Page 17 of My One and Only (Blackhawk Security #10)

A s Cam got ready for bed, his temper simmered. Jo had no right to tell him how to raise Fiona. He should just ignore her words. Her criticism. She wasn’t a parent. And when you didn’t have kids, it was easy to tell other parents how to raise their child. Easy to think you knew all the answers when you didn’t actually live with a kid.

He knew Fiona better than anyone. He knew what she needed. What would make her happy. And it wasn’t going to other kids’ houses after school. Or having kids over here after school.

Are you sure about that? Have you ever asked Fiona what she wanted? Ever asked her if she wanted to play with other kids?

No. He hadn’t. He and Fiona had never talked about stuff like friends and playing with other kids. He’d always told himself she was too young. That she belonged at home.

But if he was honest, he’d seen the way she’d looked when she saw kids on a playground, running around, yelling, playing. He’d seen the longing in her face.

He’d seen how she looked at the other kids when they went to the river to feed the ducks -- like she wanted to go up to them. She’d wanted to feed the ducks with them. Wanted to be part of the group.

His baby was growing up, and maybe she did need to interact with other children.

Maybe Jo had a valid point. Maybe he wasn’t paying enough attention to what his daughter needed.

He wondered what she did at recess at school. Were there kids she played with every day? Did she have friendships with other kids in her class? Cam swallowed hard. Maybe he needed to make an appointment to talk to Fiona’s teacher. Find out what she saw every day with Fiona.

Anger at Jo coiled tightly inside him. She had no right to tell him how to raise Fiona. But part of him whispered that maybe she was right.

He didn’t like wondering about that. Didn’t like thinking that he wasn’t doing his best for Fiona. He’d die for his child.

But maybe he needed to start letting her live a full life.

He grabbed one of the pillows off his bed and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall and slid to the floor, but it didn’t make Cam feel any better.

Cam tossed and turned for what seemed like a long time. Finally, he fell into a fitful sleep, waking often to listen for any sounds from Fiona’s room, eventually falling back into a restless sleep.

* * *

Jo jolted awake in the darkened room. She didn’t drift out of sleep, she was immediately wide awake. She sat up in bed, the rustling of the sheets the only sound she heard. The house was silent. Still.

But something had woken her.

She slid out of bed and instinctively reached for her gun. It wasn’t on the nightstand, because there was a child in the house. So she slid open the top drawer of the dresser, safely out of Fiona’s reach. Curled her fingers around the Glock and set it on top of the dresser. Then, as quietly as possible, she reached for the jeans and sweater she’d taken off before falling into bed. Shucked out of her pajamas, then got dressed.

Wearing her jeans and sweater, she tucked the gun into the back of her jeans, then moved on bare feet down the hall. She glanced into Fiona’s room, saw the girl sprawled on the bed, sound asleep.

She moved over to Cam’s room. He was still asleep, as well.

As she walked toward the living room, she heard a noise from the kitchen. Edging around the corner, the Glock in her hand, she peered into the room. No one there. But now that she was closer, she heard more noise from the kitchen door. Someone was out there.

She moved silently back down the hall to her bedroom, closed the door and dialed 911. Gave Cam’s address and told the dispatcher that someone was at the back door, trying to break in.

As she ended the call, she cut off the dispatcher’s instruction to stay on the line. She wasn’t going to huddle in her room, talking to the dispatcher. She put the phone on silent, slid it into a pocket, then hurried into Fiona’s room.

Sliding her hands beneath the girl’s neck and knees, she scooped Fiona into her arms, cradled her against her chest and inhaled the sweet scent of little girl and baby shampoo as she carried her into Cam’s room. She set Fiona down on the bed next to him, then went around the bed and touched Cam’s shoulder.

He came awake immediately. When he tried to speak, she put her palm against his mouth. Bent close to his ear and breathed, “Someone’s at the back door. Trying to break in. Stay in here with Fiona. Don’t open the drapes to look out. I don’t want someone seeing you and shooting you in the head. Will you do that?”

When he nodded, she removed her hand. “I’m going to close your door. Do not come out of this room under any circumstances. Do you understand?”

