Page 9

FIVE
Ellie stared at the broken window as fear coursed through her body.
This couldn’t be happening. It just… couldn’t be.
“Ellie.” Daniel’s tone was sharp but hushed. His hand still on her arm, he guided her several steps away from the front door until they were around the corner of the house, out of sight of anyone inside. “Take Owen back to my Explorer and lock the doors. Call 911 to report the break-in. Make sure you tell dispatch I’m on scene. Where are your house keys?”
“In the front pocket of the diaper bag.” Her gaze darted to his. Years of professional training overrode her fear as she snapped into cop mode. “You shouldn’t go in without backup.”
“Thanks for the advice, but if there’s a way to stop this now, I’m taking it.”
The weight of Owen in his carrier was heavy, her primary responsibility clear. Yet her heart lurched at the thought of Daniel entering the house and confronting an intruder. “Daniel?—”
“Car. Locks. 911.” His tone brooked no argument. Daniel’s head tilted toward his Explorer in the driveway. “Now, Ellie.”
Stubborn, infuriating man. She knew better than most how quickly an operation could go wrong. But what was she going to do? Wrestle him to the ground and hold him there until backup arrived? She had Owen to think about, and he had to be her priority. “Don’t get yourself killed, or Marta will never forgive me.”
His deep chuckle followed her down the driveway. She eased open the passenger-side rear door and set Owen—car seat and all—inside on the floor before climbing into the vehicle and shutting the door. The locks snicked into place with a flip of a button. Daniel waited one minute more, probably to ensure she wouldn’t come back out, and then eased toward the house. The porch light glinted off the gun in his hand.
Her breath stalled. Ellie fumbled for her cell phone, pulling it from her pocket. She dialed 911 and rattled off information to the dispatcher while watching Daniel.
He moved with practiced precision toward the diaper bag before slipping onto the porch. Every move was measured and purposeful. Early in her career, Ellie had a trainer who said you could tell a lot about a law enforcement officer by how they handled stress. Some rushed in without thinking. Others hesitated too long, caught in the what-ifs. But the best—the ones you trusted to have your back—struck a balance. They made fast, decisive calls based on the facts at hand and then moved forward, always willing to adjust the plan as needed.
From the way Daniel approached the house, Ellie knew he fell into the third group. He was comfortable taking risks, but he wasn’t reckless about it. Still, it didn’t stop her pulse from racing as he entered the dark recesses of the house.
After all, she’d been in that third group too. And she’d ended up shot.
“Officers are en route, ma'am.” The dispatcher’s voice cut through Ellie’s thoughts. “Please keep this line open until they arrive.”
Owen took that moment to send up a wail of distress. Ellie put the call on speaker and then undid the straps holding him in the car seat before lifting him into her arms. His back was warm and slightly sweaty, the onesie sticking to his skin. Poor boy was probably hungry. She’d given him a bottle at the church after the attack, but he’d missed dinner entirely.
“Shhh, shhhh, sweet boy. It’s going to be okay.” Ellie rocked gently in the seat, even as her attention shifted between the familiar neighborhood street and her front door. Where was Daniel? She hadn’t heard gunshots, which was a relief, but that didn’t mean he was safe.
Please, Lord. Protect Daniel.
For the second time today, she was locked in a vehicle with a crying child, praying. Frustration, piping hot, sliced through her. This part of her life was supposed to be over. The danger and fear. The constant worry. She’d left all of it behind with her FBI career. It hadn’t been easy to settle into life in Silver Creek. Trusting people again had taken time. Now that hard-won security was being ripped away. Worse—her child was in harm’s way.
And for what?
Why was this happening?
Ellie couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
Had the Iron Fist found her? It wasn’t impossible, but considering the measures she took to keep herself safe, it seemed unlikely. Besides, they wanted her dead. There would be no reason to kidnap Owen or break into her house. At least, none that she could think of. Still, that thought didn’t erase the pit of fear that’d settled in her stomach or the nagging feeling that she was engaging in wishful thinking.
Stop. She couldn’t allow illogical fear to send her into a tailspin of hypotheticals. She needed to analyze the facts. Needed tothink. But that wouldn’t happen with a baby crying in her ear and Daniel still in the house.
Owen’s food was in the diaper bag sitting on the driveway. She didn’t dare risk getting out of the vehicle to retrieve it. Instead, Ellie alternated between gentle bounces and slow side-to-side movements, continuing to whisper soothing words even as she watched the front door. Owen’s cries lessened to heartbreaking whimpers. She brushed away the tears on his cheeks with her thumb. “There. There. Everything is going to be okay.”
Simple words. A promise Ellie wasn’t sure she could keep.
Daniel exited the house, his weapon holstered. A burst of relief flooded through Ellie, but it was short-lived as she took in his furrowed brow. She exited the Explorer into the cool night air, carrying Owen in her arms, and intercepted Daniel on the driveway. “Backup is on the way. What happened? Did someone break in?”
“They sure did. And they weren’t subtle.”
“What does that mean?” Rather than wait for his reply, Ellie sidestepped him. She hurried up the walkway. Her front door was open, the light in the kitchen illuminating the open-concept floor plan.
She gasped.