His To Protect Page 7

  She forced her fingers to stop shaking long enough to dial Matt’s cell phone. He answered on the second ring.

  “Matt.” She didn’t even have to identify herself. Her desperation was communicated through that one word.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I had a phone call.”

  She suddenly realized that the mysterious caller may have already tapped into her phone line. How else would he have known that Carrie had called? She didn’t want to say too much.

  “I’m reconsidering your earlier offer,” she said, hoping Matt would know what she was talking about.

  It only took him a breath. “I’m coming back,” he told her. “An officer is patrolling your street now. I’ll have him sit outside and wait until I get through traffic. Don’t worry, Tracy. Nothing is going to happen to you or Jennifer.”

  She allowed herself to breathe. In spite of her refusing the offer of protective surveillance, he must have told someone to drive by and keep an eye out anyway. Silently, she thanked him.

  “I’ll be waiting,” she whispered.

  MATT REACTED To THE SOUND of Tracy’s voice and swung the car around instantly, adrenaline pulsing. Carrie must have called back. Picking up the microphone, he contacted the dispatcher and made sure that patrol car was covering Tracy’s house. Then, because police bands were so commonly monitored by felons, he used his cell phone to contact communications control. The officer monitoring the phone line was a fellow he knew and trusted, Leo Tully.

  “We’d barely got patched in,” Leo told him. “We taped the caller, but lost him before we nailed his location.”

  “Damn! I take it the feds are running this one.”

  “You got it. Rules are we turn over everything we uncover to the special agent who’s been designated task-force leader. They’re supposed to cooperate with us on the assault charges. The male gunshot victim they pulled out of there was in surgery all afternoon. The wounded suspect is still in the hospital with a blood-clot complication. But the other one is thinking about talking.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Matt pulled up in front of Tracy’s house. When she opened the door, he could see the terror in her eyes. She pushed the door shut after he entered the room, then she turned around, her fists curled up in balls against her sides as if to keep herself from shaking.

  He pulled her against him silently, letting his body protect and comfort her immediate fears. He wanted to hold her close all night, but an inner instinct told him she wanted to be strong. He knew she’d decided long ago that she had to learn to take care of herself and Jennifer. So he stepped away, making sure she was steady.

  “Tell me about it.”

  She motioned him inside and drew a deep breath. “I’ll go close Jennifer’s door,” she said.

  He looked around, noticing the bright lights everywhere, something a woman alone would do if she was worried about an intruder.

  “It was horrible,” she said when she returned. He could hear the shudder in her voice, and her brown eyes were round with fright. “A man called. He had a weird voice. He asked where Carrie was. He knew she’d called. What’s worse, he knew all about us.”

  Matt tilted his head in a query as she went on.

  “He said if I wanted to keep Jennifer safe, I’d better cooperate. He knew about you. I tried to keep him on the phone.” She looked up at his eyes. “Did they find him?”

  He hated having to tell her the truth. “They recorded the call, but they couldn’t track it fast enough. You did fine, Tracy, just fine. Don’t worry.”

  She seemed to sway then, as if at the end of her strength. She came into his arms again, and he could almost feel the relief in her body that someone was there to support her. He gently slid his arm around her back and tucked her into his shoulder. His chin rested beside her head, and he had to struggle not to dip his mouth toward her ear.

  He was even more attracted to her than he had thought. Her soft breasts brushed up against him, and he worried suddenly that his arousal would make itself felt against her naked thighs. He shifted her, guessing that in her vulnerable state, she probably wouldn’t take kindly to male aggression.

  He clasped her hand and pulled her down on the sofa. Sitting down, he could hide his evident arousal more easily. Besides, satisfying himself sexually would serve little purpose. His ache for Tracy demanded more. He suddenly knew that he needed to make her trust him. But more than that, he realized he needed to do some hard thinking about why it was that he was getting so involved with her right now. Feelings for a beautiful friend were one thing, but the complications of a relationship with a child involved were quite something else.

