No matter where they hide

her pursuer always finds her...

Bank clerk Lilly Olsen’s the only witness who can identify a vicious conman—and nobody who’s seen his face has ever lived to testify. While entering protective custody with FBI agent David McQueen is necessary, the pair can’t agree on anything when it comes to managing Lilly’s teen daughter. And everywhere they go, danger follows. Is it just coincidence...or has someone betrayed them?

ELISABETH REES was raised in the Welsh town of Hay-on-Wye, where her father was the parish vicar. She attended Cardiff University and gained a degree in politics. After meeting her husband, they moved to the wild rolling hills of Carmarthenshire, and Elisabeth took up writing. She is now a full-time wife, mother and author. Find out more about Elisabeth at elisabethrees.com.

Also By Elisabeth Rees

Caught in the Crosshairs

Safe House Under Fire

Navy SEAL Defenders

Lethal Exposure

Foul Play

Covert Cargo

Unraveling the Past

The SEAL’s Secret Child

Innocent Target

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Safe House Under Fire

Elisabeth Rees

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90647-4

SAFE HOUSE UNDER FIRE

© 2020 Elisabeth Rees

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“There’s a fire in the basement and we need to leave immediately…”

Lilly looked down at her robe and slippers. “Can’t we get dressed first?”

“There’s no time,” said David. “I want to be out of here before the fire department arrives, so we only have five or six minutes at the most.”

“You’re talking like they’re the bad guys.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, Lilly,” he said. “Henderson might be masquerading as a firefighter again. We have no way of knowing who to trust.” He pointed to her open bedroom door. “Go get your daughter, and let’s leave.”

David’s partner approached the front door as someone knocked. “The fire department got here really quick. It looks like they’re doing door-to-door checks.”

The locks turned just as David realized what was about to happen. “No! Don’t do it.”

It was too late. The door flew open with a bang, kicked firmly with a firefighter’s boot.

“I just want the woman and the girl,” Henderson said from behind his mask. “Give them to me…and I’ll let you live.”

Dear Reader,

Thank you for joining David and Lilly on their romantic journey. I hope you enjoyed reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Parenting teens is a subject close to my heart, as I have one teenager of my own, and one in training. It’s often hard to know how to manage teenagers’ ups and downs, coupled with their constant demands. It is the perfect subject matter for a strong conflict between two people.

David and Lilly are both stubborn when it comes to accepting criticism of their parenting. Yet none of us is perfect. There is no faultless way to raise a child, no model parent and no foolproof way to avoid the pitfalls. It took Lilly and David a little while to work this out, but once they began adhering to the principle of speaking the truth in love, they let go of the idea of perfection and focused instead on simply enjoying the ride.

God only ever speaks to us in love, even when He is reprimanding us, and if we try to do the same with our own children, we cannot go far wrong.

Please join me for Goldie’s story in my next book. I would love to welcome you as a reader again.

Blessings,

Elisabeth

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

—Ephesians 4:32

For my daughter, Alys

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

“Astrid, will you please come here this minute. If I have to ask again, you’ll be grounded until Sunday.”

Lilly Olsen rushed around her living room, plumping the cushions, straightening the throws and arranging the magazines into piles. She hated to return from work to a messy home, so she tried to make life easier by keeping on top of things. Juggling her job as bank clerk with parenting a wayward fifteen-year-old daughter was difficult enough already.

“Astrid,” she shouted, feeling her patience wear thinner than ever. “It’s eight fifteen. You’ll be late for school and I’ll be late for work.” She muttered under her breath, “Again.”

“Okay, Mom, you don’t have to yell. Why do you always have to yell?”

Astrid appeared in the hallway of their one-story home, wearing head-to-toe black clothing, topped off with a velvet beret. She was apparently now going through a goth phase. This came on the heels of a skater phase and a Japanese cartoon phase. She was clearly struggling to establish her identity, and Lilly had learned to pick her battles carefully.

“You can take off that black lipstick in the car,” she said, choosing to ignore the rest of the outfit. “I have some wipes in the glove box.”

Astrid flounced past her. “You’re such a killjoy.”

“Yes, I am,” Lilly said, retrieving her keys from a hook on the wall. “And that’s a good use of the word killjoy, by the way. You have a great vocabulary when you choose to use it.”

Her daughter groaned and sighed, picking up her school backpack from the hallway floor and opening the front door. As if the day was set against her, a fine mist of rain was falling. Lilly’s perfectly straightened, fine blond hair would now frizz up in seconds.

“Well, let’s go,” Astrid said with an eye roll. “You were the one desperate to leave.”

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady,” Lilly said sharply, sounding horribly like her own mother. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. Did I do something wrong?”

“Um, let me think,” Astrid said. “First of all, you gave me a totally stupid name.”

Lilly was aghast. “Astrid is a beautiful Scandinavian name. You should be proud of your Swedish heritage.”

“Second of all,” her daughter said, beginning to check the numbers off on her hand. “It’s my sixteenth birthday soon and you haven’t organized a thing. You know I want a party.”

Lilly pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know, I know. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” She ushered Astrid through the door and beeped her car to unlock it. “I’ve been so busy dealing with a very important client at work that it slipped my mind.”

“And third of all,” Astrid said, following her mom down the path, clomping in her heavy black shoes. “I wanted Dad to come visit for my birthday, but you drive him away all the time with your snarky attitude.”

Lilly stopped dead, turned around slowly and looked her daughter straight in the eye.

“Is that why you’re acting up?” she asked. “Are you upset because your father never comes to see you?”

Astrid avoided her gaze and rubbed an arm self-consciously. “It’s been two years, Mom. I barely remember what he looks like.”

“And you think I’m the one keeping him away?”

“Yes.”

Lilly tried to keep her anger in check. She was the one who had cared for Astrid since babyhood, the one who had borne all of the financial burden and was the sole parent barely coping with the emotional roller coaster of teenage emotions. Lilly’s ex-boyfriend, Rylan, had been her high school sweetheart and had reacted badly when she became pregnant at the age of eighteen. She’d wanted to do the right thing and get married, but he was adamantly against it. Instead, he’d abandoned her, gradually lessening contact until finally moving away from their small hometown of Oakmont, Pennsylvania, when Astrid was only four years old. He now lived in California, and Astrid was fortunate if she received a Christmas card or a rushed phone call telling her that she had another new baby brother or sister. Astrid had a total of five half siblings, born from three of Rylan’s many girlfriends over the last ten years.

