Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (10 page)

Trees, leaves, seeds, shadows. All seemed identical to her earlier observations.

Then, she saw it. An instant of flash. Sunlight on metal or glass. A gun? Binoculars? Maybe a telescopic sight on a rifle?

It didn't matter. Whoever was down there was now behind the men who were searching the farm fields. When they retraced their steps they'd walk right into an ambush!

The cat wiggled free and scooted under the bed, obviously sensing her tension.

Trembling all over, Daniella let him go his way without a second thought. Part of her brain was screaming
Go! Help them.

Contradicting orders mingled with her desire for bravery and she pictured herself shinnying under the bed beside her frightened cat.

What should she do? What
could
she do? Becky had gone out for the evening, presumably taking her handgun, and all Jake had to protect himself was that stupid shovel and a shotgun. A lot of good those would do him against a rifle, particularly at a distance.

No.
She couldn't enlist aid. She had to handle this situation herself. After all, the prowler was most likely after her. She'd brought the danger here and it was up to her to warn the K-9 officers.
But how?

Her first thought was to throw open the window and shout at them, until she realized that that would bring them on the run, right into the waiting trap.

“Can I run fast enough to keep from getting shot?” she murmured to herself.

Pressing her lips together, she shook her head. “Not a chance.” She'd be doing well to even clear the back porch, let alone make it around the big barn and across the field before being spotted and stopped.

What choices are left?

No easy answers came to her. The sensible thing might be for her to drive Isaac's SUV or maybe Jacob's pickup truck, but first she'd have to lay her hands on the right set of keys. Isaac probably had his with him and if she asked Jake for the truck keys she'd have to tell him why she wanted them, meaning he was bound to interfere, perhaps fatally.

That left only one option. The car in the barn under the tarp. Daniella gritted her teeth and clenched her jaw. That car was where her father had left the bomb for her. Had he been on the premises long enough to have had a chance to repeat his attempt? Isaac had checked, of course, but that didn't mean that someone else couldn't have tampered with her car. She rooted through her purse searching for her spare keys. Where were they? They had to be in there.

Just as she was about to give up, her fingers touched the familiar ring. Fisting it, Daniella ran for the stairs and descended so fast she almost missed a step and fell.

Her pulse sped. Her breathing was shallow. Her knees threatened to fold and drop her to the floor before she accomplished her goal. She would not let that happen. Lives hung in the balance.

Centrifugal force carried her around the newel post at the bottom and headed her in the right direction. There was no time to search for protection or develop a disguise. Besides, the less encumbered she was, the faster she could move.

The element of surprise would be her armor. Dashing through the kitchen, she yanked open the back door and sailed off the end of the porch, not bothering to take the stairs.

Landing was trickier. Momentum pitched her forward. She caught herself on her hands and pushed off like a sprinter, without missing a beat.

The big barn door was closed so she headed for the smaller one at the side farthest from the maple trees that hid her enemy.

In the seconds it took her to work the latch, she kept expecting to hear the crack of a shot and feel its impact.

Instead, she was bowled over by three dogs the size of ponies. Barking and howling, they crowded out the open door and took off around the barn as if their tails were on fire. Would their arrival be enough of a warning? Or would they cause the officers to race back to the house without any thought for themselves? Probably the latter. Unless she acted swiftly.

Daniella paused to take stock. Several cats had made themselves at home atop the tarp covering her car. She shooed them away and whipped it off, then pivoted to free the crude latch holding the larger doors closed.

They swung partially out of the way while Daniella slid behind the wheel, hoping, praying her father had not discovered this vehicle and tampered with it again.

She missed the key slot twice, then grabbed her trembling wrist with her other hand to steady it. The key turned easily. The engine groaned, stuttered, quit!
And the car did not blow up! Praise God!

Again she hit the ignition. Stomped on the gas pedal. Dropped the transmission into Drive. With a grinding of gears and squealing of tires, the car shot toward the doors.

They hadn't opened fully when she'd released them, but Daniella didn't care. She missed the left one, clipped the edge of the right and spun her car in a half circle, throwing a rooster tail of dust and dirt higher than the top of the car.

Her fingers felt like part of the wheel with her mind directing the engine, her feet urging it on. Nothing could distract her now. Not even being shot at.

The car fishtailed around the corner of the barn and straightened out, heading directly toward the plowed field the K-9 officers were searching.

