“I can swim!” Rebecca yelled, but her plea didn’t seem to do much good.
Kurt had an arm across her stomach and had dipped underwater, kicking a powerful sidestroke. He popped his head up to suck in a breath.
“Let go,” she hollered again. The effort to yell actually helped keep her teeth from chattering. She shivered as he released his hold around her torso and moved his hand to her arm.
He blinked and treaded water. “Am I hurting you? I can use a straight-arm, collar-tow rescue instead.”
She closed her eyes to process his words. It didn’t help. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she didn’t need to be rescued anymore. He’d already done a better job than any lifeguard. “I can swim,” she repeated. “It’ll help me stay warm. Please.” Her bones had begun the process of turning into icicles. Thinking warm thoughts didn’t help much when snowcapped mountains lined the valley.
“You have a head injury.”
True, but she’d also heard Kurt’s bloodcurdling moan in the truck as it sank. She hadn’t been thinking very straight in the heat of the moment, but she’d seen him yank his shoulder back into place. He couldn’t be feeling the best, either. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to leave without me, but I’m not woozy. If someone is trying to kill us, I’d rather you stay above water and keep a lookout.”
Besides, if he lost consciousness with the extra effort of swimming while in pain, she’d have to try to rescue him. And since she’d never moved past level three of swimming lessons, he’d probably die. “Let’s swim side by side. Just don’t go too fast.”
“As far as keeping a lookout, I’ve got the license plate number, and there can’t be too many Hummers in the area. We’ve all but got this guy, Rebecca.” His eyes darted to the empty section of railing on the bridge and then the bank far in the distance. Sirens grew closer. “Help is on the way.”
The soothing words didn’t help her chilled bones. Logically she understood that someone had tried to kill them. But she hadn’t witnessed it. She’d had her eyes closed when she’d felt the impact. A few seconds later, her body felt beat-up and she was hanging upside down in a truck surrounded by water.
Her heart beat against her chest remembering the brief fight against claustrophobia. The threat had escalated from kidnapping to a murder attempt. Maybe someone from the prisons had put out a hit on her. She couldn’t handle that thought yet, so she fought to focus on her breathing, her movements and everything in the present moment. “Why does anyone do the polar bear swim for fun?”
He all but growled, “Keep moving.”
She kicked her legs but wasn’t willing to submerge her face again. A police cruiser and an ambulance drove slowly down the bumpy hill next to the bridge, heading their way. She held up an arm and waved, just to be sure they’d spotted them.
Kurt shifted into a breaststroke and stayed by her side, so close that her arm kept bumping into his shoulder whenever she tried to do the front crawl. “I’m not going to drown. You can give me some space.” The exasperation came through loud and clear in her voice. “Thank you, though,” she amended, forcing her voice to sound gentle.
“It’s my job,” he replied.
She bristled. It felt more personal than a job description. “You saved my life. At the very least, you’ve earned my gratitude as well as my grandfather’s.”
“I hope he sees it that way,” he said with teeth clenched.
It took her a second to connect the dots. Kurt felt guilty? “It was my idea to go look for—”
“Believe me, I won’t fail to mention that.”
Her jaw dropped, which was unfortunate as a little bit of bitter river water sloshed into her mouth. She sputtered and he put an arm around her waist before she could object. She patted his strong forearm, but he didn’t let go.
He took over kicking as she coughed a few more times. The water rushed past her, much faster than when she’d been swimming. Once her lungs were clear, she finally replied, “Well, you’re not the only one who has a job to do.”
Kurt didn’t respond. He only kicked harder. EMTs and police officers sprinted to the bank as they reached the sloping, muddy embankment. Hands reached for her arms and pulled her up to standing before she could even try to find her footing.
The next few minutes passed in a blur as a heavy charcoal-colored blanket encased her shoulders and she was led away to the ambulance. Someone jogged backward in front of her, trying to shine a light in her eyes. “I’m fine,” she cried. “Just a little sore.”
“We’ll see.”
They let her sit in the back of the ambulance as they examined her, cleaned and re-stitched her head injury. “I’m telling you, I’m fine.”
“We can’t leave until the deputy marshal gives us the all clear,” one technician said.
“I don’t need to be admitted.”
Kurt had a similar blanket draped across his shoulders, but he was allowed to pace across the grass. His lips moved, but he spoke in low tones to the police officers so she couldn’t make out what he was saying.
“Unbelievable!” He repeated the word four times in a row, each time with a little more force.
So whatever they’d been talking about couldn’t have been good. A black SUV barreled down the hill at a much faster speed than the emergency vehicles crews. Kurt’s eyes sought hers as he strode toward the ambulance. “That’s our ride. Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
“Positive.”