“Your father loves you, honey,” Lilly said. “It’s just that he has a hard time showing it. I promise that I’ll try my very best to get him to come visit. I would never keep him away from you. Never.”

Astrid stomped to the car and sat in the passenger seat, scowling. At five feet nine inches tall, she cut a willowy and elegant figure when dressed nicely, but in this macabre and imposing outfit, she appeared intimidating. Lilly wished they were as close as they used to be, when Astrid would offer to plait her mom’s hair or paint her nails. In the last year, her daughter had grown into a young woman that Lilly mostly didn’t recognize.

“Hi, Mr. Peters,” she said, noticing her elderly neighbor walk past with his dog on a leash. “I’m sorry for the Wednesday Addams vibe you must be feeling from Astrid this morning. She’s having some trouble finding her place in the world.”

Mr. Peters smiled. “She’s a beautiful soul, Lilly. And she shines brightly just like her mom.”

“You’re too kind,” she said, walking to her car, the compliment lightening her step. “Thank you.”

Astrid was peering intently through the windshield when Lilly settled herself behind the wheel of her compact car. “The guy in that van has been watching our house all morning,” Astrid said. “Do you know him?”

Lilly looked at the dark gray van parked across the street, the kind of vehicle often used by utility companies. The man in the driver’s seat was immobile, staring straight ahead, wearing sunglasses despite the overcast day.

“I’m sure he’s not watching the house,” Lilly said, fixing her cell phone into its holder on the dash. “He’s probably repairing some damage to power lines or something. There was quite a wind last night.”

“I’m telling you,” Astrid insisted, as Lilly pulled from the driveway onto their leafy suburban street. “He’s been there since six thirty. I thought he was waiting to give someone a ride, but he’s been watching us like a hawk. It’s creepy.”

“How can you get up at six thirty and not be ready by eight fifteen?”

Astrid clicked her tongue. “It takes a long time to look this fabulous.”

“That reminds me,” Lilly said, leaning across to open the glove box. “Take off that lipstick.”

Astrid huffed and pulled out the pack of wipes from inside. “Look!” she said, turning around. “The creepy guy is following us.”

Lilly glanced into the rearview mirror. The van was on their tail, driving too close for comfort.

“It’s just a coincidence,” she said, quashing her fears. “He’s probably just going in the same direction.”

Astrid dragged a wipe across her mouth. “I don’t like it. It’s making me nervous.”

Lilly’s phone began to buzz in its holder and the name flashing on the display was Kevin Lovell, her boss at the bank where she worked in Oakmont.

“I gotta take this,” she said to Astrid. “But don’t worry about the van, okay?”

Eyeing the clock, she punched the answer button and put her cell on speakerphone.

“Hi, Kevin,” she said. “I might be a little late this morning.” She avoided looking at Astrid. “My usual routine didn’t go to plan.”

Kevin’s voice was bright and breezy, totally out of character for her usually grumpy boss.

“Don’t worry about it, Lilly. If you’re still at home, then stay there and don’t come into work today. And lock your doors.”

“What? Why? I’m on the road already.”

“Mom!” Astrid’s voice was high-pitched. “That van has gotten even closer. I’m scared.”

Lilly touched her daughter’s knee. “Hold on, honey. Just give me a minute.”

“We have a serious situation here at the bank today,” Kevin continued. “A couple of agents from the FBI visited a few minutes ago, expecting you to have started work already. They’re on their way to your house, so turn around and go home to wait for them. They should be with you soon.”

“I have to drop Astrid at school,” she said. “Why do I have to go home? What’s going on?”

Kevin was silent for a moment. “The agents said you’re in danger.”

Lilly exchanged a worried glance with Astrid as her daughter grabbed for her hand. She approached a junction and turned left, intending to double back and return home. She didn’t know what was going on, but Kevin’s words were chilling.

“Mom, the van is following us,” Astrid said, beginning to cry. “He’s definitely following us.”

A different man’s voice was now on the speakerphone, a deeper one.

“Ma’am, this is Agent David McQueen from the FBI. I’m patched into this call in my vehicle. Did I hear someone say you’re being followed?”

“You’re from the FBI?” Why would the FBI be patched into her call? “We think a van is on our tail. What’s happening?”

“There’s no time to explain the situation right now,” the agent continued. “I’m already in the vicinity, en route to your home. Where are you exactly?”

“I’m on Harewood Avenue, approaching the junction to Filton Road. I’m going back home.”

“No!” Agent McQueen’s raised tone caused them both to jump. “Stay in your vehicle, keep driving in that general area, don’t stop and don’t panic. I’ll be there in five minutes. I’ll find you.”

Lilly struggled to keep up with the changing pace of the day. Just a few moments ago, she was arguing with her daughter about lipstick. Now an FBI agent was coming to save them from a danger that she had had no idea existed until now.

“Who is in the van?” she asked.

“I’ll be there soon. Remain calm.”

“How can I remain calm?” Astrid was squeezing her hand so tight that both their knuckles were white. “I have my daughter with me and she’s scared out of her mind.” She kissed Astrid’s fingers and briefly looked over at her. “I’ll keep you safe, honey. I promise.”

But then the van on their tail revved its engine hard and lurched forward, touching Lilly’s bumper. The car skipped, Astrid screamed and Lilly gripped the wheel with both hands to steady their path.

“Mom! Please do something,” Astrid yelled. “Make him stop.”

Lilly floored the accelerator and tore around the corner of Filton Road, the car’s back end skidding away slightly on the wet asphalt.

“What’s going on there?” the agent said, still on speakerphone.

“We’re being rammed off the road.”

“Take evasive maneuvers,” he said. “Do whatever it takes.”

“I’m trying,” she shouted as the van hurtled toward them once again. Thinking fast, she swerved onto the wrong side of the road. Fortunately, this residential street was always quiet, and she faced no oncoming traffic.

The van was now alongside them and she noticed the driver’s gloved hand sharply yank the wheel. He was intending to ram them from the side.

“Hold on, Astrid!” Lilly yelled.

The crunch of metal seemed to sound forever as the van sideswiped her car, pushing it onto the sidewalk, toward the thick trees that grew there.

“Mom,” Astrid cried, now beside herself with fear. “I don’t want to die.”