Shock reflected off Isaac's face, his jaw dropped and he began to wave his arms at her.

Daniella belatedly realized why he had been signaling so frantically. Her hood and front fenders plowed through a barbed-wire fence, snapping the spans and whipping long lengths of spiked, twisted wire behind her.

Her front and rear windows shattered simultaneously, and Daniella let out a piercing scream. Only the windshield stayed together, its surface a tangle of spidery cracks. She hit the brakes, skidded sideways and came to a halt mere feet from the men and all the dogs.

Someone jerked her door open and dragged her from the car. When she landed on the uncomfortable ridges of plowed dirt, she expected to be welcomed.

“You almost killed us!” Isaac roared.

Daniella shook her head and waved away the clouds of dust with both hands, blinking to clear her vision. “I did nothing of the kind. I just saved your lives.”

“By whipping us with wire and running us over?”

“No. By keeping you from walking into an ambush when you came back to the house to see why your other dogs were out. I saw somebody hiding under one of the maple trees below my room.”

“Did anybody else see this person?”

“No, but...I know there was someone there. I saw a glint of light reflecting off metal or glass. I know I did. I thought it was a gun.”

“Right.”

She saw one of the other officers tap Isaac on the shoulder and gesture at her car. He stepped closer in spite of the loose fencing wire that was still festooning the hood.

When he turned to look back at her, his anger was gone. So was the color in his face. All he did was point.

Joining him, she understood. It had not been the collision with the fence that had caused her windows to shatter.

A hole as big around as her little finger was punched through the fractured safety glass.

A hole the size of a bullet.

TEN

I
saac kept hold of Abby's leash and slipped an arm around Daniella's shoulders. By unspoken agreement, Adam radioed headquarters, Chase called the local police and Isaac used his cell to notify Jacob.

“Hi, Jake.”

“What in the world is going on? I thought I heard a shot.”

“You did. Stay inside. Somebody's using us for target practice. Nobody's hurt so far. If you keep your head down, it should stay that way.”

“Where are you?”

“Behind the barn. You probably can't see us from the house. Just don't let yourself be silhouetted in the windows, whatever you do.”

“Is it Fagan?”

“Can't tell,” Isaac said, reluctant to say much in front of the trembling woman in his arms. “Might be.”

“Okay. I'll go warn Daniella.”

The chuckle Isaac managed sounded more like a cough. “Um, that won't be necessary. She's here with me.”

“Outside? Is she
nuts
?”

“Maybe. Probably. The important thing is that you stay out of sight until the cops arrive and you warn Becky to check with one of us before driving home.”

“Right. Will do.” There was a pause. “You
are
going to tell me exactly what's going on when you come in. I don't care if your girlfriend is embarrassed about her family. I want all the details. Copy?”

“You already know most of them,” Isaac argued, “but all right. We'll answer any questions. I promise. Now call Becky for me, will you? My battery's low and I want to save it for emergencies.”

Ending the call, he turned his full concentration on the woman at his side and scowled. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Of course not.” She leaned away and met his gaze boldly. “I have a life wish, for myself and everybody else I know. If you guys had started back to the house, the sniper would have had clear shots at all of you. I spotted him, but you had no idea of the danger, so I did what I had to do.”

“You've never heard of phones?”

He saw her eyebrows draw together in a clear frown. “Yes,” she drawled, “but somebody took mine away and never replaced it. I knew if I asked Jake to call you he'd make me stay in the house and put himself in danger. It wasn't his job, it was mine. I brought the problem with me and I intend to face it—as many times as necessary.”

“You'd better hope nobody ever gives you a professional psych eval, lady. You sound certifiable.”

“Don't raise your voice to me.”

“I wasn't, I...” Isaac realized she was right. He had been yelling. Little wonder. Once again Daniella had had a narrow escape and his racing heart hadn't yet recovered. Matter of fact, the more she revealed about her convoluted reasoning, the more concerned he became.

He lightly touched her hand. “Look. I'm sorry. I was reacting to what you'd done and it scared me to death. You may have escaped in the past but that's no guarantee you won't be injured, or worse, if you keep on defying your father.”

“I'm as smart as he is.”

“Yes, but he's also crafty. You can't expect him to behave rationally. His warped mind won't let him.”

“Because he's a sociopath. I know,” Daniella admitted. “I spent a lot of time studying about people like him in the hopes I could understand him. He truly believes he's in the right and is allowed to act in any manner that brings him to his goals, no matter who gets hurt in the process.”