The SUV pulled up next to them and rolled down the window, US Deputy Marshal Delaney Patton at the wheel. She looked so professional in dress pants, a dress shirt, a blue US Marshals jacket and a cap with her hair neatly arranged out of the back opening. “Rebecca, it’d be safer if you get in while we wait. This has bulletproof and tinted windows.”
Kurt opened the back door. “No need to wait. I’ll be ready in just a second.”
Rebecca passed on her many thanks to the two men in the back of the ambulance as she slipped inside. The vents blasted heat, which helped ease the chill but didn’t take away the horrible feeling of her wet clothes sticking to her skin. Delaney rolled up her jacket sleeves. Only up close could she see the sweat beaded on her forehead.
Rebecca welcomed the thoughtfulness as her body finally relaxed.
“Sorry to meet again in these circumstances,” Delaney said. “I heard you’ve had a rough afternoon. Good thing this ride arrived today. Too bad it didn’t come sooner. That Hummer would’ve had a much harder time with this bulletproof—” She broke off when Kurt hopped into the vehicle. He grunted as he reached over to put on his seat belt.
Delaney barreled up the steep, rocky incline. “I can get you back to the house in under five minutes.”
He nodded but said nothing.
The heat seemed to jar Rebecca’s thoughts loose and questions tumbled out of her mouth faster than she could filter them. “How’s my grandfather? Did someone try to hurt him? What about my parents? My brother? My niece? Have any attempts been made on any of them?”
“No,” Delaney answered first. “That’s the short version. We’ve already been in contact with law enforcement in both locations. The judge is fine and, as far as your parents are concerned, my understanding is they still have no knowledge of the threat, but they are being closely monitored and will be informed if we find a potential threat in their vicinity.”
Kurt gestured to the unopened water bottles in the console. His face had lost the hard edge of anger. He lifted one bottle and turned around to offer Rebecca one. She accepted and greedily gulped it down. “Slowly,” he encouraged. “I wasn’t talking to you, Delaney. You should speed to your heart’s content.”
Delaney laughed. “No need. We’re already here.” She waved at the two police cruisers tucked behind bushes on either side of the driveway and pulled into the garage. They followed the same protocol as the first time Kurt had brought her to the judge’s house.
They stepped inside and since Rebecca had lost her shoes underwater, her stocking-covered feet made instant wet spots on Grandpa’s floors.
“I’m heading back to help coordinate the search efforts, but I’m taking my own ride,” Delaney said. “I signed out weapons for you. They’re in the trunk.” She handed Kurt the keys. “A new duffel bag with a standard-issue uniform is in the living room. The police are willing to add a couple more officers to the perimeter, but they’re pretty taxed already.”
Rebecca marveled at Delaney’s efficiency, but Kurt merely shook his head. “Please tell me you have good news.”
“Only news I have is the same as the police so far. The plate number you gave me was twenty years old. The original owner said the tags had been on his Isuzu truck, which he dropped off at a junkyard five years ago.”
Kurt placed a hand over his eyes. “How does a Hummer just disappear?”
“It’s a small town—”
“Exactly.”
“And,” Delaney said, “there is a lot of forest across that bridge, a lot of places to hide in any of the foothills surrounding us. We’ll find it. Just give it a little more time.” She strode to the connecting door to the garage. “I’ll have an officer courier you a new phone as soon as I get one cleared from the IT department. He’s almost done scanning Miss Linn’s, as well. The landline is secure, so feel free to call me on it.” She waved and disappeared inside the garage.
“You know what else is over that bridge,” Rebecca said. She fought against shivering.
Kurt turned his head ever so slightly and met her gaze. “Don’t say it.”
“Levi Garner’s house.”
“I can’t believe you said it.” He walked over to the duffel bag and bent to pull out what looked like official logo sweatpants and sweatshirt. “I let you talk me into a wild-goose chase once already against my better judgment because, as you pointed out, it had been a kidnapping attempt not a threat on your life. But this—”
“It wasn’t a wild-goose chase. It was for my job. And I understand your concern, but surely if this is on the news they’ll track down the Humm—”
Kurt turned to look her directly in the eye. “The media will only know there’s been an accident on that bridge, Rebecca. Nothing more. Select law enforcement know what really happened today, but your name was kept out of it.”
His voice, soft and low, was almost enough to lose her train of thought. The exhaustion from the last hour had to be catching up to her because she couldn’t help but think he’d be excellent at reading bedtime stories. She cleared her throat. “Can I ask—”
He strode past her on his way to the guest bathroom. “Your grandfather made it clear he wanted the threat to stay out of the media for the time being, and I agree. Most people don’t know what their local federal judges even look like, which serves the judges and the Marshals well. If the attention is put on you, your grandfather, or this house, then the risk only increases.”
