CHAPTER TWO

Rebecca wanted nothing more than to turn her thoughts off, but if she stopped obsessing over the attack, she feared she’d forget some crucial detail. As soon as she got back to Grandpa’s place, she wanted some time alone on her laptop. Typing every single detail she remembered would allow her to get it off her mind and finally relax. At least, as much as she could unwind with two marshals guarding her.

She pulled her unruly hair back into a loose braid and secured it with a rubber band a nurse offered her. It embarrassed her a little bit to leave the hospital in a business suit, but her grandfather had grabbed the first thing he’d seen from her suitcase. He had already left with a policeman who would meet a deputy marshal from Boise in McCall to take over his protective detail. If her father knew she had been assigned her own protective detail, he’d lose his mind with worry, but she couldn’t deal with that yet.

Rebecca stepped out of the bathroom. Kurt faced the door. His thick brown hair was slightly lighter than hers, and she wondered if it was natural or from so much time outside. His skin, slightly tanned, seemed to indicate the latter. He leaned against the wall as he made notes on his tablet. His dress shirt was a bit strained at the center of his back. She knew from the way her brother complained that it was hard to find athletic fits of dress clothes.

The marshal was much bigger, much stronger, than her first glance had led her to believe. Guys like him probably spent all their free time in a gym. She couldn’t help but wonder if he would win a one-on-one fight against her attacker. Her attacker hadn’t looked as fit or seemed as strong as the marshal, but she shivered at the memory of the cold, calculated way he’d stared at her when she’d screamed for him to get away.

Kurt swiveled. His kind brown eyes searched her face. “Hey, are you okay?” He placed a steadying hand on her arm and his heat was enough to make her forget it was chilly. “You’ve gone pale. I can call the doctor.”

She blinked. “I’m fine. I was lost in thought, wondering why he let me get away.”

He stepped back and tilted his head. “Get away?”

She fidgeted with the edge of her suit jacket, curling it—a habit she couldn’t seem to break—and fought to ground herself in the present moment. “I’d like to think I got away because I did the right things, but…” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “The more I think about it, he probably could’ve caught up to me. Why didn’t he?”

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “Ma’am, you did do the right things. You fought back, you ran and you tried to get help.”

“You can call me Rebecca.” She turned her attention to the tiled floor. And while she appreciated his comforting words, it didn’t diminish her newfound fear. Her job required lots of travel. As a single woman, she took precautions and remained observant, but if she started to jump at her own shadow, she wouldn’t be able to cope.

His feet shifted as if uncomfortable. “You’ve met my fellow marshal, Delaney Patton. She and the police have secured your grandfather’s house. I’ll take you back there now, if you’re ready.”

She looked around the room but realized she had no personal effects. If Grandpa hadn’t brought her shoes, she wouldn’t even have that.

They walked to the elevator and parking lot in silence until they reached a massive white pickup.

He exhaled. “I wasn’t expecting…uh… We should have an official sedan available in a day or so. I hope you don’t mind riding in this today.”

“No, I don’t care a bit.”

He opened the door for her and offered his hand. She almost refused it except her head still hurt and it was quite a big step up into the seat. The moment her fingers touched his palm, her stomach flipped. He jerked his hand back as if she’d shocked him with static electricity. She elected to use the inside door handle to help her into the cab instead and he kept his sights on their surroundings, constantly swiveling his head until he closed the door behind her.

When she’d first met him, he’d seemed more friendly and approachable, but maybe she’d misjudged. As he slid into the driver’s seat she asked, “So have you been a deputy marshal a long time?” He nodded but said nothing.

“Enjoy your work?”

Another nod.

Well, he wasn’t going to help her keep her mind off the attack at this rate. She leaned back into the seat as he cranked the car’s ignition. Music blared through the speakers. She flinched at the sound of violins feverishly accelerating through the measures.

“Sorry.” The marshal swiftly turned down the volume. “I wasn’t expecting a passenger.”

“What was that?” she asked with emphasis on each word.

“An orchestral arrangement of ‘Toccata and Fugue in D Minor’ by Bach.”

She felt her eyes widen. The idea of a buff marshal driving a beefed-up truck with classical music booming cracked her up. “I didn’t mean the song title…” She gestured at the speakers inside the truck.

His lips curved to the side. “You were expecting country?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” She looked at his profile. “More like hard rock.”

He shrugged. “I rock out…to classical music.” A small smile crept up and threatened to melt her knees as he glanced at her before backing out of the parking lot. “The instrumental music keeps my head clear. It helps my focus.”

He squeezed the steering wheel and frowned as if surprised he’d just admitted as much to her. “We’d better get you to safety.” He reached in the back seat with one arm and handed her a ball cap with the Marshals star logo in the center. “Wear this and keep your head down.”