“Exactly. That was the conclusion of the prison psychiatrist, too. Fagan won't listen to reason because he thinks he's infallible. And he sees you as a roadblock to the perfect life he envisions.”

A small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, taking Isaac by surprise.

“I am a roadblock,” Daniella said, speaking softly. “If I'm the only one who can get that awful man off the streets and back into jail, then I'll do whatever I have to do to make it happen.”

Left unsaid was the part of her vow that knifed into his gut, his heart, and left him feeling real pain. She meant, if she had to die as her mother had in order to see justice done, she'd willingly make that sacrifice.

Yes, it was brave. It was also foolhardy. There was a big difference between the work he did for law enforcement and her idea that only she could stop Fagan.

If he didn't accomplish anything else while they were together, Isaac vowed he was going to teach her that. Or die trying.

* * *

They remained crouched behind Daniella's car, just in case, until they heard sirens and saw flashing red-and-blue lights approaching the house. The officers in the patrol cars slid to stops in the front and rear of the old Victorian, panned the scene with spotlights, then cautiously disembarked, guns drawn.

Isaac stood, causing Daniella to do the same. Or try to. His hand on her shoulder shoved her back down, and she didn't like that treatment one bit. “Hey. Let go.”

“Keep your head down until I say you can stand.”

“Why? Is your head bulletproof?”

The look he shot her was so disparaging—and so silly looking—she almost laughed. Tension often did that to her. Truth be told, she'd lots rather get the giggles than burst into tears every time she was challenged or felt in jeopardy. That particular thought did make her smile. “I'll take sniper avoidance for a thousand, Alex,” she murmured, earning another scathing look from Isaac.

She busied herself petting Abby until Isaac finally gave her permission to rise.

Dusting off her hands and her jeans, she fell into step behind the men and their working dogs while the farm dogs ran circles around the group and barked excitedly. At a whistle from Jake, they headed for the yard and disappeared, presumably confined in the barn again.

Although she continued to stand back a little ways, Daniella made sure to stay close to a refuge such as the barn or the house or a police car so she'd be ready to duck if anybody located the shooter. Instinct told her the man was long gone, but since she didn't want any more safety-protocol lectures from her host, she figured it would be best to voluntarily keep a low profile.

Listening to the K-9 officers reporting the details of the attack reminded her of the Spartan way doctors and nurses kept patient records. Impressions and feelings were unimportant in that context but facts were crucial. The trouble was, they had few to go on in this case.

In retrospect she kind of wished she'd waited a little longer to make a break for it in the hopes she'd have gotten more information about the menace waiting in the trees.

Then again, once Isaac and his friends had started back to the house, she'd have lost sight of them until they'd rounded the barn and by that time they'd have been in the shooter's sights.

Daniella shivered and looked toward Isaac. How special he was. How kind. How attractive. How...perfect.

“Yeah,” she muttered, huffing derisively at her own idiocy. “Perfect for somebody else maybe.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Did you want to add something? You spotted the perp first.”

“No need.” She shrugged and slipped her hands into her jeans pockets so he wouldn't see her fingers trembling. “You guys have covered it. I thought the farm dogs might chase him off when they got out past me but apparently not, since there's a hole in my car.”

“If you thought that, why did you risk driving out back?”

“Because I couldn't be sure. I figured you'd take one look at them and come looking to see if I was in trouble. If you had, he'd have been able to pick you off like fish in a barrel.”

There was no need for her to wonder if her statement had been nonchalant enough because Isaac's scowl deepened noticeably.
Good.
That meant he would be less likely to realize how scared she really was and coddle her.

How she had managed to do what she'd done without being wounded was beyond comprehension. Isaac had been totally right to yell at her for taking such risks. Given a second chance, she strongly doubted she'd be able to convince herself to repeat the same act, let alone do anything when she knew for sure that the prowler was so well armed.

Basically, she was scared witless. “With
witless
being the operative word,” she told herself, remembering how sensible her plan had seemed until now, when she could look back on it.

Edging closer to the others, she admitted needing their support, the comfort of their strength, particularly Isaac's. If he decided to put his arm around her shoulders again she was definitely going to leave it there—for as long as possible.