“Because of the other threats out there?”
“Exactly. Most crimes are ones of opportunity. Let’s not give anyone else ideas.”
She stared at a spot on the wall behind him and her mind took her back to that moment, yet again, when the attacker had grabbed her. “What color was the Hummer?”
“Black.”
She should’ve remembered it before, remembered to mention it. “I saw a boxy, black SUV in the front yard that night…”
His eyes flashed for a second before he gestured at the blanket around her shoulders. “I recommend you get warm and dry. If you’re up for it, it’s more important than ever to get through the rest of the potential threat list since…” His shoulders rose ever so slightly as he shook his head and never finished his sentence.
Rebecca didn’t need to ask him to finish, though, because she already knew. Someone wanted her dead now, and it didn’t seem to matter who else they killed to finish the job.
* * *
Kurt wiped the fog off the mirror. Bags appeared underneath his eyes. Usually after a fugitive tracking, he was given some extra R & R, but under the circumstances, vacation time didn’t seem to be coming any time soon.
The hunt for an outlaw was mentally, and sometimes physically, demanding, but his emotions usually didn’t come into play—except when circumstances involved children. He’d seen a lot of hard things and been put in many dangerous situations, but he’d never been taken off guard before.
The hot water had loosened some of the knots in his back and, thankfully, seemed to help his shoulder. His stomach wouldn’t unclench, though. He’d almost lost her. He was used to working alone, living alone. Usually it served him well, but Rebecca seemed to want him to act like a partner even though she wasn’t a marshal and had no law-enforcement experience. He understood the desire to help, but it made more sense for her to keep her head down and to focus on identifying her attacker from the safety of the secured house. The tension in his gut tightened as if calling him out.
Maybe if he had been more open with her, he would’ve pointed out the bad driving of the Hummer behind him. There was a small possibility she would’ve recognized it and he could’ve maneuvered to avoid the hit. Or not.
If he started voicing every potential danger while he was guarding her, she’d turn into a walking mess of fear. Bottom line: he needed backup. But they were short staffed. Most of the other deputy marshals in the area were out on other fugitive operations. After today, he hoped the Judicial Security Inspector would divert more resources their way.
Maybe it was time to settle down and get out of the field. The current inspector in the region would be retiring soon and there was an opening for chief deputy marshal. Either was a senior position he knew he’d want someday if he ever had a family—a highly unlikely event—but the sudden desire unnerved him.
The phone rang from the living room. He groaned. “Please don’t answer that,” he hollered from inside the door. The hospital had stopped making calls, so it was probably Delaney giving him a status report. Hopefully they’d found the Hummer. If they found a way to identify the attacker, half the battle was done. He could track anyone.
“We might miss it,” she hollered back. “Your partner took the answering machine, remember?”
If the call was from anyone other than Delaney, he didn’t want her answering it. Was she expecting a phone call on her grandfather’s landline? They hadn’t touched on any potential personal threats, perhaps from a former relationship. He grumbled at the thought but finished dressing in a heartbeat and slid in his socks across the floor to the kitchen phone.
Rebecca’s fingernails tapped on the countertop as she watched him with an amused smile. Her grin took him by surprise and he misjudged the distance and bumped into the counter. Not having a cell phone was unacceptable. He hoped the IT guys at the courthouse were able to deploy him a new one fast.
“Marshal Brock.”
“It’s about time,” the elderly voice snapped.
Kurt stiffened. So the judge knew about the bridge incident. Kurt needed to remember that the judge didn’t sign his paychecks, though Justice Linn could make his current station unpleasant while he was in town. “Sir—”
“The rookie already updated me. And while I’m disappointed you didn’t keep the situation from happening, I’m thankful you kept my granddaughter safe. Please put her on.”
Kurt pulled the receiver away slightly, unsure of what had just happened. He’d anticipated a verbal thrashing, but instead had got a pat on the back. Not what he’d expected. He shoved the phone at Rebecca before he had the clarity to answer the judge. “Yes, sir,” he said loudly as an afterthought.
Rebecca raised an eyebrow before placing the phone to her ear. “Grandpa, before you say anything, I’m okay.”
She’d changed into blue jeans and a light pink sweater draped over a brown T-shirt. It was a dramatic transformation from the hospital gown and business suit he’d seen her in so far. Her curly hair, while still wet, framed her face and made her eyes seem even bigger.
“No, I’m not going back yet,” Rebecca said. “Are you planning to come home?” She turned her back to Kurt as she spoke into the phone.
He strained his ears just in time to hear the judge say his Boise protection detail was very competent.
“Exactly. Precautions are being taken, and you aren’t letting fear dictate your life. Your job is important and so is mine.”
