Josie felt the weight of her body being supported partially by the seat belt and partially by Blade. The car was sitting almost upright in the hole, its back wheels off the ground. Detective Sykes seemed to be unconscious, limp and facedown in the inflated air bag.
“Detective!” Josie shouted. “Are you okay?”
No answer.
Josie looked to Blade, panicked. “What do we do?”
Blade maneuvered his body around before unclipping his belt and positioning himself, back-to-back, against the driver’s seat.
“We need to get to safety,” he said. “I saw a spike strip slide across the road, and whoever is responsible will be waiting to attack again.”
There was a loud knocking at the back window and Josie let out a small scream of shock. It was one of the workmen, wearing a yellow hard hat.
“Are you people all right?” he yelled. “Should I call an ambulance?”
Blade pulled the handle of the door and tried to open it, but it was jammed against the side of the hole where they were wedged. He tried the window, but with the engine off, the electrical system wasn’t functioning.
“Yes, call 911!” Blade yelled back. “But can you get us out first?”
The workman held up a hammer, and Blade nodded enthusiastically. He then scooted over to Josie and cradled her head in his arms as the window was smashed with a bang. The man tapped at the glass around the edges, making a safe space through which they could crawl out onto the street.
He leaned into the car and reached out his fingers. “Here. Take my hand.”
Just as she stretched her arm toward him, Blade pulled her back. “I should go first. We don’t know who’s out there.” He glanced at Detective Sykes, who remained still and impassive. “I don’t think we should move her. We don’t know what injuries she has. I’ll get outside and stand guard until the police arrive.”
“But, Blade, you shouldn’t risk…” she started to protest before remembering her apology of only seconds ago. She was backsliding already. “Just stay safe out there.”
He touched her cheek gently. “I will.”
In the next moment, she saw Blade’s legs sail through the window as he was pulled by the man in the hard hat. Once he had planted both feet on the ground, she unclipped her belt and fell forward, supporting herself on the front seats, before twisting into the gap between the driver’s and passenger seats. Then she took a closer look at Detective Sykes, noticing a gash above her right eye. When Josie softly laid a hand on the detective’s back, the older woman groaned and flicked her eyes open.
“Don’t worry,” Josie whispered. “It’s all under control.”
When the detective once again faded into unconsciousness, Josie pressed her hands together and closed her eyes tight. There were so many people who needed the Lord’s protection at that moment, and Josie had faith that He would take care of them all.
It was only when the sound of gunshots rocked the air that she began to have doubts.
* * *
Blade threw himself to the ground behind a car parked at the curb and pulled his gun from its holster. Six of the workmen who had been laying cables in the road ran for their lives, disappearing behind the nearest house. Yet Blade was sure there had been seven workmen. Where was the missing man? He lifted his head and saw one of the workers cowering beneath a tree, hugging it tightly as if his life depended on it. As the shooting ceased, Blade stood up, desperately searching for the attacker, but a volley of bullets forced him to the ground again. He was only about six feet from the stranded SUV, which was protruding from the large hole like a beached whale, awkward and bulky, totally defenseless.
The bullets began to fly once more, unrelenting, coming thick and fast. Blade heard the unmistakable pop of holes opening up in metal, and he was flooded with dread. He was supposed to be protecting Josie. He had promised to act as her bodyguard, yet he was failing. He knew the attacker must be nearby, but he had no idea where.
“Come on, Blade,” he said to himself. “Think.”
That was when his mind returned to the cowering workman under the tree. The bullets seemed to be coming from his direction. Blade dragged himself along the asphalt to get a better vantage point beneath the car that was shielding him. He could see a man in a yellow hard hat holding a gun. This was the shooter, masquerading as a frightened roadside worker.
Blade rolled farther under the car and started firing off rounds in response. The man fell backward, obviously surprised by the sudden show of defense. But he recovered quickly and positioned himself behind the tree to begin a renewed assault. His bullets pounded the asphalt, kicking up grit and dirt, but Blade didn’t let the attack drive him back. He maintained his position, feeling as though he had been transported back in time to his SEAL days, back to a time when he would gladly die for the man by his side. That was exactly how he felt about Josie at that moment. She was the mother of his child, and her life must be protected at all costs.