“Nobody’s gonna die, sweetheart. Not today.”

She slowed right down to let her assailant pass and then attempted a hand brake turn. But she messed it up and the car ended up sitting awkwardly in the road, straddling both lanes. Meanwhile, the guy in the van was clearly a much more accomplished driver and spun easily on the asphalt, tires squealing and billowing smoke.

Lilly’s hand shook as she put the stick in reverse, desperately trying to turn the car around before the van would reach them. But she messed that up too and couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the strike. The driver’s side of her car bore the brunt of the impact from the hurtling van. Lilly was jolted sideways with huge force, her head banging on Astrid’s shoulder. All she could think about was protecting her daughter. This man was crazy. He wanted them dead.

When the car finally stopped shaking, Lilly leaned across her daughter and opened the passenger door.

“Run, Astrid,” she yelled. “Run.”

Astrid could barely speak through her hyperventilating. “Mom, no, no, I can’t leave you.”

“Please, honey,” Lilly pleaded, seeing the man exit his vehicle and walk toward them. “You gotta go now. Run to Mr. Peter’s house and don’t look back.”

Yet Astrid seemed frozen, unable to move, unable to do anything except cry out in anguish. Lilly turned to see her assailant move calmly and steadily toward them, gun in hand. The hood on his sweatshirt was pulled up and, with his head slightly bowed, his appearance reminded her of the grim reaper.

“Please don’t hurt my daughter,” she shouted through the shattered window. “I’ll give you whatever you want.” She grabbed her expensive cell from the dash, a gift from her parents. “You can take this. It’s worth over a thousand dollars.” As his hand reached up and removed his sunglasses, she forced herself to look him in the eye. “Please.”

That’s when she recognized him. “Mr. Berger?” she said, confused. “Why are you doing this?”

This man was her important client at the bank. He had visited in person the previous day, wishing to transfer his bank accounts overseas before returning to his native country of France. She had handled the paperwork, shaken his hand, chatted to him about his family. Why did he now want to kill her?

Mr. Berger pointed his gun at her window, and with the sound of Astrid’s screams resounding in the car, a bullet cracked the air.

Agent David McQueen heard the unmistakable bang of a gun being discharged as he raced to the intersection of Harewood and Filton. The car was being driven by his FBI partner, Goldie Simmons, and she had wasted no time in rushing them to the scene with the siren blaring. Through his phone’s speaker he had been listening to the screams and cries, but they had abruptly stopped. He prayed they weren’t too late.

Goldie tore around the corner of Filton and instantly slammed on the brakes to avoid colliding with a blue compact car blocking the street, a gray van stopped behind it.

“That’s our guy,” David said, seeing a hooded man in the road, weapon in hand. “That’s gotta be Henderson.”

He jumped from the car, identifying himself as an FBI agent and ordering the man to lie on the ground. As expected, the suspect turned and fled back to his van without allowing David the chance to get a good look at his face. This guy had been successfully evading arrest for more than ten years and David had a very old score to settle.

“You’re not getting away this time,” he muttered, pulling out his gun and aiming at the van’s tires.

“Help! Help! I think my mom’s been shot.”

A young girl of no more than sixteen suddenly flung herself from the blue compact and ran toward him, arms flailing, her long black trench coat flapping in the wind. She reminded him a little of his own daughter, Chloe.

David couldn’t risk shooting now. He reholstered his weapon and called out to Goldie in the car.

“Stay on Henderson’s tail,” he said, watching the vehicle race toward the busy road out of town. “You’ll have to get to the freeway via Harewood but do what it takes to find the van again. Don’t lose him.”

“You got it.”

As Goldie turned the car and screeched away, David put his hand on the girl’s shoulder to comfort her. “Is your mom Lilly Olsen?”

“Yes.”

He approached the car and bent to survey the scene inside, bracing for the sight of blood, but instead he saw an apparently uninjured blond woman with a flat palm on her forehead, breathing heavily in the driver’s seat. In the other hand she clutched a cell phone, her fingers trembling around the black casing.

“Are you hurt, ma’am? Your daughter said you’d been shot.”

She held up the cell phone, her face etched with an expression of pained shock.

“It saved me,” she said. “I was holding it in front of my face.”

The cell was all smashed up, a bullet lodged in the metal, creating a small hollow as though a tiny volcano had erupted in the center.

Then she seemed to gather her thoughts and remember what was important. “Astrid! Is she all right?”

“She’s fine, ma’am. She’s right here.”

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

David unclipped the radio from his belt. “I’ll request a police car to take us to your home. There’s a lot of explaining to do.”

David stood and watched Lilly Olsen comfort her daughter in the living room of their home, stroking her hair and holding her hand. The teenager had understandably reacted with shock and distress after their terrifying ordeal, but after twenty minutes of soothing, David was beginning to lose patience. As a father of two grown girls, he had plenty of experience as a parent, and he felt that Lilly was treating Astrid with too much mollycoddling. If anyone knew where that would lead, it was David.

“Miss Olsen,” he said. “I appreciate the fact that your daughter needs you, but we have important matters to discuss here.”

She ignored him for a few seconds, continuing to stroke her daughter’s hair while sitting on the couch. Then she turned to him. “I realize that you’re here to help us, but my daughter always comes first, so give me a minute or two, okay?”

David gritted his teeth and glanced exasperatedly at Goldie, who had returned from her chase empty-handed. The van had gotten away, and that meant Lilly remained in grave danger.

“You’re safe here, honey,” Lilly repeated to Astrid. “And nothing bad will happen now.”

David stopped himself from interrupting and contradicting her. It was dangerous to tell teenagers that nothing bad happens in life. It was better to tell them that the world was a cruel place and to give them strong boundaries to mitigate the risk.

Astrid rose from the couch. “I’m going to call Noah and tell him why I’m not in school today.”

“No phone calls,” David said. “Not until I say so.”

Lilly rose also and smoothed down her shirt. “She just wants to make a quick call. There’s no harm in that, surely?”

“I said no phone calls.”

“You can’t stop me calling whoever I like,” Astrid challenged. “I’m not in jail.”

“No, you’re not in jail,” David said slowly, reminded of the arguments he used to have with Chloe, the big bust-ups that would result in her storming from the house and spending the evening with her totally unsuitable boyfriend. “But I need you to listen to me and do what I say.”

