To Daniella’s relief, Isaac got a call that the injured marshal had been located, hospitalized and was expected to recover.
On the negative side, there had been no sightings of Terence Fagan or the stolen car. She and the Black brothers had given official statements about the attack, but in spite of extensive roadblocks and all-points bulletins, Fagan was still on the run.
She had redressed Isaac’s injury after the altercation and had found herself actually feeling his pain. As an ER nurse, she had often done the exact same task, yet this had been the first time she’d winced while tending to a patient. Not only had that reaction been a surprise, it had been unnerving to share such strong empathy with the K-9 officer.
Dinner conversation that evening and the next was subdued, for which she was doubly thankful since she felt so guilty about bringing trouble to such a nice family.
It was Becky who broke the charged silence around the table by asking, “So, Daniella...or should we call you something else?”
Eyes lowered while she pushed peas around her plate with a fork, she shrugged. “I suppose you could call me Ella if you wanted to, but I really prefer Daniella.” Unshed tears filled her eyes and she hoped she could hold them back long enough to politely excuse herself and leave the room.
“Daniella it is, then. Why didn’t you fill us in about your past when you first arrived? It would have made a lot more sense if we’d known the circumstances.”
“It’s not your problem. It’s mine. Nobody was supposed to know I was here and I didn’t want any of you to be involved if I could help it.” She glanced up at Isaac. “Didn’t you tell them anything?”
“Enough to keep them from getting hurt and help them look out for you if need be,” he replied. “I thought the background-story details were yours to provide if you chose. They knew he was middle-aged and I showed them booking photos.”
“He looks much older now, doesn’t he?” Daniella asked. “Being in prison really aged him.”
“It tends to do that.” Isaac looked to his sister. “I should have asked earlier. Did you renew your concealed-carry permit?”
“Yes,” Becky answered. “I don’t use it inside the beltway but since the trouble started I’ve decided it would be prudent to be armed when I’m at work, particularly if I’m out showing homes to prospective buyers.” She looked to their elder brother. “How about you, Jake?”
He grinned. “Hey, I got enough of that when I was deployed overseas. As long as I have my trusty shovel and these two hands, I’ll be fine.”
Becky rolled her eyes. “You’d better convince him otherwise, Isaac. You’re the one with the badge.”
“Ha! Since when does he listen to my advice?”
Daniella reached out, laid a hand lightly on Jacob’s forearm and said, “Please? I don’t want anybody else to get hurt because of me. There’s no telling what my father will try before the marshals either give me the okay to leave or insist on putting me somewhere else themselves.”
His grin widened and he winked at his siblings. “Well, since you put it that way, I guess I could load the shotgun.”
What a relief. “Thank you.”
As soon as she looked away from Jacob and made eye contact with Isaac, she noticed that he seemed out of sorts. Given his concern for his family’s safety, she found that off-putting attitude a bit puzzling, particularly since his brother had just agreed to take his good advice, thanks to her.
Becky began to giggle, further confusing matters. When Isaac rose from the table without excusing himself first and stalked from the room, both the remaining siblings laughed.
Counting to ten to make sure she wasn’t overreacting, Daniella asked, “What’s so funny?”
Becky was wiping away happy tears. “It’s a private joke.”
“Are you sure? It felt a lot like you were laughing at me and my story. Believe me, nothing about it is the least bit amusing.” She shivered. “I still think I see shadows of attackers lurking behind every bush and tree.”
“We’re not laughing at you,” Becky said. “Isaac’s the one who’s funny. He insists he’s not interested in you but he’s so jealous of poor Jake it’s comical.”
“Jealous? That’s terrible.”
“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” her hostess said. “Our brother may be too focused on his job and Abby a lot of the time, but he’s really a nice guy once you get to know him.”
Sorrowful, Daniella shook her head. “That’s the worst part of the problem. I can’t think of any job that scares me more than his does. Even if I wasn’t about to temporarily relocate I’d never consider dating him, let alone getting serious.”
“Really?” Becky leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “I think he’s very brave.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt he is,” Daniella replied. “But he goes looking for explosives. On purpose. Every day. The gash in his leg is just one example of an assignment gone wrong. Imagine how badly he’d have been hurt if he’d been closer or leaning over it to get a better look.” She shivered. “I can still picture every horrible detail of my mother’s death. The whole concept of going looking for bombs gives me goose bumps and makes me queasy.”