When his weapon was empty, he frantically pulled at his jacket pocket, trying to find his replacement magazine. It wasn’t there. In the ensuing silence, the shooter took his chance, jumping out from behind the tree and rushing toward Blade, gun at his side. Blade saw a pair of black boots coming ever closer, realizing that he was seconds away from a speeding bullet. He rolled away, patting all his pockets in a desperate search for more ammunition. But he found none. His time was up.
When shots rang out, loud and clear, Blade waited for the stinging pain of a bullet in his flesh. Yet he felt nothing. It was then that he realized the gunshots were coming from inside the SUV. The black boots that had been advancing on him now turned and hurried away, using parked vehicles as shields until he could vault a fence and vanish from sight. Blade scrambled from his horizontal position and bounced to his feet, instinctively raising his weapon even though it was unloaded.
He saw Josie, her body leaning through the window of the SUV, perfectly poised with a gun in her hand. The look on her face was one of pure determination, and when she saw him, her features relaxed into a smile.
“You okay?” she called out.
“Yeah,” he shouted. “Thanks for having my back.” He watched her maintain her strong pose, not lowering her weapon, clearly not taking any chances. “I didn’t know you had a gun.”
She finally brought the weapon to her side when two police cars appeared at the end of the street, sirens blaring. “Public defenders have to be prepared for anything,” she said. “I don’t like to pull my gun, but it’s always there if I need it.” She held up a black rectangular device. It was the replacement magazine for his gun. “And when I saw this on the floor of the car, I figured you might be in trouble.”
He smiled at her, full of admiration for her clear thinking and bravery. She had almost certainly saved his life. Just a few hours ago, they were fighting like cats and dogs, yet now they were successfully working together to overcome the threats bearing down on them. Had they turned a corner at last? Could they now move forward as a more unified force and put their bickering behind them?
Even as these thoughts entered his head, he dismissed them. One experience of cooperation didn’t overcome their differences. It was wishful thinking on his part. There were still plenty of stormy clouds ahead. He was sure of it.
* * *
Josie hung up the phone after speaking with Norman for over an hour. At the scene of the attack, she and Blade had seen Detective Sykes safely into an ambulance. Then they had been driven home by a police officer in an unmarked car, who carefully avoided being followed by taking a long and convoluted route home. But she didn’t mind. Her biggest fear right now was her attacker discovering their safe house. She had begun to wonder whether she had made the right decision in keeping Archie with her. Would her aunt Susan’s house in Nebraska be a safer option after all? She knew Blade would disagree, and she didn’t want to clash with him, but their situation was now too dangerous to ignore. She would have to raise the issue again.
She walked into the living room and sat on the couch opposite Blade and Archie. Archie was doodling on a piece of paper with a pencil, making big sweeping lines, interspersed with words like cool and awesome.
“What you drawing there, honey?” Josie asked, turning her head to see the image the right way up.
Archie swiveled the sketch pad around. “I’m designing some flying shoes,” he said proudly. He pointed to the soles, where crude stink lines had been drawn. “They get their power from manure.”
Josie laughed. It felt strange to find amusement on a day that had been fraught with danger, but she welcomed it.
“Manure?” she asked. “That’s a pretty odd choice of fuel.”
Archie nodded enthusiastically. “I know, but I heard that cows pass a lot of wind, so I figured that their poop is full of gas.” He turned the paper back around to continue sketching. “I think it’s called methane.”
Blade patted his son on the back, chuckling. “That’s right, son,” he said. “But there might be a few flaws in your idea. I’ll help you work on them later.” He looked at Josie, clearly sensing her desire to talk. “Why don’t you go show your invention to Granddad? He’s in the kitchen.”
Archie hopped off the couch and padded across the carpet in his socks. “Okay.”
Once he was in the other room, Blade turned to Josie, waiting for her to speak first.
