Protective Custody (5 page)

“I didn't see it, but I heard something coming from that direction. I was just getting ready to check it out when you called. Making my way around there now.”

She stood and motioned for Nick to follow her. “I
need you to get in a safe place. Away from windows and doors.”

“Surely they wouldn't try anything again tonight, would they?” He walked toward the stairs as he talked.

“Why not? It's what I'd do. Hit them again while they're off guard and recovering.” She checked her weapon. “Just stay there on the steps, about midway up. You should be fine there until we figure out what's making those flashes.”

“Could they be communicating that way?”

“Possibly. Although with today's technology, that'd be kind of dumb, if you ask me.”

“Unless they're afraid we'll pick up on their signal.”

“True.” She didn't tell him she'd already thought of that. Radioing for backup once again, she made her way to the French doors that led to the patio. “Mason?”

“I'm not seeing—” he broke off as the flash came again. This time a little brighter—and a little closer. “Saw it.”

“Can you tell where it's coming from? Is anyone answering it?”

“I'm headed in that direction. You stay with the family.”

Carly bit back a protest. He was right. She was where she was needed. “Come on, Nick, into the stairwell.”

“Fine, but you stay nearby.”

She knew he wasn't asking for her presence out of safety concerns. He wanted to know what was going on as soon as she did.

“I need to check upstairs. You stay put.”

“I'll be right behind you.”

Frustration nearly made her scream. Clamping her lips together, she refused to let it out and quietly made her way up the stairs to the kids' rooms. Christopher lay sprawled on his back across the twin bed, covers bunched around his waist.

Nick straightened them, then bent down and pressed an ear to the boy's chest. He listened for a few seconds, closed his eyes and whispered something Carly took to be a prayer.

Then he was towering over her once more. “Lindsey's room?”

She nodded silently, ear tuned for the slightest out-of-place sound. He padded down the hall to the next room. Opening the door, they found Debbie sitting on the bed, head against the wall, snoring gently. Lindsey had fallen asleep with her hand in Debbie's.

Carly's heart pinged. Poor kids. They didn't deserve this.

Nick's tension radiated. He held himself stiff, and she knew he wanted to run from the house, find whoever was doing this to his family and beat them senseless. That was okay. As long as he controlled himself.

“Mason?” she whispered into the radio. “What do you have?”

“False alarm.”

Tension melted from her shoulders. “What was it?”

“Firecrackers.”

“Kids getting ready for the Fourth?”

“Looks that way. I'm heading back to the house.”

“See you in a few.”

She looked at Nick. “False alarm. Just some kids setting off firecrackers.”

Relief rolled across his face. “Now what?”

“Get some sleep. Morning's coming early.”

N
ick hit the ground running early the next morning. After a heated twenty-minute discussion, Carly talked him into making a phone call to the principal instead of going on school grounds.

“The minute you set foot on that campus, you're putting every child in danger,” she insisted. “These people didn't care that you had two children in your house when they came to get you last night. They won't care if you're surrounded by children. You don't need to be anywhere near them.”

Nick had paused, thought about it and reluctantly seen the wisdom of her words.

Letting the kids go to school—having them out of his sight—wasn't an easy task, even though he knew it was probably best for them. Familiar surroundings, keeping their minds occupied.

And not in his presence.

Yes, best for them, but he really didn't want them to go. In fact, he almost changed his mind—twice.

But Lindsey seemed to perk up at the thought of going. She was in a small class play and had had her costume ready for weeks. When he'd suggested she might have
to skip it, she'd gone nuts—and the hurt in her eyes had broken his heart.

Although if he thought she'd be in danger at the school, he'd live with the broken heart.

And Christopher couldn't wait to tell his teacher about the “cool cops” living in his house.

Nick made the call, reassuring the principal and the school resource officer that extreme security measures would be taken to ensure no one at the school was in any danger at any time. No threats had been made against the children, just Nick.

Extra officers would patrol the grounds and be on hand should they be needed. Nick didn't think they would. The de Lugos wanted him off the case or dead. They had no reason to go after the children.

Except to use them as incentive to get him to recuse himself, delay the trial, give them time to come up with more fabricated evidence and fake alibis.

Those thoughts disturbed him enough that he hesitated again. However, Grady and Maria were right there with them. This was what the marshals were trained for. The children would be fine.

Satisfied that he'd covered all his bases and the children would be safe, escorted to and from school by the two other marshals, Nick watched them enter the building from the safety of the car. Carly had parked off-campus, on a hill that afforded them a view of the school's front door.

She sat in the driver's seat, having insisted upon driving. That was fine with him. It gave him time to think about the situation he now found himself in.

