Heather Woodhaven - Protected Secrets

While Bruce’s face had lost its color, he didn’t look injured. His hand shook ever so slightly as he pointed to the GPS. The blue screen had a message in the middle. Final Warning. Open your mouth and your family dies.

THREE

Bruce placed a hand on either side of his face. “It’s been hacked.”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “What are you talking about?”

He blinked and tried to slow down the torrent of emotions and thoughts so he could communicate rationally. “This vehicle has been hacked. The brakes, the engine dying, the message on the GPS... Those things can be controlled remotely if someone knows our location. They were playing with us. My daughter—” He pulled in a shaky breath. They’d only been gone from the safe house for five minutes. If someone had been tracking them in the vehicle, then it was likely the hacker knew their point of origin.

Her eyes widened. “The safe house. You’re saying the attackers know where it is.” She picked up the handset. “We’ve been compromised. I need a new vehicle, stat. Where are you guys?”

The speakers crackled in response. “You’re not going to believe it. Our engines died the moment we got off the highway.”

“Both of them?” Delaney took a deep breath while she checked all three mirrors. Bruce followed her gaze. So far the gunmen hadn’t returned. “They set us up.” Delaney pulled out her cell phone and dialed the police for backup. After the call was completed, she sat back, shaking her head. “I don’t understand how this could be happening.”

“Newer cars have a few different ways hackers can access control. If this one has a tire sensor, that’s the simplest way to hack into the brakes and disable the engine.” He waved toward the hood of the car. Talking about practical matters wasn’t helping his heart rate. If he thought he could get back faster on his own, he’d try to run back to Winnie on foot. “I need to know Winnie is okay. I need to know now.”

“There are two deputy marshals watching over her. I’m sure Winnie is safer than we are at the moment. It’s safer if we don’t make direct contact.” She clicked the radio. “I need a status report from Deputy Marshal Jackson. Use back channels.”

They sat in tense silence for the longest thirty seconds of his life before the radio crackled. “No response as of yet,” the deputies from the other SUV answered. “Backup units on the way from Des Moines.”

Bruce tightened his fists. “From Des Moines?” He couldn’t wait an hour to find out if his daughter was safe or in the hands of dangerous criminals.

“Bruce, you’ve been great so far. Look at me.”

Bruce swiveled and stared into Delaney’s eyes, searching for answers.

She touched his arm. “We aren’t waiting around. The police will be here in one minute. Sometimes back channels take longer to get an answer. We can’t jump to conclusions.”

Bruce exhaled, but his insides wouldn’t stop vibrating. Winnie was his all, his everything. She had stolen his heart from the moment he held her tiny form in his arms.

As promised, a police cruiser pulled up, but Delaney wouldn’t let him step out of the SUV yet. She kept her hand on her weapon as she approached the vehicle, likely checking the officer’s identification. Every moment of procedural caution made him want to jump out of his skin, but if he complained or fought it, he would just cause more delay. Lord, please, just get me to Winnie. Keep her safe.

He opened his eyes as Delaney opened the door. “I’m afraid the back seat of a police car isn’t very comfortable.”

He grunted and walked behind her to the unit. He’d walk on glass if it’d get him to his daughter faster. Bruce slipped into the back seat. Delaney slammed the door and joined the cop in the front.

“No sirens, but get to this address as fast as possible,” Delaney said.

The officer didn’t hesitate to punch the gas. Bruce slid across the plastic bucket seats and grasped the seat belt with one hand during the U-turn. At least Delaney was taking the threat seriously. At this rate, they really would be back to the safe house quickly.

“Uh, how are you doing?” the policeman asked Delaney. “We’ve missed you on the force.”

Even from the back seat, the look Delaney shot the other officer seemed made of ice. “I’m fine.”

“We miss Raymond, too, you know,” the officer said.

She nodded but didn’t reply. Bruce wondered if the words that hinted at tragedy explained her aloof demeanor toward him and Winnie. Not that it really mattered. He didn’t need Delaney to care about him and his daughter—he just needed her to protect them, as she’d said she would. But was that a promise she’d keep? Words didn’t mean much compared to action.

His wife had promised so much, but she still left him and Winnie without a second glance. His stepbrother had written his company’s mission statement and promised to be his partner, but he’d quit and run to the Cayman Islands six months ago. No, promises really didn’t mean much.

Delaney turned in her seat to face him, an impressive feat given the high-speed turns. “The Marshals are alerting the Assistant US Attorney to what’s happened. The interview will be rescheduled.”

“I can’t even think of testifying at the moment.”

“So don’t think about it. For now.”

The radio crackled but Bruce couldn’t make out what was said.

“Did something happen?”

“Not necessarily. Deputy Marshal Jackson still hasn’t checked in, so we’re going to proceed with caution.” Delaney pointed to the left, and the cruiser stopped at the sun-bleached pink house. The last two days had felt like a living nightmare. He’d worked so hard to maintain a positive attitude and believe that everything would work out, only to walk straight into a trap.

“Stay here,” Delaney hollered. She jumped out of the vehicle at the same time as the officer.

“That’s not happening.” Bruce reached for the car handle but found there was none. He pounded the seat in frustration. Another police vehicle pulled up at the opposite street corner, and two more cops rushed toward the house.

Delaney held her weapon up and gestured at the other officers to go around the building. A male voice shouted, “Officer down,” and Bruce groaned. Someone had definitely found the safe house. Please, let Winnie be okay. He searched desperately for another way out of the police vehicle, but there was nothing to do but watch.

Delaney squatted low to the ground and entered the house. Bruce strained his eyes, hoping he could somehow see past the house’s grimy windows and blinds. Sirens sounded in the distance. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t let himself blink. He should be inside there, protecting his daughter.

An officer sauntered toward the cruiser that was holding him prisoner. Bruce clenched his jaw, wanting to yell at him to speed up. The officer reached his hand out and the door trapping him in the back seat finally swung open.

“The Deputy Marsh—”

Bruce vaulted out of the car into a sprint, past the officer. He vaguely heard the man shout but didn’t care what was being said. Right now, the only thing that mattered was Winnie. An ambulance siren’s wail grew closer.

He barreled into the house, squinting in the dim light. Another deputy, Francine, was on the ground, limp but conscious. A cop held her wrist while looking at his watch to count her pulse.

Delaney stepped out of a bedroom. Her arms cradled Winnie, her head bent over his daughter, as if in a cuddle. Bruce’s insides fought between icy cold and raging heat at the sight.

She glided forward, her steps soft and rhythmic, across the room, whispering, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” One of Winnie’s arms wrapped around the back of Delaney’s neck while the other clung tightly to Lovey. “Winnie, your daddy is here.”