“Norman is pretty shaken up by what’s happened,” she said. “He feels responsible for being the bait in the attack. This guy would’ve known I’d be likely to visit Norman today, so he lay in wait until I showed up. The police decided to post a twenty-four-hour guard outside Norman’s home, just to be on the safe side.”
Blade knit his fingers together and brought them up to his face, using them like a shelf on which to rest his chin. “Something just doesn’t add up here,” he said. “Whoever wants to punish you for representing Norman doesn’t seem interested in taking vengeance on Norman himself. This guy knows where your client lives, but he’s never made a move to attack him directly. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
This had also been on Josie’s mind. “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing.”
“I have a theory,” said Blade. “Could your attacker be using the trial as a smoke screen?” He shifted on the couch, leaning toward her. “Think about it. There’s a whole heap of negative publicity and angry demonstrations about taxpayer money being used to assist a child abductor who is supposed to have thousands of dollars stashed away. It’s the perfect cover for someone who holds a grudge against you. It totally throws the police off the scent.”
This made sense to Josie. “You could be right.” She closed her eyes, trying to conjure up the image of her attacker’s face. “I assumed that I recognized the man in the baseball hat from the area, but he could be anybody from my past. I’ve defended a lot of nasty characters over the years. Any one of those people could be using Norman’s trial as an opportunity to punish me for failing to secure a not-guilty verdict.”
“Do you remember anyone ever threatening you after they were found guilty?” Blade asked.
She couldn’t stop a shiver snaking down her spine. “Quite a few times, actually. I’ve had clients threaten to destroy my car or burn down my home.” She shrugged her shoulders, trying to shake off the fear that came with the territory of her job. “But the worst threats came from a man who said he would enjoy toying with me and watching me die when he got out of jail. I got the sense that he really meant it.”
This piqued Blade’s interest. “Who was that? Tell me about him.”
Josie cast her mind back. “I represented a guy named Orlando Cardwell three years ago. He was a high-profile investment fund manager, and he had a huge portfolio of wealthy clients across Kansas.” She smiled wryly, remembering the arrogance of the man, his unshakable belief in his own importance. “He was well-known for his glamorous parties and charity functions. But it turned out that he was using his clients’ money to finance his own business ventures and personal expenses. In total, he stole eleven and a half million dollars.”
Blade gave a low whistle through his teeth. “Wow. His parties must have been expensive.”
“He frittered away millions on stocks and shares in companies that subsequently collapsed, and none of his business projects were a success. By the time he was caught he was penniless, living on credit cards and bank loans. It was humiliating for him to have to resort to using a public defender, but he had no choice. All his assets were seized.”
“And you lost the case?”
Josie threw her hands in the air. “Of course I did. The case against him was the tightest I’ve ever known. I strongly advised him to accept a plea bargain, but he was so egotistical, he never dreamed that the jury would see through his lies. It was no surprise that he blamed me for our disastrous defense. He took no responsibility for his own actions at all.”
“The guy attacking you is clinical, ruthless and wants you dead,” Blade said. “And Mr. Cardwell sounds like he would certainly fit the profile.”
Josie folded her arms. This was where Blade’s theory came unglued. “Orlando Cardwell is serving thirty-five years in the Lansing Correctional Facility.”
Blade obviously didn’t see this as a barrier. “If he wanted to get to you, he could use the services of others.”
This didn’t seem likely to Josie. “But he’s been in jail for two years already, and he’s reportedly been a model prisoner. He even offers the other inmates financial advice, crazy as it sounds.”
Blade took a deep breath and rubbed a hand down his stubbly face. “It makes sense to check him out. I’ll ask Detective Pullman to send someone to interview him at Leavenworth.”
Josie sighed. She thought that Blade was grasping at straws. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
He seemed to know how she was feeling. “It’s a process of elimination,” he said. “So let’s come up with a list of suspects and check them out one by one.”
She tried to rally herself. This was the kind of process she had undertaken hundreds of times before, methodically and painstakingly crafting the best defense cases she could build by checking off those with a motive to commit a crime. But her mind and spirit were weak, worn down by the stress of the attacks.