Sometimes he wondered why he'd ever switched out of family court, but then he thought about the de Lugo family and his resolve hardened. Someone had to stand up to those who thought they were above the law.

In the police academy it hadn't taken him long to get frustrated with the system, which was why he'd made the transition to law school. He'd thought he could do more as a judge, help the officers who made the arrests and make their job a little easier, a little more satisfactory.

He wasn't sure if he'd been successful or not.

But it didn't mean he was ready to give up.

“Are you sure this is the right thing, Nick?”

“What do you mean?” He knew what she meant, but he found he liked the sound of her voice. He wanted to hear it over the confusion in his mind. Wanted her to explain in that soft, lilting tone she used sometimes.

She hesitated then asked, “Is it worth it? Putting your life on the line? Possibly those kids' lives, to keep this case?”

Being a judge, dedicating his life to justice, helping those who couldn't help themselves. That was his job, his life—his calling.

And he told her so.

“Besides—” his jaw firmed as he spoke “—if I let them get to me, if I allow myself to be scared into passing the case on to someone else, a judge who doesn't have the same values as I do might be inclined to be swayed or lenient. What would that say to all the other criminals out there?
Threaten the judge you don't like and get the one you do?
Or that it's okay to harass and threaten until the case is dropped because no judge will go up against them? Then there's always the trick of significantly delaying the trial in order to buy enough time to fabricate evidence to dispute the real evidence against you.” He shook his head. “I can't let that happen. I can't be the one to put that kind of power into their hands.”

Respect blipped in her eyes, and he appreciated that she didn't seem to judge
that
decision. He knew it might sound
cold, that it might appear that he was putting his career before the safety of his family, but that wasn't it. “Do you understand why I can't give in? I'm not being stubborn. I'm not doing this just to get scum off the street, but to show those kids you don't let intimidation scare you away from doing what's right. You do the best you can to keep yourself safe, and then you go ahead and do the right thing.”

“You don't have to justify yourself to me, Nick.” Her voice was soft velvet that shimmered over him, made him glad he'd trusted her with a little bit of his convictions.

It made him willing to open up a little further. He added, “I'll be honest. After Miriam and my sister died in the wreck, I questioned that. I questioned everything. For about a month, I just fell apart. I couldn't focus, couldn't think. I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning.”

“Understandable.” Compassion coated the word.

“For a while, yes. By this time I had the kids living with me. Mom took care of them.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Actually, she took care of everything. I was so lost in my grief, I couldn't see the toll her own grief was taking.” He blew out a sigh. “And I certainly didn't see how badly the kids were hurting.”

“You can't blame yourself for that.”

He sighed. “Yes, I can. I took a month off work…life. Took a sabbatical to the mountains to do some soul-searching. Faith-searching.”

“What did you find out?”

“That I felt more guilt than grief over my wife's death.”

“Guilt?”

He flushed, wondered how much to tell her. Then settled for saying, “Because I was more passionate about my job than I was about my marriage.”

Empathy flashed, and she covered his hand with hers.
He felt a zing, one he realized he was beginning to feel whenever he came into contact with her. He wondered about it, wanted to explore it, even as he did his best to push it away.

Then he was distracted by her lips tugging upward in a wry smile. “Why do you think I'm still single at the ripe old age of thirty-three?”

Before he could think of what to say to that, her eyes shifted then narrowed, and he knew she was listening to the voice in her earpiece. Then she said, “Copy that.”

He cleared his throat and decided to move away from personal stuff. “So, do I get to go to work now?”

Cranking the car, she shifted it into gear and slid away from the curb. “As soon as the SWAT team gets into place.”

Nick had been a judge for years, and no one had ever made such a fuss about his safety. “A SWAT team? Are you serious?”

“It's just a precaution. These people have already infiltrated your home. It only makes sense that they're going to come after you at work. Since I can't talk you into staying home, this is the next best thing.”

He paused. Should he consider staying home? The de Lugo case was just under a week away. Should he go ahead and hide out until then? Everything in him shouted out in protest. The practical side of him came up with a mental checklist of pros and cons.

Pro: He could distribute the remaining cases on his docket without much trouble. Wayne could take a few, as could Sebastian Michaels, one of the other judges who shared in the rotation.

Con: It might send the wrong message to the children, i.e., if you're threatened, tuck your tail and run.

Pro: Or it might teach them to assess the situation, recognize they need help and do the smart thing.

Nick sighed. But was it the smart thing to do? Was it necessary?

He had to admit it might be. Then again, he did have help. U.S. Marshals who were very good at their jobs.

“Nick?”

He blinked, her voice pulling him from his thoughts. “Huh?”

