MARKED FOR MURDER

When photos of Stephanie O’Brien are found in a serial killer’s home, she must face the horrible truth that she’s the next intended victim. She has nowhere to hide, nowhere to run—except to K-9 cop Rick Powell. As her self-appointed bodyguard, Rick will do anything to protect the innocent teacher—even keep his attraction at bay. He’s known loss; he won’t lose Stephanie. But the killer seems to anticipate their every move. And Rick fears he’s never faced an opponent so cunning. One who won’t stop till he has his victim right where he wants her…six feet under.

Everyone was in danger because of her.

Stephanie scanned the crowd, assessing the damage. The blast had destroyed their hotel suite and the surrounding rooms. Paramedics worked on a number of people. But it could have been worse.

She turned to Rick. “When we were running, I kept wondering why it took so long for the bomb to detonate.” Nothing the serial killer was doing made any sense to her. There had been so many opportunities for him to kill her already. Why did he keep letting her live?

“Maybe the bomb was just a message,” Rick replied. “He’s telling us that when he is ready to do it, he’s going to do it his way.”

“By it, you mean kill me.”

“That’s not going to happen, Stephanie.” He reached for her hand. “You can’t let him get inside your head. Otherwise he accomplished exactly what he set out to do.”

He was right, but as she looked across the street, a man standing there pulled her attention. Hadn’t the police evacuated the area? Instead of looking at the spectacle around the hotel, he was staring at her. He raised a hand in a wave, and Stephanie’s insides turned to ice.

There he was. Her would-be killer.

BECKY AVELLAgrew up in Washington State with her nose in a book and her imagination in the clouds. These days she spends her time dreaming up heart-pounding fiction full of romance and faith. Becky married a real-life hero and follows him around begging him to give her material she can use in her stories. Together with their children, they make their home in the beautiful Northwest.

Targeted

Becky Avella

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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A man’s heart deviseth his way:

but the Lord directeth his steps.

—Proverbs 16:9

To Pat, my hero and my happily ever after.

We both know this book wouldn’t exist without you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Saturday

“Seattle Police, K-9 Unit. Announce yourself.” Officer Rick Powell’s voice boomed through the open door. “If you do not announce yourself, we will send in the dog. If you surrender now, you will not be harmed!”

Rick kept the leash taut and his hand steady on his K-9 partner’s back. The dog’s training held him still, but Rick knew the Belgian Malinois wanted to go, his muscles quivering to be set free to work again. Only absolute devotion to Rick held the dog back.

Kneeling beside him, Rick crooned the German command for stay and stroked the fur along Axle’s back. I understand, buddy. I’m ready to work, too.

The city block surrounding the early-twentieth-century brick town house had been cordoned off. SWAT team members were poised for action, waiting for the signal that would allow them to penetrate the building, too eager to capture the killer inside to mind the pouring rain running down their stoic faces. Intel indicated the suspect was home and hiding. If their information was correct, then he would soon be calling prison home. Rick believed it was more than he deserved, and it was about time.

“Ready?” Sergeant Terrell Watkins asked Rick.

“Very,” Rick answered.

Terrell was Rick’s supervisor, but the two had been friends for a long time. It was Rick’s first day back on regular duty after an extensive medical leave, and Terrell knew better than any of the others around him how important it was to Rick to be back in the field.

Rick nodded his head in the direction of a wiry man pacing the sidewalk behind the two of them. “But maybe not quite as ready as Shelton is to get this guy.”

Terrell’s gaze followed where Rick pointed and chuckled. “No kidding.”

Detective Gary Shelton deserved the credit for cracking this case. Three unsolved and particularly gruesome murders had terrified the city of Seattle for over a year. It was Shelton who had finally identified Julian Hale as the man responsible for the deaths of those women. And it was Julian Hale whom they believed was hiding inside this town house now.

Investigating the killings had consumed the detective’s life, and bringing Hale to justice had become Shelton’s personal mission. They were so close to making that happen. Rick leaned forward, anxious to serve this warrant. He hoped that capturing Hale would allow Shelton some much-earned peace.

Rick called his warning into the house once again, his voice even louder and deeper. “You are surrounded. Announce yourself now.”

Axle squirmed, his tail thumping on the doorjamb. The dog knew it was go time.

Stroking Axle’s fur, Rick’s fingers brushed across the healed scar running along the dog’s side. Rick had similar scars across his own abdomen. A quick flood of panic raced through his body. Were they both ready to face what was about to go down? Don’t go there. This is a new start, no wallowing in the past.

“This is your last chance to surrender.” Rick’s warning echoed into the house, answered only by silence. He unclasped Axle’s leash, but kept his hand firm on the dog’s back, containing him. Axle’s tail thumped harder and faster. No answer came. No one exited the building.

No more chances.

Axle’s muscles quivered in anticipation. Rick might have doubts, but Axle didn’t. The dog whined as if to say, “Let me go!”

Pride for Axle pushed away the panic. After a confrontation with human traffickers had left both Axle and Rick near death, the dog had defied all the odds and all of the claims that he would never recover. It was only their first day back, but Rick knew that Axle was stronger than ever and more than capable of doing what was needed. He drew strength from Axle and raised his hand, shouting the command to search. “Reveire!”

That one word ignited the built-up energy within Axle’s body, propelling the dog forward off his haunches. He disappeared into the house as the men outside waited for barking to alert them to the hidden suspect’s location. After several moments of silence, they couldn’t wait any longer. The SWAT commander’s signal sent Rick and the rest of the Metro team crashing into the house with weapons raised.

The baritone shouts of “Police!” and the urgent calls of “Go, go, go!” harmonized with the high crystal notes of shattering glass, all of it fueling Rick’s adrenaline. He caught sight of Axle and trailed after the dog through the chaos, tuning his ears for the sound of barks. Come on, Axle, show me where the bad guy is hiding.

Between the men and the dog, the systematic search of the small town house didn’t last long. Shout after shout of “Clear!” filled Rick with more disappointment. His sense of justice cried to see this man in handcuffs. Julian Hale had to be in here somewhere.

Rick followed Axle up the stairs to a landing, where he spotted a pull-down attic entrance in the ceiling. He lowered the trapdoor, revealing a wooden staircase. Could Hale be hiding in the attic? Rick trained his gun on the stairs and called out his standard warning one more time. He gave Hale no longer than a heartbeat to comply, then shouted the command to go ahead: “Axle, geh voraus!”

Rick envied the dog’s unwavering bravery. Without a second of hesitation, Axle shot up the stairs, eager for a new area to search as if he couldn’t remember the stabbing they had both lived through. Rick remembered clearly the streetlights flickering off the slashing blade, the sight of Axle airborne, latching his teeth into the man wielding the knife, the feel of pain so searing Rick hadn’t been able to believe it was his own. It would all be forever embedded in his memory.

But Axle was right. Those memories had nothing to do with the job at hand. There was a serial killer loose. Getting Julian Hale behind bars before he hurt someone again was the only thing Rick should be thinking about. Axle was relying on his training, and appeared as unwilling to admit defeat as his human coworkers. Taking the dog’s lead, Rick shook away the bad memories clouding his mind and focused.

He crouched low, taking the stairs much slower than Axle had done. Although he was convinced by this point that Hale probably wasn’t up there, he wasn’t taking any chances. He bent and entered the attic space gun first, his eyes fighting to adjust in the dim light coming from a window in the sloped ceiling. The gray drizzle outside made it even darker, but soon his eyes were able to make out the layout of the room.

The attic had been remodeled from its original intended storage space. Two overstuffed chairs and a small love seat were arranged into a conversational sitting space in the center of the room, and a small home office area with bookshelves lined the far wall.

Instead of evoking the cozy feeling it looked as though it should, the room triggered Rick’s internal radar. After seven years of law enforcement, he had encountered enough evil to be able to sense when something just wasn’t right. Axle’s whine confirmed that feeling sending goose bumps popping up along Rick’s arm.

Inching his way around the room, Rick searched every nook or possible hiding place. His jaw clenched. The room was clear. How had Hale gotten away?

