Ellie drove through the largest intersection in town and headed toward Sam’s house. If something didn’t break soon, she’d go crazy, as in running-down-the-street-naked crazy. She and Sam had settled into a rhythm and it’d been working for ten days. But she felt like she was a spring being wound tighter and tighter, and it was only a matter of time before she exploded. God knew where she’d end up when she finally sprung free.
There hadn’t been any more disturbances at the house. No unexplained footprints, no trucks spinning out under the oak tree. Sam had hired a lawn crew to clean up the mess in the backyard and they’d evened out the soil and replaced sections of sod.
She and Sam went on outings together, took the dogs for walks and held hands for the neighbors, and even attended a social function where they’d acted the part of besotted lovers. Then they returned to the house where the barriers went up and they were roommates. Roommates whose mutual attraction was so palpable, it hung in the air.
Which resulted in her being on the brink of crazy.
Being around Sam meant being in a constant state of unrelenting lust.
Her perpetually aroused state wouldn’t be so bad if she had an inkling that Sam reciprocated her feelings, but after the first weekend, the austere Judge Creed had returned. Now, he pretty much ignored her when they were home.
He no longer sat in the front room with her in the evenings, instead closing himself in his office until well after she’d gone upstairs. They still ran together in the mornings, taking a different route every day, but even then conversation was kept to a minimum.
She put on her blinker and glanced in her side mirror and saw the same work van that had followed her out of the grocery store parking lot was still behind her. The van turned left before the bridge. Could be nothing, but she recorded a voice memo on her phone noting the make, model, and time she thought its driver might have started to surveil her.
Once home, she brought the dogs in, set the alarm to “at home,” and got to work on her laptop. Late in the afternoon, she tapped on the meeting app to join the team for a conference call.
Seth started with a general overview of their current status, then each team member gave an update of what they’d learned.
“I’ve interviewed more of the female staff about sexual harassment at the courthouse,” Bella reported, her tone even and devoid of emotion. “The issue seems confined to Gordon Finster. An additional woman has sought to join the other complainants against him. Their case appears solid.
“Finster followed a pattern of staying late into the evening beyond his normal hours when the women were often working alone. He would use the opportunity to take advantage of them sexually. All the women feel indebted to Judge Creed, and believe his support provided them credibility and gave them the courage to make their cases. They are grateful to him.”
Ellie made a conscious effort not to roll her eyes at the overly professional tone her friend adopted, particularly when she was around Seth, which was most of the time. Bella could be warm and fun, and interesting, but put her near authority and she projected all the emotion of a robot.
Ellie got Bella’s reserve, and couldn’t blame her given what she’d been through in her life, but Ellie couldn’t seem to convince her that being a good marshal didn’t mean she had to follow all rules and protocols to the letter. For Bella, rules brought security, though Ellie thought being constantly vigilant and afraid of making a mistake must be exhausting.
“I talked with other staff,” Seth stated. “Not one claimed to be friends with Finster, and most find him obnoxious. He doesn’t have much of a filter. He’s the kind of guy who walks up to people and starts talking to them, but it’s not a conversation. He simply disgorges whatever is on his mind, then moves on. He spewed out the details of his divorce, which apparently got nasty. Sympathy was with his kid for being the bone both parents were fighting over. The only topic he holds back on is his side business selling guns. Few people knew about that.”
“Any rumors of someone on staff having a beef with Sam?” Ellie asked.
“No. He’s well-liked and respected. I got the impression one of the women has a crush on him.”
“Any talk of love interests?” Linc asked. “We haven’t looked at Sam’s romantic background. The threatening emails don’t scream spurned lover, but could be there’s an angry ex with an imagination messing with him. You’d have to be really pissed to duct tape C-four to your ex’s car, but it’s been done. He mention anyone to you, El?”
“No. He must have bought this engagement ring for someone, but he hasn’t been exactly forthcoming.”
Linc looked thoughtful. “I think a woman would be more personal, but a dude might go for explosives. El reported a visit from a close friend who is gay. Could be Creed is too.”
“He’s not,” Ellie said, shaking her head.
“Have you asked him, or whether he has any angry exes?” Linc was sitting back in his chair, brow raised in a look of inquiry that for some reason always annoyed her.
“I haven’t asked, but he’s not gay.”
She should have been more careful because Linc pounced. “And how do you know he’s not gay?”
“Shut up, Linc. I know, okay?”
“Do you have anything for us today, Ellie?”
Grateful for Seth’s rescue, Ellie mentioned the vehicle she thought had followed her. “Right now, I’d give it a fifty percent chance that it wasn’t random and was following me.”
“Anything more on Drew Martin?”
