Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (18 page)

Becky looked black-and-blue but she was also grinning at Daniella. “Good one. If I wasn't so whipped right now I'd borrow your pan and give him a whack myself.”

Isaac glanced at the prone figure. Fagan hadn't moved a muscle but was breathing regularly. “Looks like he'll be out for a while. I'll cuff him, anyway.” He reached for his duty belt before recalling that he'd been forced to drop it outside after he'd been relieved of his weapon, as well.

The sound of distant sirens was rapidly growing louder so Isaac opted to tend to his injured sister for a few more moments. Rinsing a dishcloth in cold water, he folded it and laid it on her forehead. “Better?”

“Mmm, thanks. That feels good.” She closed her eyes and sighed.

Daniella was also concerned with Becky's condition. “We need antiseptic and gauze squares to clean her cuts and scrapes. She should see a doctor, too, as soon as possible.”

“We'll let the EMTs handle those details.” He straightened, glancing toward the unconscious man and expecting to see the same scene as before.

Instead, he watched as Terence Fagan stood. He was brandishing a different weapon—the gun he'd taken from Isaac when he'd first arrived at the farm.

Isaac shouted, “Look out!”

Becky screamed.

Daniella ricocheted off the edge of the kitchen counter, unsuccessfully trying to thwart her father's attempt to grab her.

Isaac had pulled his reliable holdout gun, but Daniella was in the way of a clean shot.

All he could do was stand there and watch as Fagan dragged her, kicking and screaming, across the kitchen toward the back door.

SEVENTEEN

I
n Daniella's mind she'd been captured by the most evil person in the entire world. Every fiber of her being raged against his touch. Her wrist ached and her skin burned where his fingers were clamped. Screams filled her throat, erupting in a cacophony of earsplitting wailing accompanied by a degree of physical resistance far beyond her normal strength.

Bracing herself, she labored to gain traction. Her gaze raked the room, searching for any weapon or means of escape, while her soles skidded on the vinyl.

The stove! Could she reach it? Every second took her a little farther away. She lunged, jerking until her captive arm gave with a pop and she suspected she'd dislocated her shoulder.

No amount of pain was enough to stop her. Not when she was so close. Panic muted the worst of the pulsing agony, allowing her to continue to strain. So close. So very close. Her extended fingers trembled with the effort. Another inch. That's all she needed. Just one more try. She could last that long. She had to.

A groan started low in her throat, emerging with an urgency that fit her fight for life better and better as the pitch and volume rose, surprising even her.

Fagan's grip relaxed very slightly. That was enough. Daniella twisted.
Free!

Her fist closed on the handle of the pan of oil. She didn't stop to wonder if the contents were hot enough to do damage. She just swung.

Centrifugal force carried the pan in an arc toward Fagan and left a trail of spilled oil in its wake.

Daniella continued to attack. The pan failed to make contact with the man's head, as she'd hoped, but the hot oil splashed across his face and chest.

Both arms flew up to shield his eyes, temporarily destroying any opportunity for an accurate shot.

Seeing her chance, Daniella prepared for another swing. Off to her left, she saw Isaac taking aim. She thought she heard him bark an order to her, but Fagan's screeching and cursing made it too hard to hear.

He had pivoted away and was scrambling for the door, slipping on the oily floor. Common sense pulled her the opposite way in spite of a burning desire to keep after him, to make sure he was captured and put back in prison where he belonged.

“Stop or I'll shoot,” Isaac roared.

Terence Fagan ignored the warning. He jerked open the door and stumbled out, raising his firearm in front of him as he did so.

A loud bang shook the windows. Fagan's body was driven backward off the porch as if he'd been lassoed around the waist by a giant and given a mighty yank.

Frozen in place, Daniella saw plenty through the doorway. She didn't know what kind of weapon had made the booming sound, but she could guess. Jake must have left the house and sneaked around to find a better vantage point. When her father had aimed the pistol at him, he'd shot first.

Shouts outside mingled with those of the uniformed officers who burst into the kitchen. Some were local cops but the majority wore the patches and gear of Isaac's K-9 unit. Most had their dog partners by their sides.

At this point, Daniella wanted nothing more than to be in Isaac's arms regardless of who might see them together and question his motives. He welcomed her with open arms.

“Is—is he dead?” Daniella asked.

“Medics are checking him,” Isaac told her. “He probably is.”

She clung to him, listening to the rapid pounding of his heart and wondering why she felt so odd.

