Lynette Eason - Protective Custody

She counted one person inside the house.

But how many were outside?

Sirens sounded in the distance. Help was on the way. She hoped the approaching authorities would scare off whoever was on the property. The dogs were barking like crazy. How had the intruders gotten past them?

Carly followed Nicholas, determined to back up whatever he was doing. She’d hold on to the tongue-lashing she wanted to give him until after everyone was safe.

Rounding the corner, she pulled up short. Nicholas had his back up against the side of the house, his gun held steady, aiming into the dark. “What is it?”

“Two of them ran toward the woods.”

Carly radioed it in. A police helicopter would head their way. They’d also notify the authorities to be on the lookout for cars coming from this direction.

“Carly!”

Mason. She motioned for Nicholas to follow her back into the house. Police now swarmed the property. Mason stood in the den area talking to several officers and barking out orders.

“What is it, Mason?”

Her partner looked up as she walked in. “He—or they—got away, but one of the dogs snagged this.”

With a gloved hand, he held up a piece of fabric. Carly wrinkled her nose. “What is it?”

“A piece of a shirt, I think.” In his other latex-covered hand, he held up wire cutters. “We’ll have the lab test this for prints, but I don’t think they’ll get anything. Whoever is after Nick is smart and they’d have had gloves on. It’s a no-brainer.”

“Still, we’ve got to try. We might get pleasantly surprised and catch a break.”

Mason grunted his disagreement as he set the two pieces of evidence aside to be taken to the lab, but didn’t argue. She knew he secretly hoped she was right.

Nicholas ran his fingers through his already tousled hair and sighed. “Why didn’t the generator kick in when they cut the power? And how did they get past the dogs?”

“The dogs were maced,” Mason informed them. “They came prepared to take the dogs out. As for the generator, I checked on that. It’s been dismantled.” Mason paced from one end of the den back to them.

“How?” Nicholas snapped. “It’s in a closed area that blends in with the house. How would they know where to find it?”

Carly drew in a deep breath and shared a glance with Mason, who said, “Our intruders did their homework. They’ve probably been doing it ever since they found out you were going to be sitting on the case. These guys are good, professional killers.” He sighed and rubbed his chin. “But why strike here? Professional killers prefer to work from a distance. Why didn’t they shoot you instead of Harrison Frasier?”

Carly sighed. “Good point. Unless,” she pondered, “they don’t really care if you’re dead or not. They just want you off the case. If they can scare you off, why bother to kill you?” She threw her hands into the air. “Who knows? I do know this—we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Nicholas shot her a ferocious frown. A hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, and Carly’s palms actually itched with the sudden impulse to massage the tension from his shoulders.

Get a grip, she ordered herself and curled her traitorous hands into fists. She stepped forward and placed a hand on Nicholas’s arm almost before she thought about what she was doing.

Footsteps sounded and Carly jumped back, but not before Nick’s frown softened and his eyes glinted with something she wasn’t able to put a label on.

Lindsey rushed into the room and wrapped her arms around her uncle’s waist. Christopher grabbed a leg and held on. His breathing seemed much better, Carly noticed.

Nicholas placed a hand on each of the children’s shoulders and reassured them with pats and hugs. “Everything’s fine, kids. Go on up and get in your beds. I know it’s going to be almost impossible to sleep, but you try for now.” He shot a pleading look at Debbie. “I know you’re not on duty at night, but do you think…”

“I’ll take care of them.” Debbie stepped forward and held out her hands. “Come on, Chris, let’s go make sure Pepper’s all right and give him a big hug.” Christopher eyes brightened, but he still gave one last lingering glance at his uncle before following Debbie to the stairs. “Can I jump on the bed, Debbie?”

The woman gave a low chuckle. “Maybe just a few bounces.”

Lindsey seemed to have found her attitude again and glared at him. “Why don’t you just drop the stupid case so we can have our lives back?”

With that parting shot, she turned on her heel, shoving past Debbie and Christopher.

“Lindsey…” Nick’s voice trailed off when he realized his niece had no intention of heeding his call. With a sigh, he shut his eyes and stood without moving for several seconds. Carly knew he was wondering if he should go after her or not, and her heart ached for him.

She offered him her unsolicited advice, keeping her voice low and trying to offer encouragement. “Give her some space. She’ll be all right.”

Although why she wanted to make him feel better was beyond her. How many hours had she lain awake thinking about her mentor, Hank, who had been cut down coming out of his granddaughter’s ballet recital? How many times had she railed at the heavens for placing a judge on the bench who didn’t care that he was releasing a monster back into the world?

And yet…she felt something for him. Her traitorous heart kept wondering if maybe she had things skewed. Maybe she didn’t know all the facts about that case.

“I know,” Nick finally said. “She’s just had it so rough for so long—and now this.”

A loud thump sounded from upstairs, and Carly started, her hand on her gun. Mason took up guard next to Nick.

“It’s just Christopher,” Nick said, holding up a hand to stop her progress.

She paused. “What do you mean?”

A guilty flush started appeared on his face. “Um…he likes to jump on the bed, and I let him…sometimes.”

“That was a pretty loud thump.”

“Yeah, he likes to put his beanbags on the floor and…” Another thump sounded, and Carly flinched.

“…jump from the bed to the beanbags,” she finished for him.

He shrugged. “Yep.”

“Okay. That’s good information to have. However—” she looked at Mason “—why don’t you go check to make sure?” He nodded and left. Carly paced to the kitchen and back then shot a glance at Nick. “That’s sweet of you to let him do something most parents would yell about.”

Another guilty flush appeared, and he looked away. Inspiration hit her. “You do it, too, don’t you?”

He raised a brow, going for the innocent look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, no, you don’t, Nicholas Floyd, you don’t fool me.” She shook a finger at him. “Not only do you do it, too, I bet you taught him!”

Nick shoved his hands into his pockets, and Carly swore he was hiding a grin. “Well, I…”

Carly crossed her arms and put on her stern look. “Come on, Judge, how do you plead?”

He let out a sigh and the little-boy look on his face tugged at her heartstrings. “Guilty as charged, ma’am.”

Carly felt her heart thaw about ten degrees. She sobered and looked into his eyes, thought about asking him about the murderer he’d let go. No not now, she decided.

Nicholas placed a hand on her arm, and she felt the touch clear to her toes. She turned a questioning look at him, as he said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For not giving me a hard time about not hiding out and leaving the bad guys to you.”

Crossing her arms over her middle, Carly zeroed in on his eyes. “Yeah, about that. We’re going to have to have a little heart-to-heart about some of those rules we kind of skipped over earlier.”