Heather Woodhaven - Credible Threat

His feet shifted as if uncomfortable. “You’ve met my fellow marshal, Delaney Patton. She and the police have secured your grandfather’s house. I’ll take you back there now, if you’re ready.”

She looked around the room but realized she had no personal effects. If Grandpa hadn’t brought her shoes, she wouldn’t even have that.

They walked to the elevator and parking lot in silence until they reached a massive white pickup.

He exhaled. “I wasn’t expecting...uh... We should have an official sedan available in a day or so. I hope you don’t mind riding in this today.”

“No, I don’t care a bit.”

He opened the door for her and offered his hand. She almost refused it except her head still hurt and it was quite a big step up into the seat. The moment her fingers touched his palm, her stomach flipped. He jerked his hand back as if she’d shocked him with static electricity. She elected to use the inside door handle to help her into the cab instead and he kept his sights on their surroundings, constantly swiveling his head until he closed the door behind her.

When she’d first met him, he’d seemed more friendly and approachable, but maybe she’d misjudged. As he slid into the driver’s seat she asked, “So have you been a deputy marshal a long time?” He nodded but said nothing.

“Enjoy your work?”

Another nod.

Well, he wasn’t going to help her keep her mind off the attack at this rate. She leaned back into the seat as he cranked the car’s ignition. Music blared through the speakers. She flinched at the sound of violins feverishly accelerating through the measures.

“Sorry.” The marshal swiftly turned down the volume. “I wasn’t expecting a passenger.”

“What was that?” she asked with emphasis on each word.

“An orchestral arrangement of ‘Toccata and Fugue in D Minor’ by Bach.”

She felt her eyes widen. The idea of a buff marshal driving a beefed-up truck with classical music booming cracked her up. “I didn’t mean the song title...” She gestured at the speakers inside the truck.

His lips curved to the side. “You were expecting country?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” She looked at his profile. “More like hard rock.”

He shrugged. “I rock out...to classical music.” A small smile crept up and threatened to melt her knees as he glanced at her before backing out of the parking lot. “The instrumental music keeps my head clear. It helps my focus.”

He squeezed the steering wheel and frowned as if surprised he’d just admitted as much to her. “We’d better get you to safety.” He reached in the back seat with one arm and handed her a ball cap with the Marshals star logo in the center. “Wear this and keep your head down.”

The solemn reality of her situation came crashing down. She followed his directions and slouched in the seat. The conversational, encouraging man disappeared once again. Her first impression must’ve been completely wrong. The man was all business. Until they found her attacker it would be like hanging out with a brick wall. All the more motivation to figure out who the intruder was and to get him behind bars so she could go back to living her life.

Five silent minutes passed before he pulled into Grandpa’s driveway. Two police officers on either side of the entrance waved them forward. The garage opened to reveal Delaney inside, standing next to the controls and connecting door. She, at least, offered a welcoming smile.

Rebecca reached for the door handle.

“Stay in the vehicle until the garage is secure,” Kurt said. He watched the rearview mirror until they were enclosed.

Delaney walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger door. “I’m sure you’re ready to rest,” she said.

“Did you find anything off the letter opener?”

“I’m afraid we haven’t found it at all yet.”

Everything looked different inside the house. All the blinds had been pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The soothing view of the mountains and the lake had been replaced with a kitchen counter full of walkie-talkies and other contraptions Rebecca didn’t recognize.

“I’ve arranged for the police to take shifts on the perimeter of the property. Judge Linn’s assistant has been gathering any cases she thinks worthy of note, aside from our own log of threats.” Delaney tapped her phone with each sentence as if checking off a list as she spoke to Kurt.

“How many threats have been made?” Rebecca asked.

Kurt and Delaney both wore the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look, as if they’d forgotten she was in the room. Delaney was the first to snap out of it and held her hand out to Kurt, as if waiting for him to answer. When he looked uncomfortable, she faced Rebecca. “You have to keep in mind that there are over two thousand sitting federal judges. And in any given year we could have anywhere from five hundred to over a thousand threats.”

“I’m not asking about the others. How many has my grandfather received during his time as a judge?” Rebecca put her hands on her hips. She knew from auditing hundreds of companies when someone was trying to keep something from her. “Or would it be better that I ask my grandfather directly?” She wanted to help law enforcement remove the threat, but she would not stand to be treated like a frail wallflower.

Kurt faced her but didn’t make eye contact. “Almost three hundred.”

She lost the ability to breathe for a moment. Three hundred people had threatened to hurt or kill Grandpa or his family? Her family? “That’s...wow.” No wonder her dad wanted to keep her as far away from the judge as possible. He’d made her promise she wouldn’t go into law enforcement or be with someone who was.

Maybe she could find some of the threats online. Surely some of them had made the news. Then she could identify the man and wrap it up before dinner. She spun in a circle, looking around the wooden floor for her phone. Hopefully the screen protector had worked as promised.

“I found your phone,” Delaney said. “We haven’t screened it yet, though, so please avoid using it. Tracey, the officer outside, has agreed to act as a courier until his shift ends. Our computer guy, Mike, will stay late to scan any electronics for spyware as soon as you bag it up. I’ll keep you updated.”

Rebecca held up her hand in a half-hearted wave but Delaney was already halfway out the door.

“If you don’t mind unlocking your phone for me, I need to take a superficial look before we bag it.”

Even the timbre of his voice made the back of her neck tingle. She crossed to the counter to pick it up. “Okay. But can I ask why?”

“Precautionary step, and I’ve been trained to see red flags that might speed up tracking the attacker. After our guy at the courthouse takes care of it, we’ll feel confident you can use it. Mike’s an expert. You’ll have it back in no time. Like the judge, you are accepting our protection detail of your own free will. You don’t have to, but I recommend it.”

“You don’t have to convince me.” She tried to smile as she thought about everything on her device. He’d see all of her app choices, like the funny photo manipulation application her niece, Mandy, insisted she try for all the selfies they exchanged. Not to mention the games Mandy begged her to download like Minecraft and Candy Crush. “I’ve been meaning to delete a few things anyway.”

“I understand.” His lips shifted to the right as if trying not to laugh at her.

“Maybe I can just do that real quick before—”

He lost the war and laughed. “Rebecca, it’d be better if you let me check first. I’m not here to judge.”

It was a glimmer of the man who’d first come in to interview her. Maybe he switched on the no-nonsense persona when in protection mode.