  He kept hold of her hand and frowned in concentration. “I don’t like this,” he murmured. “Whoever this person is, he knows too much. But we’ll get him. I promise you that.”

  She bit her lip as if doubting the truth of that. He squeezed her hand. “I’ll stay here tonight and sleep on the sofa. The patrol car is outside. You won’t be in any danger.”

  She sighed. “I’m grateful for that. But what about tomorrow? We can’t live in fear that we’re being watched all the time. I don’t want Jennifer to know there’s any threat.”

  He nodded. Then an idea surfaced and he grinned. “I’ve got the perfect solution. Tomorrow is the Denver Police Department’s annual picnic at Elitch’s. They had it on Thursday because the park will be less crowded. The picnic goes from about three o’clock until the park closes. I’ll take you and Jennifer with me. Where could you be safer than at the police family picnic?”

  He waited while she considered this. Thoughts fluttered across her face, and he could imagine what she was thinking. It would be a strong reminder that she was a department cop’s widow. She might feel awkward seeing Scott’s old acquaintances, but he knew he was right about taking her with him.

  “It’s been a year, Tracy,” he said softly. “There are people who will want to see you and Jennifer, make sure you’re doing all right.”

  She ground her teeth and then said grimly, “We aren’t doing all right. Not right now. They don’t know that the money they so generously donated is locked up in a bank and can’t help Jennifer now. And that someone out there is threatening us.”

  “No, they don’t know all that,” he said steadily. “But we’re going to take care of it.”

  “How?”

  “I’m committed to helping you sort out things with Jennifer’s grandfather and with the bank. I won’t see you struggle, Tracy.” Then, self-conscious at this declaration, he covered his bravado by adding, “I owe it to Scott.”

  Her beautiful brows wrinkled as she thought it all over. My God, did she know how pretty she was with that thick hair, and those soulful, sexy eyes? He cleared his throat, trying to keep his thoughts away from lust. He also loosened her hand, realizing he was crushing it.

  Gradually, she seemed to relax. “All right. We’ll go.”

  She glanced away, as if not wanting to look at him. For a moment, hope surged that she was feeling the same desire he was. But then he cooled those flames. They were in danger and needed to remain alert. It just wasn’t the right time.

  “Good girl. I’ll just get some things from the car.”

  She left him to go find some extra bedding. He went outside, more to let the breezy night air cool him off than to rummage in the back of his car. But he brought in the cell phone and a small kit he kept in the car for emergencies when he’d been on an all-night stakeout and couldn’t get home to freshen up. He also had to bring in his SWAT equipment for security.

  He noticed when he returned to the living room how Tracy avoided direct eye contact. She had made up a bed for him on the couch and piled thick towels and washcloths on top of a pillow.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable,” she said.

  “I’ll be fine. Beats sitting up all night in the back room of a mom-and-pop store waiting for suspects to hold up the place.”

  She pulled a
corner of her mouth to the side at his joke. Then he wished he hadn’t said it. Everything that reminded her of SWAT team work must turn her off. He didn’t say any more. Finally, she faced him.

  “You can use the bathroom first,” she said. “I’m too wired to sleep yet.”

  “Make yourself some hot milk.”

  Her mouth softened, but he didn’t trust himself to gaze at her for too long. He strode on through to shower. He paused at the hallway with his hand on the doorjamb. Tracy paused, too, just before stepping through the opening from the dining area to the still brightly lit kitchen. They held each other’s eyes for a moment, but he couldn’t rear her thoughts.

  TRACY SIPPED THE HOT MILK, knowing it wasn’t the warm liquid alone that steadied her. She was moved by Matt’s friendship and knew the only reason she’d be able to sleep at all was that he was in the house.

