Called to Protect (Blue Justice #2)

Izzy blanched and Blake wished he’d softened the news a bit. Twice in one day his words had gotten past the filter. He was going to have to work on that.

“Actually, Blake was the one who saved me from going off the roof,” Chloe said.

Another flinch from Izzy. She held up her hand. “That’s all I need to know. I’m glad you’re okay. Don’t tell Mom about any roof diving. She still hasn’t recovered from my death-defying experiences. On another note,” Izzy continued, “first responders are here, but they won’t be any help to him. Do you know who he was?”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Blake said.

Chloe shook her head. “I only got a brief look at his face before he went over. I don’t recognize him either.”

“I’ve got to check on Jo and Judge Worthington,” Blake said. “Excuse me.”

“She’s in an ambulance,” Izzy said.

Blake stopped. “And the judge?”

“He’s secure and has two deputy marshals on him.”

Okay, that was two things he could mark off his worry list. For now.

“Blake.”

He turned to find Linc and his partner, Special Agent Travis Richfield, bearing down on them. “Good job,” Linc said.

“Kudos go to Hank and Detective Holcombe here.”

“Quinn,” the detective said. “And I was hoping to take him alive, but he wasn’t of the same mind.”

“Yeah.” No one was going to shed tears over the loss of the would-be killer. Linc turned to his sister. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“And Hank?” He scratched the animal’s ears. Hank edged closer, encouraging him to continue.

“Happy with himself. He did his job too.”

Linc nodded. “Travis and I are talking with other witnesses, but, as usual, stories are scattered and inconsistent. We’ll focus on the consistencies and go from there.” He eyed Blake. “As much as we can figure he somehow got his hands on a badge with his picture. Fake name, but the badge is real enough. He passed through security with no issues.”

Chloe bit her lip. “This whole thing screams inside help.”

Linc raised a brow. “Thanks, we’ve come to that conclusion as well.”

Blake thought Chloe might stick her tongue out at her older brother, but being the professional she was, she refrained. He knew she wanted to, though.

“I’ve got to go do all of the shooting protocol paperwork and figure out what I’m going to do with myself for the next few days,” Quinn said with a sigh. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Blake said.

An officer, wearing the SLED logo on her vest, approached Linc. “Are you Special Agent in Charge Linc St. John?”

“I am.”

“I’m SLED Special Agent Jessie Parrish.”

SLED. South Carolina Law Enforcement Division. The two shook hands, then Linc introduced Blake and Chloe. “What can I do for you?” Linc asked.

“We’ve just gotten notice that the name on the badge the shooter used is legit. Matthew Neighbors is a guard here. But he doesn’t look anything like the shooter.” She passed her iPhone to Linc to take a look. Blake peered over his shoulder. Definitely not the shooter.

“So, where’s this guy?” Linc asked.

“We’re looking for him. He’s not answering his phone, but his wife said he left for work this morning, just like every day.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Chloe muttered.

Blake raised a brow and Linc frowned. “What do you mean?” Linc asked.

“Is there anything that belongs to this man that Hank could use?” Chloe asked.

“Why? You want Hank to track him? You think he’s here in the building?” Blake said.

“Yes. Don’t you?”

He sighed. “I’d say it’s a distinct possibility. Which would mean our shooter came in through security with no weapon. Found the armed guard and took his weapon.”

“And his uniform.”

“But not his badge,” Linc said. “Our shooter had that made long before he got here.”

“This was a well-planned attack,” Chloe said.

“But why, when they had Rachel?”

“Backup,” Blake said. “And when she escaped, they decided to go with Plan B.”

“All right,” Linc said, “let me get someone who works here to show us where employees stash their stuff while on the job.” He pulled his phone out and dialed a number.

Within a minute, a courthouse employee hurried forward. He shook hands as he introduced himself. “I’m Danny Frank with First Defense Security. My company is in charge of the courthouse security here. I’d apologize more if I thought it would make a difference, but it won’t.” His pale face and tight jaw said he wasn’t happy at all with the incident. “Just tell me what I can do to help.”

“Can you show us where employees would leave personal items and such while working?” Blake asked.

“Of course, follow me.”

He led the way down the stairs to the basement and swiped his card across the pad. The lock clicked and he pushed the door open. Empty, the room echoed with their footsteps as they crossed the floor. Danny looked at his phone. “Says here, his locker is number 56.”

“Combination?”

“No, he’s got a padlock. Uses a key.” He tapped the screen. When he looked up, he nodded to the far end of the room. “Over there. I’ve got someone bringing a tool to cut the lock off.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand this. I don’t understand where we went wrong or where the gap was in security.”

“There always seems to be a way around the tightest security,” Blake murmured.

Chloe raised a brow but didn’t comment. Hank shifted at her side, restless. She placed a hand on his head and he settled.

The door opened and an officer dressed in tactical gear entered. “Here you go.” He hefted the bolt cutters. Blake took the device and hooked the ends around one side of the lock. He squeezed and the hasp split apart.

Blake handed the tool back to Linc and opened the door. Matthew Neighbors faced him with the blank stare only the dead had. The black hole in his forehead told a lot of the story.

“Blake?”

He stepped back. “Guess we don’t need Hank for this one.”





10


Rachel took one more step, then sank to the log on the ground beside her. She’d been walking forever and was cold. Very cold. The sun tried to reach through the trees but wasn’t having much success.

The old horse blanket around her shoulders helped, but the temperature had dropped with each passing hour, and now she sat shivering, the dark woods pressing in on her from all sides.

She had no idea how far she’d gone or even in which direction. Who knew there was this much wooded area thirty minutes outside of Columbia?

Think, Rach, think.

She’d followed a path. At least a rough one. But it had been a path. Surely it had to lead to somewhere.

“And you’re not going to get anywhere sitting here like a bump on a log.” She sighed. “Pun intended.” She couldn’t laugh at her misplaced wit. And she didn’t dare cry because she’d never stop.

So she stood and continued her trek on the sort-of-maybe-path. Truthfully, it did look like someone had cleared it at some point, but it had grown back over from lack of use. Placing one foot after the other, she kept walking, praying for the end of the trees. However, they seemed to go on forever.

Was Blake looking for her? Was he worried about her? She shuffled, her heart heavy, grief mingling with the fear that had been her constant companion for the past week. He seemed to care, but she knew he didn’t. She’d found the proof shortly after she’d moved in with him.

So, why the act? Why would he be so frantic on the phone? Why race to the hospital?

Or was it an act?

She scoffed. Of course it was. He’d turned down the opportunity for full custody when presented with it. So . . .

Rachel sighed. She was so confused. And hungry. So very hungry. She’d eaten the second protein bar a good hour ago. Thankfully, she’d found a small creek with flowing water and that quenched her thirst. She figured since it was moving, it wouldn’t be stagnant and give her some kind of parasite. She hoped so anyway. Her stomach rumbled. She wanted a hamburger and fries and a shake.

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