“Sure,” she said with a false smile. “It won’t hurt to try.”
He leaned across the table and picked up a pen and sheet of paper. “Okay. Start from the beginning of your career and name as many people as you can think of who might be crazy enough to want you dead.”
She took a deep breath. This was hard. She didn’t particularly want to be reminded of how wicked and malicious some of her clients had been. She’d defended all kinds of evil people over the years, constantly reminding herself that every citizen was entitled to representation.
As she trawled her memory to come up with the names of all her disgruntled clients, her heart sank further and further in her chest. The list of possibilities grew until they were faced with eight names—eight men who had been convicted of crimes ranging from domestic violence to murder. And all of them blamed their defense counsel for their incarceration.
“I’ll see what I can find out about these criminals,” Blade said, folding the paper and putting it in the pocket of his shirt. “If the local police won’t help, I have a contact in the FBI who can probably pull some records.”
“Thank you, Blade,” she said a little awkwardly. “I appreciate you helping me out like this.”
“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad to do it.”
She glanced toward the kitchen doorway. Now seemed like a good a time as any to raise her concerns about Archie. “In light of what happened today, I’ve been reconsidering Archie’s living arrangements.”
She saw Blade tense up.
“I’m so worried,” she continued. “What if this guy manages to find us here? I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Archie is perfectly safe,” Blade said. “The house is secure with round-the-clock protection, and most importantly, he’s happy. Why fix something that isn’t broken?”
Josie twisted an earring. She had guessed that this would be Blade’s response. After all, he was more willing to take risks with Archie’s personal safety than she was.
“Why wait for something to break before fixing it?” she asked, looking him dead in the eye. The acid taste of fear traveled up her throat as she imagined a gun being pointed at the beautiful blond curls of her sweet child. “If it were up to you, I’m sure Archie would be swinging from the rafters, playing with a chain saw.” It was a wild analogy, but it summed up how she felt.
Blade raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Now, hold on a minute. I know we might have different ideas about what’s best for Archie, but I’d never let him do anything truly dangerous.”
Josie gritted her teeth, trying not to let her words come flying out before considering them.
“I just don’t think you fully comprehend what’s at stake here,” she said quietly. “You’re an ex-SEAL. Staring bad guys in the face is normal to you, but Archie’s a little kid. He’s already witnessed a shoot-out on the street and had a brick thrown through his bedroom window, and who knows what effect that incident might have had on his emotional well-being.”
Blade smiled as if she’d said something ridiculous.
“Archie’s emotional well-being is just fine,” he said calmly. “He’s not worried about the bad guys. He’s worried about how to make flying shoes from cow manure. You can see how happy and content he is. Kids are resilient.”
Josie stood and paced the room, feeling her anxiety levels rise. This conversation wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped.
“I know you think I’m overprotective,” she said defensively. “But I happen to think that you’re a little too relaxed about Archie’s safety. He’s going to stay with my aunt Susan, and that’s final.”
Blade stood to face her. “So my opposition to this plan is irrelevant, huh?”
“Yes,” she said, raising her voice and crossing her arms. “I’m overruling you.”
He shook his head and looked at the floor, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. “You’re overruling me? This isn’t a court of law, Josie. This is a family discussion.”
“How can this be a family discussion?” she asked incredulously. “We’re not a real family. We just happen to share a child together. I’ve been a mother for six years, and you’ve been a father for five days. I know what’s best for Archie.”
Blade’s face crumpled, but he regained composure quickly. “Don’t you trust me to keep our boy safe?” he said, raising his voice. “Is that what all this is about?”
Hot, stinging tears pricked at Josie’s eyelids. She didn’t want to make Blade feel inadequate, but their son’s life might depend on her ability to make decent and rational choices.
“No!” she shouted. “I don’t trust you to keep Archie safe.”
There. She had finally said it.
Her father poked his head out of the kitchen. “Everything okay out here?”
“Sorry, Dad,” Josie said, wiping a tear quickly away from her cheek. “Our discussion got a little heated.”
