“Why did the chief of police send you over here to be my bodyguard?” Amber asked.

Garrett realized she’d read him too well. “I know you saw something in that parking lot, Amber. And the chief knows you saw something, but…”

“But what?”

“Nothing has turned up. They found no evidence of any kind of struggle like you described.”

Amber turned and walked to the door. “Please go now. I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait! They believe you. I believe you. It’s just that there’s still nothing more to go on. The chief hoped I could talk through it with you again, maybe find a lead….”

Amber looked skeptical. “I’ve told you everything I know. I’ve been in to try to talk to the police every day…they’ve never asked any more questions. No one is willing to even talk to me, Garrett.”

“Give me a chance to figure this out, Amber, before the suspect can target you, too. I’m not giving up on this case until I have answers.”

CAROL STEWARD

To Carol Steward, selling a book is much like riding a roller coaster—every step of the process, every sale brings that exhilarating high. During the less exciting times, she’s busy gathering ideas and refilling her cup. Writing brings a much needed balance to her life, as she has her character share lessons she herself learned.

When she’s not working at the University of Northern Colorado, you can usually find her spending time with her husband of more than thirty years, writing and thanking God she survived raising her own three children to reap His rewards of playing with her adorable grandchildren.

Throughout all of the different seasons of life, God has continued to teach Carol to turn to Him. She has also learned to simplify her life and appreciate her many blessings—His gift of creativity, sharing her love for God with readers and setting an example of what God can do when we say, “Yes, God, take me, shape me, use me.” To find out more about Carol’s slightly crazy life and her books, visit her Web site at www.carolsteward.com.

Shield of Refuge
Carol Steward

MILLS & BOON

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This God, His way is perfect; the promise

of the Lord proves true; He is a shield for

all those who take refuge in Him.

—2 Samuel 22:31

There are so many people who have helped me

through this book and who have inspired this story,

there’s no way to list everyone. My editor,

Melissa, for your patience, my family for taking

care of me for a change, to my friends for

understanding and holding me up in prayer and to

my precious granddaughter and grandson,

Grandma is ready to play!

And to my son, Scott, and the love of his life,

God has a plan, hold on to His promise.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

ONE

Amber Scott rushed into the Victorian Inn with the bottom tier of the anniversary cake. The other layers and tools were already inside and prepped for assembly. She only had a few minutes to put this cake together and get the other one to her friend’s wedding shower across town.

Thanks to her assistant going home sick midafternoon, Amber was running behind on everything. She’d had several last-minute customers looking for just the right costume for the harvest party at the senior center. Her grandmother’s friends were thrilled with the changes Amber had made to Nana’s bakery and with her determination to keep the business alive.

She squeezed the bag of icing, piping the finishing touches to the bottom layer, then placed the six-inch heart layer on top of the base cake and piped a reverse-scroll design to cover the seam between the two cakes. After a final inspection, Amber left the invoice with the headwaiter and rushed out to her van.

A white car with a portable police beacon on top—like those she’d seen on reruns of T.V. cop shows—had pulled up behind the parked cars. The odd thing was, the beacon wasn’t lit.

In a hurry to get to her friend’s wedding shower, Amber pressed the sliding-door opener on the key fob, set her decorating kit into the gap, and rearranged the boxes of supplies and favors so the shower cake wouldn’t slide around and get damaged.

After a quick study of the officer’s haphazard parking job, Amber determined it was parked too close for her to back out. Her breathing quickened as she thought of asking him to move a little.

She didn’t like cops.

Just wait patiently until he’s gone.

She grabbed the gift bag for the shower and set it on the passenger’s seat and glanced at the policeman as he talked to the driver of a yellow SUV. He nodded toward his car, then grabbed the car door and yanked it open.

Amber felt a sudden chill.

The cop pulled the driver out of the vehicle. She looked young and pretty…and vulnerable.

Amber heard the woman protest, though she wasn’t exactly sure what she’d said. Watching the confrontation through the tinted windows, Amber wondered if the two knew each other.

The officer looked as if he was whispering in her ear, and Amber began to believe it was true.

Suddenly he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the unmarked car and the woman struggled to get away. She was wearing athletic pants and one of those tight-fitting tops with a hood that she’d seen the volleyball players wear into the shop. The door of the yellow SUV stood wide open.

Amber’s heart raced as the officer struggled to get the cuffs on the girl. She jumped into the driver’s seat, closed and locked the doors, trying to avoid bringing any attention to herself.

She searched for her cell phone. Not finding it on the console, she reached for her purse, hoping she’d dropped it in there. Her eyes darted nervously from the purse to the confrontation outside.

They must know each other. If not, why wasn’t she yelling? Or running? Something was wrong.

The girl freed one arm and took a swing at him. He lunged back, and the two rolled against the car as he fought to pull her other arm back into the cuffs. The struggle untucked his uniform shirt and the fabric billowed in the cold breeze. She screamed, and he snapped his hand over her mouth, pressing something into the small of her back. The handcuffed woman arched her back, then went limp. He gave her a final shove into the car, pushed her feet inside and closed the door. He hurried to the other side, stumbling at the trunk.

Amber was stunned. Was he a real officer? She tried to ward away the sick feeling in her stomach. If he was a real officer, she would be crazy to confront him. Not with her past. She had just put her problems behind her. She didn’t need to dig up trouble now.

While history told her to mind her own business, the new faith she’d found in God told her this wasn’t what it looked like. God, what should I do?

She quickly replayed the incident in her mind. She realized she’d never seen an officer cover someone’s mouth. He was crazy to use a bare hand. His uniform looked like those on the costume racks in her shop: baggy enough to fit any build, light, flimsy fabric to go over a coat or sweatshirt. And he didn’t have a gun belt or radio, or any of the official-looking things Amber remembered from when police visited the dorms.