The solemn reality of her situation came crashing down. She followed his directions and slouched in the seat. The conversational, encouraging man disappeared once again. Her first impression must’ve been completely wrong. The man was all business. Until they found her attacker it would be like hanging out with a brick wall. All the more motivation to figure out who the intruder was and to get him behind bars so she could go back to living her life.

Five silent minutes passed before he pulled into Grandpa’s driveway. Two police officers on either side of the entrance waved them forward. The garage opened to reveal Delaney inside, standing next to the controls and connecting door. She, at least, offered a welcoming smile.

Rebecca reached for the door handle.

“Stay in the vehicle until the garage is secure,” Kurt said. He watched the rearview mirror until they were enclosed.

Delaney walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger door. “I’m sure you’re ready to rest,” she said.

“Did you find anything off the letter opener?”

“I’m afraid we haven’t found it at all yet.”

Everything looked different inside the house. All the blinds had been pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The soothing view of the mountains and the lake had been replaced with a kitchen counter full of walkie-talkies and other contraptions Rebecca didn’t recognize.

“I’ve arranged for the police to take shifts on the perimeter of the property. Judge Linn’s assistant has been gathering any cases she thinks worthy of note, aside from our own log of threats.” Delaney tapped her phone with each sentence as if checking off a list as she spoke to Kurt.

“How many threats have been made?” Rebecca asked.

Kurt and Delaney both wore the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, as if they’d forgotten she was in the room. Delaney was the first to snap out of it and held her hand out to Kurt, as if waiting for him to answer. When he looked uncomfortable, she faced Rebecca. “You have to keep in mind that there are over two thousand sitting federal judges. And in any given year we could have anywhere from five hundred to over a thousand threats.”

“I’m not asking about the others. How many has my grandfather received during his time as a judge?” Rebecca put her hands on her hips. She knew from auditing hundreds of companies when someone was trying to keep something from her. “Or would it be better that I ask my grandfather directly?” She wanted to help law enforcement remove the threat, but she would not stand to be treated like a frail wallflower.

Kurt faced her but didn’t make eye contact. “Almost three hundred.”

She lost the ability to breathe for a moment. Three hundred people had threatened to hurt or kill Grandpa or his family? Her family? “That’s…wow.” No wonder her dad wanted to keep her as far away from the judge as possible. He’d made her promise she wouldn’t go into law enforcement or be with someone who was.

Maybe she could find some of the threats online. Surely some of them had made the news. Then she could identify the man and wrap it up before dinner. She spun in a circle, looking around the wooden floor for her phone. Hopefully the screen protector had worked as promised.

“I found your phone,” Delaney said. “We haven’t screened it yet, though, so please avoid using it. Tracey, the officer outside, has agreed to act as a courier until his shift ends. Our computer guy, Mike, will stay late to scan any electronics for spyware as soon as you bag it up. I’ll keep you updated.”

Rebecca held up her hand in a half-hearted wave but Delaney was already halfway out the door.

“If you don’t mind unlocking your phone for me, I need to take a superficial look before we bag it.”

Even the timbre of his voice made the back of her neck tingle. She crossed to the counter to pick it up. “Okay. But can I ask why?”

“Precautionary step, and I’ve been trained to see red flags that might speed up tracking the attacker. After our guy at the courthouse takes care of it, we’ll feel confident you can use it. Mike’s an expert. You’ll have it back in no time. Like the judge, you are accepting our protection detail of your own free will. You don’t have to, but I recommend it.”

“You don’t have to convince me.” She tried to smile as she thought about everything on her device. He’d see all of her app choices, like the funny photo manipulation application her niece, Mandy, insisted she try for all the selfies they exchanged. Not to mention the games Mandy begged her to download like Minecraft and Candy Crush. “I’ve been meaning to delete a few things anyway.”

“I understand.” His lips shifted to the right as if trying not to laugh at her.

“Maybe I can just do that real quick before—”

He lost the war and laughed. “Rebecca, it’d be better if you let me check first. I’m not here to judge.”

It was a glimmer of the man who’d first come in to interview her. Maybe he switched on the no-nonsense persona when in protection mode.

The screen was intact, thankfully. She clicked on the phone to enter her pass code and several previews of text messages from friends and colleagues popped up on the home page. It was nothing that couldn’t wait, but it unnerved her. She’d almost been kidnapped…or worse.

Everyone in her life still assumed she was having a blast.

His fingers brushed against hers as she handed him the phone. His eyes darted to meet hers and she looked away. Her laptop still remained open on the desk in the living area, but the black flash drive sat next to it. Odd.

She crossed the room. “Would the other marshal, Delaney, already have checked my computer?”

“I don’t believe so. I’ll want to do a preliminary scan before we send it in, as well.”

“Someone took out the flash drive.” She’d had it plugged in when the man had attacked, although there was a possibility it could’ve been knocked out when she’d grabbed the letter opener.