He gently stroked her back and murmured his support. “Are you okay?”

Raising her face to look directly into his eyes and draw more comfort, she nodded. “It's very confusing.”

“What is?”

“My feelings. My reactions. I thought I'd be overjoyed when that man died, but I'm almost sad. That makes absolutely no sense. He tried to kill me. I should be happier now. What's wrong with me?”

“Not a thing.” Isaac bent to kiss her lightly on the forehead. “I wondered if you'd stay bitter after all the horrible things he did to you and your mother. I'm glad to see you were able to forgive him enough to go on with your life. Hate can cripple a person as badly as a broken bone.”

“Hmm.” He was right, of course. And nobody was more surprised by her tempered attitude than she was. The emotional roller coaster might not be over yet, but Isaac was right. She could see an end to the grudge she'd been holding and the undeserved guilt that had accompanied it.

Settling against him with her arms wrapped around his waist, she wished they could stay that way indefinitely. It was the aching, prickling soreness of her shoulder that snapped her out of that lovely daydream.

“When the paramedics are done with Becky, I'd like one of them to take a look at my arm and shoulder. I may have dislocated something in the struggle.”

“Why didn't you say so?”

Daniella looked up at him, touched by his evident concern. “Because you were hugging me and I didn't want that to end,” she whispered for his ears only. “I really like it.”

Isaac arched a brow, his dark eyes glistening. “Me, too. Do you think that might be another good sign?”

Because they were surrounded by officers and dogs, she cupped a hand around her mouth to speak aside. “I think it's definitely worth discussing, preferably in private.”

“
After
we get your injuries looked at,” Isaac said firmly.

“You are one bossy cop, you know that?”

“I think you're up to the challenge, don't you?”

If the atmosphere in the room had not been so somber she would have smiled, although it seemed wrong to even consider doing so. Not only were her thoughts scrambled, her emotions were, too. What she needed to do—what they all needed to do—was calm down and process everything slowly and sensibly.

Daniella was already positive she loved Isaac in spite of his job. The notion that he might love her in return made her giddy.

So which was it to be? she asked herself.
Do I let myself admit how much I care and face the threat of losing him every time he goes to work, or do I listen to my cowardly side and push him away?

There had been a time, not many days before, when she would have let her fears govern her choices. Today, having repeatedly cheated death and survived, she was far less certain.

* * *

“What do you mean you found another bomb?” Isaac could hardly believe his ears.

The rookie officer looked very pleased with himself. “No lie. We nabbed the perp red-handed. Might have missed him if a cute little dog hadn't flushed him out of the bushes.”

“A beagle? With a playful attitude?”

“Sounds about right, except she wasn't acting playful when she latched on to the guy's ankle.”

Isaac smiled. “Abby's actually a police dog but she's trained to use her nose, not her teeth. She must have been watching the attack dogs being worked.”

“Well, wherever she learned the trick, it worked.”

Hesitant to leave the scene, even for a few minutes, Isaac glanced over at the blue plastic sheet covering Fagan's body, then at the nearby ambulance where Daniella and Becky were being treated. Fagan had seemed genuinely surprised when he'd insisted he hadn't placed the previous device in the farmhouse basement. Was it possible he'd had an accomplice? If that man had decided to take matters into his own hands, it was a good thing he'd been captured or they'd still be in jeopardy.

“Take me to your suspect,” Isaac ordered.

When he rounded the house with the other officer, his jaw dropped. Captain McCord was standing next to a patrol car, holding Abby in his arms. The handcuffed prisoner beside him was dressed like any other rural worker, but that was where the similarity ended. Isaac recognized him instantly. It was Leon Ridge, one of Congressman Jeffries's aides!

Struggling to make sense of what he was seeing, Isaac frowned at his captain. “What's Leon doing here?”

“That's a good question,” McCord replied, passing Abby to her partner. “He's not talking.”

“I was told there was a bomber in custody.”

Nodding, McCord pointed to a shoe box that was currently being examined by a team of experts wearing heavy protective suits. “According to your dog, there is. Leon was caught trying to slip that into your basement through the coal chute. Since that's how the last bomb was delivered, we assume that's what's in this box, too.”

As Isaac puzzled over the proof, he saw a member of the bomb disposal unit wave.

Leon Ridge spoke up. “Hey, I'm just an innocent bystander. A guy named Fagan left that. I happened to see him do it and just wanted to take a look.”