Her heart seemed to be following her racing brain, trying to keep pace. She was breathing fast. She looked over her shoulder as the police officer pulled the bubble light into the car and sped away.

Be with that girl, God. Protect her….

After several encounters with the police in her freshman year, she really didn’t like talking to the police. She had to call. But what would she say? If it was police brutality, would they even believe her, or would they accuse her of false reporting? Were the underage drinking charges, fake ID and running from the police still on her record?

Just call, before it’s too late, she told herself. She found her phone, dialed 911 and pressed the send button before she chickened out again.

I can’t let this happen. I can stop him from hurting her.

She backed out of the diagonal parking space trying to juggle her phone and shift gears, hoping she could find the car and help the woman. She glanced around. Not seeing it, she pressed the speaker phone.

“911 operator, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m outside the Victorian Inn just off the University Campus. I just saw a police officer push a woman into an unmarked car. Only I don’t think he’s really an officer.”

The woman didn’t respond, and Amber wondered if they’d been disconnected. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I’m sending an officer to check it out,” the woman said, slightly rattled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I don’t think he saw me.”

Her mind was playing games with her. Like the e-mail she’d received this afternoon with the geometric designs. The designs had been spinning like a pinwheel in a tornado, which was supposedly a sign of intense stress. The design hadn’t been moving at all.

She had blown off the psychological analysis of the e-mail as nothing more than an optical illusion.

Now here she was witnessing a crime and calling the cops. Seeing a police officer pushing a woman into an unmarked car just wasn’t right. The police were going to think she’d lost her mind. Right now, she would agree.

She started to hang up, then thought again about the girl.

Of course she was right to call the police. She’d already missed her chance to stop the assault. Maybe it wasn’t too late….

“What is your current location?” The operator pulled Amber’s attention back to the bizarre events that she’d just witnessed.

“I’m at—” she had to rethink her delivery instructions “—The Victorian Inn is on University and…Elm. I delivered a cake there,” she started to explain before realizing that wasn’t important. “The crime happened there, now the car is a few blocks ahead of me. He turned on Maple.” She pressed on the gas. “When I came out…of the inn, I mean…I heard a man ordering a young woman to get out of her car. They struggled, and then she just went limp and he stuffed her into the backseat and took off.”

“Your name?”

“Amber…” Her past mistakes haunted her. It was too late to back away now. She took off after the car. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, Amber, I’m sending officers to talk to you.”

“He’s turned again. He’s heading north on…just a minute, here comes a street sign.”

“He’s moving?” the operator squeaked, forcing calm to her voice. “Are you following him?”

“Yes, I told you, he drove away, with the girl…” Amber said, struggling with whether to speed up and catch them, or keep her distance. If she caught up to them, what then?

“Amber, did you get a license number before he took off?”

She pressed the gas. “Other than it was from here in Colorado, no, but I could catch up to him. Are you saying he really wasn’t an officer?”

“We’re still trying to determine that. I’ve dispatched any available units. Give me your current location, then pull to the side of the road and stop.”

“He just turned left on…Cherry Pit Avenue.”

Amber had already entered the intersection. She slowed down to make the turn. “Where’d he go?”

She glanced right and left searching for him. Sirens warbled from all directions. They’d probably scared him. Where could he have disappeared to in a residential area like this? She searched for open garages or alleys where he could have hidden.

The sirens were getting louder. She looked up just in time to see a silver vehicle cross in front of her. She slammed on the brakes and straightened her arms, pressing her hands into the steering wheel as she heard the crunch and scrape of her van hitting the back fender.

The SUV spun in slow motion, police lights flashing, sirens screeching. Then the silver vehicle tipped up on two wheels, flipped over to its roof and twirled like a top.

Amber screamed as her van fishtailed before coming to a stop at the opposite curb. “Oh, no…. I hit him! Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, please let him be okay. Let him be okay, please. Help! 911, send help, fast!”

TWO

The woman who had hit him jumped out of her van and ran toward his police cruiser. He smelled fumes, turned and saw gasoline flowing toward him.

Hanging upside down from the seatbelt, Garrett Matthews looked out the window to see a woman’s legs in black tights and black suede fashion boots. She kicked the shards of glass aside with her boots, then dropped to the ground, a black-and-turquoise patterned dress floating over her knees.

“You’ve got to get out. There’s gas gushing out all over,” she said frantically.

He glanced at her, disoriented, then pressed the button on the mike. “Dispatch, Officer four-six-three involved in two-car rollover accident at intersection of—” he glanced around “—where are we?” he said to the woman.

“Just get out of there!” she yelled. “I’m still on with 911, they’re sending help.” She took a deep breath and coughed from the fumes. “Come on, we need to get you out.”

He turned the key to off and removed it, handing it to the woman for safekeeping. She looked at it oddly, furrowing her brows.

What was he thinking?

Tugging on the seat belt strapping him upside down, Garrett struggled with the buckle to release. “It’s jammed.” He reached for the glove box, hoping to find an emergency kit. It was out of his reach. His knife was in his belt, securely trapped under the seat belt. “I need something sharp.”

“Just a minute.” She ran to the van and returned with a ten-inch serrated knife. The woman was gorgeous. She dropped to her knees and reached inside, directing the knife to the gray strap stretched across his chest.

His eyes opened wide and suddenly the fog lifted from his mind. “Aren’t you in enough trouble without threatening an officer? Give me that.”

“What?” She backed away. “I’m trying to save your life. I don’t mean to panic you, but gas is spilling—the car may blow up.”