When he nodded, she touched his arm. “I’ve got this, Cam. I’ve already called the police. They’re on their way. All you have to do is take care of Fiona. With any luck, she won’t even wake up.”

He nodded at Jo, holding her gaze.

As she reached the door to the hall, she looked at him over her shoulder. Murmured, “Stay in here.”

Then, without waiting for him to answer, she edged out of his room and closed the door behind her.

Her bare feet slid across the wood floor, taking her silently into the kitchen. She stepped into the shadows in the corner then crouched into a squat, hoping the table concealed her.

Listening intently, she heard nothing from Cam’s room. He was paying attention to what she’d told him. She hoped he stayed there to protect Fiona instead of charging out here to take down the intruder. Thank God for Fiona. If he didn’t have her to protect, there was no way Cam would wait in his room.

She heard the intruder working on the lock. Was he using a pick? Was he trying to unscrew the dead bolt? She focused on the sound -- he was using a pick. He’d probably get in. She was ready for him.

Finally, the door lock clicked. Loud in the thick silence of the house, but too soft for Cam to hear. Moments later, a narrow band of grey appeared between the door and the wall. The band of grey and the door both widened slowly, the door creaking once, and Jo silently thanked Cam for keeping the door oiled. She didn’t want Fiona to wake up.

When the door was halfway open, the intruder stepped inside. He wore all black clothing and had a black ski mask on his head. Only his eyes were visible. He scanned the room, missing her crouched beside the table. Then he eased the door closed and began to move through the kitchen.

As soon as he was past her, Jo stood up, holding her gun. He must have heard her, because he stopped. Began to turn around. But Jo was on top of him. Jamming her Glock into his back, she said, “Hands in the air. Now.”

He reached beneath his left arm, likely for a gun, and she pressed the barrel of her gun harder into his spine. “Hands in the air. Right now, or you’re going to be in a chair for the rest of your life.”

He hesitated for a moment, and Jo’s finger tightened on the trigger. Finally he lifted his hands over his head.

She plucked the gun out of his hand, set it on the floor and kicked it under the table. Then she pulled out a zip tie, slid her gun into her pocket and yanked his hands down and bound them together. Stepping back, once again holding the gun, she said, “Down on the floor. Now.”

He didn’t move, and she lifted the gun to the back of his head. “Drop now, or you won’t have to worry about being in a chair. You’ll be in the ground.”

He dropped to his knees and lay prone on the floor. Jo knelt behind him, staying out of his reach, while she bound his ankles together with zip ties. Then she patted him down, finding another gun and two knives.

She set them on the counter, then flipped him over, turned on the kitchen lights and yanked off the black ski mask. Studied his face, but she was certain she’d never seen him before.

“Two knives and two guns. You were planning on being busy, weren’t you?”

He pressed his lips together and didn’t respond.

“You don’t want to chat? That’s fine. We’ll just sit here quietly and wait.”

“Wait for what?” the guy asked.

“The police. I called them before you were even in the house.”

The guy jolted and flailed out with his legs, clearly trying to get the zip tie off. He could thrash all he wanted, but that wasn’t going to dislodge those zip ties.

“Who hired you to break in here and kill Cam and his kid?” she asked.

“Kid? I didn’t sign up to kill no kid.”

“But you did sign up to kill Cam Pierce, right?”

He pressed his lips together.

“That’s okay,” she said. “The police will get all the information we need.” She tilted her head. “In fact, I hear them getting close.” She tapped her gun on his head. “Show time.”

At least two cars pulled up in front of Cam’s house. Doors opened. Slammed shut. Feet pounded up the sidewalk. Knuckles rapped hard at the front door.

“Come around to the back door,” Jo called. “We’re in the kitchen.”

Running feet passed the side of the house. The door burst open, and a cop aimed a flashlight at the man lying on the floor.

Both cops squinted at the sudden brightness in the kitchen. Then two of the cops each grabbed an arm and hoisted the intruder to his feet.

“He was wearing that ski mask,” Jo said, pointing at the black hat on the floor.

“Do you recognize him, Ma’am?” one of the officers asked.