“Then it’s probably for the best that you’re going to move on,” the other woman said. “Tell you what. I’ll add you to my prayer list.”
“Don’t bother. God gave up on me a long time ago.”
“You can’t really believe that.”
Daniella was nodding. “Oh, yes, I do. My mother had strong faith and she still died, even after I prayed and prayed for her.”
“That doesn’t mean the Lord ignored you. It’s possible it was her time to go home to Him. Think about it. You say she was unhappy and stuck in a bad marriage. Her death not only freed her, it gave you a new life, too, and eliminated the cause of her pain.”
“But not the cause of mine,” Daniella countered. “Terence Fagan is still around, still after me.”
“For now,” Becky said gently. “Maybe meeting Isaac and the rest of us is God’s way of bringing your father’s reign of terror to an end, once and for all.”
“Humph. I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Becky smiled so sweetly it was unnerving when she said, “I pray that we’ll all see it before something takes you away from us.”
* * *
The official K-9 unit vehicles Isaac had been expecting rolled up shortly before the sun set that evening. He had already shut his farm dogs in the barn but Abby was loose because she was familiar with the visitors and highly trained.
He greeted the men, one blond, one darker, with a smile and handshake, then gestured toward the ornate Victorian-style covered front porch, where Daniella waited.
“Adam, Chase, I’d like you to meet Daniella Dunne, aka Ella Fagan. She’s the reason I asked you both to stop by with your dogs after work.”
Each man nodded politely to Daniella, then they fastened leashes on their canine partners and commanded them to jump down from the areas designed to protect them.
“The Doberman is Ace. His specialty is protection,” Isaac said, pointing to Adam and the sleek black-and-brown canine by his side. “The fawn-colored shepherd type with the longer hair and black mask is a Belgian Malinois named Valor. He’s trained mostly for search and rescue but both are cross-trained to track suspects and protect their handlers if necessary.”
One hand resting on the wooden railing, Daniella descended partway to the yard. “They’re beautiful animals.” She looked to Isaac. “But why are they here tonight?”
“For added insurance,” he replied. “I want them to do another sweep of the property, just in case.” Although he’d been trying to broach the subject with nonchalance, it was immediately clear to him that Daniella was not fooled.
“You sensed something was wrong, too? I wasn’t my imagination playing tricks on me?”
Isaac was quick to reassure her. “No. I didn’t sense anything and I haven’t seen a sign of your father, but I did overhear you telling Becky and Jake you were jumping at shadows.”
“I thought you’d left before I said that.”
“I try to never get too far from you, especially lately,” Isaac admitted. “Think of this search tonight the way you do preventive medicine. It’s sensible to head off problems, if you can, before you get sick. Right?”
She nodded and folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself as if the spring breeze suddenly carried a chill.
Watching her gaze dart from man to man, ending with him, Isaac smiled slightly and asked, “You can see the logic in that, can’t you?”
Her lips pressed together. She squinted. “I can see a lot of things, not the least of which is how worried you are. What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing.” He drew an imaginary X over his heart with one finger. “Honest.”
“Assuming I buy that,” Daniella drawled, “why does this look like an off-duty favor instead of a regular assignment?”
“Because it is.” He was unwilling to lie, even if the truth did make her more paranoid. “You met our boss, Captain McCord, at the hospital when I was being treated. His job is a tough one, particularly considering the amount of territory our unit is responsible for, including the White House. He didn’t feel that another check on this farm was necessary so he left it up to me to recruit a few volunteers if I wanted it done.”
Isaac watched Adam give her a wave and Chase a two-fingered casual salute.
“I want you to split up,” he told his comrades, pointing. “Adam and Ace can cover the east side of the house. Chase and Valor can take the west. Abby and I will join you in the backyard and work both sides from the middle. Ready?”
Before giving the signal to begin, he shot a stern look at Daniella. “You wait in the house.” He could tell how close she was to arguing and then saw when she made the decision to comply.
“All right. This is your farm, your family and your friends, so I’ll do things your way. This time.” Her gaze passed over the men and animals. “Please, please be careful. I know Terence Fagan all too well. He’s apt to try anything.”
“That’s why I’m including myself and Abby,” Isaac said. “We know what we’re doing.”
“Remind yourself of that every time the gash in your leg starts to throb,” Daniella snapped back. “You may be crazy-brave, but you’re not bulletproof.”