“The car’s not going to blow up,” he insisted. “May I borrow your knife?” She hesitated, then handed it to him. He took the handle, and with a sawing motion he cut through the mesh strap and fell to the ground, landing on his head. “Why are you carrying a knife around in your car?”

“I’m a cake decorator. It’s in my delivery kit. Come on, you have to get out.”

He twisted his wide shoulders, shoving the objects that had scattered across the roof out of the way while reaching for the window opening. He looked up to her huge blue eyes as he tried to find something to push against. “I don’t suppose this door will open, will it? When I pull on the latch, you pull on the door.”

The woman found a place with no glass and tugged as he pushed. “I don’t think so. Do you want me to try the other side?”

“No, I’ll get out somehow.”

“Let me get the glass out of the way so you don’t cut yourself.” She kicked at the tiny pellets of glass with her boot.

“Don’t bother,” he growled, then, realizing she was right—he just needed to get out. If they had to pull glass from his back, so be it. The fumes were making him sick. He waved her aside and used his legs to push himself out the narrow window, all the time trying to ignore the Marilyn Monroe look-alike waiting for him.

“Come on!” She tapped her boot, holding the billowy skirt of her dress against her legs as he pulled his ticket can from the cruiser and collected a few more belongings. She pulled on his arm as he stumbled to his feet and picked up his ticket can. “Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down.”

With a healthy tan and shimmering brownish-blond tendrils of hair softening the dramatic high cheekbones and narrow nose, she was gorgeous. How could he be angry with that look of concern in her brilliant blue eyes?

He shrugged, sending a pain down his arm. He needed to ignore the niggling reminder that he should have slowed down at each intersection. Much as he wanted to blame her, and her alone, he couldn’t. He needed to get on with his job. He looked around, assessing the situation, then started to radio in their location.

“I’m so sorry. I wanted to find that car and get the license plate number….”

He took his hand off the mike. “You’re the reporting party? You’re Amber?”

She looked terrified, but nodded.

He reached for his notepad and pen in his chest pocket, realizing too late that they’d fallen out when he turned over in the SUV. “They didn’t give your last name.” He opened the lid of the clipboard and pulled out a ticket and pen.

“Amber Scott,” she said softly. She backed away. “I was afraid to try to stop him. I could’ve at least yelled…I should have backed my van into him, but I just had it painted….” She looked at it and shook her head. “Lot of good that did—look at it now.”

Paintings of bright-colored balloons and streamers were crumpled and smooshed all over the front fender of the minivan. “It’s just a machine. It can be repaired.” His head started spinning. His shoulder burned. “You did the right thing not getting involved. If you had tried to intervene there may have been two women apprehended. Only thing you shouldn’t have done was follow him. How’re you doing? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

He gave her another once-over, concurring with her assessment. She looked mighty fine. He forced himself to process the accident as if he weren’t a victim. If he focused on the scene, maybe he wouldn’t hurt so bad. “We’ll let the paramedics check you out just as a precaution.” He looked at his police cruiser and shook his head. So much for his perfect record.

“They really don’t need to do that. I’m so sorry about the accident. Are you okay?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” he said, hoping that saying it would make it so. “So what kind of car was it?”

“What kind of car?” Amber stared at him and shrugged. “I don’t know. It looked like a police car except it was white and didn’t have the logo and police stripes.”

“A Crown Vic?”

“A what?”

“Crown Victoria…that’s the model of car used by the police around here. Huge boat, like your grandparents probably drove back in the seventies.”

“Sure,” she said with a blank stare.

He took hold of her arm and pulled her away from the overturned vehicle as she rattled off details he wasn’t going to be able to remember, let alone make any sense of.

“A woman was forced into the backseat.”

“A four-door sedan, then,” he said, stopping just inches from her.

“Yeah,” she said. “I was trying to help, but…” She backed away from him and crossed her arms across her chest. “They’re still looking for the car, right?” Sirens came to a stop as more officers arrived, surrounding them.

“Oh, no, I hit a cop,” she mumbled. She paced frantically, hugging her arms to her body.

“That’s just dawning on you?” He could almost feel her pain. She stared at him, her blue eyes framed with long lashes.

“Well, no…but…I think it’s just sinking in. Really sinking in, I mean.” She had a sick look on her face. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to find the car. It looked like he killed her.”

“You didn’t tell that to dispatch.”

She stopped pacing. “Didn’t I?” she asked, looking him in the eye. She sidestepped away from the two officers who were headed their way.

“You okay?” each officer echoed as they approached.

Amber didn’t respond.

“Yeah, we’re doing okay,” Garrett answered. Despite his claim, the officers radioed for an ambulance and tow trucks, then dispersed to assess the damage.

He turned back to Ms. Scott, staggering slightly. “So what makes you think he killed her?” he asked, trying to keep his balance. He couldn’t believe this had happened. What rotten timing. He had been in perfect health when he’d applied to the federal agencies. Becoming a fed had always been his dream. Now that he had a year of street patrol experience under his belt and his master’s degree, he’d been sure he’d get a call. Until now. Perfect health, perfect record—all gone in an instant.

“The woman was fighting against him, then she just went limp. Like she’d just dropped dead. There was no noise, nothing.”

Garrett studied the woman who’d run into him, trying to ignore her brilliant blue eyes—eyes that couldn’t tell a lie if she tried. He’d bet his life on it. “Did you see anything else? Blood? A knife? A gun?” He didn’t want to embarrass her by pointing out that a body went limp when someone fainted, too. Feeling a little light-headed himself, Garrett felt himself sway.