* * *

Adrenaline kept Daniella awake and alert for the next hour or so, then dropped her like a deflating helium balloon. The harder she tried to think up excuses for charging out to the barn and driving her car through a fence, the less she agreed that those actions were wise or necessary.

Back in the kitchen with the K-9 officers and the Blacks, she wrapped her hands around a mug of steaming coffee and faced them. Adam and Chase seemed to have accepted her excuses because their postures were relaxed. Conversely, it was clear that Isaac and his brother had not. They were both edgy and staring at her as if she had committed an unpardonable sin.

“Look,” she said, trying again. “I wasn't being careless. I simply didn't see another option that would keep everybody safe.”

“What about
you
?” Isaac demanded, his words clipped, his expression accusing her of not thinking at all, let alone making a sensible decision.

Daniella leaned back in her chair and yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. “I started this. I'll finish it.”

“You did not!” Isaac started to jump to his feet but Jacob and Adam, one seated on either side, stopped him.

“I think what my brother is trying to say,” Jake offered, “is that whatever your relatives did or didn't do, you can't be held responsible.”

“Terence Fagan is my father. I testified against him. Of course I'm responsible.”

“Who says?”

Her attention swung back to Isaac to answer, “I do.”

“You're wrong,” he told her, sounding less angry and far more downhearted than before. “That man may have destroyed your mother with a bomb, but she wasn't the only one harmed. You were scarred, too. Deeply. And the only way I know of to help you is to remind you that we're all children of God. All of us are guilty to some extent and all are promised forgiveness. We just have to genuinely ask for it and have faith.”

She clenched her jaw muscles and sat up straighter in her chair as if prepping to do battle. “Mom took me to church and Sunday school. I know the rules. I also know I will never be able to forgive that man. Never. He took everything from me. My mother. My sense of family. My home and friends. All of it's gone.”

“Then maybe the secret is forgiving yourself first,” Isaac proposed.

Speechless to learn that he was so close to understanding her internal struggles, Daniella pushed back from the table and rose.

“Leave your plates and cups in the sink, gentlemen,” she said. “I'm too tired to wash up now so I'll do the cleanup tomorrow. Good night.”

She made it to the sink without rattling her dishes, then walked stiffly out of the room and began to climb the stairs. Memories of all her earthly father's sins swirled through her mind. It didn't matter what anyone else did or didn't do. She knew whose daughter she was—would always be. Some things were set in stone, like the Ten Commandments, and not subject to change no matter how much she wished they were.

So what about God?
she asked herself. There had been a time when she had truly believed she was His child, too. Could Isaac be right? Did she really need to forgive herself the way he'd said?

She clenched her jaw so tightly her cheeks ached. It would take an extraordinary amount of faith to accomplish that, let alone to stop hating the man who had murdered her mother. She not only knew she didn't have the strength for that, but she also wondered if, given the means and opportunity, she would actually consider carrying out the fantasy of retribution by ending his life.

The shock of realizing that doing so would make her just as evil as her father shook her to the core. She paused at the top of the stairs, her hand on the banister, her feet rooted to the floor, and closed her eyes.

Tears slid down her cheeks unheeded. “Please, God,” she whispered, “help me. I don't want to be like him.”

It was a simple prayer. A child's prayer. And so heartfelt that no other words seemed necessary.

Standing there in the dimly lit hallway, Daniella was astounded to sense divine peace flowing over and around her as if wrapping her in a warm blanket of love.

As she proceeded slowly to her room, she murmured the only thing that felt appropriate. She said, “Thank You, Lord.”

* * *

It had taken Isaac and the others another hour of speculative conversation before they were satisfied they had done all they could for the present. He had bid his coworkers good-night and was watching them drive away when Becky got home.

She parked in front so the porch light would illuminate her way and rolled down her window. “Is it safe to leave my car?”

Isaac nodded. “Yes. Police canvassed the place and so did tracking dogs, until that trail went cold. Whoever was causing trouble before is long gone, at least for the present, but we'll keep an eye out.”

“Jake phoned and told me to make myself scarce. I would have come home to help you defend the fort if I'd thought it would help.”

“You did the right thing by staying away,” Isaac told her as he opened and held the car door for her. “Having Daniella playing cavalry was bad enough. The prowler put a bullet through her car—while she was in it.”

“You didn't catch him?”

“No. I doubt we were even close by the time we got organized. My team's dogs tracked him as far as Judson Mill Road but lost the trail there. We assume he had a car waiting.”