“Who put you in charge of me?” the teenager said, sliding her eyes from David’s to her mother’s, correctly identifying the weakest link in this scenario. “Mom, can I call Noah?” Her bottom lip wobbled, and she rubbed one eye like a tired toddler. “I just want to tell him I’m all right.”

Lilly nodded. “Sure, but don’t give him any details about what happened today. Tell him you’re not in school because you’re sick. Okay?”

Astrid glared at David with a hint of triumph before strutting from the room, and his hackles rose. Disobedience was something he could no longer abide in young adults. As a widowed single dad raising two girls, he’d made the mistake of believing that you could reason with teenagers, that you could give them some freedom and be prepared to compromise. But that was before Chloe ended up in a car wreck with her drunk boyfriend and suffered irreversible brain damage as a result. Prior to the accident, she had gone off the rails, become totally unmanageable, and David blamed himself for her downfall. If only he had set stronger rules when she was younger. If only he’d come down harder. And now Lilly Olsen was making the same mistake.

“Teenagers need a firm hand, ma’am,” he said. “Trust me, I know. You shouldn’t let your daughter get away with manipulating you.”

Lilly’s brows crinkled beneath her sleek blond fringe. “Manipulating me? Is that what you think she’s doing?”

“Yes, I do. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

She held up a palm. “Excuse me, Agent... What was your name again?”

“Agent McQueen, but you can call me David.”

“Okay, David,” she said with a false smile. “You literally just met me, and you know nothing about me, or my daughter, so can I suggest that you mind your own business and focus on the man who just tried to kill me.”

David rubbed a hand down his face as Lilly’s clear blue eyes bored into his. With her arms crossed and her head slightly tilted, her previously soft features now took on a harder tinge. Her criticism was undoubtedly fair. He had lost concentration, thinking back to times when his own daughter had emotionally manipulated him, just like Astrid had with her mom. At that moment, there was a bigger issue to tackle.

“I apologize,” he said, sitting on the couch. “You’re right. Let’s get to work.” He pulled a photograph from a file that he had placed on the coffee table. “Was this the man who attacked you?”

She responded instantly. “Yes, his name is François Berger. He’s a wealthy art collector, originally from France but living in Pittsburgh for the last twenty-five years. I’ve been speaking regularly with him on the phone for the past couple weeks and he finally came into the bank yesterday to transfer his money to a European account. He’s moving back to Paris next week.” She touched the photo. “He seemed so nice when I spoke with him. Why would he try to kill me?”

David placed the photo back into the file. “His real name is Gilbert Henderson and he’s a con man, born and raised right here in Pennsylvania.”

“No, that’s not possible. This guy has a French accent.”

“It’s fake. Everything about Gilbert Henderson is fake. We’ve been trying to catch him for more than ten years, but I gotta give him respect where respect is due. He’s cunning, he’s smart and he’s always one step ahead of us.”

“So where is the real François Berger?”

“Dead.”

Lilly gasped. “How?”

“We found him in his chest freezer, probably been there a while. We’re doing an autopsy to establish the cause of death, but it looks like a bullet to the head.”

Lilly clearly struggled to make sense of this. “But... What... Why?”

“Gilbert Henderson targets wealthy individuals with little or no family,” he explained. “He chooses somebody with the same age and characteristics as himself. He then murders them and assumes their identity, before setting out to empty their bank accounts and strip their assets. He does this so quickly and professionally that by the time we’re alerted to the crime, he’s long gone. And so is the money.”

“But I transferred Mr. Berger’s money to a legitimate bank in France. They’ll have procedures to deal with fraud so you can recover it.”

David smiled at her naïveté. “Once the money reached the French account, it was moved again and again via very complex channels. It’s now been funneled into countries where we have no financial jurisdiction.”

“Everything was in order,” she said, her eyes scanning the carpet, perhaps wondering how she could have prevented this crime. “He gave me all the right identification documents and said all the right things. I didn’t suspect a thing.”

“Don’t blame yourself. This is probably the fifth time Henderson has gotten away with this type of fraud. We almost caught him this time when a cleaner reported finding Mr. Berger’s body in the freezer yesterday and we suspected Henderson was the culprit. But we were just a few hours too late. The apartment has been stripped of the expensive artwork and all of Mr. Berger’s accounts are empty.”

“If you know this guy’s identity, why not just arrest him?”

“We have no evidence to arrest him.”

“What? You must have evidence?”

“You are the only evidence we have.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Henderson is careful to avoid security cameras, he doesn’t leave a trace of himself behind and he leaves no witnesses.” David realized that he needed to correct his words. “Actually, that’s not true. He can’t avoid creating one witness per crime, and that’s the bank clerk who performs the money transfers. He deliberately chooses banks where the staff won’t have met his victim and he’ll then interact with just one person during the entire transaction.”

“I thought it was a little strange that he didn’t go to our bigger branch in Pittsburgh,” Lilly said. “But he said he was spending some time with friends in Oakmont and preferred the friendly service of our small-town office.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I was actually flattered by the compliment.”

“Con men are usually incredibly charming. It’s why they’re so good at manipulating people.”

Lilly was obviously beginning to understand the gravity of her situation. “You’re saying I’m the only person who saw his face while he committed this crime?”

“Correct.”

“What about the documents he gave me? I took copies of his passport and driver’s license as part of the background checks.”

“Those documents belong to the real Mr. Berger, so they’re no use to us.”

Lilly was wide-eyed and unbelieving. “Really? I checked them thoroughly and the photographs matched the person.”

“Henderson only ever selects victims who already bear a strong resemblance to him, and he’ll change his hair, wear contacts and false teeth if necessary. None of the bank clerks have spotted the lie so far.”

“What happened to them?” she asked, her voice suddenly shaky. “To the other clerks who were duped like me?”

David glanced at Goldie, reluctant to answer truthfully. He didn’t want to scare Lilly even more than she was already and, sensing his hesitancy, Goldie stepped into the silence, speaking softly and with concern.

“The other four clerks were all found dead the day after the crimes. We weren’t able to save them in time, but we can help you now. We won’t allow any harm to come to you. With your witness testimony, we have enough evidence to finally issue a warrant for the arrest of Gilbert Henderson. We just need to find him first.”

“Before he finds me,” Lilly said. “Because if I’m dead, then he walks free, right?”