Before the woman could answer, Lieutenant Chavez ordered him to sit down. “An ambulance is on the way, Matthews.” As Garrett looked for a place to collapse, the lieutenant addressed the woman who’d ruined his record. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she insisted, pushing past the lieutenant and the other officer and closer to Garrett. “I didn’t see any blood. I was looking through the tinted glass, so it was too dark, and…” She paused. “I couldn’t see whether it was a knife, or gun, but I didn’t hear a gunshot.”

“This is our RP, Lieutenant. Amber Scott. She was following the suspect…” The flashing lights of the squad cars were making him sick. “Could you ask them to turn off the flashers?”

While another officer went to give the order, Amber started explaining why she’d been following.

“Did you find the girl? The car?” she asked before she explained, again, what she had witnessed.

Lieutenant Chavez brushed her concerns aside, suggesting she needed to calm down and wait for the ambulance to arrive. “We’ll handle…”

She lifted her hand to her hip. “You’re not listening to me,” Amber insisted, clearly annoyed with technicalities of anything but the crime. “She was trying to scream and he covered her mouth with his hand, then suddenly she went limp.” Another officer approached and tried to lead her away. “But what about the girl? The car? Why are you all here, and not looking for her?”

“Don’t worry, Ms….” Garrett said, trying to ignore the dizziness. He glanced at his fellow officer.

Lieutenant Chavez shone his flashlight in Garrett’s face. “Garrett? You okay?”

He didn’t answer.

Amber turned and looked at him. She pressed her key fob, opening the sliding door of her van behind her. “Here,” she said. “Sit down while you wait for the ambulance. Just watch out for the cake box.” She rearranged things, then slid the box to the back of the van. “Oh, no, the shower. I’m going to be late. I need to make a phone call.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to be more than late, Ms. Scott. Make your call,” Lieutenant Chavez said, then looked at him. “Sit down, Garrett.”

He was in no condition to ignore an order. He sat in the doorway and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, nauseating aroma of a bakery mixed with gas fumes.

God, don’t let this be serious. He fought off the nausea, eyeing the interesting mess inside—plastic umbrellas, a gift bag with satin spaghetti straps dangling from the front seat, and a small box of what he hoped had nothing to do with the rest of her assortment. He had to be seeing things.

She must have seen his reaction to the contents, as she reached past him and tucked the flimsy fabric into a gift bag and apologized for the mess. “I was making deliveries on the way to a friend’s wedding shower…when I saw the officer…”

“Officer? What kind of officer?” Chavez asked as he approached.

“Police,” she whispered, looking more terrified by the minute. “It was a police costume, I think. The more I’ve thought about it, I don’t think it was real. The fabric was too thin and blew when she ripped it from his pants. It wasn’t made as well as yours.” She stole a glance at Garrett’s shirt. “Are you wearing a bulletproof vest?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I noticed that the policeman’s shirt, the impersonator policeman…” she stammered, “his was too baggy, but it didn’t register until now. It’s probably because you all wear bulletproof vests, right?”

If Garrett hadn’t felt like throwing up, he’d have laughed.

“Yeah, what else did you notice?” the lieutenant asked, skepticism dripping from each word.

“He covered her mouth with his hand. I’ve never seen any real officer doing that….” She looked nervously from Chavez back to Garrett. “Especially with a bare hand. I mean, some drug addict could bite you, right?” Her fear-filled eyes met Garrett’s again as a state patrol officer arrived and introduced himself.

Garrett wondered if she’d be half as gorgeous if he hadn’t hit his head. While a couple officers were cleaning up the gasoline with kitty litter, the others were simply staring at Amber Scott. Apparently her good looks weren’t his imagination. Her blond hair was pulled back into a clip and looked like she’d knocked the clip askew in the accident.

He glanced back at the shower gift and cake as the state patrolman walked around the van, inspecting the scene with a raised eyebrow. “Interesting cargo, Ms. Scott,” the patrolman said, vocalizing Garrett’s thoughts. He pulled his ticket book from the metal clipboard. “May I have your license and registration, please?”

She had to get into the van in order to find the documents, then dug through her purse for her driver’s license. “Have they found the car yet?”

“I’m mainly concerned with Officer Matthews’s and your safety right now,” the state patrolman replied with a cocky smile. “Have you had anything to drink this evening?”

“No,” she answered, then turned back to her glove box.

The patrolman ran his gaze up and down Amber, then gave her a look of contempt. “Would you agree to a test?”

Garrett didn’t like the way he was eyeing her.

She propped her forearm on the steering wheel. “That’s fine, I don’t drink, and I don’t do drugs. I was…”

Garrett intervened. “Colorado State Patrol is only here to process the accident,” he said, “because Fossil Creek Police Department can’t investigate our own accidents.”

Amber slid out of the van and handed everything to the patrolman while one of the officers was measuring the skid marks and taking pictures of the vehicles, inside and out.

The patrolman glared at Garrett, then turned to talk to the lieutenant. The two moved to look under the van, probably to verify how much fluid it had lost, he thought.

She closed the front door, then leaned against the van next to Garrett. “What if it’s the rapist that everyone’s been looking for?”

“We already caught him, and this wasn’t the same MO,” Garrett muttered before the lieutenant heard and got involved again.

“Oh, I guess I missed that in the newspaper.” She began to wring her hands. “But this girl could be hurt.”

“It’s okay, calm down—just answer the officer’s questions. Don’t offer more,” Garrett mumbled.

Amber leaned closer and whispered to him. “Are the charges for hitting a cop worse than running into someone else?”

“Not unless I mention the knife,” he said with a wink.

“That’s not funny,” she said, a nervous smile twitching her lip. “I was only trying to help.”