He joined Axle by the desk. Rick fumbled with the lamp until he found the switch, illuminating the desk and the wall behind it. Dread settled into his stomach as heavy as if he had swallowed cement.

Two bulletin boards hung on the wall. On the left board there were six photographs stapled in a three-by-two grid. In the second row, Rick recognized the photographs of the three women he already knew Hale had killed. But the upper three photographs were of unfamiliar faces. Were they also victims? Was it possible detectives had missed Hale’s connection to other murders? Somehow he knew all of these women were dead. His breathing slowed as he stared at the six pictures. Thinking about the young lives represented in them made the air around him almost too heavy to breathe.

His gaze moved to the second board. White three-by-five cards, small photographs and highlighted spreadsheets were stapled across the outside edges of the board, creating a homemade flowchart, but it was the eight-by-ten photograph in the center that concerned him the most.

Rick studied the girl-next-door beauty smiling back at him from the picture. He noted her heart-shaped face and her long strawberry-blond curls. It was a simple photograph, exactly the type of blue-background portrait that schoolkids brought home each year, or the type that schoolteachers had taken for their staff photo. The innocence of it screamed at him. This picture did not belong in the house of a killer.

He spoke into his radio. “Attic’s clear, and Sarge?” He swallowed, hating to be the bearer of such bad news, but if anyone could help this woman right now, it was Terrell Watkins. “Sarge, you need to get up here and see this.”

His eyes traveled back to the photo. She must be Hale’s next victim. Rick groaned. She was out there somewhere in the city, unprotected and unaware that she was standing in the crosshairs of a psychopath.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst part was, Rick knew her.

* * *

A car in the distance backfired, causing Stephanie O’Brien to drop her keys. She scooped them up and stomped the rest of the way past the playground’s graffiti-decorated retaining wall to the front doors of Lincoln Elementary School.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like her to be so jumpy, but about halfway through her trek to the school she had begun to feel as if someone were following her. But every time she peered over her shoulder, she didn’t see anyone behind her other than a few bustling people who seemed a lot more concerned with getting out of the freezing rain than with causing her any trouble.

You traveled alone to Africa and back three times before your twenty-fifth birthday, and now you’re afraid of walking a few blocks to school? She had hoped that common sense would drive away the uneasiness, but it hadn’t. Stephanie pulled her arms in tight to her body and tried to talk herself out of the anxiety creeping up her spine and into her imagination.

To get to the elementary school where she taught fifth grade, Stephanie walked through familiar neighborhoods full of run-down houses that begged for fresh paint and small apartment buildings with rusted metal swing sets in their play areas. Properties and cars were locked behind six-foot-tall chain-link fences, and overgrown, neglected rhododendron bushes commandeered the sidewalk, forcing Stephanie to step into the street if she wanted to pass. Garbage blown out of Dumpsters lay damp along the edges of the buildings and the fences.

The area was a bit rough around the edges, but until today, it had never felt dangerous to her. In fact, these neighborhoods bordered the neighborhood where she lived. Stephanie didn’t own a car, so it was routine to trudge back and forth between home and work through this area. It was also common for her to be working in her classroom over the weekend to prepare for the school week ahead. She looked over her shoulder again. This wasn’t different from any other trip to school, so why did it feel so different?

Tiny droplets from the hood of her raincoat dripped onto her cold nose, reminding her she needed to shake off this silliness and get inside before she drowned. Real Seattleites might be too cool for umbrellas, but at the moment Stephanie would gladly look like a tourist if it meant being dry. It was May for goodness’ sake; shouldn’t it be warmer?

She glanced over her shoulder one final time before she let herself into the dark building and typed in the security code. The door shut with a bang and a click as it locked behind her. Other than the squeak of her wet tennis shoes on the waxed tile floor, the hallway stretched into silent darkness.

She flipped on the light in her classroom and locked the door behind her. She threw her keys on her desk and shimmied out of her wet coat. She cranked up her stereo extra loud. The music and the light drove away the eeriness as Stephanie sat down and grabbed the stack of work waiting for her.

Settling into her chair, Stephanie spread open her lesson plan book and lifted the photo she kept paper-clipped to the inside cover. In the picture she held Moses, the sweet, chubby toddler who had stolen her heart the last time she had visited her younger sister, Emily, in Liberia. Moses’s round black face looked straight into the camera, his smile wide, while the photograph captured Stephanie’s profile as she stared adoringly at the little boy on her hip. Stephanie’s heart lurched with longing as she relived the moment in her mind now.

After her third trip to visit her sister and brother-in-law in West Africa, Stephanie had physically boarded the plane for home, but she had left her heart behind in the red African dirt. Her life now revolved around figuring out how to get back there as a full-time missionary, but the process wasn’t going well at all. She didn’t have the money to sustain herself without being a burden to Emily and Ty, and with their first baby on the way, they didn’t need to take care of her as well on the meager salary they received from an international missions board.

Stephanie swiped her finger across the picture of Moses’s face. I miss you, baby boy. I wonder how big you’ve gotten this year. She needed to ask Emily for a more recent picture. She clipped the photo to the book where it belonged, sighed and settled in to do the work in front of her.

An hour passed before the sound of jingling keys in the hallway jerked her attention away from the stack of essays she was reading. The doorknob to her classroom turned. Was a janitor working today? They didn’t usually work this late on weekends, but who else would have a master key? Maybe Jim Mendoza, the principal?

Stephanie bit the inside of her cheek. Who was it? Reaching behind her, she fished her cell phone out of the pocket of her wet coat hanging on the back of her desk chair. She glanced at the phone and then tossed it on the stack of papers in front of her. She had forgotten to charge the battery again. Her stomach knotted as she waited for whoever it was behind the door to enter.

“Who’s there?” she called.

The door swung open, and a pallid face peeked around it. His washed-out blue eyes widened. “It’s just me.”

She released all the air she’d been holding as she realized it was the IT guy who had been helping her install all of the new technology she had received from a grant she had won for her classroom. He dropped in unannounced all the time, but this was the first time he had come on a weekend.

Stephanie lowered the stapler in her hand. She must have grabbed it without realizing it before the door opened. Her cheeks burned. She hoped he hadn’t noticed the threatening way she had held it. What good would a stapler have done her if it truly had been an emergency?

Her laugh sounded forced and flat in her own ears. “You scared me.”

The blond man stood on the classroom door’s threshold, his tool bag in hand. He stood perfectly erect, unblinking.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

“Did you need anything?”

He pointed at a stack of shipping boxes she hadn’t noticed sitting near the front whiteboard. “I thought I would get a head start setting those up for you so you can use them on Monday,” he said.

After she won the grant, boxes like these had slowly trickled into her classroom. It felt like Christmas every time a new one arrived. She eyed a large flat box and hoped that the smart board she was looking forward to using was inside it.

Stephanie nibbled on her lower lip, not liking being alone with a man she didn’t know well, but she was unsure of what to say or do that wouldn’t come across as rude. “Um, sure, I’ll just get out of your way, then.”

“Thank you, Stephanie.”

It was probably nothing more than the overactive imagination she had been combating all day, but something about the way he pronounced her name sent a shiver scampering up her spine. She gathered up her lesson plan book and the stack of essays and moved to the opposite corner from where he stood in the doorway.

“You’re welcome, Julian. Let me know if you need anything.”

She walked to the round worktable, but before she sat, movement outside startled her.

“Rick?” She cocked her head, confused.

Why was Terrell’s friend Rick Powell out there? She gasped. Rick wasn’t just standing at the window; his gun was pointing directly at her through the glass.

TWO

Rick’s spirits had lifted when he rounded the corner of the school building and saw the glow of artificial light coming from the fourth classroom down the wall. He had hoped he would simply have to knock on Stephanie’s classroom window and all of this would be behind them. But once he peeked into her classroom, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Even through the window’s dirty glass, Rick had recognized Stephanie immediately, but it was the man standing in the doorway behind her, fitting the exact description of Julian Hale, that had caused him to pop back and draw his weapon.

“Freeze!” Rick shouted through the window. He doubted they could hear him clearly, if at all, but he hoped the raised gun made enough of a statement. The glass wouldn’t stop him if he had to shoot.