“Right,” said Goldie. “But that’s why we’re here. We won’t let him find you.”

The color had drained from Lilly’s face, and David gently patted her hand, which was cold and clammy. “As soon as Henderson is in custody, you’ll be safe. He’s worked alone ever since his accomplice was murdered ten years ago, so he’s the only threat we need to neutralize.”

“What happens now?” she asked him. “Do I have to go into witness protection?”

“Yes, just for a short while.”

She put her head in her hands. “What about Astrid?”

“Can she stay with relatives until you return home?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Lilly said. “Astrid saw this man’s face when he attacked us today. Won’t that make her a target too?”

David caught sight of his partner’s stony expression. This was a complication that neither of them had anticipated, and Goldie led David by the arm into the kitchen.

“Astrid is a witness to attempted murder,” Goldie whispered. “She saw Henderson’s face during the gun attack and that puts her in the firing line. He’ll want her eliminated too. You know he never leaves a loose thread.”

The last thing David wanted to do was look after a teenage girl, especially one who would undoubtedly push all his buttons and remind him of his most serious failures as a father. But what choice did he have? Astrid was now in as much danger as her mother.

Lilly appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Astrid has to come with me,” she said. “I won’t go without her.”

David noticed that a bruise was appearing on Lilly’s forehead. “I agree. Can you both pack some things? Enough for a week to start off.”

“Astrid’s not going to be happy,” she replied. “She’ll kick against it, but please try to understand that she’s only fifteen. She’s a child.”

Chloe had been only a couple of years older than Astrid when the car in which she’d been traveling slammed into a tree and damaged her young brain. She had been just seventeen when forced to learn to walk and talk again, to use a knife and fork, to regret not listening to her father.

“Astrid may be a child,” David said. “But she can follow orders and do what I ask. I’d like your support in ensuring she complies with my rules.”

He saw Lilly’s jaw clench, her nostrils flare. This clearly wasn’t going to be easy.

“I’m Astrid’s mother, and I’ll make the decisions on what rules she follows.”

David took a deep breath. “From what I’ve seen of the interactions between the two of you so far, it doesn’t appear that your daughter respects your authority.”

“Of course she does,” Lilly retorted.

“No, she doesn’t. She’s willful, disobedient and challenging, and I need her to understand that I don’t tolerate backchat, not when your lives are in my hands.”

Lilly blinked fast, her dark lashes moving so quickly that he almost expected to feel a breeze.

“You don’t have kids, do you, David?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am, I do—two daughters, both now in their twenties. Sarah is a lawyer in Philadelphia and Chloe currently lives in Penn Hills.”

Lilly’s expression was one of surprise. “And did you demand total obedience from them, as well?”

I wish I had, thought David. Maybe Chloe would now be a doctor like she planned, instead of residing in an assisted living complex.

“Let’s stick to the current situation here,” he said, sidestepping the question. “Go talk with Astrid, pack your bags and we’ll discuss details afterward.”

Lilly stalked from the kitchen, but not before he heard her mutter under her breath, “Control freak.”

David leaned against the kitchen counter. He’d rather be accused of being a control freak than a weak parent. And no matter how hard he tried to understand her reasoning, Lilly was a weak parent, allowing Astrid the freedom to dress like a ghoul, speak like a brat and get her own way.

In order to keep them both alive, he would have to insist that Lilly follow his parenting rules from now on. No exceptions.

TWO

“No way,” Astrid said, removing her neatly folded clothes from the suitcase and placing them back in the drawer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Lilly sat on her daughter’s bed. Despite Astrid’s insistence on being grown-up and independent, her bed was filled with her childhood teddies. Lilly picked up a white fluffy bear, Astrid’s favorite stuffed toy. She had always called him, simply, White Bear.

“I’m not asking you to do this, I’m telling you,” Lilly said, still stinging from Agent McQueen’s criticism that Astrid didn’t respect her authority. That just wasn’t true, at least not all the time. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Mom, this is crazy. People only go into witness protection programs in the movies. We live in boring Oakmont, remember?”

Lilly wondered how Astrid could have forgotten her terrifying ordeal so quickly. That morning’s school run was anything but boring.

“Somebody tried to hurt us today,” she said. “I mean really hurt us. And you have to admit you were scared.”

Astrid swallowed and Lilly saw the fear momentarily return. “Yeah, I was scared, but we’re okay now, and the guy was probably high on drugs or something.”

“I already explained this to you, honey,” Lilly said. “He deliberately targeted me because of something bad that happened at the bank, and he’ll come back. We need to leave town until he’s caught, and then we’ll be able to come home.”

“How long will it take?”

“I don’t know, but we should take enough clothes for a week.”

“A week? Seriously? It’s Kaitlyn’s sixteenth birthday party on Saturday night. I can’t miss that. And what about school?”

Lilly stroked the soft fur on White Bear. “I know this is hard, but we have to make sacrifices. Our safety is more important than a birthday party or missing a week of school.”

Astrid flopped on the bed next to her mother. “Are you sure that this FBI guy isn’t exaggerating? He seems kinda repressed, like he’s full of trapped gas or something.”

Lilly couldn’t help but laugh at this fitting description of Agent David McQueen. It was then that she noticed him standing at the slightly open door, listening to their conversation, his head cocked to the side as if amused. Or annoyed. When her gaze met his, he held it for a few seconds, saying nothing.

She tried to imagine this buttoned-up man parenting two daughters, but couldn’t envisage him playing with toys or reading books, especially while wearing his dark suit and tie. Given that his children were now adults, she guessed that his age would be somewhere in the midforties, a good ten years her senior, yet he could pass for a much younger man. With a full head of curly brown hair, smooth tanned skin and a neatly trimmed beard, he was attractive without being too polished or high-maintenance. He had an outdoorsy look that was most definitely Lilly’s type. Not that it mattered anyway—romance was a thing of the past for her, and her sole focus was placed on raising her daughter.

“May I come into your room, Astrid?” David asked, knocking on the door. “I promise to keep my trapped gas where it is.”

Astrid sat upright and shifted closer to Lilly. She clearly wasn’t comfortable with the burly FBI agent who had invaded her home.

“Sure,” she said, with affected nonchalance. “Whatever.”