His gaze met hers and they both smiled. “No, hitting a cop is no different, unless it’s intentional.” He glanced at the geometric designs on her dress, then back to her alluring face. He’d never reacted this way to anyone on the job.

“Well, if one judged by the dozen or so glowering stares I’m receiving from them, one would think so. Can’t some of these officers go looking for the girl? He’s getting away.”

“He’s already gotten away,” Garrett said as he closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. “Don’t be concerned about the officers. They…” They’re trying not to drool. The image brought a brief mental smile. “Don’t worry, the Fossil Creek Police Department will ask you about the crime you witnessed after the accident is processed,” he said quietly, hoping he didn’t sound as bad as he felt. I just wish you hadn’t hit me. He inhaled a breath of fresh air, propping his knees on his elbows.

“What’s your name? Garrett or Matthew? I heard them call you both. I want to be praying that your injuries aren’t serious. If that’s okay, I mean. I guess God knows who I hit, but it would mean more to me to know I’m praying for you personally. I owe you at least that much.”

“Garrett Matthews. I can use all the prayers I can get. Thanks.”

“They don’t believe me, do they?”

“They’ll look into it,” he mumbled, not wanting to admit there were far too many officers standing here, gawking like the civilians they made fun of for chasing emergency lights. They shouldn’t be here, but that wasn’t his call. He had just finished his rookie year.

A compact car drove up and parked nearby. Another woman approached one of the officers, then spotted Amber and made a beeline for her. “Are you okay?” Guessing by the hug, Garrett figured she was the friend hosting the shower.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but I’m not sure about the officer I hit. I’ll call you later.” Her voice got softer as she spoke. Amber carried the cake and the gift to the car. “Don’t mention my accident to Maya. No need to panic the bride two weeks before the wedding. I’ll figure out a way to get the cake to the resort. I don’t need her to worry about that, too—”

The state patrolman interrupted. “Your van’s going to be in the shop for a while, so if you need any of the other things, you may as well send them with your friend now.”

The women quickly moved everything from van to car and the friend left.

When Amber returned to the empty van, Garrett smiled. “Handcuffs for a wedding shower?”

“Handcuffs? Oh, no, those aren’t for the shower.” Her porcelain skin turned bright pink. “Parties Galore also has costumes and decorations. I was going to repackage them for costume parties. They were on back order and just came in. Police costumes are very popular, you know.”

“I see. Bride’s name wouldn’t happen to be Sarah, would it?”

“I’m afraid I can’t share my client’s information.” She quirked her eyebrow, trying to hide her smile. “Why? Is that your fiancée?”

“My what?” He laughed. “No way.” Garrett shook his head. “Future sister-in-law,” he whispered.

“Well, send her my way. I’m a party planner and owner of Parties Galore—used to be the bakery downtown. Weddings are my specialty.”

“I see.” He forced a smile as he stood. Flashing lights caught his attention and he headed toward the ambulance. “I’ll be sure to pass along your name.”

She studied him. “Are you okay? You look kind of pale. Maybe you need some food. I should have offered you a bite of cake.”

“No,” he growled. “I’m not much for sweets, even when I’m feeling good.”

Just as he started to weave, Amber stepped up next to him and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Here, lean on my shoulder,” she said, then called for help. The paramedics rushed to her aid with the gurney and took his vitals, then put a neck brace on. “I don’t need that. There’s nothing wrong…” he argued, even though he knew it was futile.

Lieutenant Chavez reminded Garrett that it was a requirement that he get checked out in any on-duty accident.

Garrett watched the fear escalate in Amber’s eyes and fought the inclination to be angry with her. While he didn’t feel fine, he knew he had to do something to ease Amber Scott’s guilt. It wasn’t as if she’d been rushing to make it to the wedding shower. She was after a kidnapper, just as he would have been under the same circumstances.

A few minutes of oxygen in the ambulance and he’d be fine again, he was sure of it.

Garrett looked at Amber and winked. “I’m going to be fine. It’s just a formality.”

She didn’t look convinced.

The paramedics rattled off numbers that indicated his heart was doing just fine, considering he’d just been in an accident and met an attractive woman. “Hey,” he said to the lead medic. “Give me a minute, would you?” He waggled his finger, motioning for Amber to come closer.

She stepped to his side and stared at him, regret and fear washing the color from her face. “How can I ever make this right?” she asked.

“You did all the wrong things for all the right reasons. I admire you for that.” He reached up and touched her hand. “That in itself is enough for me.”

THREE

Amber watched in fear as they loaded the officer into the ambulance and drove away. God, take care of Officer Matthews, and help him remember how much I regret hurting him.

“Ms. Scott, we need to get more information from you about the crime you apparently witnessed.”

“Apparently?” She knew that tone and it snapped her right out of her pity party. Pretty blonde, just pacify her. “I didn’t ‘apparently’ witness anything,” she said, wishing she could sound more forceful. “I did witness a crime, and somewhere out there a woman’s life is in danger. So are you telling me you let a dozen or more officers stand here and glare at me over an innocent accident and no one was out there looking for the criminal? A police impersonator may have killed someone? That’s just frightening, Officer.”

“Lieutenant Chavez.” He glared at her, reminding her why she disliked police officers. “If you’d have left the pursuit up to us, we wouldn’t be here now, and one of my officers wouldn’t be headed to the hospital.”

“I can’t tell you how bad I feel about Officer Matthews. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. Why else would I follow someone that had already hurt one woman?”

“I don’t know, you tell me why you’d put yourself in danger when it didn’t involve you? Did you recognize either of the people?” The lieutenant seemed as annoyed as Amber was.

