Buch lesen: «The Littlest Witness»

ONE

A muffled footstep awakened Caleb, setting him on high alert. There was no reason anyone should be here. No good reason, that is. Calmly, he slipped from the bed and stepped behind the draperies, just as an intruder entered the bedroom.

Another man might have panicked, but Caleb Judd was not just another man. Instinctively, he clicked into Delta mode, a heightened sense of awareness overtaking him, his vision sharpening, his hearing growing more acute. His breathing remained regular, his pulse steady, courtesy of training from the United States Army.

No one should have gotten in. Alfred Kruise had boasted about the state-of-the-art alarm system when he’d offered Caleb use of the guesthouse, insisting that both he and his nephew, Tommy, were safer here than they would have been anywhere else.

Kruise had been wrong.

The alarm system hadn’t gone off. Probably disabled.

A pro.

The stranger’s movements were nearly silent as he made his way toward the bed, his intentions clear. He wanted Caleb. But why? He had his share of enemies, but they weren’t personal. Fighting his country’s enemies was what he had been doing when he’d gotten the call about Michael and Grace’s murders.

But now here he was in Atlanta, Georgia, eight thousand miles from Afghanistan, facing a gunman who clearly wanted to eliminate him. The only reason Caleb could think of was connected to his brother Michael, but that made no sense.

With his own weapon packed in his duffel bag, he had no chance of going for it. If he were going to take the man down, it would have to be with his hand.

Recognizing the disadvantages of his position, he relied on the faith that had sustained him through countless encounters with the enemy. It had never deserted him, even upon learning of the deaths of his brother and his wife.

Caleb registered the assailant’s weapon held in a steady hand. A Walther. A good choice for an assassination. He’d probably appreciate it more if he weren’t the intended target. He stepped out from behind the draperies and kicked out, knocking the weapon from the man’s hand.

The would-be killer, who had to be several inches taller than Caleb’s own six feet and weighed at least two hundred and twenty pounds, recovered quickly and grabbed for the weapon. Caleb spun, delivered a roundhouse to the man’s chest, but fatigue and unrelenting grief had taken their toll upon him, making his effort lack its customary power.

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.

His posture shouted his military background, as did his closely cropped hair. The tanned, weathered face had the hard lines of a man who did not spend his days in the office or the gym. And his battle-ready stance and sharp gaze were so like her brother, Jake’s, that she almost did a double take.

Judd looked as out of place as she felt in the sumptuous surroundings. Score one for him.

“Thanks for coming.” His words sounded as though he’d just gargled with cut glass, and Shelley winced at the pain underscoring them.

“Thank me when I’ve done something.”

Shelley chose her clients carefully. S&J—her and Jake’s initials—was her company. The clients didn’t have to be wealthy, but they did have to be honest. At least with her. A recent client had been megarich, but he hadn’t been trustworthy. She’d returned his retainer and suggested he find someone whose ethics were as challenged as his own.

The tightening of Judd’s jaw and the impatient tapping of boots on the hardwood floor reminded her that he was Delta, a man who understood action. Still, she had a duty to him, as a client, and to herself, to make certain she could handle the job.

On a silent sigh, she acknowledged she was only postponing the inevitable. Of course she’d take the job. She didn’t have a choice.

She looked into his blue eyes and resisted the urge to flinch when she saw nothing but ragged grief staring back at her. She supposed he might be considered attractive if his mouth were smiling. As it was, it was a hard line that compressed his lips together.

It looked as though he was holding himself together just as tightly. Tension radiated from him in palpable waves. From the harsh cast of his face and sleep-deprived features, he’d obviously gone through unspeakable pain since learning of the murders. But pain was not the only thing she read in his gaze. There was guilt, as well. She ought to know. She saw it every time she stared at herself in the mirror.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

“Can you?” Judd retorted. “Do you know what it is to lose a brother?”

“I came close with Jake,” she said, unoffended. “There were times when I didn’t know if he would make it back.”

Judd scrubbed a hand over his face, the rasping sound drawing her attention to the whiskers that darkened his jaw. She watched as he struggled to temper his voice. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Don’t apologize. We’ve got more important things to discuss.”

“Like how I should have been there for him.” Self-loathing coated his voice. “I told Michael he was in over his head. If he’d listened...if I had been there...”

She nodded to herself, confirming her earlier supposition that he was suffering from a crippling case of guilt. She didn’t try to talk him out of it. Guilt exacted its own price in its own time.

Movements she suspected were normally smooth and economical were jerky, awkward, as though he didn’t know what to do with the adrenaline instigated by fear and worry. “Jake told you why I need help?”

After making sure that the little boy wasn’t within earshot, she turned back to Judd and answered in a low voice, “He said your brother and his wife had been killed and that you were attacked last night.”

Other than the tightening of his mouth, Judd failed to react to the bald recitation of facts. He was probably in shock. The man had lost his brother and sister-in-law, had taken on the care of his nephew and had faced down a probable assassin, all within the space of a few days.

“You probably have the same questions I do,” she said. “Was someone trying to kill you? Or just scare you off? What makes you a target?”