Rick’s gaze locked on Hale, trying to anticipate his next move. What was Hale going to do? Run? Try to take out Stephanie? Hale was caught, and Rick expected to read surprise or even fear displayed in the other man’s body language. Instead, Hale appeared unfazed by the gun and strangely poised.

Rick needed to get Stephanie out of here and deliver her safely to Terrell Watkins. When they had split up to look for her, Rick had promised Terrell that he would get to her before Hale did. Rick’s gut twisted. He had failed to keep that promise.

Terrell and his wife, Val, viewed Stephanie O’Brien as a member of their family. The three of them had known one another for years, and Rick had run into Stephanie so often at their house, he had finally asked Terrell if she was living with them. To which Terrell had laughed and answered, “Practically.”

But Terrell wasn’t laughing now. Back in the attic, Terrell’s broad shoulders had slumped and deep lines of worry had furrowed his forehead as he tried to reach Stephanie on her cell phone.

“My calls are going straight to voice mail,” Terrell had said, skimming his tightly cropped black hair with his large hand. “That girl never keeps her cell phone charged, and Val hasn’t seen her at all today.”

Rick had hated seeing Terrell so upset. The team counted on their sergeant’s lighthearted personality to ease the tense situations. His jokes had gotten Rick through a lot of heavy spots, but with the roles reversed, Rick hadn’t known what to say. Finding the photograph of one of your closest friends in the attic of a wanted killer wasn’t a light thing.

And now here she was right in front of him. How was he going to get her away from Hale?

Without lowering his gun, Rick reached up and grabbed his mic. “Code 3 assist. I’ve got a visual on the suspect.”

* * *

Stephanie wasn’t sure which of the two men to look to for answers. She turned back and forth between Rick at the window and Julian in the doorway until it dawned on her. Rick’s gun wasn’t aimed at her; his target was Julian, and Stephanie was in the way.

She dropped to her stomach, scattering the papers she held in her arms, and scooted toward the window on her belly. Was that the right thing to do? She wished she could read Rick’s mind. Right or wrong, she had to put distance between her and the doorway where Julian still stood.

“Stop moving, Stephanie,” Julian’s icy voice instructed her.

She froze midcrawl. “Why are the police here, Julian? What have you done?”

Although he spoke to her, his eyes stayed on the window and Rick’s gun. “I suspect the officer is here not only because of what I’ve already done, but because he knows what I’m planning to do next.”

From her vantage point on the ground, Stephanie looked up and studied Julian’s face. A slow, small smile spread, then flickered out, leaving the flat, emotionless affect he always wore. She had noticed his oddities before—his formal speech, erect posture and unwavering calm. She had written them off as nothing more than a social awkwardness from a man who spent all of his time working with computers instead of people. Now she found the same mannerisms cold and calculating.

What are you planning to do?

Fear amplified the flow of blood behind her ears as it raced adrenaline through her body. Her heartbeat paralleled the ticking of the old clock in the front of the classroom. The minute hand kept bouncing into place, marking how long Stephanie lay on the ground waiting for something to happen.

Julian didn’t say any more; his eyes remained locked on Rick. She waited for Rick’s gun to shatter the glass, but that didn’t happen, either. She remained motionless on her stomach, stuck in the middle of a standoff with no idea what she should do next.

The distant sound of approaching sirens hit her ears. From the sound of it, a lot of law enforcement was about to descend on this place, yet Julian seemed unperturbed by it all. Maybe she could stall him until they arrived.

“What are you planning to do, Julian?” she asked him.

His soulless eyes turned her direction, making her shiver from the coldness she saw in them. “You will have to wait and see, Stephanie. I promise you will know soon enough.” Then he bolted from the doorway and disappeared down the dark hallway.

Hammering hit the window above her. Stephanie peered through her lifted arm and watched the old window splinter from the force of Rick’s nightstick. Stephanie moved to stand up as Rick raked out the remaining glass, but she fell back down flat again when a large dog flew through the broken window. Stephanie screamed and covered her head.

Rick climbed in the window. “The dog won’t hurt you,” he reassured her. “Axle, sitz!” he commanded, and the dog froze and sat at attention.

“Did you see which way Hale ran?” Rick asked her.

“I don’t know. Right, I think?”

Rick spoke into his radio. “Suspect is running toward the front of the school. I won’t be able to intercept. Have incoming units set up a perimeter.”

Rick squatted beside her. “Are you okay, Stephanie?”

She wanted to yell, Scared to death, how do you think I’m feeling? But the concern in his eyes stopped her. “Fine,” she told him.

Rick offered Stephanie a hand up, steadying her as she wobbled to her feet. She had been around Rick many times at Val and Terrell’s house, but she had never been this close to him. She blushed. The skip in her heartbeat could not be blamed on fear.

“Hale may be hiding in the building. We need to get you to a safer location.” Rick let go of her arms and walked to the window. “Can you crawl out with me?”

Stephanie followed him through the window and accepted his outstretched hand on the other side. He guided her to the ground, and the dog leaped through behind them.

“Keep low and stay close behind me. We’re going to move along the building to minimize visibility. Understand?”

“Visibility?” she asked him. “Does Julian have a gun?”

Was Julian really that dangerous? She shuddered, thinking of all of the times she had been alone with him in her classroom. What was he capable of doing?

“He’s more worried about avoiding capture than he is with hurting you now, but I don’t gamble. Stay low.”

Rick’s long legs covered ground much faster than Stephanie’s shorter legs could manage. She jogged behind him trying to keep up. When they rounded the building, Rick called to her over his shoulder, “The cavalry has arrived.”

Patrol car after patrol car surrounded them, filling the parking lot. The flashing lights and number of arriving vehicles mesmerized her. People in a variety of uniforms and suits piled out of their cars, sprinting in different directions.

All of this for Julian? A typical criminal would not invite this intense of a response, would he? She spotted uniforms from Seattle Police Department and King County Sheriff’s Office and read “SWAT” on the back of several officers advancing on the building. She swallowed as her eyes landed on the FBI label on the side of a parked SUV.

Rick placed a warm hand on the small of Stephanie’s back and guided her to the passenger door of a blue patrol car with “K-9” painted on the side.

“Watch your head,” he said.

She backed down onto the passenger seat facing out. Rick kept his hand on the door and knelt in front of her. His nearness and direct gaze made her squirm. “Did Hale hurt you at all?”

She blushed and shook her head. “No. Julian had just arrived. He hadn’t even stepped out of the doorway before you came.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Rick eyes roved across her face, looking as if he thought he would be able to read what he wanted to know written there. But she didn’t have any answers. She didn’t know what he needed her to tell him.

“I don’t know. He said that you knew what he was planning to do next, or that you knew what he had already done, or something like that.” She closed her eyes trying to remember more, anything that would be useful.

“Did he say where he was going? What his plans were specifically?”

“No. I told you, Rick. I don’t know anything. He wasn’t making any sense. When I asked him what he was talking about, all he said was that I would know soon enough, and then he ran down the hall.”

“That’s it? You’re sure you can’t remember anything else? This is important, Stephanie.”

It felt as though he was interrogating her. “I told you everything I can remember. There wasn’t time for anything else.” She looked down into Rick’s upturned face. His expression was hard, his mouth a straight line. She knew he wanted her to give him some clue, but she wanted some answers of her own. “Rick, you need to tell me what is going on.”

He stood up and leaned in close so she could hear his words above the racket. “I need to talk to these guys and then we’ll get out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, turning forward so her feet were in the car. Then the door slammed shut, leaving her alone in the silence to try to sort through all of the activity happening around her. He hadn’t answered her question.

She scanned the bustling crowd outside the car and found Rick’s tall form. He stood side by side with two other Seattle PD officers, each with their arms crossed over their chest, deep in serious conversation. Set in this scene, Rick’s natural presence and rugged good looks made it easy to pretend he was the star of some crime show on prime time. But this was real life, and somehow she was involved in it. How had her quiet afternoon of lesson planning morphed into a TV drama?