“Sam won’t talk about him. My feeling is that Drew is angry and resentful because he hasn’t made any economic advances in his life. He was counting on inheriting part of the ranch, and Sam is in the way of that. Losing his mother, not inheriting property he felt he deserved, and feeling overshadowed by his successful older brother are all adding up for him. The right-wing groups he identifies with reinforce this idea of injustice.”
“Your analysis is on point,” Seth said. “Joining a militia group would give him a sense of empowerment.”
Ellie nodded. “The feeling that he never fully belonged to the Creed family has led to a nasty mix of anger and bitterness. One appeal of extremist groups is they make you feel like you’ve found your true home. They feed the anger and resentment to pull in the disaffected. If Drew found a place where he feels wanted within the right-wing militia movement, that could be our connection.”
“Agreed,” Seth said.
They concluded their meeting, and Ellie sat in the quiet house watching through the window as the last glow of daylight faded. A glance at her phone to check the time brought a frown. Every day, Sam was home from work shortly after five, and it was already six. She began to text him, then hesitated. Their engagement was fake and checking up on him felt too much like what a girlfriend would do. Which was stupid. She was a marshal, and her job was to protect her fiancé.
She tapped out a text, keeping it to a simple You good? before hitting send.
It took him a couple minutes, but his reply of Fine, home soon worked.
She went to the kitchen with Cleo and Tony following close behind. Getting the hint, she filled their dishes with kibble, then began gathering the ingredients for dinner that she’d purchased that morning at the grocery store.
Twenty minutes later she had a pot gently simmering on the stove. She was reaching for a wineglass when Tony and Cleo both sat up, ears perked. Her first thought was that Sam was home. Finally. But she hadn’t heard the Land Cruiser or seen headlights of the vehicle driving to the back. The security lights on either end of the garage illuminated the area vacant of vehicles, so unless Sam had somehow already parked in the garage without her noticing, it wasn’t him who had alerted the dogs.
Opting for caution, she ran up the back stairs and retrieved her Glock from the gun safe, tucking it into the back waistband of her jeans. Gumbie lay curled up and asleep on Ellie’s bed so she shut the door rather than worrying about the cat getting out while she was looking for possible bad guys. She returned to the kitchen using the back stairs.
In the mudroom, she turned on the lights and opened the back door. The beagles bulleted out, barking furiously as they raced to the back fence. Movement, more of a shifting shadow at the side of the house than anything else, caught her attention. She dashed back inside, leaving the dogs out, flipping off lights as she went through the house so no one could see in.
From the side window of the library, she watched a dark figure leap from the rock wall to blend into the darkness under the low branches of a trio of trees.
Ellie stood still, waiting. After several minutes, she reached for the phone in her back pocket. The shadow moved, quick and furtive. Then the window exploded with a crash and she reeled back as shards of glass flew past her.
She dove for cover behind a couch and a thud sounded as something landed on the floor. Even with her eyelids squeezed shut and instinctively pressing her hands over her ears, she could detect the flash of light and explosive crack of sound.
The siren for the house alarm went off, sounding oddly muted. Ellie grabbed her Glock and rose cautiously to her feet. A quick look showed no fire. Slamming shut the door to the room, she ran for the front door, gun in hand.
The yard was empty, and the porch light on the neighbor’s house came on. She tucked her gun back into the waistband of her jeans. Headlights gleamed through the trees as a vehicle raced up the street, barely slowing to take the turn into the driveway.
Sam’s Land Cruiser skidded to a stop at the walkway and he jumped out of the car and raced toward her. The expression on his face as he ran his hands over her arms and shoulders had the breath backing up in her lungs.
Over the past week she’d decided he was indifferent to her, but now she realized he was a consummate actor. Silver glinted in his eyes as his wide palms reached up to frame her face as his thumbs brushed her cheeks.
“You okay? What the hell happened?”
His voice sounded like it was coming from deep in a well. She shook her head, trying to clear it, not sure if the feeling of disorientation was from the flashbang or the raw fear emanating from Sam.
“I think I’m fine, but I can’t hear very well.”
“Were you attacked?”
“No. Someone was outside by the wall. They threw a flashbang into the house. I ran outside but they were already gone.”
“You could have been seriously hurt.”
His grip tightened as his eyes blazed. This was the first time she’d seen Sam truly angry.
“But I wasn’t.”
“What room was it?”
“The library.”
He nodded. Despite sounding muffled, she could hear the dogs in the back howling at the approaching sirens of three police cars, one arriving right after the other. They parked on the street, the fire truck following them coming up the driveway. The sirens were silenced, leaving circling blue and red lights slicing through the night.
As police officers approached, Sam took off his coat to drape around Ellie’s shoulders. She sighed when he pulled her against his side, and she absorbed his heat like he was her own personal campfire.