“No. If I did, why wouldn’t I tell you who it was?” She watched them load her van onto the tow truck and drive away, wondering how she was going to get home. She didn’t want to ask. The lieutenant wasn’t as cordial as Officer Matthews. Surely at some point they’d let her know. An officer was sweeping up the glass, but most were finally leaving, getting back onto patrol she hoped.

The officer motioned to his police cruiser. “Get in and show me where you saw the crime take place. The officers can finish up here.”

Amber suddenly froze. It wasn’t even intentional, though she was sure the officer wouldn’t see it that way. She knew from past experience, officers didn’t like their authority questioned. She certainly didn’t need another resisting arrest on her record. The first time she’d been sure the plain clothes cop was an imposter, until after he’d caught her and cuffed her. She didn’t need a repeat.

A female officer joined them. “I’m Samantha Taylor, the victim’s advocate officer. Do you have someone who can pick you up after you’re done tonight?”

Amber shook her head. “I’m not sure, depends on how long this takes.”

“I’d guess at least another hour,” Samantha said, pulling a card from her pocket.

“No, most of my friends are at a wedding shower.”

“Well then, have one of the officers give me a call when you’re done and I’ll take you home. And here’s my card.”

“Thanks.”

“Officer Taylor, could you come with us to the scene please?” The lieutenant gave instructions to another officer and led Amber to his squad car.

The female officer stepped into pace with them, easing Amber’s concerns about being alone with the grumpy officer. The two officers sat in the front seats of the squad car and put Amber in the back.

“So, where’d this incident take place?”

She directed him to the Victorian Inn, going through the incident as he drove. After they got out, she showed him where she’d parked, and where the police car had been. “This is the yellow SUV that the woman was driving, well, not literally driving, but she was inside it. It was in this same place.”

The officers took a quick look around it, using a gloved hand to try to open any of the doors. They were all locked.

“When I came out from finishing the cake, I saw the unmarked police car parked in the street behind the yellow SUV, but sort of pulled in at an angle. There, where that black Suburban is now. That’s where I was parked. The cop was parked…” She looked around, pictured herself walking out of the inn, thinking about the scene. “About here.” Amber pointed to the right. “There was a small car between the yellow SUV and me. The door to the SUV was open when I drove off after him, though.”

“Run the plates on it, Taylor,” the lieutenant ordered while he shone a flashlight both directions along the ground. “You sure this is where it happened?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I parked in the 15-minute zone because I wasn’t staying much longer than to assemble a two-tier anniversary cake. This space was the only one available, because I thought it was too bad I couldn’t have had the closer spot, so I wouldn’t have to go around the van carrying the heavy cake. When I came out, the spot I wanted,” she pointed to it, “was open. Then next to it was a red Mustang.”

“I thought you told Officer Matthews you don’t know cars,” he said, interrupting her thought process.

“I always wanted a Mustang, so I noticed it, candy-apple red. That’s when I heard the man telling her to get out of her truck. I was putting my cake kit into the van and rearranged it a little because I didn’t want the cake to be damaged, since it didn’t fit into a covered box. I thought of asking him to move, but I don’t…I didn’t have a good feeling about him.”

Amber continued to explain, feeling as if she was repeating herself for nothing, while the officers both took notes and asked more questions.

Lieutenant Chavez put his flashlight back into his belt. “Did they see or hear you?”

Amber shrugged, tired of going through all of this. “Not that I’m aware of. Once I realized this wasn’t really a cop, I got in the van and started looking for my phone. I was so scared. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I keep thinking I should have honked the horn or something. I couldn’t think.” She felt her heart sink and tears stung her eyes. “I didn’t know what to do.

Then all of a sudden, she went limp, and he forced her into the backseat of the car. And I just panicked. I couldn’t believe what I’d just seen. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did exactly what you should have done,” the lieutenant said gently. He paused to let her compose herself before continuing the questioning. “And you have no idea if he stabbed her, or what caused her to go limp?”

“I couldn’t see that well. There were shadows from the trees. It was getting dark. The guy was in the way.” Amber closed her eyes and focused. “She jerked, like someone in pain. Maybe he did stab her?”

“There’s no sign of a scuffle, no blood, no evidence that I can see.” The female officer raised an eyebrow. “What made you think it was a police car in the first place?”

“It had one of those little bubble lights on top, like on cop shows, where they stick it up on the roof from out their window.”

“We don’t use any of those, even on unmarked cars,” the lieutenant explained.

“I’ve only seen them on television, but I’m convinced that he was an imposter. I recognize the piping on the costume. I bought some of them for my shop.”

“We’ll need to see them, and who has rented them. And if anyone returns one, don’t launder it until we’ve run some tests on it.”

“No problem, but I haven’t seen this guy in my store. The costume could have been ordered online,” Amber said as the officers scoured the street for any sign of a struggle.

The lieutenant approached while the female officer continued searching for any sign of a scuffle. “I’m going to need a physical description of each of them.”

Amber thought a minute or two before confessing, “I’m not sure how much I saw. The sun was going down, and the shadows…”

After coming up with nothing, Officer Taylor said, “Stand where you were this evening.” The officers both moved next to the yellow vehicle. “Is this about how tall the guy was?”

Amber compared their height to the yellow vehicle. “I think the guy was shorter than you, Lieutenant Chavez, about Officer Taylor’s height, I’d guess, and the girl was about the same.”

“Good,” the woman said. “What else do you remember?”

“He was stocky, but not fat, a long buzz cut, and probably Hispanic. She was Caucasian, long brown or dark reddish hair maybe, for some reason, red sticks in my mind, tall, but not too thin.”

“Any tattoos or jewelry on either of them?” Officer Taylor asked.