The blonder of the two other men clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. “No kidding. Some of us have been thinking of taking up a collection to buy you a head-to-toe set of body armor like the guys in the bomb squad wear.” He eyed the leg Isaac was favoring. “What do you say, buddy?”
Chuckling, Isaac batted his hand away. “Let’s just concentrate on doing a good sweep, shall we? Becky’s out on a date but she left coffee and cake waiting for us in the kitchen.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so? Let’s get at it.”
The joking around was a common coping mechanism and usually worked to relieve tension. The moment Isaac looked back, however, his smile disappeared.
Daniella had one arm wrapped around a porch post and was leaning against it as if she needed the added support merely to stay on her feet. Her eyes glistened. Wind ruffled her honey-colored hair that seemed to be getting lighter by the day. The jeans Becky had loaned her had never looked better on anyone, either.
Rays of the setting sun behind Daniella made her fairly glow and seem almost ethereal. For a brief moment he saw her, not as she was, but as he dreamed she could be. Innocent. Unencumbered. Free. Eager to embrace the joys of life, perhaps with him.
Then, his mind cleared and he snapped back to reality.
There was nothing about Daniella that fit his life plan. She was tortured by her past. Threatened by her present. And only half likely to have a future.
It was that future he must defend. With or without a place for himself in it, he had to make sure she had one.
* * *
The seconds and minutes dragged by for Daniella. She’d managed to keep one or more of the K-9 cops in sight by moving from window to window inside the old house.
Her final attempt led her to climb to the second floor and peer out her bedroom window so she could see over the barn roof and into the plowed fields beyond. An added comfort was the purring coming from Puddy as she cradled him and gently stroked his long fur.
The dogs and their handlers seemed to be pacing themselves and carefully moving ahead. Abby’s nose remained close to the ground while the other two alternated between scents in the air or the soil. It was fascinating to watch, almost soporific, given their methodical back-and-forth movements.
Isaac had had her car checked for bugs, then moved from police impound. He’d stored it under a tarp in his barn rather than disposed of it before they knew what the marshals’ plans were.
Not that I care, she mused, slightly disgusted that she hadn’t been able to convince herself to simply hop into it and drive away. Part of her wanted to flee while her more sensible side insisted she wait for all the red tape to be finished properly. Logic won. Barely.
A slight movement off to the side in a grove of maples caught her attention. It had been more of a sense than actual sight; a feeling that something had shifted in her usually well-ordered universe. Had it? Or was her fertile imagination merely taking her on another unwanted journey?
Concentrating, she noted that the winged seeds on the tree were shimmering in the evening light. A few were even breaking loose to swirl to the ground like helicopter blades.
Her hand had stilled. The cat nudged her fingers with his head in a plea for more affection.
Although Daniella looked away for only a second, when her focus returned to the base of the trees she realized something had changed. But what?
This scenario reminded her of those puzzles where minor things are different in similar pictures and the viewer is challenged to figure out what has been altered.
Trees, leaves, seeds, shadows. All seemed identical to her earlier observations.
Then, she saw it. An instant of flash. Sunlight on metal or glass. A gun? Binoculars? Maybe a telescopic sight on a rifle?
It didn’t matter. Whoever was down there was now behind the men who were searching the farm fields. When they retraced their steps they’d walk right into an ambush!
The cat wiggled free and scooted under the bed, obviously sensing her tension.
Trembling all over, Daniella let him go his way without a second thought. Part of her brain was screaming Go! Help them.
Contradicting orders mingled with her desire for bravery and she pictured herself shinnying under the bed beside her frightened cat.
What should she do? What could she do? Becky had gone out for the evening, presumably taking her handgun, and all Jake had to protect himself was that stupid shovel and a shotgun. A lot of good those would do him against a rifle, particularly at a distance.
No. She couldn’t enlist aid. She had to handle this situation herself. After all, the prowler was most likely after her. She’d brought the danger here and it was up to her to warn the K-9 officers. But how?
Her first thought was to throw open the window and shout at them, until she realized that that would bring them on the run, right into the waiting trap.
“Can I run fast enough to keep from getting shot?” she murmured to herself.
Pressing her lips together, she shook her head. “Not a chance.” She’d be doing well to even clear the back porch, let alone make it around the big barn and across the field before being spotted and stopped.
What choices are left?