Rick’s dog waited at his side. His alert ears and long black snout reminded Stephanie of a German shepherd, but his coloring was a light brown and he seemed too small for a shepherd. Whatever breed he was, Stephanie could read the mutual devotion dog and handler had for each other. This dog didn’t fit the image she had of intimidating and snarling K-9 dogs. This one looked more like an overgrown puppy with his tail in constant wag mode.

For the briefest moment, Rick’s gaze held hers through the windshield. Her stomach tightened, and she held her breath. Time stretched, feeling longer than four heartbeats. What was he thinking? Had they caught Julian?

Rick’s eyes remained fixed on where she sat watching him inside the car. He finished his conversation and walked away from the other officers, his dog jogging along beside him. Finally, he’ll be able to tell me what is going on.

Rick opened the rear door, allowing the dog to jump into the kennel in the back of the car. “Stephanie, meet Axle. Axle, meet Stephanie.”

Stephanie smiled over her shoulder. “Hey, Axle. Nice to meet you.”

Rick climbed into the front seat next to her. Stephanie turned her smile to him. “I’m not sure what all of this is about, but somehow I think I need to thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“My pleasure, Miss O’Brien,” he said in a bad impression of John Wayne. Rick’s smile was wide and genuine, revealing a dimple in his left cheek she hadn’t noticed before.

“Did you catch Julian?” Are you going to tell me who he really is? What you want him for?

Rick’s smile faded. “No, he got away from us for the second time today.” He maneuvered the car out of the parking lot. “Our job’s not done yet. He’s still loose, and he’s still a threat.”

A stab of guilt hit Stephanie. Maybe Rick could have caught Julian if he hadn’t stopped to take care of her first. “I’m sorry I kept you from going after him.”

“No. Don’t be sorry.” He averted his eyes and quietly added, “You have no idea how happy I was to find you safe, and not...”

Stephanie waited for him to fill in that blank, but he let it drop. “Not what?” she probed.

Instead of a direct answer, he started the car’s ignition and said, “I’m under strict orders to deliver you to Terrell. He’ll fill you in on everything when we get to his house.”

Then he winked at her, and his dimple made its second appearance. “Right after he finishes yelling at you for not charging your cell phone.”

THREE

Rick maneuvered around the tricycle blocking the walkway leading up to the Watkinses’ modest blue bungalow. He gestured for Stephanie to climb the steps to the front door ahead of him. Savory aromas wafted out to them like a welcoming committee. Rick’s stomach contracted, begging him to feed it. It had been a long day with no food, and his shift didn’t end for another two hours, and that was only if he didn’t get held for overtime. Rick couldn’t help but hope Val would feed him before he rejoined the search for Hale. Nothing he could make for himself or grab at a drive-through window would compare to her cooking.

Valencia Watkins came from a long line of Latina women famous for their skill in the kitchen. She did not believe a single bachelor could cook well enough to keep himself alive. All six feet five inches of her well-fed African-American husband revealed how Val loved people. She fed them, and one bite of her cooking had forever convinced Rick he would never turn down an offer to eat at her table.

“Mmm. I can smell Val’s cooking all the way out here,” Stephanie said. She gave him a crooked half smile. The urge to do or say something to make that smile reach her eyes, to light up her face as it usually did, hit him hard.

It relieved Rick to deliver Stephanie here. With Hale loose, she wasn’t completely safe, but he couldn’t imagine her being in much danger in this place. This little blue house full of good smells and toys underfoot always felt like a haven to him.

The Watkinses’ six-year-old son, Joash, answered the doorbell. His dark eyes lit up when he saw Rick and Stephanie standing on his front porch. The boy hugged Stephanie, then he turned to Rick and lifted the baseball mitt on his left hand. “It isn’t raining as hard now. Wanna come out and play catch with me?”

“Sorry, Joe. Can’t today, I’m working.” As he ruffled the boy’s black hair, the gesture left him hollow. Although he often ruffled the fur on top of Axle’s head, this time the motion reminded him of someone else.

Allie.

Rick hadn’t allowed himself a conscious thought about his former fiancée in a long time. It was always safer to block memories after she called off their engagement, but every once in a while a stray one like this floated to the surface before he could stop it.

Allie had always been so proud of her glossy dark hair. She would spend hours fixing it with a pile of products and styling tools Rick couldn’t imagine counting. Sometimes he would be a pest and mess up her hair on purpose, but other times it was simply an unconscious show of affection. Regardless of what his intentions might have been, Allie’s response had always been the same: ducking, slapping away his hand and moaning, “Knock it off, Rick, I just fixed my hair.” He figured the rich, ambulance-chasing attorney that Allie had married this past summer never messed up her hair like that. Rick shoved his memories down deep where they belonged and commanded them to stay put, turning his attention back to his friends in the present.

Terrell stood in the doorway and waved them inside while Joash ran through the house announcing their arrival, “Mama! Stephanie and Officer Powell are here!”

Val appeared with her three-year-old daughter, Hadassah, trailing behind her. When Val saw Stephanie, she said, “Stephanie. Thank God you are all right.”

“Hi, Haddie,” Rick said to the little girl. She hid behind her mom, but peeked out around her to grin at him.

Val wrapped Stephanie up into her arms. “I have been so worried about you.”

“Thanks, Val,” Stephanie told her friend. She glanced from Val to Rick to Terrell. “I’m fine. Still a little confused about what’s going on, though.”

Rick winced. He should have told her something during the car ride from the school to the Watkinses’ house. Even if it were glossed over, some information would have helped to put her mind at ease, but no matter how he rehearsed it in his head, the explanation kept sounding something a little like, Hey, Stephanie, you know that serial killer the news has been talking about for the past year. Guess what? That’s Julian Hale. And by the way, I sure like your last staff photo. Hale must have liked it, too, because he has it pinned to his “People to Kill Next” bulletin board.

He had never been known for his eloquence, especially with women. Eventually she had stopped asking, making the rest of the car ride quiet and awkward. He had convinced himself that not answering her was the right thing to do. Terrell and Stephanie had a long history together. He would know best how to tell her.

They all stepped into the living room. Terrell’s raised eyebrows asked Rick behind Stephanie’s back, you didn’t tell her?

Rick shook his head negative.

“Come eat,” Val said. “You, too, Rick,” she instructed. “Everything will seem better on a full stomach.”

Rick’s grinned, “Well, if you insist.”

“I insist,” Val informed him as she ushered Stephanie out of the living room and into the kitchen to help her put the meal on.

“You didn’t tell her anything about Hale yet?” Terrell asked him as soon as Stephanie was out of earshot. When Rick shrugged his shoulders, Terrell rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Didn’t know you were a coward, Powell.”

“Ha!” Rick pointed a finger at Terrell. “You just wish I had gotten it over with so you wouldn’t have to break it to her yourself.”

“Guilty as charged. Hopefully Val is telling her now.” Terrell clapped a large hand on Rick’s shoulder. “Well, you heard the lady. Check out for your lunch break, and let’s get in there and eat.” Then he added, his signature goofy grin back in place, “Like I always say, don’t try to catch a serial killer on an empty stomach.”

“That’s what you always say, huh?” Rick chuckled and then checked out on his radio. He would have thirty minutes to eat before he had to get back to work. He hoped an urgent call wouldn’t come over the radio before he got to taste what he could smell. Lunch break or not, he had to run when certain calls came over the air, even if it meant leaving Val’s amazing cooking behind.

Joash ran into the room and tugged on his arm. “Can I say hi to Axle?”

“If there’s time, I’ll get him out for a bit after we eat, but Axle and I and your dad have some important work to do today.”

Joash beamed and smacked an imaginary ball into the baseball mitt he still wore. “Officer Powell, can I sit next to you at dinner?”

“Sure, bud.” Joash was such a cute kid, with his missing front teeth. Rick had tried to get Joash and Haddie to call him by his first name long ago, but Terrell had put the kibosh on it, insisting the kids remain respectful and use his title. Rick wondered how Stephanie had managed to get them to call her by her first name.

Haddie reached her little arms up to her dad. Terrell swung her up to his shoulder one-handed. Haddie squealed, delighted.