Amber shrugged, closed her eyes and tried to see the image again. “I couldn’t see them that clearly.”

“Any indication he might have had gang affiliations?”

She shook her head, trying to understand how someone wearing a cop uniform could also look like a gang member. “No. He was wearing a police uniform. My first impression was it was legit.”

“And her?” the lieutenant asked.

“I can’t be sure. She was wearing a blue tight-fitting top with a hood, but she looked like the athletes that come into my shop for their sugar fix.”

“I don’t see anything here. It’s almost unheard of for a victim not to drop something during an abduction. I thought maybe she’d left her purse or backpack in the vehicle, but I can’t be sure without getting inside. We can’t do that without a warrant. Did the suspect stop for any length of time after he closed her in the police car?” Officer Taylor asked.

“It all seemed to happen so fast at the time,” Amber said as she closed her eyes and walked herself through the incident again, step by step, whispering to herself.

The lieutenant took a slow walk around the area again, shaking his head.

“This doesn’t seem like a sexual assault, and it definitely doesn’t fit the MO of the guy we got,” Officer Taylor said as she returned to Amber’s side. The radio interrupted their conversation, and Samantha focused on it. “Looks like the vehicle is registered to a twenty-five-year-old male, Marcus Smith. I can check on him later.”

Amber struggled to recall what the suspect looked like, relieved that Officer Taylor seemed to believe her. “Wait a minute. It’s possible she had something hanging from her shoulder. She broke away once when they were almost to the car, she swung at him, and he threw her against the side of the trunk. She could have dropped something there. After he got the second cuff on her and stuffed her in the car, he stumbled when he was going around the car, but maybe he didn’t stumble, maybe he stooped to pick something up.”

“Are you sure about that?” the lieutenant asked.

Amber shrugged. “Pretty sure.” She just realized something she hadn’t noticed before. “It was a Rocky Mountain University top. I saw it as she was being pushed into the car.”

“You’re sure?” he said again.

She leveled a glare at the lieutenant. She hadn’t realized how comfortable she’d been answering Officer Matthews’s questions. She was quickly realizing he wasn’t like other cops. “I’m not making this up as I go along. I simply didn’t remember every little detail before.”

The female officer held out her hand. “It’s normal to remember additional facts as the adrenaline wears off. Just keep writing everything down as you remember it. Someone from FCPD will be in touch if we need more information.”

The lieutenant moved toward the squad car and directed them to do the same.

She was taken to the police station, where they asked her to write out her report of the incident leading up to the accident, then gave her information about contacting the towing company to schedule her transport to the repair shop. She added it to the careless driving and speeding ticket in her bag.

“Have you heard how Officer Matthews is doing?”

“No, we can’t give out that information.” The records clerk took the report form and turned away.

When Amber was released she assured the officer that she’d reached a friend to give her a ride. She left the station, tears stinging her eyes. She walked to the nearest bus stop, and got off at the hospital she’d overheard mentioned on the police radio. She hoped she wasn’t too late to check in on Officer Matthews.

FOUR

Garrett Matthews opened his eyes and fought the nausea back with more ice chips. “The police force is already shorthanded, Doc. I can at least do something in the office, can’t I?”

“The CT scan looks good, but you’ll need to take a few days off from full duty, make sure this concussion is fully gone before you’re back out on the streets. You’re going to be pretty sore for a while.”

“Nothing a few over-the-counter painkillers won’t cure, right?”

“Maybe. The symptoms of whiplash very often don’t show up for several days. You’re not to push it. And I mean it, Garrett.”

It was just his luck that their family doctor happened to be in the ER with another patient when the ambulance arrived. There was no hope of fooling Dr. Call.

“Can you arrange to have someone stay with you tonight?” the doctor asked as he wrote on Garrett’s chart.

Garrett rolled his eyes and shifted on the too-short bed trying to find a comfortable position. “I’m sure you’ve already called Mom and Dad. And yes, they’d be happy to watch out for me.”

“I couldn’t reach them. Maybe one of your brothers could stay with you. I suspect Kira and her new husband might even take you in for the night if we called them.”

“I’m not calling the newlyweds. Nick is working tonight, and Mom and Dad will probably be home any time. They never leave their cell phone on. Kent and Renee have gone to Mexico on vacation.” Garrett felt the weight of his head smoosh the pillow.

“You rest here then until we reach someone. Headache starting?”

His eyes drifted closed. “No.”

“You can’t go to sleep, Garrett. And it won’t do you any good to deny the headache. You’re not going back to work, in any case,” Dr. Call informed him. “I want to check you out in a week to clear you for full duty.”

“A week?”

“Not one foot in the car, Garrett Matthews….” Dr. Call demanded as much respect now as he had when Garrett was a kid.

“But…”

“Not one. I’ve fought with your father when he was still on duty, and won then, too. Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean you can pull a fast one over me. Your eyes are glazed over, one pupil is dilated. You have a concussion and in that condition, you’re more danger to the community than you are a help. I’m going to go find a nurse or hospital volunteer to sit with you and make sure you don’t fall asleep. We want to keep you awake for a while longer.”

“I just want to help in the office,” he said lamely as the doctor left his room.

Garrett heard a gentle knock and turned, surprised to see the woman who’d run into him walk meekly into the room.

“I just had to make sure you’re okay.”

He looked at her, reassured that she was just as pretty in the light. “I’m going to be fine,” he said, eyeing his uniform laying across the chair. “How’d you get in here?”

She shrugged, though a pretty pink tinge colored her delicate skin. “I slipped in the exit as someone was leaving. Things get kind of hectic in an ER.” She smiled softly, and Garrett felt the pain in his head ease up considerably. “The police wouldn’t tell me anything. I’ll leave as soon as I know you’re okay, I promise. You didn’t look good when they took you in the ambulance. I’ve been worried.”