“I said we're ready. We've swept the courthouse, and there are SWAT members scattered around the rooftops. Also, the media is in a frenzy. Keep your head low and don't say a word to anyone.”

He didn't move for a brief moment. Then he said, “All right. Let's do it. I'll get the files I need, but then we'll play it your way. Although it goes against everything in me, we'll go to a safe house and hide out.”

“I really do think that would be best. While I don't think the kids are in any immediate danger, that could change in the blink of an eye. We want to take preventive measures instead of having to react to an emergency. I'll notify the two marshals guarding them of the change in plans.”

He reached up to rub his eyes in a weary gesture. “Lindsey's going to be furious about missing all of the end-of-school activities.”

“At least she'll be alive to get over it.”

 

Carly pulled around to the back of the courthouse only to find it jammed with protestors holding signs and yelling the occasional comment to anyone who would listen. The media covered the area, eating up the conflict and occasional outbreak of violence.

Local police had things under control.

For now.

A little less than a week before the trial, and it had already started. Ricardo de Lugo may be a mobster, but he also funded numerous charitable organizations and did his best to put up a respectable front.

Most unaware citizens fell for his charade and were now outraged that he'd been arrested.

Law enforcement knew the truth.

After flashing her badge to the security guard, Carly pulled into the underground parking garage where the general public was blocked from entering. “Let's get what you need and get out. That crowd looks like it could turn very nasty at any moment.”

“Fine. I just need to get into my office.”

Another car pulled into the spot beside Carly's, and Mason climbed out.

“This shouldn't take long.”

Mason nodded. “You two go ahead. I'll bring up the rear.”

With Carly in the front, Nick behind her and Mason keeping watch behind him, the three made their way into the building and down the hall.

A lone janitor ran a mop across the floor. Two security guards patrolled inside.

Carly took in the details, registering them in her mind even as her eyes swept side halls and closed doors.

Finally, they came to the door that opened into his secretary's area. Stepping inside, led the way past the empty desk. Then stopped. “Where's your secretary?”

A frown furrowed his brow. “I don't know. She's usually here by the time I get here—and that's when I'm on time. Today I'm unusually late.”

Carly looked at Mason, and he said, “I'll find her.” Before he could get on the phone, a figure entered and came to an abrupt halt.

“Oh, Judge Floyd, there you are.” The slender, fifty-something woman looked at each person invading her space. Then she said, “Is something wrong?”

Nick took the lead. “I'm going to be out of the office for a while, Jean. I just need to get some files, and then I'll be out of your hair.”

She blinked at him, clearly dumbfounded. “Out of the office? When the de Lugo case is coming up? Are you out of your mind?”

Carly bit her lip in amusement at Nick's consternation and waited for him to explain. He blew out a breath and said, “I need to take my family somewhere safe until the trial….”

Realization dawned on her features. “You're going into hiding because of the threats.”

She was sharp. Of course, she'd been questioned about the letter he'd received yesterday. Was it just yesterday? It felt like a lifetime.

Nick nodded. “Yes.” He waved toward Carly and Mason. “These are two U.S. Marshals assigned to keep me safe until the trial.” He made the introductions, and Jean smiled and shook their hands. “They want me in a safer place than this.” He paused and shrugged. “And because of the kids, I'm taking the advice of the professionals.”

His secretary nodded, her salt-and-pepper bun bobbing. “Good. What files do you need? I'll be glad to get them for you.”

Nick held up a hand. “No, I know exactly where everything is. I'll get them. And I'll be accessible.” He looked at Mason. “Can you give Jean a number to call in case she needs to get in touch with me?”

Mason hesitated. “It might be better if you just call from my encrypted cell phone on a regular basis to check in.
That way if someone questions her, she can honestly say she can't get in touch with you.”

Nick said, “But if you're pushed or feel threatened in any way, you let them know that I'll be calling in, all right?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she waved a hand. “All right, then. Now, if you don't need me, I'm going to get some coffee. After my wild-goose chase this morning, I need some caffeine.”

Carly perked up. “Wild-goose chase?”

“Someone from security called and told me I needed to sign some papers. When I got down there, no one seemed to know what I was talking about—said they must have dialed the wrong extension.” She rolled her eyes. “Like I have time for that kind of thing.”

Carly looked at the closed door straight ahead. Nick's office. And his secretary had been called away from her desk on a wild-goose chase.

Leaving the office available for entry by anyone who walked by.

And decided to lie in wait?

She shot a look at Mason and held out a hand to Nick. “Key?”

With a sigh, Nick handed the ring over, separating one key and letting the rest dangle from the key chain.