Heather Woodhaven - Protected Secrets

A toddler-shaped lump on Bruce’s side wiggled and giggled. Thankfully they’d reached the back of the ambulance. The paramedics shoved the gurney up the silver ramp into the ambulance.

Deputy Jim Lewis had a seat on a gray bench with an ice pack on the back of his head. “I don’t know how they got a jump on me.” His eyes implored her to understand. “I’ll be more cautious now, you can count on that. You’re the lead. You can waive procedure and tell me I don’t have to get checked for a knock on the head so I can get back to work.”

“Not a chance.” She took a seat beside him as the doors closed behind them. “You’re staying right here in this ambulance, because I’m going to need you in a moment.”

One paramedic sat on the opposite side of the stretcher as the ambulance began to move. Winnie flung down the sheet and popped upright. “Find me.” As fast as she’d appeared, she vanished with giggles. “Daddy, you hide, too.”

“It’s definitely time for you to find us.” Bruce’s muffled voice came from underneath the sheet that now covered his face.

Delaney’s chest seized, as if a hard, protective layer around her heart was being ripped apart, one tiny square at a time. The paramedic and Jim watched her with anticipation. She leaned forward and pulled back the blanket to find Winnie’s wide eyes. “Found you,” she said softly.

Winnie twisted so her face smashed against Bruce’s side, but the little girl’s laughter would not be contained and proved contagious to the other occupants of the ambulance.

The paramedic beamed and leaned back into his seat. “I tell you what, young lady. We don’t usually have a lot of laughter in the back of this vehicle. Would make my job a lot easier if we did.” He leveled a pointed look at Delaney. “We’re almost to the hospital if you need to arrange a ride.”

“Of course.” She pulled out her phone. “Jim, I need you to switch places with Bruce.”

Jim began to object.

“You’re taking his place as an added precaution, so we can slip away unnoticed. Bruce, put on the marshal’s hat.”

Bruce sat up and tried to hand Winnie to her. She froze until the little girl reached out her arms. Delaney’s back tensed but she reached forward and took Winnie. It wasn’t a big deal to hold the little girl so the men could switch positions without kicking someone in the head. Logically, she knew that.

It felt dangerous, though. It was becoming harder and harder not to think about her own daughter out there somewhere. Delaney had a little over fifteen years left before she could ask for the sealed adoption records to be opened.

“Let’s play hide again,” Winnie said.

“Maybe after we’re in the hotel, okay?” A hotel wasn’t ideal, as it required a lot more manpower to adequately protect a witness, but she didn’t have another safe house arranged in town. The less they had to travel, the better.

She dialed the chief deputy’s number and hoped the second team on the way had an extra vehicle for her. Every moment spent in the hospital—the very place where she’d delivered her daughter—would be torture. Even thinking about it, she could smell the phantom aromas of antiseptics and disinfectants. Her scars remembered the tenderness and pain after the emergency surgery. Winnie snuggled closer, and the smell of baby shampoo in her hair shifted Delaney’s focus.

The chief deputy answered, and she wasted no time outlining her plan to keep Bruce and Winnie safe. She held her head high as she spoke and hoped no one could hear the fear and doubt lacing every word.

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