The domestic bliss of this house hit Rick the way it always did: with envy. It was the future he had dreamed of having with Allie, although now that he had moved past the initial pain of their breakup, he could admit there was nothing about this scene that Allie would have wanted. While he had been dreaming of backyard barbecues, T-ball games and ballet recitals, Allie had been dreaming of foreign cars, exotic vacations and a sprawling home in Medina where she could host cocktail parties.

But even if she had wanted this kind of life, the scars on Rick’s stomach reminded him of the danger and demands of his job. Could he blame Allie for walking away? Some guys learned how to be a cop and maintain relationships, but the statistics proved that not many did it well. Terrell Watkins had it figured out, it seemed, but Rick didn’t know the secret.

“Duck your head, baby girl,” Terrell said before he led them through the arched doorway.

Entering the kitchen, Rick’s eyes found Stephanie’s pale face. Her lips were tight, as if she were afraid to breathe. He looked at her hand gripping the countertop, and he knew that she knew.

* * *

Val had wanted to eat before talking, but Stephanie wouldn’t have it. There was no way she was going to sit patiently through a meal pretending that there wasn’t a weighted secret hovering above everyone’s heads. As soon as they were alone in the kitchen, she’d grabbed Val’s arm and demanded to be told the truth.

“All three of you know something you aren’t telling me,” she had insisted. “I’m a big girl, Val. What is going on?”

So Val had held her hand and told her everything she knew about Julian Hale. Now Stephanie wished she could take it back. Maybe she wasn’t such a big girl, after all, because she didn’t want this truth. Stephanie held on to the edge of the counter to steady herself. The solid surface squeezed between her fingers and thumb gave her something real to grasp when everything around her felt dreamlike. Julian Hale is a murderer. I’ve been alone with him many times. He has killed before, and he wants to kill me.

Another question nagged at her subconscious, begging to be answered. Why hasn’t he tried to kill me already? He’s had so many opportunities. Somehow she knew that today had been the day he planned to do it.

Her gut ached as she watched Terrell lifting Haddie off his shoulders. Yes, she wanted to return to Africa and to mission work, but she also dreamed of being married someday. She dreamed of having a family of her own like this one, with kids like Haddie and Joash, and a husband who loved her the way that Terrell loved Val. If Rick Powell hadn’t shown up exactly when he had, Julian could have killed her today. He could have blotted out her future completely.

Then she remembered the worst of it. He is still out there. They haven’t caught him yet. Fear swam through her, blurring her vision.

Val ushered the two kids to the sink to wash their hands for dinner. Stephanie glanced at them, making sure they were out of earshot. “Thank you, Rick,” she squeaked out. “Thank you for finding me in time.” The words were inadequate, but she didn’t know what else to say.

Rick sucked his lips inward and breathed through his nose deeply. His hand curled as if he were fighting the urge to punch something. “You’re welcome, Stephanie. I wish we had caught him so you wouldn’t have to be afraid.”

As their eyes met, Stephanie tried to send her gratitude across the space between them. An unexpected urge to walk right into his arms overcame her. She longed to be held by someone stronger than she was, to have muscular arms wrap around her, making her feel safe again. It was a silly thought, though, and if she acted on it she would look like a fool. Rick was nothing more than an acquaintance. After he ate this meal, he would leave. He would return to his own life and his own problems.

Her throat thickened as loneliness joined her fear. She needed family to turn to, but she didn’t have anyone close enough to help her. She had Val and Terrell, but they had a real family of their own to worry about. Her sister was in Africa, and the last time Stephanie had spoken to her immature and unreliable mother, she was living in Eastern Oregon working at some casino. Stephanie sneered at the thought of calling her. Somehow her mother would find a way to spin Stephanie’s problems into being all about her, anyway. And her father wasn’t an option, either. He had walked out on their family when Stephanie was the same age as Haddie. She couldn’t even remember what he looked like. There was nobody. There never had been.

Stephanie had always taken care of herself and everyone else, as well. Her mom had fallen apart after her dad deserted them, leaving Stephanie to raise her little sister. Stephanie had paid her own way through school and Emily’s Bible college bills, too. She had never expected anyone to take care of her, but nothing she had faced up to this point had felt so big and so completely beyond her own ability to handle.

All of her energy was gone, her arms suddenly too heavy to lift. “I don’t know what to do,” Stephanie admitted. Tears pooled, threatening to fall.

Val’s arm circled her waist. “We’ll figure it out together, honey.” She guided Stephanie into a chair at the table. “And in the meantime, we eat.”

Chairs scraped across the hardwood floor as everyone took a seat, crowding around the small round oak table. Val and Terrell nestled close together, and Haddie and Joash sat beside each of them. Rick scooted his squeaky chair in next to Stephanie, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his leg. The realization of his nearness made heat move through her own body to her cheeks.

She couldn’t count how many times she had been in this house feeling like a third or fifth wheel. That is, unless someone had been playing matchmaker, then of course she would be sitting next to some awkward blind date. But this felt different, comfortable even. If the reason they were here together wasn’t so heavy, she would choose to stay in this moment for a long time.

You are grasping for security, Stephanie O’Brien. You are scared, and Rick saved you today. That’s all this is. Don’t read any more into it than that.

Stephanie wiggled in her chair. Thank goodness no one could read her mind and see her silly fantasy. Rick Powell wasn’t even her type. He couldn’t be. He had a career in Seattle and a purpose to fulfill here. She wasn’t his type, either. If she could stay alive long enough to do it, she was moving to Liberia full-time. Stephanie wanted a life like the one her sister had found when she married Ty and started their mission work together. The right man for her would want that, too.

She caught Rick’s profile in her peripheral vision. His espresso-colored hair was cropped short on the sides, but he kept it a bit longer and messier on top. She liked how his strong square jaw saved him from looking too cute. She had never been a fan of men who looked like catalog models. The skin around his hazel eyes crinkled kindly as he smiled at a story Joash was telling him.

Stephanie sighed. As good as it felt to forget about Julian Hale for a minute and pretend she was here with this attractive man in a uniform, it could never be more than a fun diversion. They were two people on different life tracks.

“Hadassah Grace, it’s your turn to say the blessing,” Terrell told his daughter.

Haddie stuck her fingers in her mouth and shook her head with vigor. “Huh-uh. You pray, Daddy.” She hid her face in her mom’s arm. Stephanie had never seen the spunky girl so bashful. Rick Powell’s presence must be affecting both of them. No one can blame us, Haddie. He is cute.

Terrell grasped Val’s hand on his right and Joash’s hand on his left. Stephanie jumped as Rick’s large hand wrapped around her smaller one. She had forgotten about the Watkins family tradition of holding hands when they prayed. Stephanie relaxed and wrapped her fingers around Rick’s palm, feeling his calluses and his strength. Tears pricked her eyes again as Haddie’s little fingers grasped her other hand. Stephanie was so grateful to be a part of this circle.

“Father, we thank You for the blessing of this food,” Terrell prayed. “We praise You that Stephanie is safe with us, and we pray that You would continue to watch over her and protect her. Grant her peace and the ability to trust You. Equip Rick and me in our work and help us to bring Julian Hale to justice soon.”

Amens circled the table, but Rick did not drop Stephanie’s hand after the last one. Instead, he squeezed it. She met his gaze. His eyes were amazing. If she had to define the color, she would probably call them hazel, but they had a metallic, reflective quality that gave them a silvery glow. She forgot to blink.

“We’ll find him, Stephanie. I won’t stop until we do.”

“Thank you, Rick,” she whispered. Once again she hoped he knew how much that meant to her.

During the rest of the dinner they all tried valiantly to keep the tone light. The kids finished earlier than the adults and were excused to watch a cartoon and eat their dessert in the living room. Joash skated around the kitchen in his socks, while Haddie bobbed with excitement. Val didn’t let them eat outside the kitchen often.

Stephanie had hardly tasted her food. It was difficult to swallow anything with her stomach in so many anxious knots. She tried to decline dessert, but Val set the pie and mug of hot coffee in front of her despite her protests.

“You are an evil temptress,” Stephanie accused her. Val returned a smug smile.

“Hey, you can tempt me all you want,” Terrell informed his wife, patting the empty spot at the table in front of him. “Where’s my pie?”