Garrett laughed. “Sit down. The doctor says I have a concussion and has gone to pull someone off the streets to keep me from going to sleep. Care to volunteer?”

“Really?” she asked, a smile brightening her face. “You’re not mad at me?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, teasing her. “In my business, I’m well aware that accidents happen. I know you weren’t out to harm anyone.”

She shook her head, a tired smile on her full lips.

“Everyone is busy,” Dr. Call said as he walked through the door. His scowl disappeared immediately when he saw Amber. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had a…visitor. Good. That takes care of that. Should I keep calling your folks, or will your girlfriend be able to stay with you?”

Garrett didn’t want to get Amber into more trouble. “Yes, please. Amber has had a long day.”

The doctor gave her instructions on when to call the nurse and left the room. “You didn’t have to…” She bit her lip, and leaned her head to one side, as if trying to avoid the attraction.

He reached out his hand, hoping she’d take it. “Maybe I’m the one who should be apologizing, for selfishly committing you to staying awhile longer to keep me from falling asleep.”

“It’s me that owes you. You kept me from getting into more trouble more than once tonight, and don’t try to deny that.” She took a hesitant step closer and took hold of his hand momentarily. “I can’t tell you how much I regret the accident, Officer.”

“If you’re going to sneak in here under the pretense of my girlfriend and make sure I don’t fall asleep, I think you’d better call me Garrett. Otherwise I’ll have to call security, and neither of us needs to fill out any more reports tonight, do we?” He smiled, though he really wanted to go to sleep, despite the beautiful woman God had sent tonight to interrupt his life.

“I feel so foolish,” she said quietly. She blinked away tears, and he could see these weren’t her first of the evening. Her mascara was already smudged. “I should have done something to scare the guy away. Maybe the girl would be safe and sound in her dorm room now.”

“No, you shouldn’t have done any more. You definitely shouldn’t. You could’ve been hurt. We don’t know what the suspect’s motive was. It might have been much worse. Don’t blame yourself, Amber.” He listened carefully for the next half hour as she talked through the incident, including the feeling that no one believed what she’d seen.

When the doctor came back into the emergency exam room a while later, he had Garrett’s shift supervisor and his brother Nick with him.

Nick spoke first. “You okay?”

“Apparently not enough to get out of here.”

The lieutenant looked at Amber and his smile faded. “How did you get in here?”

That look of fear returned instantly to Amber’s face.

“It’s okay, I approved her visit. In fact, I asked her to stay to keep me company until they could reach my folks to come take me home,” Garrett confessed, hoping it wasn’t going to cost him more than a little razzing from the guys. “It’s my fault.”

His brother studied Amber. “You own the bakery in Old Town, don’t you? I think we met during the Harvest Festival, a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, I own it, but it’s not just a bakery, it’s now Parties Galore, with party supplies and planning services, and costumes…” She studied his brother, then smiled as she apparently remembered meeting him. “Oh, yes,” she said, looking at Garrett, then back to Nick. “You and a female officer made sure I got into the shop safely, didn’t you? And then your partner came in and rented that chicken costume.”

“That’s right.” He nodded, hiding a smile. “Things going okay?”

“Yes, it’s been very quiet lately, since the festival anyway. Thanks for watching out for all of us downtown.” She looked sheepishly at him. “Garrett, since you have company, I’ll say good-night,” Amber said as she stood. “Stop in the shop sometime. Coffee and pastries are on me.”

“Oh, wait,” Garrett said. “Nick, Amber’s a…party planner. He’s the one who might need help…with a party.”

Nick looked at Garrett as if he’d lost his mind.

“Sure….” She pulled a business card from her bag. “Give me a call. I guarantee I can give you a deal.”

She made a quick exit, and Garrett hated to admit he didn’t want to see her go.

The lieutenant glanced out of the ER room and waited a few minutes before speaking. “You let the woman who turtled you keep you company in the hospital?” he asked in disbelief.

“Someone had to do it. The doctor was looking for volunteers,” Garrett replied, hoping Chavez was in a better mood than he looked. “I’m not kidding. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time twice tonight.”

Nick glanced at their supervisor then back to Garrett. “Sounds like you’ll heal, you’re cranky enough to scare any real damage away,” his brother said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“Did you find anything on the missing girl?”

Lieutenant Chavez shook his head. “I think Ms. Scott has an active imagination.”

Nick’s expression wasn’t as clear. “There’s still a BOLO out, so every officer in the county will be watching for her.”

“May as well inform Wyoming by now. If I’d stuffed a body into a car, I wouldn’t stick around,” Garrett muttered.

“We took Ms. Scott to the location she recalls seeing the incident, but didn’t find anything to support her claim of a struggle,” his supervisor insisted.

“Not an abandoned car? Nothing?” His headache was getting worse. “It was in the area of the university, right? Maybe it was a coed who was going to work, or…”

“Ms. Scott insists the girl was getting into a yellow SUV. It was there, but the door was closed, and the vehicle is registered to a twenty-five-year-old male. We haven’t located him yet,” Lieutenant Chavez said. “We’ll need to wait for a missing person report to come in.”

Garrett looked at his brother in disbelief. Nick didn’t look any happier than Garrett felt right now.

“Amber Scott saw something. She was not making it up.” That woman couldn’t lie if her life depended upon it. He’d stake his life on that. He just had to figure out how to convince the lieutenant to find the suspect before he hurt anyone else. Especially before he realized someone from Parties Galore actually had witnessed the crime.

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