Lynette Eason - Protective Custody

She shivered even as sweat broke out across her forehead.

The darkness pressed in, although the floodlights illuminated her path. The night smelled of dogwood and honeysuckle. She walked the darkened edge, not wanting to make herself a target should anyone be watching from beyond the fence.

The two dogs, she’d learned, were retired police K-9s the Jeffersons had adopted after Stella Jefferson’s departure from the force. Carly had made friends with them, then turned them loose.

Pushing the earpiece deeper into her ear, she said, “All’s clear out here.”

“We’re settled in here,” Mason’s voice came back to her. “You want first watch?”

“Sure. What about the kids? Do they seem all right?”

“Yeah. Well, Christopher and I are big buds now. The girl…um…not so much.”

“I noticed that, too. They’ve had so much upheaval in their young lives…”

“I know. Just FYI, our judge is armed.”

She stopped just on the edge of the light, her eyes scanning the darkness even as her brain processed the conversation. “Excuse me?”

“He got his gun from a safe and loaded it.”

Carly thought about that for a minute then said slowly, “Well, he’s had the training. He knows how to use it.”

“Yeah, that was my take on it.”

“Then, good. I think.”

The floodlights clicked off. Her heart kicked up a notch as she froze. “Mason, did you do that?”

A quiet beat stretched between them. Then he said in a low voice. “No. The lights went off in here, too. Call for help and get in here.”

The other shoe had just dropped—with a bang.

Nick had just pointedly told Lindsey to get ready for bed. “And could you please lose the attitude? They’re here to help us.” He wouldn’t admit he wished he could throw a temper tantrum himself about the whole situation. But that wasn’t going to help anything.

Another eye roll. “Right.”

Frustration bit at him. Ever since her mother and aunt had been killed, Lindsey’s personality had done a one-eighty. She used to be so sweet, laughing at his silly attempts to bring a smile to her face, offering hugs with guileless spontaneity.

Then her mother and aunt died, and the bottom had dropped out of her world. Her grandmother leaving hadn’t helped the situation, either. Nick understood why his mom felt she had to leave. There simply wasn’t anyone else to take care of his aunt. But tell that to Lindsey.

With a sigh, he studied his niece’s mutinous expression and supposed she was coping the only way she knew how.

Then the lights went out.

Frustration morphed into concern, then outright fear as he realized what was happening.

“Lindsey, get over here.” He pressed the button on his iPhone to illuminate the room. The glow caught her startled, fearful expression.

“Why?” she demanded.

He strode to her and grasped her wrist in a light grip. “The power just went out, and I don’t know why yet. Stay with me and head to Christopher’s room.”

“I’ve got him.” Carly’s voiced reached out to him a few moments later in the dark. “Everyone stay together while we get to the safe area.”

An area she could defend, he thought. Drawing in a calming breath, he said, “The laundry room would be best. No windows and only one way in.”

“Good job. I’d already picked that place myself. We don’t have much time. The alarm wasn’t tripped, and without power it won’t be.”

“Yes, it will. I have a generator that kicks in for the alarm system. And the laundry room is off the kitchen.”

“You and the kids get in there.”

“Get my dog, Uncle Nick,” Christopher cried suddenly. “Pepper. I don’t want the bad people to get him!”

Carly shot him a look. “Dog?”

“A stuffed animal he sleeps with.” He placed a hand on Christopher’s head. “He’s safe and sound, tucked under your bed last time I saw him, okay?” Then he looked at Carly. “What about Debbie and the Jeffersons?” No way was he going to tuck his tail and run when people he cared about were in danger.

“Mason has them.” She spoke into her radio. “Meet us in the kitchen.” To Nicholas, she said, “Follow me and stay away from the windows.”

As they descended the slightly curved staircase, the sound of barking reached his ears. “The dogs aren’t happy. Someone’s on the grounds.”

“Or somewhere around the fence. I wish you had some closer neighbors who’d check out all the racket.”

The barking escalated.

A shadow passed the bay window in the den. “They’re outside the house,” he whispered. Lindsey clutched his hand, the sullen preteen now a scared young girl. Both children remained silent, eyes wide, breaths rasping. She noted Christopher seemed to be wheezing a little. “Do you have his inhaler?”

“In my pocket.” Nicholas fumbled in the front pocket of his jeans.

His heart thudded, not so much in fear for himself as for the kids and his staff. And the marshals. Most specifically, Carly.

God, please don’t let anyone get hurt. I know she’s skilled in her job, but I can’t live with someone else I know dying…

Her right hand gripped Christopher’s; her left curled around the gun. She motioned them left at the bottom of the steps, across the den and into the kitchen. She opened the laundry-room door and said, “All right. In you go. Lock it behind you.”

Thankfully, he’d installed the lock on the laundry-room door when the kids had come to live with him. He hadn’t wanted Christopher to accidentally get into the household supplies he kept in there.

Although if someone was determined to get in, neither the door nor the lock would hold against a swift kick with a booted foot.

Nick felt the weight of his weapon pressing against his lower back and itched to pull it out. Why hadn’t the alarm gone off? Then he realized that he hadn’t heard the generator kick in.

Lips pressed into a thin line, he motioned the kids in. Mason, Debbie and the Jeffersons appeared next to him. He reached across the counter and grabbed the telephone.

Dead.

Grimly, he reported, “No power and no generator for some reason. Phone line’s been cut, too.”

“Great,” Mason muttered.

“Get in,” Nick urged. Debbie led the way. The children immediately attached themselves to her side. Nick handed the inhaler to her, and she passed it to Christopher, who stuck it in his mouth for a good puff. His eyes pleaded with Nick as he whined, “I want Pepper.”

Nick rubbed his head. “I’ll go get him in just a minute, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise. You just concentrate on breathing, okay?”

Christopher gave a reluctant nod. The Jeffersons entered the room, and Nicholas shut the door.

Carly looked at him. “What are you doing? Get in there.”

He narrowed his eyes on her and pulled his gun from the back of his waistband. “Not a chance.”

“This is what we’re here for, remember?” she protested.

Mason motioned toward the front of the house. “No time to argue. Judge, you stay back and out of sight if you can. Use the gun if necessary.”

“You’re not making this any easier.” Carly’s nose flared as she shot him a look mixed with anger and fear. Nicholas understood her anger, wondered at her fear.

“This is my fight,” he insisted. “I won’t deny I might need help, but I refuse to sit on the sidelines while somebody else fights it.”

Carly bit her lip and forced aside visions of him lying in a pool of blood.

Her gut clenched and a protest hovered on her lips. Then a loud crash came from just ahead. Carly stepped in front of Nicholas and pointed her gun in the direction of the sound. “Freeze!”

Running footsteps sounded. The flash of a large shadow darted around a corner. Nicholas brushed past her and took off in pursuit. Mason ran the other way, and Carly knew he was looking to cut off the intruder.