“I’ll eat yours for you, Stephanie,” Rick teased. He leaned back in his chair and winked. “It’s a dirty job, but...” He shrugged.

Stephanie pulled her pie close and encircled it with her arms. “Back off, Powell. Now that it’s in front of me, it’s all mine.”

The laughter swirled around her, lifting the weight off her chest. Could we all just stay right here, happy and safe like this? But she knew they couldn’t. It was too soon before Terrell and Rick pushed back from the table, their half-hour lunch break long past.

Terrell pulled Val into his arms and kissed her forehead. A pang of jealousy hit Stephanie as it always did when the Watkinses were affectionate in front of her. Terrell and Val fit together; they had always been a perfect match. What would it feel like to be loved like that?

Terrell walked to Stephanie’s chair and squeezed her shoulder. “Until Hale is captured, I think it is a good idea for you to stay here with us,” he told her. “I can drive you over to your place after work to pick up whatever you need.”

“I don’t want to put you guys in danger,” Stephanie protested. “You said Julian has been following me and had a detailed list of all of my activities. I’m sure your address showed up on that chart a few times.”

“It’s a risk we are willing to take,” Val said, her hands on her hips. “You can’t go back to your house alone.”

Stephanie didn’t like the idea, but where else could she go? Should she try to leave town? What about teaching in the morning? Should she show up at her school or take a leave of absence?

Question after question marched across her mind demanding answers, making her head pound. There were so many details to figure out. She would impose on Terrell and Val only as long as it took for her to figure out an alternative plan.

Haddie waddled into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. Stephanie didn’t know a more adorable little girl. Haddie’s creamy brown skin and melted-chocolate eyes came from Val, but the black hair that her parents left all natural came from her daddy. She always wore bows or headbands, but her beautiful hair made a statement all by itself. Haddie was a walking, talking reminder of Stephanie’s dreams for the future. She reminded Stephanie of all of the girls waiting for her in the Liberian orphanages. Stephanie wanted to fill up those hungry little girls until they radiated as much life, love and health as this sweet girl did.

“Mommy,” Haddie said to Val. She crinkled her button nose. “I no like smoke.”

Val scooped her into her lap. “What, baby? Are you sleepy?”

“No, I not sleepy!” Haddie pounded her fists on her thighs. She tried to get her point across again, “I said, I no like...” but if she finished the sentence, it was impossible to hear her tiny voice over the screaming smoke detector.

FOUR

The demanding wails of the fire alarm assaulted Rick’s ears as fingers of smoke slithered into the kitchen along the ceiling. The acrid scent and quickly filling air left no doubt that they were dealing with real fire. One of the chairs crashed backward, but no one bothered to set it back up in their haste to escape.

Haddie plugged her ears, her wails competing in volume with the alarm. “Turn it off, Daddy. Turn it off!”

Rick yelled for help into his radio, hoping dispatch could make sense of his words on their end because he was struggling to hear their responses back to him.

“Go to the alley!” Terrell shouted as he pushed the women and Haddie out the kitchen door into the backyard.

The encroaching smoke drove Rick and Terrell to their knees in search of fresher air. Rick began crawling on all fours toward the living room, but Terrell grabbed his shoulder and hollered, “I’ll get Joash,” Terrell pointed at the back door. “The girls shouldn’t be out there alone.”

Did Hale do this? Rick crawled fast for the back door, wondering if the women were in more danger outside all alone than if they had stayed together. Emerging from the house, he drank in the rain-washed air in greedy gulps, thankful to be free of the choking smoke. His eyes still burned as he ran toward the women and Haddie. Although they looked unharmed, their faces were slack with shock, and the orange glow flickering in their eyes made Rick dread turning around to look for himself.

The little blue house, the sweet haven Rick loved, was reducing to a glowing skeleton before his eyes. Giant tongues of fire licked the roofline, then converged into pillars of flame and black smoke billowing into the late-afternoon sky. Burning bits and pieces of the house floated on the air before landing on wet grass and smoldering out. The fire had already consumed the front half of the house, and the glow from the back windows said the kitchen would be next.

Rick imagined the family photos hanging on the walls. He pictured the kids’ bedrooms and their toys. He saw all of the little things that made Val and Terrell’s house a home. He couldn’t stand the thought of it all burning. This was not right, and if this was Hale’s doing, he would pay for it. Rick would make sure of it.

Rick leaned toward the house, eager to go back for Terrell, but the women beside him needed him, too. He was torn about who needed him the most. Hurry up, Terrell. Get out of there.

The insistent syllables of approaching sirens confirmed the chattering radio in his ear. Responders were almost there. Rick placed a hand on Val’s shoulder and tried to comfort her, “Can you hear that, Val? They’re on their way to help. It’s going to be okay.”

Both Stephanie and Val turned worried eyes to him. Val shifted Haddie to her opposite hip and asked, “But where are Terrell and JoJo? Why aren’t they out here yet?”

“They’re coming,” Rick assured them, hoping he spoke the truth. Stephanie gave him a look behind Val’s back. Her expression and raised eyebrow seemed to silently ask him, are they?

Stephanie took Haddie from Val’s arms. “Sweetie,” she asked the girl, “where was Joash in the house?”

“Him’s sleeping,” Haddie answered and pointed to the house. “On the couch in the libbing room.”

Rick tensed. It was only late afternoon. Being asleep this early in the day did not seem right for the active little boy. Had Joash already succumbed to smoke inhalation? His eyes scanned the house, searching for signs of Terrell and his son. Would he need to go in after them?

Another flame leaped high into the sky, directly above where Haddie last saw Joash. Still Terrell did not appear, but they couldn’t wait in the alleyway any longer. If it was Hale who had set the fire, he could still be nearby, and if he was, the isolated alleyway wasn’t the best place to protect everyone. Setting a fire in broad daylight showed just how bold Hale was willing to be. They had to move even if it meant temporarily abandoning Terrell and Joash.

“We need to get out front,” he told the women. Hopefully the growing crowd of emergency vehicles and curious neighbors would spook Hale enough to keep him far away for the time being. Rick was also concerned about Axle. Rick couldn’t imagine how freaked out the dog must be stuck inside the backseat kennel with all this commotion going on around him.

He ran a few paces down the alley before realizing that Val and Stephanie weren’t following him. “Come on.” But Val stood her ground. She seemed unable to turn from the burning inferno that held her husband and her son.

Stephanie balanced Haddie on her hip, then grabbed Val’s hand and tugged. “Come on, Val. Maybe Terrell and Joash went out the front door. We need to follow Rick.”

Finally, Val relented. They all jogged down the alley to a place where they could safely cut through a neighbor’s backyard, stepping onto the front sidewalk at the same moment that the first of the fire engines arrived. An ambulance parked behind the engine, and then behind that, Terrell ran from the same neighbor’s yard with Joash in his arms. Rick’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“¡Gracias a Dios!” Val cried out, thanking God out loud with every step as she ran to her husband and son. Haddie wiggled out of Stephanie’s arms and joined her family, leaving Rick and Stephanie alone by his patrol car, where they could hear the muffled sounds of Axle’s anxious barks coming through the windows.

Rick opened the kennel in the back, and an agitated Axle flew out onto the sidewalk, running circles around Rick’s legs, unsure of which direction he wanted to go. Rick squatted and pulled Axle in close. He massaged big fistfuls of fur along Axle’s neck, trying to calm the dog with his voice and touch. “You’re okay, buddy. Everything’s okay.” It took extra effort, but once Axle was reassured, Rick was able to turn his focus back to Stephanie. She stared at the burning house, hardly blinking. Creases formed between her eyes. He stood back up, not liking the look on her face.

“Are you okay, Stephanie?”

She didn’t answer him, just hugged her bare arms around her slim waist and shivered. He grabbed a blanket from the trunk and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to go out in the rain without a coat?”

She humored him with a small smile and a quick, absentminded “thanks” for the blanket and returned her attention to the fire.