Tim looked between her and Blade with concern. “Why not take a time-out? Dinner will be ready soon.”
“I’ll go get freshened up,” Josie said, turning and walking from the room, glad to have an opportunity to make her escape. Blade sometimes made her feel stifled, like she couldn’t breathe. Her color had risen and her pulse had quickened, almost the same symptoms as being in love, yet without any of the benefits.
She heard Blade call after her as she ran upstairs. “Josie, can we talk later?”
She didn’t reply. Their relationship had become so complicated. One minute they were working together in perfect harmony, yet in the next they were fighting again. It was exhausting.
But where Archie was concerned, she had no intention of backing down.
* * *
Blade ran harder and faster than he ever had before, pumping his arms rhythmically in time with his legs. The sweat ran through his hair and down his back, and he enjoyed feeling the stress of the day flow from his body. He was angry, frustrated, exasperated and just about ready to throw in the towel. He had just endured an uncomfortable and strained family dinner, with Archie clearly picking up on the tension between his parents. It wasn’t good for a child to be caught in the middle of a disagreement, and they would have to find a way of dealing amicably with their differences of opinion.
Blade knew it would be a difficult process of working himself into Josie’s life, and he’d been prepared for some hiccups along the way, but he wondered if the bumps in the road would ever end. Josie’s earlier apology had been encouraging, giving him hope that she might be prepared to cooperate a little more on parenting. But she had quickly reverted to her old self by placing her views above his. It hurt him deeply to know that she didn’t want to entrust the care of Archie to him. Blade had gotten that message loud and clear. Josie believed herself to be the better parent, and he was consigned to the margins. He knew many divorced dads who had to be content with taking their kids on the occasional day trip, rarely involved in the major decisions of their children’s lives. It was unfair to both the fathers and children.
Blade pushed himself to run even faster. If Josie expected him to be a father in name only, then she was wrong. He had just as much right to be involved in parenting decisions as she did. But he would have to take a soft and gentle approach if he was to make any headway. Being at odds with a successful and driven defense attorney was not something he wanted to continue.
There was no other way to fight this particular battle than with humility. Just like Job, Blade would have to tolerate his sufferings with grace and acceptance. If Job could praise God through all his terrible adversities, then surely Blade could cope with his own problems, which were small in comparison. He had been dealing with his situation with too much hostility, and he vowed to change.
He slowed to a stop and leaned against a tree, catching his breath. The safe house was in sight, its windows glowing with soft light inside. Archie’s room was lit with a yellow lamp, and he imagined Josie inside reading their son a bedtime story while Sherbet chirruped away in the corner. It was the scene of idyllic family life that he had been yearning for, but as Josie had rightly pointed out to him, it wasn’t real.
Still with a heavy heart, he jogged to the front door and knocked four times, rhythmically and lightly, as they had been instructed. Detective Pullman opened up and ushered him inside. His face was somber.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get back,” the detective said. “I need to speak with you and Josie immediately.”
Blade pulled his beanie from his head, feeling steam rising from his curly hair. “What happened?”
“I’d prefer to speak to you together.”
“Okay, I’ll go get her.”
Blade looked up at the closed door of his son’s room. He could hear Josie’s gentle voice rising and falling with the words of a story. This was intermingled with high-pitched giggles from Archie, who was clearly loving the book.
He started to climb the stairs before remembering the earlier accident and turning around. “By the way, how is Detective Sykes?”
“All good. She has a mild concussion, but she’s had a couple of stitches, and she’ll be discharged soon. Unsurprisingly, she wants to get straight back on the job, but for tonight the officer who drove you home from Norman’s house will replace her.”
Blade continued to ascend the stairs, still wearing his running blade. The curved foot bounced on the thick carpet, giving almost soundless movement, and when he gently opened the door to his son’s bedroom, Josie looked up in fright.
“Hey,” she said with relief. “You startled me.”
Archie, wearing pajamas patterned with all kinds of trains, jumped out of bed and gazed, openmouthed, at his father’s prosthesis. This was the first time he’d ever seen it attached to Blade’s leg.