“No, but I wouldn’t. I’m Jo Hatch. Friend of Cam’s from high school,” she said easily. She wasn’t about to announce that she was his bodyguard. She didn’t want this stooge to report it to whoever hired him to kill Cam.

One of the police officers patted the guy down. Jo said, “He had two guns and two knives. One gun is under the table. The rest are on the counter there.” She pointed to the weapons. “Do you want me to get Cam? See if he knows the guy?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” As he spoke, the officer pulled the perp’s wallet out of his front pocket and opened it up to study his driver’s license.

Jo nodded and hurried out of the kitchen. She opened Cam’s bedroom door and slipped inside. Cam sat on the edge of his bed, Fiona in his lap. Her arms were laced tightly around his neck her face buried in his chest.

“Jo,” Cam said, relief flooding his voice. “He’s secured?”

“He is. The police have his weapons and they’re looking at his driver’s license. They’d like you to take a look at him. See if you know him.”

“I can do that.” He slid out of bed, wearing only pajama pants. He reached for his discarded clothing and pulled on a tee shirt, then looked at Jo. “Will you stay here with Fiona?”

“Of course. We’ll be fine.”

Cam slipped out of the room, and Jo sat down on his bed. Looked at Fiona, whose face was white with terror, and pulled the girl into her arms. Fiona immediately wrapped her arms around Jo’s waist. “Is that man going to hurt my daddy?” she asked.

“No, the police have his weapons. His wrists and ankles are tied up. The only place he’s going is to the police station and a jail cell.”

“Why did he come here, Ms. Jo?”

Jo inhaled a deep breath. “I’m not really sure, Fiona. Maybe he was hoping to steal some money from your daddy. Or maybe your daddy has something in his house that’s worth a lot of money.”

Fiona’s lips quivered. “Daddy always says I’m his treasure,” she managed to say. “Did he want me?”

“Absolutely not,” Jo said. Although maybe the intruder was after Fiona. Maybe they wanted to hold her hostage until Cam stopped investigating the accident and the bribes and the faulty fittings in the houses he was building.

Possible but unlikely, she finally concluded.

“No one is going to take you away from your daddy,” she whispered, tightening her arms around the girl. The only way they’d take Fiona was if Jo and Cam were dead. And since she had no intention of dying, there was no way they’d take either Cam or Fiona while she still had breath in her.

“Promise, Ms. Jo?” Fiona asked.

“Absolutely,” Jo said. “I promise I won’t let anyone take you away from your daddy. And I’m very fierce,” she said, making a growly face at Fiona.

Fiona giggled. “You’re silly, Ms. Jo.”

“That I am, Ms. Fiona,” she said, and Fiona buried her face in Jo’s shoulder.

Jo brushed the silky blond hair away from Fiona’s face and saw her eyes drooping. “I think your daddy might be talking to the police for a while.” Jo said. “Would you like to go back to sleep?”

“If you’re sure my daddy is okay?”

“I’m sure he’s okay. The police are here. They won’t let anything happen to him. That’s their job.”

“Okay,” Fiona said with a huge yawn. “I want to go back to bed.”

Jo got the girl settled in her bed, then she lay down beside her. Fiona snuggled into her, and Jo draped an arm over the girl’s back, running her hand over Fiona’s back again and again.

Fiona’s breathing slowed and deepened. Jo was almost certain she was asleep. But she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to rouse the girl before she was deeply asleep.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay next to Fiona, but she must have fallen asleep herself, because the next thing she knew, Cam was touching her shoulder and whispering, “Jo? Jo, are you awake?”

Her eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to stare up at Cam. “Yeah, I’m awake,” she said.

“Fiona’s asleep?”

“She is.” Jo disentangled her arm from around Fiona, slid off the bed and stood up. Instead of asking Cam questions, she moved into the hall and watched as Cam kissed Fiona’s head and rearranged the covers over his daughter. Then he eased out of her room and closed the door but didn’t latch it. Even after a break-in, he remembered the rules.

Once in the hall, he took Jo’s hand and drew her into the living room. Tugged her onto the couch. She turned to him and studied his face. He looked older than he’d looked earlier that evening. Beaten down. She grabbed his hands and squeezed them tightly. “Did you recognize the guy in the ski mask?”