Jane Choate - The Littlest Witness

The man gave a loud whuff. Caleb rammed a fist into the assailant’s jaw. He must have had an iron jaw because he didn’t buckle. The intruder pivoted on one foot and slammed the other against Caleb’s chest.

Caleb dodged the worst of it but couldn’t completely escape the punishing blow. He spun, presenting his profile, a smaller target for the next attack. The assailant had obviously had close-quarters combat training, since he didn’t move away from Caleb’s fists but, instead, closed in.

Just as the stranger raised his fist, a look of consternation passed over his face. And then Caleb noticed it. The man was wearing earbuds. Someone, a handler probably, must have been issuing orders.

After casting Caleb a look that promised retribution, the man took off. What had his boss said that had caused him to give up so easily? He feared that the man realized he had the wrong target and Tommy was the intended one.

Caleb should have never left his nephew alone in the main house. Alfred and Irene Kruise had insisted it was best for Tommy, yet another instance where they had been wrong.

Whoever had sent a killer after Caleb might have also sent another after Tommy. But why? The boy didn’t know anything. Fury built in his chest at the idea of anyone hurting Tommy. Smother the rage, Caleb told himself as he retrieved his weapon. He didn’t have the luxury of giving in to it. Not now. Not when Tommy needed him.

Besides, there were bigger things he needed to concentrate on at the moment.

Three nights ago, Michael and Grace Judd had been gunned down in their own home while Tommy had watched. Caleb still shuddered at the thought of what his young nephew had endured. It was no wonder Tommy hadn’t said a word since witnessing the shooting of his parents. Some grief was too deep for words.

The next few hours were a blur as Caleb had made arrangements to leave his unit in Afghanistan and fly to Atlanta.

He was beyond exhausted, at a time when he couldn’t afford to make a mistake through a snap decision. One of the great ironies of life, though, was that in moments like these, snap decisions were all he had time for.

A different kind of fear settled in his heart. What was he to do with a seven-year-old boy? With no other family outside of a cousin, Michael and Grace had named Caleb Tommy’s guardian in the event of the unthinkable. And now the unthinkable had happened.

Ideally, a child needed two parents, a mother and a father. Where was Caleb supposed to come up with a mother? With one bad experience under his belt, he had no desire to get on the romance merry-go-round again.

Impatiently, he shoved those worries aside. Right now he had enough on his plate, including staying alive and protecting Tommy.

With the weapon he had retrieved from his duffel held close to his chest, Caleb sprinted to the main house to check on the boy. The humidity of the Georgia night pressed against him, stealing the breath from his lungs, but he scarcely noticed. Nothing mattered other than keeping his nephew safe.

Silently, he admitted what he’d refused to acknowledge since he’d learned of the murder of his brother and sister-in-law: he needed backup.

* * *

Shelley Rabb lifted the heavy brass knocker and rapped it against the door to the guesthouse of the Kruise estate. Set in an exclusive neighborhood that shouted old money, the estate was a showplace, filled with dark, waxy magnolias, stone fountains and an air of gentility that had her wondering if she should genuflect before presenting herself.

Everyone in Atlanta knew of Alfred and Irene Kruise, who were featured on the society page of the paper at least once a week and were considered Atlanta royalty. Kruise was a federal prosecutor, and his wife sat on the committees of a half dozen or so charities. An invitation to the estate was a coveted ticket, although this wasn’t exactly a social call. She was here as a favor to her brother, Jake.

“A buddy from Delta—Caleb Judd—called. He needs help,” her brother had said in a phone call early that morning. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

She knew that. Just as she also knew that she couldn’t refuse. Jake was on his honeymoon with his bride, Dani. No way would she drag him from that, not after what he and Dani had gone through.

“I owe him, sis,” Jake had said. For Shelley, that said it all.

If not for that, she wouldn’t have taken the case. She had enough on her plate as it was, including handling the protection for a state senator who had received threatening emails from someone opposed to his stand on environmentalism.

But Jake had played the brother card, and the truth was, she’d do just about anything for him. She’d felt protective of Jake ever since he’d returned home from the Middle East, broken in body and in spirit. Love had made all the difference, and it had been Dani who had made him take those first steps toward trust and love. For that, Shelley would always be grateful to her new sister-in-law.

She straightened her blazer so that it hung smoothly over the SIG-Sauer 9mm she carried in a custom-fit shoulder holster, and prepared to lift the knocker again when the door was yanked open by a man who looked ready to do murder.

He matched the description her brother, Jake, had given her of Judd. “You’re early.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yeah, it is,” came the blunt answer. Annoyance had drawn lines in his forehead, but she sensed she wasn’t the real target of his anger. “Come in.” He pointed to a small room off the main hallway. “In there. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Shelley narrowed her eyes. She didn’t take orders. From anyone.

Setting aside her irritation, she opened a set of French doors leading to a small office and took a seat on a navy leather sofa.

The sound of raised voices caught her attention. Unashamedly, she listened. If there was one thing she’d learned in the security/protection business, it was that there were many ways to glean important facts, and eavesdropping was one of the best.

“You’re making a mistake, taking Tommy away from here. This is the only place he’s been safe since it happened.” Frustration and worry sharpened a man’s cultured voice. Alfred Kruise, she guessed.

“Last night proved that it’s not safe.” The words, though quietly spoken, held the unmistakable ring of authority, and she recognized the voice of the man who had answered the door.

“We’ll tighten up security.” The first voice grew more strident with each word.

“It’s already settled. Tommy comes with me.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing. Tommy is Irene’s and my godson. We would do anything to protect him. Anything.” A pause, followed by a tremulous sigh. “Michael and Grace were family.”

“Maybe so, but I’m his guardian and I’m not leaving him here. I’ve already lost my brother and his wife. I’m not about to lose Tommy, too.”

“Have it your way. I only pray you don’t live to regret it.” The slam of a door emphasized the other man’s displeasure.

The man returned to Shelley. “I’m Caleb Judd.” He gestured to the slightly built boy with dark hair and eyes at his side. “My nephew, Tommy.” At Judd’s nod, Tommy settled in a corner and pulled a couple of miniature cars from his pocket.

“Shelley Rabb.”

Accustomed to sizing people up, Shelley studied S&J Security Protection’s newest client. In a black T-shirt, dark jeans and Frye combat boots, he looked dangerous and deadly. In her job, she’d come across plenty of influential men, men who wielded the kind of power that came with money and connections and political clout. Caleb Judd carried a different kind of power, the kind that came from within. There was an underlying current of energy to him, and though banked now, that raw force was evident in how he moved and the clipped cadence of his speech.