“Wow!” he exclaimed. “You look like a robot. Can I try it on?”
Blade laughed and sat on a chair in the corner of the room, next to Sherbet’s cage, which was covered by a sheet.
“It would be a little big on you, I think,” Blade said. “But you can take a look if you like.”
Archie raced to his father and dived to the carpet, running his eyes up and down the prosthesis, seemingly transfixed.
Blade tapped the false limb with his finger. “This is made from the same type of stuff used to make baseball bats and bicycles. It’s really strong.” He stood and bounced up and down. “See?”
“Did you make it yourself?” Archie asked, rubbing at the carbon fiber with his finger.
“Oh, no,” Blade replied. “Some very smart people made this especially for me, and it cost a lot of money.”
“How much?”
“Fifteen thousand dollars.”
Blade heard Josie gasp from her seated position on the bed. Most people rarely appreciated the high cost of good-quality mobility equipment. Yet fifteen grand was a small price to pay for a prosthesis that had transformed his life. He would have paid double.
Josie stood and guided Archie back into bed.
“Can I come watch you in the special games?” Archie asked as his mother tucked him in. “How far do you run in your races?”
“I run three different distances,” Blade said. “The one hundred, two hundred and four hundred meters. I’ll be competing in a few months.” He didn’t look at Josie, deciding that he didn’t need her permission to take his son along to the most important event of his life so far. “Sure, you can come. I have a bunch of friends who can sit with you in the stadium. You’ll like them a lot.”
Josie said nothing to challenge him. She kissed Archie on the forehead, switched off the bedside lamp, flipped the switch of a plug-in night-light and walked over to the open door.
“I think I’ll go to bed, too,” she said with a yawn. “It’s another big day tomorrow.”
Blade joined her in the hallway. “Detective Pullman would like to speak to us downstairs,” he whispered. “It sounds important.”
Josie checked her watch and sighed. Her translucent skin had lost its sheen, and he saw the faint outline of circles beneath her eyes. He hated the way his mind told him to wrap his arms around her. It wasn’t what either of them wanted. Instead he reached for the knob of Archie’s bedroom door and said, “Good night, son,” before softly clicking it closed.
Then he faced Josie. “Did you call your aunt Susan?”
She ran her hands through her long hair, gathering it up and securing it with a band from around her wrist. “Yes, I did. She’s on a cruise in the Gulf of Mexico.”
“I see,” he said, fighting the urge to smile. “So I guess Archie stays here with us?”
“Yes, for the time being.” She started to descend the stairs. “But I’m going to call my grandparents in Dodge City. It’s closer than I would like him to be to the danger, but it looks like the only alternative.”
Blade followed in her footsteps, but he didn’t see the toy car that Archie had left on a stair. His foot slid on the wheels and he stumbled, grasping the handrail to balance himself. Josie stopped and turned around.
He expected an immediate offer of assistance and preempted it by saying, “I’m okay. I don’t need help.”
“I know,” she said, bending down to pick up the toy car. “I’ve slipped on these things a hundred times. I keep telling Archie how dangerous it is, but he never learns.”
Then she turned her back and walked away. She didn’t offer him her arm for support or even watch him descend to make sure he made it to the bottom safely. She disappeared into the living room, allowing him to make his own way. She seemed to have gotten the message, following up her apology with a real change in her behavior. It was a small victory, but it meant the world to him.
When he entered the living room, Detective Pullman was seated on the couch, holding a photograph in his hands. The anxious expression on his face added years to his youthful face. “Take a seat,” the detective said, gesturing to the couch where Josie was already settled. “I have some news about the man you asked me to check out in the Lansing Correctional Facility.”
“Orlando Cardwell,” Josie said, suddenly interested. “What did he say?”
“We didn’t manage to speak with him.”
“So, why are we here?” Blade asked. “You implied this was urgent.”
“It is urgent,” Detective Pullman said. “I just found out that Mr. Cardwell broke out of prison over two months ago.”