said.

“Maybe after we’re in the hotel, okay?” A hotel wasn’t ideal, as it required a lot more manpower to adequately protect a witness, but she didn’t have another safe house arranged in town. The less they had to travel, the better.

She dialed the chief deputy’s number and hoped the second team on the way had an extra vehicle for her. Every moment spent in the hospital—the very place where she’d delivered her daughter—would be torture. Even thinking about it, she could smell the phantom aromas of antiseptics and disinfectants. Her scars remembered the tenderness and pain after the emergency surgery. Winnie snuggled closer, and the smell of baby shampoo in her hair shifted Delaney’s focus.

The chief deputy answered, and she wasted no time outlining her plan to keep Bruce and Winnie safe. She held her head high as she spoke and hoped no one could hear the fear and doubt lacing every word.

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