“Be better if they didn’t wonder why you’re carrying.”
Oh. Right. Sam’s coat would hide her gun. At least he was thinking sensibly, while she’d been getting all warm and fuzzy feelings because of his apparent concern.
An officer, older than the others and with an extra stripe on the sleeve of his coat, asked them to follow him away from the house.
“Judge Creed.” He nodded to Sam. “Are we looking for an intruder?”
“No. Whoever threw the device through the window took off. It sounds like it was a flashbang.”
The officer relayed the information over his radio. “You in the house when all the fun started?”
Sam shook his head. “I was about two blocks from home when my phone alerted that the house alarm had gone off. Rachel was standing in front when I arrived.”
The officer turned to Ellie. “Miss. I’m Officer Hickman. Had a bit of excitement, haven’t you?” Officer Hickman was probably close to retirement age and had a pleasantly lined face and a comfortable paunch around his middle.
Ellie nodded. “Yes.”
“Can you hear me all right? Flashbangs can cause temporary deafness.”
“My ears are ringing, but I can hear you.”
“Good, good. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“Our EMT is on another call, but someone with the fire crew will get you checked out. We can call an ambulance if you think you need a ride to the hospital.”
“No ambulance.”
Hickman nodded. “We’ll get down to business, then.” He licked a thumb to flip pages in a small notebook. “Let me get your name and whatnot.”
While Ellie gave him the name Rachel Sinclair and other requested information, Sam released his hold on her and stepped away. The chilly breeze had her wrapping his coat more securely around her.
Officer Hickman finished writing her details. “Okay then, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“I was in the kitchen making dinner. Oh,” she turned to find Sam on his phone. “I left soup cooking on the stove.”
Hickman nodded toward the firefighters filing into the house. “They’ll take care of that. Don’t worry.”
“All right.” Ellie took a deep breath, then recounted how the dogs had alerted her, and when she’d let them outside, she’d seen someone by the rock wall. Skipping over how she’d run upstairs for her gun, she described the shattering glass, followed by the flash of light and loud noise.
Hickman nodded. “That’s a flashbang. Good thing your instinct was to cover your ears as much as you did. Can you describe the person you saw?”
“My impression is male, medium height, average weight. He was wearing dark clothing, I think with a beanie low over his forehead and the hood on his sweatshirt pulled over that. I don’t think that helps much.”
“Everything helps,” he assured her.
A firefighter came out of the house and approached them.
“What’s the verdict, Lieutenant?” Hickman asked.
“There was no fire or scorching.” The lieutenant looked at Ellie and Sam, who had returned to her side. “You folks are fortunate about that. Blew out some windows, and you’ve got a few broken knickknacks, but the damage is contained to that room.”
“I left soup cooking on the stove. Did you turn it off?” Ellie asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned to Sam. “You have any plywood? We can board up the windows so you can secure your house until you get the glass replaced.”
Sam dug keys out of his pocket, singling out one before handing it to the firefighter. “I appreciate it. The key is to the garage door, and there’s plywood against the west wall. I want to stay with Rachel.”
Ellie recognized a tall figure walking up from the street. Linc wore his marshal’s star on his belt and no doubt his weapon in a shoulder holster under his leather jacket.
He nodded at Sam. “Judge Creed.”
Sam introduced Linc as the US Marshal assigned to his court. Ellie found it more than a little weird to “meet” her brother as if they were strangers.
“Judge Creed called me to report the incident here at his house. I’ll need to examine the scene.”
Ellie waited for Hickman to put up the customary jurisdictional squabble, but the guy proved affable and waved Linc toward the house.
Once Hickman was done with his questions, he tucked his notebook into his pocket. “Guess you’ll want to take a look at the damage. I’d like to have a look-see at your camera footage.” He nodded to a camera under the eaves. “The deputy marshal will likely have the same request.”
Hickman walked with them into the house now blazing with light. Linc came from the damaged room and met them inside the foyer, holding up two plastic bags so they could see the contents. “This one’s your basic garden-variety rock.” He held up the other bag. “This, however, is a military-grade flashbang device, which can cause a lot of property damage as well as physical harm that includes permanent hearing loss. Miss Sinclair will want to be checked out medically. The rock was thrown first to break the window, and then the flashbang was lobbed in.”
Hickman was called outside, and the second they were alone, Linc’s gaze drilled into Ellie’s. “You good, El?”
“Yeah.”
Sam bent at the waist and glared. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Anger snapped through his words and he tugged her closer to a lamp.
“Sam, stop. I’m fine.”
He held up his hand stained with drying blood. “Then where the fuck did this come from?”