No easy answers came to her. The sensible thing might be for her to drive Isaac’s SUV or maybe Jacob’s pickup truck, but first she’d have to lay her hands on the right set of keys. Isaac probably had his with him and if she asked Jake for the truck keys she’d have to tell him why she wanted them, meaning he was bound to interfere, perhaps fatally.
That left only one option. The car in the barn under the tarp. Daniella gritted her teeth and clenched her jaw. That car was where her father had left the bomb for her. Had he been on the premises long enough to have had a chance to repeat his attempt? Isaac had checked, of course, but that didn’t mean that someone else couldn’t have tampered with her car. She rooted through her purse searching for her spare keys. Where were they? They had to be in there.
Just as she was about to give up, her fingers touched the familiar ring. Fisting it, Daniella ran for the stairs and descended so fast she almost missed a step and fell.
Her pulse sped. Her breathing was shallow. Her knees threatened to fold and drop her to the floor before she accomplished her goal. She would not let that happen. Lives hung in the balance.
Centrifugal force carried her around the newel post at the bottom and headed her in the right direction. There was no time to search for protection or develop a disguise. Besides, the less encumbered she was, the faster she could move.
The element of surprise would be her armor. Dashing through the kitchen, she yanked open the back door and sailed off the end of the porch, not bothering to take the stairs.
Landing was trickier. Momentum pitched her forward. She caught herself on her hands and pushed off like a sprinter, without missing a beat.
The big barn door was closed so she headed for the smaller one at the side farthest from the maple trees that hid her enemy.
In the seconds it took her to work the latch, she kept expecting to hear the crack of a shot and feel its impact.
Instead, she was bowled over by three dogs the size of ponies. Barking and howling, they crowded out the open door and took off around the barn as if their tails were on fire. Would their arrival be enough of a warning? Or would they cause the officers to race back to the house without any thought for themselves? Probably the latter. Unless she acted swiftly.
Daniella paused to take stock. Several cats had made themselves at home atop the tarp covering her car. She shooed them away and whipped it off, then pivoted to free the crude latch holding the larger doors closed.
They swung partially out of the way while Daniella slid behind the wheel, hoping, praying her father had not discovered this vehicle and tampered with it again.
She missed the key slot twice, then grabbed her trembling wrist with her other hand to steady it. The key turned easily. The engine groaned, stuttered, quit! And the car did not blow up! Praise God!
Again she hit the ignition. Stomped on the gas pedal. Dropped the transmission into Drive. With a grinding of gears and squealing of tires, the car shot toward the doors.
They hadn’t opened fully when she’d released them, but Daniella didn’t care. She missed the left one, clipped the edge of the right and spun her car in a half circle, throwing a rooster tail of dust and dirt higher than the top of the car.
Her fingers felt like part of the wheel with her mind directing the engine, her feet urging it on. Nothing could distract her now. Not even being shot at.
The car fishtailed around the corner of the barn and straightened out, heading directly toward the plowed field the K-9 officers were searching.
Shock reflected off Isaac’s face, his jaw dropped and he began to wave his arms at her.
Daniella belatedly realized why he had been signaling so frantically. Her hood and front fenders plowed through a barbed-wire fence, snapping the spans and whipping long lengths of spiked, twisted wire behind her.
Her front and rear windows shattered simultaneously, and Daniella let out a piercing scream. Only the windshield stayed together, its surface a tangle of spidery cracks. She hit the brakes, skidded sideways and came to a halt mere feet from the men and all the dogs.
Someone jerked her door open and dragged her from the car. When she landed on the uncomfortable ridges of plowed dirt, she expected to be welcomed.
“You almost killed us!” Isaac roared.
Daniella shook her head and waved away the clouds of dust with both hands, blinking to clear her vision. “I did nothing of the kind. I just saved your lives.”
“By whipping us with wire and running us over?”
“No. By keeping you from walking into an ambush when you came back to the house to see why your other dogs were out. I saw somebody hiding under one of the maple trees below my room.”
“Did anybody else see this person?”
“No, but...I know there was someone there. I saw a glint of light reflecting off metal or glass. I know I did. I thought it was a gun.”
“Right.”
She saw one of the other officers tap Isaac on the shoulder and gesture at her car. He stepped closer in spite of the loose fencing wire that was still festooning the hood.
When he turned to look back at her, his anger was gone. So was the color in his face. All he did was point.
Joining him, she understood. It had not been the collision with the fence that had caused her windows to shatter.
A hole as big around as her little finger was punched through the fractured safety glass.
A hole the size of a bullet.