  She checked on Jennifer again to make sure she hadn’t cooled off too much. Then she tiptoed down the wood-floored hallway, pausing beside the bathroom. The sound of the shower and of Matt moving around inside caused a warm, prickly feeling. She could picture his strong, well-formed, thoroughly fit physique pushing the shower curtain back and stepping into the hot water.

  She hurried on to her bedroom, where a small table lamp cast its glow on the one object in the room that frightened her. She felt tempted to disconnect the phone so she wouldn’t have to deal with any more calls tonight. She clenched her jaw as her bare feet came in contact with a chenille throw rug.

  But the fatigue was overwhelming as she lowered herself into the bed and tucked feet beneath a sheet. It would be too warm to use the blanket She turned the light out, then lay awake listening to the shower, straining to hear any changes in Jennifer’s breathing. Gradually, she became attuned to the night outside her open window. But it was a night full of danger. Her heart rate kept up its patter as she lay in the darkness.

  Not being able to do anything further right now about her worsening dilemmas, she simply listened to the sounds around her. She heard the water stop, heard Matt moving about in the bathroom. She felt a quiver at the thought that she might catch a glimpse of him padding across the hall in nothing but a towel.

  She turned on her side and decided not to nurse that sensual thought. She must resist the temptations presented by his being here. They might do things they’d later have to disentangle themselves from. The last thing he probably wanted was to get saddled with a woman and child. He simply would not want that weight dragging at him.

  As a bachelor, he could devote himself to his demanding job and be a hero. She’d heard very little about the women he’d dated in the past. She thought she remembered Scott saying that one woman Matt had been fairly serious about had thrown him over for someone else. Maybe he’d been burned.

  And she wouldn’t go to bed with him. for a one-night stand, no matter how much that thought tempted her hormones. To be able to drink in his strength, to be caressed and able to forget about life just for a single night...the thoughts still tugged at her, and the flame of need throbbed within her.

  No, she instructed her unruly mind. Passion in the night would only lead to the ugly light of day filled with all its problems. Sex would solve nothing and only make them both feel guilty and awkward afterward.

  She tossed to her other side and forced herself to think about the soft breeze outside. Think positive thoughts. Tomorrow they would find Carrie. Tomorrow a miracle would occur. Andrew Leigh would call and tell her he was dropping his suit for custody. Matt would take them to the picnic. Jennifer would be able to manage some of the rides without any problems.

  She had to make tomorrow a good day.

  Chapter Five

  Matt was up and out of the house before anyone stirred. He always got to work early, but more than that, he felt it would be easier not to see Tracy in the morning. He’d awakened cramped and aware immediately of the temptation of a comfortable bed with a soft, warm, desirable woman in it just on the other side of the wall. When he made his way to the bathroom to shave, he resisted the temptation to peer into her open doorway and try to catch a glimpse of her lovely form sleeping.

  Even so, he felt the tug of hormones and shut the bathroom door firmly. Matt hadn’t intentionally been celibate these past months, but he’d dated few women who could understand his schedule or his dedication to his job. Or maybe he hadn’t met anyone he cared about seeing more than a few times. No one with whom he’d care to communicate deeply.

  He stared at his unshaved chin and rumpled hair in the mirror. The word bond just hadn’t applied to other relationships he’d had in the past.

  But he and Tracy had a bond. He could feel it even when they weren’t speaking. His diaphragm tightened as he pictured her standing in the opening to the kitchen when their eyes had locked last night She needed him; he could almost feel it.

  He rubbed his scalp and frowned. He was letting his imagination run away with him. She was pretty and sexy, and she had a great kid. Maybe he was just getting pulled into their desperate situation. He needed to be careful not to mistake Tracy’s need for a friend with anything else. Hormones didn’t think, and he had to think this morning. About a lot of things.

  A half hour later, he left the house, softly closing the door behind him. He’d left a note saying he would call before he picked them up for the picnic today. On his way down the steps to where he’d left his car on the street, he let his sharp gaze sweep the neighborhood. He spotted the unmarked police car with its occupant reading the paper. It was best to have the surveillance team keep a low profile until they found out who the mysterious caller was and where Carrie Lamb had disappeared to.