He entered the room, surveying the mixture of teenage music posters and babyhood relics. He also couldn’t fail to notice the colossal mess on the floor. Shoes, purses, belts and makeup palettes were strewn across the carpet, and his expression didn’t hide his disapproval.

“I wanted to let you know that we’ve managed to secure a safe house for the coming week,” he said. “Goldie and I will escort you there and remain with you until Gilbert Henderson is in custody.”

“Do you have any leads on him?” Lilly asked, desperately hoping that he might have been captured already by a patrol unit.

“We found the stolen van abandoned in a Pittsburgh parking lot, and we’ve got detectives reviewing the security footage of the stores in the area to see if we can track his movements. He’ll crop up on the radar sooner or later, I’m sure of it.”

Remembering David’s description of this guy as both cunning and smart, Lilly wasn’t so sure.

“Why can’t we stay here?” Astrid said, picking at chipped nail polish. “You could stay here too and then when this guy comes back, you arrest him.” She put her palms up in the air. “Mission complete.”

“It’s not that easy,” David replied. “This house has too many points of entry and it’s a single-story home, surrounded by lots of dark hiding places. I’m not comfortable protecting you here.” He checked his watch. “I’d like to be gone in one hour. Do you think you could have a suitcase ready by then?”

“So that’s it?” Astrid said, rising to stand and fold her arms. “You get to make all the decisions about where and when we go?”

“Yes.”

Astrid looked at Lilly imploringly. “Mom,” she whined. “I don’t want to go.”

“You have two options,” David said. “You come with me or you place yourself in serious danger. Do you really want to do that?”

Lilly stood between David and Astrid. “That’s enough talk of danger,” she said, rebuking the FBI agent. “Astrid and I will be ready in an hour.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “Okay?”

“There’s just one more thing,” he said. “We’ll be trying to blend in, to look as normal as possible. We don’t want to attract any attention when we go outside.”

Lilly wasn’t sure what he was getting at. “And?”

“And Astrid sticks out like a sore thumb in that gloomy costume she’s wearing. She needs to change clothes and wear something more suitable. Might I suggest jeans and a sweatshirt?”

“Gloomy costume?” Astrid said with incredulity. “You’re so old and stupid. You don’t know anything about being cool.”

“Astrid!” Lilly said sharply. “That’s enough.”

David smiled. “I admit that I don’t know anything about being cool, but I know a lot about witness protection, and you cannot wear those type of clothes if you want to fade into the crowd.”

“I expect you want me to wear a pretty dress with flowers and bows, right?” Astrid said sarcastically. “Like your own daughters probably did.”

Lilly saw a sudden change come over him, a sadness clouding his eyes, and she knew that Astrid had hit a raw nerve.

“This is getting a little out of hand,” she said, taking hold of David’s arm and leading him to the door. “Astrid, please pack your suitcase and change clothes. You can wear black jeans and your hooded sweatshirt.”

“And black lipstick?” Astrid said hopefully.

“Yes, black lipstick too,” Lilly replied, feeling too drained to argue on this small point. “Be ready in an hour.”

With that, she steered David out of the room and clicked the door closed behind her, instantly hearing rock music playing on Astrid’s speaker.

“You shouldn’t give in to her like that,” David said. “She needs to follow strict instructions.”

“Oh, come on,” Lilly shot back, her mood darkening. “Do you really think that a little black lipstick is going to attract a huge amount of attention?”

“It’s not just the lipstick. It’s a slippery slope. Once you give in to one small demand, it soon snowballs into much bigger things. And if you lose control of her, it’ll be impossible to get it back.”

Lilly breathed slowly in though her nose and out through her mouth. “I know you have an important job to do, and it’s understandable that you want Astrid to play by the rules, but she’s just a kid. You can’t poke fun at her clothes like that and expect her to respect you. She has thoughts and feelings just like you, so quit being so hard on her, okay?”

He seemed to think long and hard about Lilly’s reprimand. “I’m sorry, but I’m only saying these things for your own benefit. I don’t want you to make the same mistake as I did.”

“What mistake?”

He briefly closed his eyes. “It’s nothing.” He turned to walk down the hallway. “I’ll wait in the living room while you pack a suitcase.”

Lilly watched him stride away and pondered the words that he had left unsaid.

David kept a close eye on the street outside while Lilly brushed her daughter’s hair in the hallway and tied it up in a ponytail. With her bright blond strands and olive-toned skin, Astrid really was a carbon copy of her mother. Both tall and rangy, they possessed a Viking quality, women who were undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with. Lilly was clearly strong-minded and raising a strong-minded daughter, but she had so much to learn about teens. Astrid was already pushing her boundaries, perhaps even going off the rails, and Lilly’s response was to compromise. One thing you should never do with an errant teenager is compromise.

Goldie was performing one last security check of the house, ensuring that the sensor alarms were working correctly. These sensors would give them a warning of unauthorized entry. If Henderson came looking for Lilly and Astrid here, the silent alarm would trigger an immediate police response.

His cell phone buzzed, and he slipped it from his pocket to look at the display, smiling on seeing Chloe’s name.

“Hi,” he said, hitting the answer button. “How are things in Penn Hills today?”

“Good.” She sounded happy, and he was pleased. “The sun is shining.”

“Listen, Chloe, I’m glad you called because I have to go away for a week with work, so I won’t be able to come see you for a while, okay?”

“Sure, Dad. I’m fine with that. I don’t need to see you every day, you know. I’m a grown woman now.”

“I know.” He found it impossible to cut Chloe’s apron strings. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“I wanted to tell you that I had a job interview early this morning, and it went really well. I think I’ll get it.”

“A job interview? Really? Why didn’t you tell me? Where is it?”

“Whoa,” she said. “One question at a time, Dad.”

He deliberately slowed down, remembering that Chloe needed time to process information.

“Okay,” he said. “What job is it?”

“An assistant at the local grocery store,” she said, with an obvious smile. “It’s a nice place and the staff are friendly and the manager said I could take extra time to learn the shelf-stocking system if I need to.”

“That’s great, honey, really great,” he said, feeling disappointment sink deep down into his belly. “I’m proud of you.”

Before the accident, Chloe had been expected to graduate top of her class, and the medical profession was her passion. At the age of twenty-one, she should have been a doctor in training, not hoping to stock shelves at a grocery store.

“If I manage to hold down this job, then I might be allowed to move out of my assisted living apartment and rent a regular place with my friends. That would be really cool, right?”