While Kurt recommended he scan everything first, she’d never sleep without following her hunch. “I have to check something for work before you take this. Feel free to watch for those flags,” she said. She sat and inserted the drive back into the USB drive before Kurt could object.

The spreadsheet appeared and she scrolled down. “Unbelievable. Someone wanted me to think it’s the same flash drive, but it’s not.” The highlighted problem areas were nowhere to be found. She examined the file a second time but didn’t find anything. Her heart raced and the throbbing headache returned.

She spun around to face the marshal. “What if this isn’t about the judge?”

* * *

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be?” Kurt lowered the phone and placed it on the desk beside the laptop.

“I’m sure that this flash drive was plugged into my computer when I was attacked.” She gestured toward a spreadsheet full of hundreds of numbers that made his mind go numb.

“It’s possible you misremembered. I’ll scan the flash drive for spyware, as well.”

“No, it’s not that…” She released a frustrated exhale and yanked the drive from the computer. The laptop sounded the obnoxious beep that meant she didn’t eject it properly. She flipped the black stick over in her hand, studying it carefully. “It’s missing a couple of lines I’m sure were there last night.”

“For your job? Do you have it saved elsewhere?”

“Yes, yes I have backups. I’m trying to tell you there was something on this drive last night that’s not here today. And I don’t have any copies of that. In fact this isn’t even my flash drive. It appeared in my bag last night. It might’ve been put there by a whistle-blower.” Her eyes widened and she shoved her finger at the middle of the drive. “I knew it! The drive last night had a scratch on it.” She waved the black object in front of him. “This one looks brand-new.”

Her eyes looked a little manic. He glanced at the bandage wrapped around her hair. How hard had she hit her head? Rebecca’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms, as if she already knew what he was about to say. His job required him to say the tough things sometimes, but he knew how to do so tactfully. “Sometimes, after a head injury—”

“I can’t believe you went there.” She rolled her eyes and leaned back into the chair.

“Listen, even aside from the blow to the head, you were in a dangerous situation last night. Adrenaline and panic can make some details fuzzy.” His training included a basic understanding of what victims and witnesses went through. They’d even put his class into a mock crime and asked them to identify the perp by mug shots that were two years old. Most of them had failed. “Don’t beat yourself up or push yourself. The best thing—”

She moved her hands in front of her face as if wiping away his words. “You don’t have to tell me that. I was there. I vividly remember it all.” Her face paled.

Kurt fought the urge to put his hand on her shoulder or to pull her into a hug. He’d never had similar inclinations during other protection assignments. It took him off guard. He stepped backward for more distance.

She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Wearing her business suit, the action made her look even more vulnerable. “I know I’m not perfect.” Her voice was soft and lyrical. “I realize I could remember some details wrong. But about this…” She took a deep breath and stared ahead at a spot on the wall, as if recalling the attack again. “I’m sure,” she whispered. “There’s no way I imagined it. This is a different drive than the one in my bag.”

He closed the laptop and unplugged it. He slipped it, alongside the drive and cell phone, inside a bag that blocked all cellular signals and tracking. He opened the front door and gestured for the officer at the edge of the driveway to come get the bag. He set it down on the concrete for the officer to courier to the courthouse.

“What are you doing?”

He locked the door and faced her. “Don’t worry. You’ll get it back soon. If there’s any chance you are right, the flash drive could’ve installed spyware on your computer to watch and listen to the judge. As soon as you did it, they would’ve known, and maybe they wanted to get rid of the evidence and let you go.”

“Like a fake out? So I wouldn’t suspect they were spying on me? But there were numbers on the drive related to my work.”

He studied her a little longer than he needed. “Maybe you should explain your job a little more.”

“I work for a global accounting firm. We specialize in third-party audits, mainly for investment purposes. My firm had an audit request here in Coeur D’Alene and, since my grandfather lives here, my boss thought of me for the assignment.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I can put your mind to rest. Typically only IRS auditors get threatened.” Her eyes narrowed again, so he humored her. “Who is your audit for?”

“Vista Resort Properties. The corporate offices as well as their biggest resort and spa are located here. The CEO told me a potential investor requested my firm specifically.”

He almost laughed. People who specialized in vacations had to have the easiest jobs in the world. The likelihood the threat could be from a resort, of all things, seemed unlikely. If they got upset at someone, all they needed to do was take their own advice and get a massage or rest in a hammock. He’d pay good money for either thing at the moment.

Her hypothesis most likely had more to do with work stress and maybe the head injury. “I know you don’t want your family to be in danger, but a company that specializes in relaxing spas is definitely not after you.”

A storm seemed to brew in her eyes. “They bring in millions of dollars each year. It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

Kurt held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay. I’ll add them to the list, but I think we should pool our resources and look at credible threats first. I can access ones made in public with a simple search. If you’re up for it, I’d like to see if you recognize anyone while we wait for Delaney to send us more files.”

