Lisa Childs - Watching Over Her

But the van didn’t catch up again.

Blaine slowed down and, using his cell, called in the attempt to run them off the road. He described the van and then he asked for the nearest hospital.

“Do you think one of them was hurt?” Maggie asked as she peered behind them. But the van was no longer in view.

It might be where Blaine had left it smoking. Or the driver might have turned it around and tried to get somewhere they could hide it—the way they had tried to hide the getaway van between those Dumpsters in the alley.

He doubted blood would be found inside this van. He hadn’t been able to take any shots at them. So he explained, “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Her face was eerily pale, and he could see the frantic beat of her pulse pounding in her throat.

“No, you’re not fine,” he argued, as he followed the directions the local dispatcher had given him to the hospital.

If there was something wrong with her or the baby, it was his fault. He should not have brought her along with him. He hadn’t been any better at protecting her than the young officer the night before. Even with the van chasing them, he should have driven more carefully.

He slowed down on his way to the hospital. But he wanted her checked out. He wanted to make sure that she and the baby were fine.

Before he left them...

* * *

BLAINE HAD INTENDED to leave as soon as a doctor had taken Maggie into the ER to be checked out. But before he could cross the waiting room to the exit doors, another FBI agent, badge dangling down the front of a black leather jacket, showed up at the hospital.

“Agent Dalton Reyes,” the dark-haired man introduced himself, hand outstretched. He didn’t look much like the proverbial men in black since he wore a jacket and jeans instead of a dark suit.

But Blaine wasn’t wearing a suit, either—just black pants and shirt. Since interrupting the robbery in progress, he hadn’t had an opportunity to even take his suits out of their dry-cleaning bags.

“Reyes?” Ash had mentioned the young agent before. The Bureau had recruited him from an undercover gang task force with the Chicago PD. “You work organized crime?”

The dark head bobbed in a quick nod. “Yeah. Right now I’m working on a car-theft ring. The black cargo van that just tried running you off the road was recovered. It’s one these thieves grabbed yesterday. This ring is very organized and very professional. You put in a request, and they’ll steal the vehicle you want.”

Blaine had put out a request himself—for information on a ring just like this. “Thanks for getting back to me about this, but you could have just called...”

Reyes grinned. “I could’ve, but then I wouldn’t have gotten a chance to meet the infamous Blaine Campbell.”

“Infamous?” Blaine asked. He didn’t think that adjective had ever been used for him before.

“You’ve got quite a reputation.”

He groaned. “What has Ash told you?”

Dalton laughed. “Ash doesn’t talk. But he’s damn good at getting other people to talk.”

He was new to the Chicago Bureau, so people were bound to talk about him. To wonder what his story was, to worry that he might move up ahead of agents who had been there longer. He didn’t care to move into management; he just wanted to take criminals off the street. He had never wanted to put anyone away more than these suspects. They’d already killed Sarge and were determined to kill Maggie, too.

“How about you?” Blaine asked, turning the conversation back to what he really cared about: the case. “Can you get these car thieves to tell you who’s been putting in the requests for these vans?”

“I’ve got an inside man,” Dalton said. “So I’ve got confirmation that the bank robbers have been paying—and paying big—to get disposable vehicles for the bank heists.”

“Who?” he asked. “Who the hell are these robbers?”

Dalton shrugged. “My guys aren’t the kind who care about names. In fact, they would probably rather not know. The only thing they care about is cash.”

Blaine cursed as frustration overwhelmed him. He needed a lead and some hard evidence. “Does your inside man at least have a description of the guy ordering the vans?”

“Good-looking guy with dark hair and light eyes,” Dalton replied with a chuckle. “My inside man is actually a woman.”

That description matched the man from the security footage—the man who’d lifted Maggie into his arms. “I’ll send you a picture to see if she can confirm it’s my guy.”

Blaine would forward him a screen shot from the security cameras as well as Mark Doremire’s DMV picture. If he was the man, Blaine could link him to the vans and therefore the robberies. Maggie would have to accept his involvement.

But then it would probably be like losing Andy again—to lose another piece of him when she realized his brother wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.

He hadn’t been checking up on her as his brother had requested. He’d been casing the banks where she worked.

Dalton nodded. “Send me the photo. I’ll get it to my informant right away. Whatever you need to get these guys, let me know. I’m happy to help.”

He obviously knew about Sarge. Blaine sighed. “Ash must’ve talked some.”

Reyes nodded again. “Yeah. He said this one’s personal for you both.”

It was, but not just because of Sarge. It was personal because of Maggie, too.

“He thinks it might be extra personal for you, though,” Reyes continued, “because of the witness.”

He glanced toward the ER, where Blaine kept looking, wondering how Maggie and the baby were.

“Ash talks too damn much,” he said.

Reyes chuckled. “He’s worried about you. He thought I should tell you about another agent who works out of the Chicago Bureau, Special Agent Bell. He works serial killers.”

“Maggie’s not a serial killer,” Blaine said. She was not a criminal at all. “She’s a victim.”

“Yeah, Bell got too personally involved with a victim’s sister,” Reyes said. “It’s the case he never solved. The serial killer he never caught.”

Would these suspects be the ones that Blaine never caught—because he cared too much?

* * *

“YOU CAN’T GO!” Maggie exclaimed as she clutched at Blaine’s arm, panicking at the thought of being separated from him. Since the first moment she’d met him, she’d thought him a golden-haired superhero, and every time he saved her life he proved that he was her hero.

“There are local authorities here,” he said, gesturing with his free arm to where two police officers stood near the nurses’ station. “You’ll be safe.”

She shook her head in protest. He couldn’t pass her off to someone else again. He couldn’t leave her. She was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to protect her baby without him. “I’m not safe anywhere. Except with you.”

“Not even with me.”

“You kept me safe,” she said. “They were trying to run us off the road. We would have been killed if you hadn’t driven the way you had.”

His voice gruff, he brushed off her gratitude. “But I could have hurt you...”

“The doctor said that the baby and I are both fine,” she reminded him. “I can leave now. They don’t need to keep me for observation.” Blaine was the only one who wanted her to stay in the hospital with the local deputies guarding her. “I can leave with you now.”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze, just shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” she asked. “Where are you going? Have they found the van?” She’d seen the smoke from under the hood. It probably hadn’t gotten very far.