Given the circumstances, it wasn’t the most relevant or professional thing to be focusing on, but Rick couldn’t help noticing how pretty Stephanie looked. Even after all that she had endured today—crawling through windows, running away from a psychopath, escaping a burning building—Stephanie was still stunning.

It wasn’t the first time Rick had noticed her beauty. He had always thought of her as an attractive girl, but watching her now he was struck by how naturally that beauty came to her. It was effortless. Without a bit of makeup, standing in drizzling rain, she was beautiful. He thought of the photo of her hanging on Hale’s attic wall. He saw again the joy in her eyes and her easy smile. He did not like seeing anxiety dimming that joy.

Without turning her head from the scene in front of her, Stephanie said to him, “This is because of me, isn’t it.” She didn’t say it like a question. She was declaring what she had already decided to be true.

He turned her by the shoulders to face him before he said, “This is not your fault, Stephanie. That is an old house with outdated wiring, and a chimney that probably hasn’t been cleaned in a while. It could have been any number of things that started that fire.” She tried to turn away, but he held her shoulders and made her look him in the eyes. “I mean it. This is not your fault.”

“But look what I’ve brought on my friends,” she said, gesturing toward the house. “They do not deserve this.” The anxiety he had seen on her face hardened into determination. Stephanie looked him in the eyes and said, “I know they will still want me to stay with them. But I can’t. I will not put them in any more danger. Wherever I go, I know that Julian will follow.”

Rick looked down into her determined face, respecting the strength of character he saw there. But he also felt her fine-boned shoulders under his hands, and an urge to protect her surprised him. Years of training and experience told him not to get involved. He had to do whatever he could to keep his professional distance. If he let things get personal, the job would consume him.

Yet here he was, holding a pretty girl by the shoulders, searching her anxious eyes for something he could do or say that would do any good, discovering that as foolish as it may be, he did not want to keep his distance.

He wanted to give her more than a pep talk, but it was all he had at the moment. “Look, you’ve been through a terrible day. Don’t worry about anything until we know more. One thing at a time, okay?”

He left one hand on her shoulder and looked toward the ambulance. Joash wore an oxygen mask and was being loaded into the back of the truck. Terrell sat on the back edge with his own oxygen mask while Val and Haddie climbed inside with Joash.

Watching them, Rick remembered the long hours Terrell had sat by him in the hospital when he was recovering from the stabbing. He remembered how Val had stocked his freezer with ready-to-eat meals, and how they had cared for Axle until Rick was on his feet again. The Watkinses were the best kind of people, the best kind of friends. Now they were facing their own crisis. It was his turn to step up and help them. And he suddenly knew the best thing he could do to help.

“Stay right here,” he told Stephanie. “I need to talk with Terrell.”

* * *

Julian Hale.

Until this afternoon, Stephanie hadn’t known Julian’s last name. In her mind, he had simply been Julian, the IT guy. She had never talked to him much, because he seemed like the kind of guy who was happiest when you got out of his way and left him alone to work. Any small talk she had attempted only seemed to make him uncomfortable, so whenever he was in her classroom, she would leave. She would walk down the hallway to the office to make copies or check her always-overflowing mailbox, anything she could find to burn the time. On the days she had chosen to stay in her classroom, she had purposefully kept the chitchat to a minimum for his sake. She had thought that was what he wanted her to do.

For as little as she knew of him, he apparently knew all about her, though. Every. Detail. Rick and Terrell had told her about the bulletin board in his attic. She shivered at the thought of her school picture stapled up there. Julian probably knew her middle name and her social security number. What other trivial details of her life had he uncovered? Did he know the name of her kindergarten teacher? Or what kind of cereal she liked to eat in the morning?

Stephanie pulled the blanket Rick had given her tighter around her shoulders. What she really wanted to ask was why me? What was it about her that had convinced Julian she deserved to die? She thought she had been kind to him. What had made him hate her so much that he wanted to kill her?

Another patrol car pulled in behind the ambulance where Rick stood talking with Terrell. Terrell had slipped off his own oxygen mask, and the two men kept glancing her way. Stephanie cringed. They are trying to figure out what to do with me.

She hated being a burden. She preferred the caretaker role. It had always been important to her to be strong and independent, not needy and self-centered like her broken mother. This whole situation had slipped out of her control. Somehow she needed to take it back, to take care of herself instead of standing here waiting for Val and Terrell to make everything better for her, or for Rick Powell to feel he had some kind of obligation to become her knight in shining armor.

It looked as though the firefighters were gaining the advantage over the fire. Would the house ever be what it once was? She closed her eyes. Thank you, Lord, that everyone got out okay.

She knew this was her fault. She might not have lit the match, but she did not believe this was an accident. How else would her friends suffer if they continued trying to protect her? What would Julian try next time that could hurt them? Stephanie slipped the blanket off her shoulders, folded it and placed it on the hood of Rick’s car. She wasn’t going to let there be a next time.

By the ambulance, Rick nodded at something Terrell said, and then he turned his body with his back toward her blocking Terrell from her view. Rick leaned in closer, absorbed in their conversation. This was her cue to exit. She could slip away now while Val was preoccupied with the kids and paramedics and Terrell was talking to Rick. She had to do this her own way, but Val and Terrell would stop her if they knew what she planned to do.

Stephanie stopped a passing paramedic. He didn’t look too busy, or in too much of a hurry to get somewhere else, but it still embarrassed her to interrupt him from his work. She couldn’t just disappear, though. Taking off with no explanation would send them all looking for her again. “Excuse me,” she asked him, her voice too squeaky. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Do you happen to have a piece of paper and a pen I could borrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” He pulled a small notepad and pen from the breast pocket on his uniform. Ripping off a sheet of paper, he handed both to her. “Just keep the pen.”

The paramedic walked a few paces away, then turned. “Hey, weren’t you inside the house? Has anyone checked you out yet?”

Stephanie hated lying to him, but she hadn’t been near the fire long enough to inhale any smoke. The longer she stood around chatting, the more her window for slipping away undetected was shrinking.

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for the pen.” She flashed him what she hoped was a confident “I’m just fine” smile. He nodded and left her to fend for herself.

Using Rick’s patrol car hood as a hard surface, Stephanie wrote a quick message:

T and Val—I know you want to help me, but you have enough to deal with right now. Don’t worry about me.

I promise I’ll be smart. Praying for you guys. I’ll check in soon. Love, Stephanie.

And Rick—Thanks again for all your help. I’m pretty sure you literally saved my life today. I’m grateful.

She anchored the paper with Rick’s windshield wiper. When she turned, she saw Axle standing on the sidewalk watching her. He cocked his head, looking curious.

“Take care of them for me, okay, Axle?” The dog wagged his tail.

She didn’t have a plan yet, not even a clue where she should go first. She did know, however, that she could not stick around and allow Julian Hale to harm little Haddie or Joash or their parents any more than he already had done.

It was cold, and it was wet. She had no coat, no money and no cell phone. She had no idea what came next, but Stephanie put one foot in front of the other, determined to lead Julian Hale away from the people she loved.

FIVE

“Are you sure?” Terrell sat on the back edge of the ambulance. His eyes blinked rapidly as he gaped at Rick. “I mean, I’m thankful for your help, but you’ve worked so hard to get back out in the field. It’s been such a long road to recovery. I would never dream of asking you to put that on hold, especially not on your first day back on duty.”

Rick kicked a pebble away with the toe of his boot. He rammed his hands deep into his pockets and fiddled with a challenge coin he always carried. Was he sure? The decision was made—he was going to protect Stephanie and help Terrell and Val. It wasn’t about what he did or did not want to do. This was about the meaning of friendship.

He swallowed down what he wanted. He wanted to be a member of his team again and to be back at work with Axle. Law enforcement was his calling. It ran in his blood. His grandfather, his dad and his uncle were all retired cops. Rick had not been one of those kids who followed in his family’s footsteps because he thought it was what he was supposed to do. Rick had become a cop because it was what he loved to do. The whole first year of work at SPD, he had marveled at the thought, I’m getting paid to do this? Eventually over the years, he had settled into it being demanding work with a lot of sacrifice involved. His failed relationship was proof of that, but through it all there had been a sense that he was doing what he was meant to do. Being injured for so long and cut off from that world had made him feel lost.