Rebecca blinked rapidly and nodded. “Of course. I’m just going to make some tea while you pull them up.” She stood quickly and wobbled. Her hand reached for her forehead.

Kurt instinctively rushed to catch her. He placed his arm around the back of her waist as she leaned into him.

Her cheeks flushed as she focused on the ground. “I’m fine. Just stood up too fast. I think I’m a bit dehydrated.”

Not to mention the aforementioned head injury, but Kurt knew not to bring up that sensitive topic again. His arm lingered a moment longer as she looked up into his eyes. “Thank you.” Her voice was soft and gentle to his ears.

Uh-oh. Kurt dropped his arm and strode to the door leading to the garage. He refused to let his mind wander on how much he enjoyed having her in his arms. “Your blood sugar might be low, too. We can order some food in if you don’t have anything to eat here. I’m going to grab my equipment while you make yourself that tea.”

He reached his truck and blew out a breath. Talking a lot wasn’t his style, yet he’d practically ranted. There was something that drew him to Rebecca. A completely unfair set of feelings, as the judge had practically ordered him to keep his distance. Sure, Judge Linn wasn’t his boss, but Kurt also didn’t want to make an unnecessary enemy on the court. One recommendation from the judge could go a long way in securing a promotion.

He left his two other weapons stored in the vehicle but grabbed his on-the-go duffel, which contained some of his gear and clothes. Ninety percent of assignments involved tracking down fugitives. He needed his head to get in the game in the same manner, tracking down an unnamed threat.

The protection part of the assignment wouldn’t even be an issue as long as she stayed inside the house, so maybe he had a chance to get Rebecca out of his mind. They could go through threats then keep to opposite ends of the seven-bedroom house.

He stepped inside as his phone chimed with a text from Delaney.

Rebecca watched him expectantly from the kitchen counter. “Is it about the case?”

“Yes.” He passed both the kitchen and the desk and rested his duffel on the coffee table in front of the leather couch. “We have a place to start at least.”

The tablet’s case allowed him to set the screen upright. It didn’t take long to pull up the newscasts about Templeton. The man had been convicted of drug trafficking across state lines. He’d attracted national attention when he’d threatened the judge on court camera, claiming he was going to find Judge Linn’s family when he got out. As far as Kurt knew, the man was still in jail. But like every other case they would look at, there would be a possibility that the prisoner could’ve ordered the job.

Rebecca sat on the couch cushion beside him and held her tea mug in both hands. The smell of chamomile and honey took the edge off the tension in his shoulders.

He tapped on the link Delaney had messaged him. The video captured Templeton interrupting the judge, yelling over the judge’s questions and finally, issuing the threat.

Rebecca shivered. “Grandpa stayed so calm despite that man goading him, threatening him…us.”

He hated this part of the job. She’d just been put under a lot of strain and here he was asking her to listen to more threats against her family. “Your grandfather wouldn’t want you worrying about him. The judge is known for having nerves of steel.”

She blew on the top of her mug. “I’ve never seen that side of him.”

“To you, he’s always been your grandpa.”

“His name is Templeton?” She leaned back into the cushions. “His voice and eyes don’t match the man who attacked me.”

“No, I didn’t expect him to. He’s still in jail, but maybe it triggered a memory. Did your attacker mention any names? Give any hints about why they came after you?”

She shook her head. “No. Nothing.”

Kurt’s phone vibrated again.

He wasn’t familiar with that threat. He typed in the name and the judge’s name, and frowned. The incident in question happened forty years ago. In some ways, that made it more likely since the perpetrator may have been released from prison by now.

While Kurt couldn’t locate any video, he found an archived news article that showed McCollum’s photograph.

Rebecca leaned distractingly close, enough that he could smell the tea on her breath. Kurt cleared his throat and placed the screen back on the coffee table for her to see while keeping his distance.

Her face paled. “I recognize that man.”

She set her cup down and turned away from the photo. Her finger shook as it pointed at the tablet. “I’ve had to look at that picture at least once a year for my entire life. My dad wanted me to always be on the lookout for him. That man is the reason my dad had to use mirrors to check underneath his car for bombs every day in high school and his entire time at college.”

Kurt couldn’t imagine having to live that way as a teenager.

Rebecca continued, “He’s the reason why Dad moved us so far away from here, why he hardly ever came to visit Grandpa with us and why he made me promise I would never be in or get involved with anyone in law enforcement. That man doesn’t need to come after us again. He’s already ruined our lives.”

“His rap sheet indicates he’s a dangerous man. I’ll get an alert out on him right away.” He picked up his phone and tried to ignore the jolt he felt when she’d said she could never get involved with anyone in law enforcement. It wasn’t his business, and it didn’t matter. So why wouldn’t his stomach unclench?