Judd didn’t immediately answer. His gaze strayed to Tommy, who was still crouched on the floor, playing with his miniature cars. Of course his first concern was his nephew.

“I wish I knew.”

Shelley paused. What was she doing, taking on a case that involved a child, a traumatized one at that? Every instinct in her told her that it was a mistake, but Caleb Judd had saved Jake’s life. S&J owed him. She owed him.

And she always paid her debts.

Honor, plus an unwavering faith, was the cornerstone of how she conducted her life and ran her business.

She knew clients wanted promises that everything would be fine. She longed to give them just that. However, she couldn’t give what she didn’t have. If she’d learned anything in her years as a cop, then as an agent with the Secret Service, it was that life didn’t come with guarantees.

Bad things happened to good people. She ought to know. The nightmare had resurfaced last night, and she’d beaten herself up over it, just as she always did. She’d awakened covered in sweat, guilt-laden and hurting.

She forced that aside and concentrated on Judd, who was rubbing two fingers above his nose as though to relieve a deepening headache.

A soldier’s soldier was how Jake had described Caleb Judd. “The man doesn’t have a single nerve in his body. He’s totally cool no matter what’s going on around him.” Jake didn’t hand out praise easily. If he vouched for Judd, that was good enough for her.

Judd wasn’t looking totally cool now, though, she noted with a wave of compassion. He was beside himself with worry.

“I did some digging on the man your brother was prosecuting,” she said. Upon promising Jake she’d provide security/protection to Caleb and his nephew until Michael and Grace’s killers were caught, she’d crammed for this meeting, wanting to know everything she could find about the case. Caleb nodded impatiently, so Shelley took a deep breath and went on. “Jeremy Saba. He’s never been convicted, never even been indicted. But he stands to go away for a long time if he’s found guilty this time.” Though Shelley had never worked on a RICO case before, she knew enough to understand the seriousness of the charges. “Is there anybody else I should know about?”

“One time Michael said something about a new player making a name for himself.”

“Did he give you a name?”

“Ruis Melendez. My brother said he was a big shot in a Florida crime family.”

Shelley digested that. “Anything else?”

Caleb shook his head.

She darted another concerned look in Tommy’s direction, but he still appeared oblivious to what was going on around him. Nevertheless, she lowered her voice. “But even with your brother no longer on the case, nothing really changes. The charges still stand. So why target Michael?”

“Do you know how long it takes to build a case of this nature?” Judd demanded, his tone as sharp as barbed wire. “Michael got closer than anyone else to nailing this creep. Saba has to know that if he could get Michael off the case, everything slows down, maybe even comes to a complete standstill.”

“I get that. I wondered if you did.” Shelley nodded in satisfaction. “You’re okay, Judd.”

“So I passed?”

“Yeah. You passed.” She gave a half smile. “Now you’re wondering if I will. You don’t know what I can do. I get that, too. I won’t let you down.”

His expression grew hard. “If you do, I’ll cut you loose so fast your head will spin.”

“Fair enough.”

Still, she figured they’d better get the chain of command out on the table. “A couple of things up front. Nonnegotiable. When I give you an order, you do it. No questions asked. You do what I say. When I say. How I say.”

If possible, Judd’s mouth grew even tighter. “The other?”

“If things get rough, you don’t go all macho on me and try to protect me just because I’m a woman. I’m the professional, and you’re the client. I know you’re Delta, but this is my op and I’m team leader.”

He folded his arms over his chest but he nodded. “Agreed.”

Shelley understood no man, especially a soldier, liked taking orders from a woman, but she had a job to do. She’d already made the mistake of allowing a man to tell her how to do her job. She wouldn’t be doing that again. Not for anyone.

“Then we’re good to go. Are you and Tommy ready to leave?”

“Yes.”

She stood. “Let’s do it.”

“Where?”

She looked around the guesthouse, a haven, she supposed, for some. It had not been a haven for Caleb Judd. “I’ll let you know. Later.”

A knock at the door had her tensing. Reason told her that an enemy wasn’t likely to announce his presence that way. Still, she motioned Caleb to stay where he was. She withdrew her weapon, held it at her side as she answered the door.

A man in an austerely cut black suit, a starched white shirt, and a rigid bow tie stood on the front step and held an envelope. “Ma’am. This arrived for Mr. Judd. Mr. Alfred directed me to deliver it.”

After slipping on latex gloves she’d pulled from her blazer pocket, she accepted the envelope. “Thank you.”

Caleb joined her. “What is it?”

“It’s addressed to you. Make sure Tommy stays in the other room.” She started to open the envelope.

Judd stopped her. “My name. My responsibility.”

The stern gaze he sent her convinced her to let him open it. Before she could hand him a pair of gloves, he’d torn open the envelope.

Inside lay a copy of a newspaper clipping with the headline Boy Dies in Pool and the crudely printed words Back off or it could happen again.

Shelley quickly scanned the clipping, inhaling sharply when she saw that it referred to Caleb’s younger brother Ethan, who died before his second birthday. The accompanying note was a chilling warning.

She had taken this case because of Jake. But now that she’d met Caleb and Tommy, she was determined to protect them at all costs and go after the killers who had targeted them.