“Yes, it would,” he said. “I’ll say a prayer for you tonight.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll call back soon. I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

He hung up the phone, his stomach a twist of knots. He should have been pleased that Chloe was on the cusp of regaining full independence, preparing to move out of the apartment where a qualified nurse was on hand in case she needed it. Her rehabilitation had been arduous, but she’d made good progress and had regained full use of her body. Yet her brain could only recover up to a point and had lost its ability to think quickly, to retain information and to learn complex things. It pained David to accept that he should carry the burden of blame. If only he hadn’t allowed her to go out with her boyfriend that night. If only he’d realized that she was making bad choices. If only he hadn’t given her the benefit of the doubt. The words if only tormented him.

“Hey.” Lilly was standing next to him, wearing a pastel blue sweat suit that was almost the same color as her eyes. “Are you all right? You’re miles away.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He pocketed the phone. “Are you guys ready? Goldie is just doing the final checks.”

“We’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Lilly replied, glancing down the hall at Astrid, who was swiping her finger down her phone. “It’s crazy to think we’ll be prisoners in a strange place for a while. I can’t quite get my head around it.”

“You won’t be prisoners. You’ll be in protective custody.”

She gave him a thin smile. “It kind of sounds like the same thing to me.”

“Not really. Prisoners have a strict routine and they’re confined to a small cell for most of the day.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Boy, you really are a stickler, aren’t you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been called worse.”

She put an index finger on her lips, as if recalling a fact. “I know. I seem to remember somebody calling you old and stupid recently.”

He laughed.

“I’m sorry about that,” Lilly said. “Astrid sometimes lashes out when she’s afraid or unsure. She doesn’t mean any harm. Do you think you could cut her some slack?”

“I’ll try,” he said, knowing that he would struggle to do so. “She can call me as many names as she likes, but you know how I feel about following rules.”

“Yes, I do. Even though I only met you a few hours ago, I feel like I understand you perfectly.”

He wasn’t sure whether this was a good or bad thing. “And how are you holding up, Lilly?”

Moisture collected in her eyes and she took a sharp intake of breath. “I keep thinking about how close I came to death this morning. What would Astrid do without me? Who would look after her? It’s terrifying to think about what might happen.”

He heard a quiver in her voice and realized that she was trembling, so he put both hands on her shoulders to comfort her.

“You’ll get through this, I promise.”

“I don’t want Astrid to see me scared,” she whispered, leaning into him, wafting a perfume of spiced vanilla. “Can you distract her for a couple minutes while I compose myself?”

He gave one shoulder a squeeze and left her side.

“Hi, Astrid,” he said, picking up her suitcase in the hallway. “You look nice.”

She rolled her eyes. “I look like a norm.”

“A norm?”

“A norm is a normal person. A person like you.”

“Oh, right.” This was awkward. “Thanks for the compliment.”

She tugged at the sweatshirt. “I hate this stuff. I’m just glad that my friends can’t see me right now. I mean, who wears sneakers unless they’re running?”

At that moment, Astrid reminded him so much of Chloe at the same age, obsessed with her image and the judgment of others. He had tried to placate his daughter at the time, tell her it didn’t matter what her friends might think, offer her an alternative viewpoint. He wasn’t going down that road again.

“Plenty of people wear sneakers,” he said. “That’s the whole point. You need to look like everyone else, so I want to see you in sneakers all the time, okay?”

She put one hand on a jutted-out hip. “Don’t you ever get tired of being right?”

“Not usually.”

Astrid’s gaze slid past his, toward the open door of the living room, and landed on her mother.

“Is Mom okay?” she asked. “She looks nervous.”

“She’s doing fine.” Lilly obviously had an astute appreciation of the danger they were facing, whereas Astrid had somehow managed to overlook the fact that a gunman fired a shot at them this morning. “She’s just worried about you.”

Astrid’s expression softened. “Mom worries all the time, about lots of things. She worries about my grades and my confidence and my friends and my future. She never seems to worry about herself.”

“That’s the life of a parent, Astrid,” he said. “Your mother’s job is to make sure you’re safe and secure all the time. Nobody in the world will ever love you like your parents.”

Her softened expression now became hard again, eyes narrowing and lips pinching. “What do you know?” she said, turning her back on him. “You’re no expert.”

While David stood in bewilderment, wondering what on earth he’d said to provoke such a reaction, Goldie came in through the front door and closed it behind her.

“I’ve scoped out the street and the car,” she said. “It’s all clear.”

She then clearly noticed Astrid leaning against the wall, stone-faced and silent, arms wrapped round her waist. The older woman immediately enveloped the teenager in a hug and whispered some words of comfort, assuming she was anxious about the risky situation. Goldie was a tough cookie on the outside but loving and warm inside, a trait that had come in handy numerous times when dealing with nervous clients, and David was thankful for it now.

While Astrid was being soothed by Goldie, he approached Lilly.

“I think I upset Astrid,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m not what sure what I said, but Goldie’s with her now so she’s doing fine.”

“Did you mention her father?”

“Ah.” Now it became clearer. “Not exactly, but I might have implied that both her parents love her.”

Lilly lightly brushed his arm. “It’s not your fault. It’s a touchy subject. Astrid’s father hasn’t seen her in over two years and it upsets her that he doesn’t even try to make contact. She blames me for it. I wish I could make Rylan see what a beautiful daughter he has, but he never seems to listen.”

David shook his head. How could a father sleep at night without checking that his little girl was secure and safe? How could a man be so weak and selfish? He felt a new level of respect for Lilly for stepping up and attempting to provide the stability that her daughter badly needed.

“It’s tough being a single parent, huh?” he said.

She rubbed her temples over the silky blond strands. “The toughest job in the world. Are you speaking from experience?”

“My wife, Carla, died fifteen years ago, when our daughters were only six and ten years old. I raised them alone.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lilly said with sincerity. “That must’ve been hard on all of you.”

“It was,” he said, reminded of the dark days that had followed the loss of his wife, of the constant fear that he would not be able to fill a mother’s shoes. “It’s not easy being both mom and dad. There’s nobody to pass the baton to when you’re at the end of your rope.”

“I hear you.”

He dropped his voice. “Teenagers can be especially rebellious, and that’s when being a single parent really tests your character. You have to stand firm and be the boss.”

“Is that what you did?”