Rick cleared his throat. If he thought about this for too long, he might wimp out and take back his offer. “Getting back to work can wait,” he told Terrell. “It shouldn’t take you that long to get your family squared away. Besides, after all that you and Val did for me and Axle, it’s the least I can do.”

It wasn’t the least he could do. It was a huge sacrifice, and Rick knew that Terrell was fully aware of how much it was costing Rick. Terrell stood up from the ambulance and held out his hand to shake. Pulling their grasped hands across his heart, Terrell reeled Rick in for a manly hug, slapping him on the back twice.

“Thank you,” Terrell said before he set Rick free from his solid embrace. “I should only need a week. If you can keep her safe for me until then, I should be able to take over from there.”

Rick nodded. “Not a problem,” he assured Terrell.

Terrell chuckled. “But now you’ve got to tackle the hard part.”

“What’s that?” Rick asked.

“Convincing Stephanie to let you help her.” Terrell shook his head. “I love that girl like my own sister, but she is stubborn and she won’t enjoy being needy. She has been the rock of her family for a long time, and no one has ever looked out for her. Don’t take it personally if she isn’t too keen on the idea of having a bodyguard.”

Val walked over and joined the men, balancing Haddie on her hip. “Hey.” Her eyebrows pinched together as she made eye contact with Rick. “Have you guys seen Stephanie?” she asked. “I can’t find her.”

“Yeah, she’s waiting by my...” Rick pointed at his car, but she wasn’t there. Axle sat on the sidewalk in front of it, but Stephanie was gone. The hairs on the back of his neck raised.

“Axle, hier,” Rick called Axle to come to him. The dog trotted to his side obediently. Rick patted Axle’s saddle area. Axle had been sitting by the car and Stephanie the whole time. If something malicious had happened to Stephanie, he would have alerted Rick. Where was she?

Rick started toward his car with Terrell, Val and Axle following him, but the paramedic called out to Terrell. “Sir, you really need to keep that mask on, and I think we’re ready to transport your son to the hospital.”

Terrell and Val froze. Their dark complexions paled with worry. Both of their gazes flitted between the ambulance and Rick’s patrol car.

Rick put a hand on Terrell’s shoulder. “Go!” he commanded. “This is part of what I just volunteered to do. You take care of your family. I’ll take care of Stephanie.”

* * *

It had taken him two hours to find her, and he was not happy. He wanted to chew her out for being so stupid, but finding her on her knees in the front of the church sanctuary dissolved his anger. Well, it dissolved it a little bit. Seeing her alone and praying tugged at his compassion. He was relieved that she was alive and well and not floating upside down near the Ballard docks as Hale’s other victims had been. But he was still plenty angry with her. What had she been thinking, taking off like that with nothing more than a note to explain? Didn’t her friends deserve better than that?

And why did he care so much? The smart thing would be to leave her right where she was to fend for herself. He had already gone above and beyond what duty dictated. Where had his objectivity gone? Victims had a right to refuse help. But this victim mattered a lot to Val and Terrell, and they mattered too much to Rick to let them down. Like it or not, he was involved for their sake.

Rick crossed his arms and called out down the church aisle, “So are you planning to make me chase you all over this city today, or what?”

Stephanie scrambled up from the front altar and spun to face him. Her body was set to run or fight, and her face was so pale he almost felt guilty for startling her like that. Almost.

He raised his hands and stepped closer so she could see him. “Hey. Calm down. It’s just me.”

Stephanie closed her eyes and relaxed, letting out an audible sigh. Her eyebrows crinkled together. “How’d you find me?”

“The question should be why I had to go looking for you again in the first place. Wasn’t saving you once today enough?”

She squared her shoulders. “Terrell would have insisted that I stay with them.” She crossed her own arms, mirroring Rick’s stance, holding her ground. “They don’t need to babysit me, Rick, and sticking around gave Julian opportunity to hurt them more than he already had. Making everyone mad at me was a small price to pay to keep them all safe.”

He admired her selflessness, but her actions were still foolish. The minute she’d walked away from the crowd, she had allowed herself to be an easy target. He took a step closer to her. “You could have asked me for help. Terrell and I were setting up a plan for your protection.”

“As a favor to Terrell, right?” Her jaw tightened. “I am not your responsibility, Rick. I’ve always taken care of myself. I’m trying to figure out how to keep doing that.”

He had made a promise to Terrell. Now he needed to convince Stephanie to let him fulfill it. “Lone ranger tactics get people killed, Stephanie. Even the toughest cops call for backup.”

As soon as he said it, memories flashed, and in his mind he was instantly back on the sidewalk by the warehouse in the Industrial District on the night that he and Axle had been stabbed. He was once again in the dark, rain falling on his face while he waited for either rescue or death, unable to move, unable to do anything but wait for backup to save him.

Most of all he remembered the blood. Blood on the man’s chest where Rick’s bullets had entered. Axle’s blood. Rick’s blood. And he remembered the sounds. Sirens. Pounding feet of his backup finally arriving, running to help. Shouts of “Officer down. Officer down.”

Rick shook his head to clear it, returning to the present. “I understand not wanting to be in need of help, believe me, I get that better than you know. But can’t you see that taking off on your own and refusing their help has made you more of a burden for Val and Terrell? You should see how worried they are about you right now.”

Her face was turned up toward his, and he noticed how close they had moved to each other as they talked. Even in the dim lighting of the sanctuary, he was near enough to see her eyes change to a different shade of blue as they filled with tears. Her head dropped, and she slid her hands up into her hairline and grabbed at her roots. “Ugh. That was not what I was trying to do.”

He reached out and pulled her hands down to her sides. “I know it wasn’t what you wanted to do, but Stephanie, it took me only two hours to find you in the city. It could have been Hale who found you instead of me. What was your plan?”

She plopped down onto the nearest seat. She rested her head on the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling. “I didn’t have a plan,” she admitted, but added, “Yet. I was going to figure it out, maybe find a women’s shelter or something that would help me. But once I started walking, I didn’t know where to go. I thought about going back to the school to get the stuff I had left there, or going home and making some phone calls. But I was too scared to go to any of the places Julian knew about so I ended up here. Our pastor is meeting with the worship team upstairs, and he said I could hang out here for a while and pray.”

She rolled her head to the side in order to look in his direction. “So how did you find me?”

Rick shrugged, then sat down on the chair next to her. “Not sure. Just knew you would want to feel safe and thought your church might be a place you’d go in search of help.”

“Yeah, I thought someone would be here and that maybe the office would have a flier or a phone number for a shelter or something.” She laughed. “But as silly as it is to say out loud, I also kind of hoped maybe a killer wouldn’t want to come into God’s house, like church was home base or something.”

She sat up and turned toward Rick. She curled one leg under her on the seat and shifted to face him. “I’m really sorry, Rick. About making you hunt me down again. I figured you would be done trying to save me if I didn’t want to be saved.”

“It’s tempting,” he told her, even though his anger had fizzled out. He understood her thinking. “But I owe Terrell more than I will ever be able to pay back in this lifetime, so if being your personal bodyguard for a little bit frees him up and eases his mind, that’s what I’m going to do.”

During the long months of fighting off infection and suffering through rehab, throughout all of the boring hours of being a desk jockey on light duty, all he had cared about was getting back to doing real police work. And now after only one day back at it, he was volunteering to walk away from it again. This girl better be worth it. Apparently she was to Val and Terrell, and they were definitely worth it to him. He couldn’t think of any of his other friends who would be able to call in a favor like this.

Stephanie bumped her shoulder against his. “That is if I let you be my bodyguard.” She was teasing now. Was she giving in?

“Terrell asked for one week to get organized. After that you guys can make whatever other plans you want to make.” Rick waited for an answer. “So, think you can put up with me for a week, or do I have to keep hunting you down all night? It’s been a long day and I wouldn’t mind clocking out and getting something to eat.”

She bit her bottom lip. He could tell it was hard for her to admit she didn’t have any other options. Then she smiled a real smile like the one in the photograph. She held her hands up in surrender. “Okay. You win. What’s the plan?”

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