He’d lost count of how many times Rebecca bristled at any potential insinuation that her occupation wasn’t as important as others. While he found it honorable to care about a job well done, he wondered where the passion came from about auditing, of all things. In fact, she had an unnerving capability to be energetic about everything.
The judge’s voice grew loud enough that Kurt overheard snippets of the elderly man’s side of the conversation.
“You always taught me a fair judge never makes assumptions.” She twisted around and pressed her fingertip into the countertop as she made her point. “My job is important to me, to my company and to the backers looking to invest their hard-earned money. I’m making sure justice happens in my own way.”
The judge chuckled and said something about a chip off the old block and that he wouldn’t dare argue against that. Kurt marveled at Rebecca’s ability to put the hard-edged man at ease, especially given the situation.
“What about the marshal?” The crackly voice came through the receiver.
“I’m in excellent hands.”
Kurt’s chest expanded. He didn’t need compliments, but they always felt great to hear.
The judge’s voice was garbled and Kurt almost didn’t hear the response, but it had something to do with her spending time with him. A light blush washed over Rebecca’s cheeks as her lips fought back a smile.
She averted her eyes from Kurt. “Tolerable, I suppose.”
He crossed his arms. What was that supposed to mean? A mere second ago she’d put her grandfather in his place for judging things he didn’t have the whole story on and then she had the audacity to rate time with him as tolerable when he’d risked his life—
“You’re comparing him to Mr. Darcy?” the judge practically shouted over the line. His words were clear as day even seven feet away from the phone.
Kurt’s forehead relaxed. That name—Mr. Darcy—sounded familiar.
“I knew you fell asleep during the movie! You definitely weren’t resting your eyes,” Rebecca shot back. “Darcy actually said that about Elizabeth. If you don’t remember what he said next, you’re going to have to look it up.”
Kurt didn’t know about the judge, but as soon as he had a smartphone back that was exactly what he intended to do.
“It should put your mind at ease,” Rebecca continued. “Everyone involved is top-notch and doing a wonderful job. So I’ll let you get back to work, Grandpa, and I’ll get back to mine.” She paused for a second. “Love you, too.” She held out the receiver to Kurt. “Back to you.”
Standing by a landline phone felt like going back into time. “Sir?”
“My granddaughter feels there is a chance this is work related. Between you and me, if it is, she can go back to Ohio without bringing the threat with her, so follow any leads you have and get this done. You need to be one hundred percent sure, though. Understood? I have to be back in court. Goodbye.”
The judge hung up before Kurt could respond. His blood heated to close to a boil. He wasn’t the type of guy who had to be in charge, but he also wasn’t one to take orders, especially vague ones. The job description of a deputy marshal wasn’t the same as a babysitter or chauffeur. He would never presume to know the judge’s job. It irked him that people without experience in law enforcement thought they knew better.
Rebecca beamed. “Well, we’ve agreed. I should get back to work, which means it’s time to hunt down Levi Garner.”
Why’d he let this woman get under his skin? He took a deep breath. “You may talk your way out of anything with your grandfather, but I’m not related to you. First, we analyze the risks.”
“But—”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You do understand we could’ve died back there, right?”
Her nose crinkled when she frowned. “I had complete faith in you.”
While the words soothed his pride after her little comment about being tolerable, he wanted to stress his point. “Well, let’s not test that faith. Let’s get back to work. Based on Judge Linn’s cases, we have some hate groups that operate in Northern Idaho that we need to rule out.”
Although, if he could confirm the vehicle she’d seen on the night of the kidnapping attempt was the Hummer, maybe that would rule out a coordinated effort of people after Rebecca. One person was easier to catch.
The doorbell rang. “Stay back, please.” He walked to the door. As much as he hated to admit it, the prudent thing to do would be to rule out a potential threat from Rebecca’s work.
An officer at the door handed him a bag from the IT department at work.
Rebecca peeked around the corner as Kurt closed the door with two phones in hand. “They couriered over a phone for me,” he explained. “It seems your phone is cleared. He wants a little more time with your laptop.”
“No spyware on the phone?”
“Usually our IT guy, Mike, would’ve alerted one of us if it was a concern. So, you’re free to use it, but I have some requests.” He handed the cell to her. “Until the threat is gone, use it for emergencies only. Put my number in your contacts and give me permission to find your location if for some reason we get separated when we leave. Turn off all other location services and permissions. Ignore any other texts or emails for now. If you feel you must return one, I need to know how you’re wording it to make sure you don’t give away any pertinent information that might hinder our efforts.”
“Fine. You said, ‘When we leave.’ Where?”
“For Levi Garner’s house.”
His heart skipped a beat as her eyes widened—he could get lost in those eyes. She smiled, and he had the irrational desire to kiss her. One way or another, this assignment was going to be the death of him.