  This morning the SWAT team had a classroom training session downtown. Part of the session would be a review of what happened yesterday morning to make sure the team had acted in the most efficient way possible. Since a hostage had been abducted, that wasn’t likely, unless the commander decided that negligence on someone else’s part had allowed that to happen.

  Matt was glad this was a classroom session. He didn’t want to take the time necessary to drive all the way out to their tactical range where they practiced regularly. After the class, he should have some time to find out what was going on in ballistics. He’d have to be clever, though, as official channels didn’t allow him access to what he wanted to know.

  Matt drove the Blazer into the underground lot where police personnel parked beneath the six-story, fortresslike police-administration building at Thirteenth and Bannock. It was still an hour before the SWAT team would assemble, so instead of taking the elevator to the classrooms, he entered the building and went to the basement-level property-management bureau. He was relieved to find Shelly Dunning holding down the reception desk. The ebony-complected woman was an old friend and might help him. At least she wouldn’t snitch on him.

  “Hi there, Shelly, how ya doing?” he said with his most charming smile as he let the door shut behind him. “In early today?”

  She lifted a plucked eyebrow and flexed long red fingernails in his direction. “I’m always here at seven, Matthew. But I haven’t seen you prowling this corridor before breakfast What’s on your mind?”

  He put on an official tone, though he doubted it would fool the very efficient Shelly. “Wanted to take a look at some of the evidence from yesterday’s assault at the Empire Bank of Colorado. Commander’s critiquing the team this morning.”

  Shelly tilted her head to the left “Room 2. Just sign the sheet on the clipboard.”

  “Thanks. Won’t be a minute.”

  He didn’t want to sign the sheet. He didn’t want anyone else to know he was looking at the evidence yet.

  He pushed open the door to the small conference room where the confiscated evidence was stored in individual plastic bags with white tags identifying them. Minute particles were stored in plastic containers with sealed lids. Everything was still laid out on one table. It only took him two minutes to ascertain that what he was looking for wasn’t here.
He referred to the printed list of items and felt a sudden heat of suspicion.

  Next, he consulted the list of signatures of officers and lab technicians who had signed articles out The FBI had a special agent assigned as task-force leader. But catching the bank robber who’d gotten away yesterday wasn’t his concern. He smelled another rat, much closer, and that was his concern.

  Shelly saw his frown when he emerged from the room. “Something wrong, Lieutenant?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. Someone picked up a .38 from the scene. Don’t see it in there. Ballistics or the lab check it out?”

  “No way.”

  “You’re sure?” he queried.

  “No .38 on that list. I typed it up myself.” She leveled her dark-eyed gaze at him. “It matter?”

  He leaned over and rested his hands on her desk, speaking confidentially. “What matters is that no one knows I’m asking. Can I count on that?”

  She considered him a minute. Shelly wasn’t about to get herself in trouble. But she ought to know Matt well enough to understand that if he had a reason to ask her for a favor, it was a good one. He watched the considerations flicker across her smooth complexion.

  Then she nodded and went back to the papers on her desk. “Long as no one else saw you in here, I surely didn’t.”

  “Thanks. I owe you.” He glided out and took the stairs two at a time.

  Upstairs he hailed his buddy, Roland Baker. The tall, steady sniper was as cool as they came. A dead shot at a hundred yards, he had the self-confidence and patience to get a target in range and keep it there without getting trigger-happy. Matt trusted him with his life.

  They had also shared thoughts about circumstances surrounding Scott Meyer’s death a year ago. Neither man was satisfied that it couldn’t have been prevented. But the official investigation into the matter had found no one at fault.

  As the rest of the team drifted into the classroom to slouch down in their seats, some of them sipping from plastic coffee containers, Matt cornered Roland by the water cooler. He lowered his voice.