Turning to his captain, Isaac shook his head emphatically. “Impossible. Fagan took my sister from work in Arlington, then hung around DC to make contact with me because he was after Daniella. There's no way he had time or opportunity to place another bomb.”

Ridge shouted, “I saw him, I tell you,” while one of the local officers secured him in the rear of the closest patrol car.

“If I hadn't been so worried about Becky I'd already have a report on your desk,” Isaac told McCord. “Daniella and I talked with Tommy Benson this morning.” He hesitated, wishing he didn't have to be the one to tell his boss about Tommy's identification of the congressman.

“And?”

“I'd rather think it through and type it up for you.”

The captain huffed. “Yeah. I have an idea I'd rather not hear it, either, but lay it on me. We may as well bring everything out in the open, starting with the lab finding Leon's prints on the first bomb we took out of your basement.”

“Jeffries!” Isaac was astounded.

“I've had my suspicions about Harland for some time. Finding Leon here confirms them, although I can't understand why he'd send an aide to frame Fagan and do away with you.”

“Yeah, there is that.” Isaac was shaking his head as some of the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “Jeffries must have gone over the edge. No totally sane person would think that eliminating me would stop any of his secrets from getting out.” He paused before saying, “Tommy said he saw Harland pointing a handgun at Michael the night of the murder.”

“That still doesn't explain who shot Harland.”

“Doesn't it?” Isaac nodded at the prisoner waiting in the patrol car. “Leon is his fixer. I think, once we get through interrogating him, we'll know if Harland's crazy enough to tell somebody to put a bullet in him just to keep from looking guilty.”

To Isaac's surprise, the captain said, “Now that I'm beginning to see the whole picture, I think he just might be. He's definitely in over his head.”

“Don't forget Rosa Gomez. Leon or another of the congressman's aides may have done away with her, too.” Isaac paused. “I think it's highly possible Harland ordered her killed, especially if we're right about Juan's birthmark being inherited from Harland instead of Michael.”

“I suppose that's part of another unwritten report?”

“Yes.” Isaac filled in his captain about Juan Gomez having the same birthmark as Michael and Harland Jeffries, that Michael was reportedly unable to have children and that Harland Jeffries was very likely Juan Gomez's father. Isaac could see his captain's mind working—that Harland may have had Juan's mother killed to keep her quiet since an “illegitimate” child from an affair with his housekeeper would have hurt his chances for reelection.

What was less clear was why Harland would kill his own son. What was the motive there?

Since little Tommy didn't see Harland Jeffries pull the trigger, and since Harland had been shot, too, the Capitol K-9 Unit still had more questions than answers. What they did know for sure was that Harland Jeffries wasn't the man everyone thought he was.

Isaac laid a hand of comfort and support on Gavin McCord's shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah,” the captain replied, “me, too.”

* * *

“Please, let me go with you?”

“Don't you want to hang around here and nurse Becky?”

“She's sleeping and Jake is watching over her. There's no reason for me to stay here when I can go with you.”

“You could mop the kitchen floor.”

“I've done that twice and we're out of grease-cutting detergent. Try again.”

“You'd be bored silly. Trust me, it's not the way you see it on TV. There's very little excitement at police stations.” Isaac smiled at Daniella and slipped an arm around her shoulders, using a light touch where a sling supported her left arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Frustrated and tense,” she answered.

“Why? The danger's over.”

“For me, maybe. You're still in somebody's sights. If I stay behind while you go into the city, I'll worry myself sick.”

“So, what else is new?”

She took a playful swing at him. “That's not what I mean. We both know my father couldn't have been responsible for everything. With the congressman's aide in custody, you may find out enough to tell who's behind the rest of the terrible things that have been happening.”

“And we may not. Leon's a pro at lying. After all, politics is a good teacher.”

Daniella quieted and made a decision that would probably affect her whole future. At least she hoped it would. She looked up at Isaac, reveling in the way he gazed back at her and astounded by how rapidly her heart had opened to him.

“Okay. Let me put it this way. I thought I was going to die when my father tried to drag me away from you. Then I thought we might
all
be out of time, which was even worse.”

When Isaac opened his mouth to speak, she stilled him by placing her fingertips on his lips.

“Let me finish. Please?”

He assented.

“I used to think I'd never consider falling for anybody like you, no matter how attracted I was.”

“Are you saying...?”

“Hush!” Daniella's growing smile mirrored the joy she was seeing on his face. “What I'm saying right now is that I do not want to be away from you for even a second. It may not make much sense, but that's the way I feel.”