“That’s what I should’ve done.” The regrets never stopped tumbling through his mind. “And I just wanted to give you the benefit of my parenting experience.”

“Thank you,” she said, skirting past him. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

But he knew she wouldn’t. As she went to her daughter and hugged her tenderly, he saw that she was a parent who would struggle to implement the tough love approach. Astrid could pout and cry and get away with doing whatever she wanted, even if it meant going to a party with her drunk and reckless boyfriend. Just one small decision could wreak untold consequences.

And Lilly had no idea of the terrible choices that a teenage mind could make.

“We’re leaving now,” Lilly said, removing one of her daughter’s earbuds. “You need to turn off your music and keep your wits about you.”

David held out his hand. “And I have to confiscate your cell phone until further notice. I want all devices which emit a signal.”

“What?” Astrid’s mouth dropped open as she turned to Lilly. “Really?”

“No arguments, Astrid,” Lilly said, slipping the cell from her daughter’s jeans pocket, unplugging the earphones and handing it to the agent. She then unzipped Astrid’s backpack and took out her iPad. “You can have them back later.”

David took both devices in his hands. “I never said that.”

“But it’s important to her,” Lilly protested. “Teenagers live their whole lives on social media, you must know that.”

“Phone signals are easy to track, even when they’re not connected to the internet. If Astrid wants to log into Smartchat, she can use one of our specially encrypted devices.”

Astrid burst out laughing. “What is Smartchat? Is that like Snapchat for old people?”

He ignored the ridicule. “I’d rather you didn’t log into any online accounts for the next few days, but if you really feel that it’s necessary, then you can look but not interact.”

“I can’t post anything?”

“Certainly not. No comments, no messages and absolutely no selfies.” He put the phone and iPad into a drawer of the hallway dresser. “We’ll leave these here until you get back.”

“How will I keep in touch with Noah?”

“You can’t,” David said. “I need a promise from you that you’ll contact nobody while we’re in the safe house. You’re under my rules now.”

Lilly began to bristle with irritation. Astrid was her daughter and her responsibility, and David should have let her relay all this information, rather than lay down the law himself. It was very clear that this FBI agent didn’t rate her parenting skills very highly, and she found herself feeling undermined by his intrusive behavior.

“Make the promise, Astrid,” she said, trying to wrest back control. “It’s only for a little while.”

Astrid groaned. “I promise.”

“Okay,” David said. “Let’s go.”

Lilly noticed her daughter’s face become ashen as they approached the open front door, where Goldie stood, waiting to escort them to the car.

“We’ll be okay, won’t we, Mom?” Astrid asked. “This crazy guy wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and hurt us while we’ve got two bodyguards, would he?”

Lilly wasn’t sure whether to tell the truth—that she simply had no idea—but she decided that a small lie was the best approach.

“He wouldn’t be that stupid, honey,” she said, putting an arm around Astrid. “We’re in the hands of trained experts here.”

“You’re clear to get in the car,” Goldie said, as they stepped out into the cool and breezy afternoon. “Both in the back seat, please.”

The day had now taken on a new hue, one of danger and malice. The scenery beyond Lilly’s home was exactly the same as before, but the neat suburban houses and leafy trees now hid something sinister and strange. This world no longer felt like hers. It was alien somehow, and she wasn’t enjoying the sensation. Somebody had invaded her haven of peace and contentment.

Goldie opened the back door of the black SUV in the driveway and Astrid climbed inside, murmuring appreciatively at the plush upholstery and gadget-laden dash. They were unused to luxury in their daily lives.

“Lilly, Lilly, wait up.” She looked up sharply to see Mr. Peters hurrying around the fence that divided their front yards. He was carrying a brown box, saying, “I have something for you.”

Goldie and David immediately switched to high alert, placing their hands on their weapons and scanning the area.

David rushed to her side. “Who is this man?”

“It’s my neighbor, John Peters. I’ve known him for thirteen years.”

David quickly pulled out his badge and held it out front, keeping Mr. Peters at arm’s length. “Sir, can I ask you to remain where you are and state your business?”

Mr. Peters appeared puzzled to be met with such a command. “Um... I have a package for Lilly.” He peered at the badge. “Are you from the FBI?”

“Put the package on the ground,” David ordered, pocketing the badge and drawing his gun but keeping the barrel pointed down.

Mr. Peters obviously wasn’t sure how to react. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “The delivery guy said he couldn’t get an answer from Lilly’s house so I signed for the package on her behalf.” He looked between Lilly and David. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“I told you to put the package on the ground,” David repeated, louder this time. “Now.”

Mr. Peters reacted in an instant, placing the box on the ground as if it were suddenly red-hot.

“Now step away from it,” David said. “Where did the delivery guy go after you signed for this package? Did he have a vehicle?”

“I didn’t check, but he was wearing a uniform and he had a clipboard. He looked very official.”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry but I didn’t think to take notice.” By now Mr. Peters appeared genuinely afraid, concerned that he might have inadvertently done something wrong. “The label on the box says it contains drapes and cushions.”

David glanced at Lilly. “Did you order home furnishings?”

She racked her brain to recall any recent online purchases. “I don’t think so.”

“Get Astrid out of the car.” David said, before turning to Goldie. “We need to get them back in the house and call the bomb squad.”

Fear flooded Lilly’s body. “You think it’s a bomb?”

“We have to take every precaution,” he replied. “It might be nothing, but let’s be cautious.”

Astrid slid from the car and stared at the cardboard box on the driveway, its beige, boring exterior seemingly innocuous.

“It’s just a package,” she said, walking toward it. “Why are you guys so worked up about a cardboard box?”

“No, Astrid,” David called. “Stay away from it and go back inside.”

Lilly grabbed hold of Astrid’s sleeve. “Come on, honey, let’s do what he says.”

Astrid shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re all terrified of some drapes and cushions. Mom probably ordered them and forgot.”

But then the box began to beep, slow at first but quickly building, like an alarm clock working its way up to a crescendo.

“Go, Go, Go!” David yelled, pushing Lilly and Astrid toward the house. “Everybody clear the area.”

Lilly clutched Astrid’s hand and ran to her front door, stumbling over the threshold and falling into the hallway. She just managed to pull her daughter into an embrace when a flash of light burned her eyes. The sound of the explosion came a split second later.

And then there was silence.

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