Full Force Fatherhood (6 page)

Once they were in the bedroom, Mark turned and quietly shut the door behind them. He threw the lock before turning to his hostess. The nightstand lamp illuminated her face. Acute worry shone clearly across it—so intense it almost gave him pause.

Almost.

“A man in a mask just broke into the office. I can't tell if he was armed,” he whispered, taking his cell phone out of his pocket. He handed it to her and went to the bed where Grace and Lynn were fast asleep. He shook the woman. It took her a second, but her eyes finally fluttered open. He put a finger to his lips when she opened her mouth. “Take Grace into the bathroom and lock the door.” Surprisingly, Lynn didn't argue. Without comment, she scurried out of bed.

Mark went back to Kelli, who was whispering into the phone. She watched with wide eyes as her best friend carried her still-sleeping daughter into the en suite. It was those wide eyes that he was looking into when the lamp and the bathroom light cut off. He could hear the dying whirl of the ceiling fan as it powered down.

He cursed beneath his breath before a hand reached out and took his.

“Either the storm or the intruder just cut the power,” Kelli whispered to the 911 operator. Whatever the operator said back to her, he didn't hear. She squeezed his hand, pulling him closer. Suddenly her breath was next to his ear. “There's a flashlight under the bathroom sink.”

It was Kelli's turn to pull him along. He didn't stop her. She knew the house better.

“Lynn, take the phone,” Kelli whispered when they were inside the bathroom. There was noise, and then Lynn was the one whispering to the operator. The glow of the phone illuminated her sitting in the soaker tub, Grace asleep still in her arms.

Kelli didn't drop Mark's hand as she retrieved a giant flashlight from beneath the counter. She clicked it on. He was surprised to see that the worry she had exuded earlier had changed into something else. He couldn't place it and didn't have time to. She turned to her best friend.

“Stay here and don't open this door. And keep Grace safe no matter what,” she ground out, turning the lock inside the door before shutting it and taking Mark with her into the bedroom. No hesitation lined her movements.

“There's a gun in the nightstand,” she whispered, hurrying over to retrieve it. “But it doesn't have a clip.” Her face fell. “I separated them just in case Grace found it...and I've already packed it up.” Mark scanned the boxes that lined the wall.

“They don't know that,” he said, taking the black 9 mm. It was undoubtedly empty, weighing significantly less than when it was loaded. He held the grip with one hand. With the other, he cupped the bottom, where the clip would normally be. If he kept it there, no one would be the wiser.

Until he needed to shoot it.

“What are you going to do?” Kelli kept the flashlight's beam on the floor. The beam bounced off the hardwood to give them just enough lighting to see the shadows on each other's faces.

“I'm going to go greet our new guest.”

“But can't we just wait for the police?”

The storm kept its loud pace outside.

“I'm not confident in their response time,” he said, already moving Kelli back to the bathroom door. “Stay and turn the light off.”

“Be careful,” she whispered.

The flashlight cut off. He waited a moment for his eyes to readjust to the darkness before creeping back into the hallway. The storm wasn't helping him hear exactly where the intruder was, but by the same token, the intruder probably didn't hear him, either. It helped he was barefoot.

Slowly he followed the cool hardwood back toward the living room. Without the kitchen light on, the house was bathed in darkness. The occasional lightning flash lit up his surroundings.

He mentally pulled up the layout of the house, thanks to a quick tour Kelli had given him after supper. The only way to get to the women was to go through him or the bedroom window. He doubted the intruder would go back outside just to break back in. If he did, he knew Kelli would let him know.

Mark slowed at the arch that opened into the living room. He heard rustling but couldn't tell where exactly it was coming from. Pulling the gun up as if it were actually loaded, he swung around into the room. Judging by the size and form, the intruder was a man. Broad shoulders couldn't be hidden by the black jacket he wore. He was no longer in the office but by a stack of boxes behind the couch in the living room. Mark had hoped to be quiet enough to surprise him completely, but the man turned at his presence.

Mark immediately noted the gloves and ski mask he wore.

And the knife in his hand. Even from a distance in the low light, he could see it was at least six inches in length.

“Drop the knife and put your hands up,” Mark barked, making sure to keep his hand firm over the empty space where the clip should have been. He tried quickly to discern any details that might give him an edge over the mystery man if things went south. The intruder wasn't as big as Mark, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to fight. The flashlight he'd had when Mark had first seen him was set on the back of the couch. It partially lit up the room but not enough to piece together the intruder's expression or intention beneath his mask. “I said,
drop it
,” Mark repeated, moving closer. He wanted to show the man he wasn't joking.

“And here I thought the ladies were alone.” The way the man said it put Mark further on edge. There was no worry or remorse in his words. Almost as if he was stating a lazy fact.

“Drop the knife or I'll drop you.” Mark lowered his voice to a level he hoped was pure threat. The man wasn't showing any signs of fear. He moved the knife to his other hand.

“‘Drop me,' eh? Been watching a lot of cop shows, haven't you?”

“Can't say I'm the only one,” Mark bit out. “Looks like you've been taking pointers from some lowlifes. I'd rather be the cop than the thief.”

The man chuckled.

“I may be stealing something, but I'm no thief,” he responded, starting to move slowly around the couch. Mark was surprised he was coming closer rather than trying to flee. He had no way of knowing there was no clip inside the gun. “But I don't have to explain myself to you.”

Later Mark would be able to look back and realize that the small smile that brought up the corner of the man's lips right after he spoke was the exact moment he knew that the man was dangerous. That, without a doubt, the intruder was an immediate threat not only to Mark but also to the women in the house.

But in the moment, he felt his body act of its own accord.

He threw the gun at the man with all the strength he had. Clearly surprised, the intruder didn't duck out of the way. The gun hit his shoulder hard. The knife in his hand clattered to the ground.

Mark didn't hesitate.

Chapter Eight

The two men hit the far wall with enough force that Mark heard the man's breath push out. Mark wanted to get the man away from his weapon and subdue him. Tackling him into a wall seemed to be the best of both worlds.

However, it was Mark's turn to be surprised.

The man might have lost his breath, but he hadn't lost his fighting skills. He brought up his fist and gave Mark a good right hook. Pain burst behind his eye just as the man brought his foot right on top of Mark's instep. The combination made him waver enough that the intruder was able to push Mark backward into the couch.

“Is that it, bodyguard?”

How had he known Mark was a bodyguard? Ex or otherwise?

Mark balled his fists and brought his feet apart just in time for the intruder to lunge forward.

He swung high. Mark ducked low.

They went through another flurry of fists before the man threw a punch that landed so close to Mark's face that he lost his balance trying to dodge it. The intruder used the gap in defense to his advantage. He threw his shoulder into Mark's chest, and together they toppled over the couch.

Mark's head hit the coffee table, dazing him. The intruder pushed off him and made a run for his knife, lying a few feet from them.

“I don't think so,” Mark hissed, scrambling to grab the man. He wasn't fast enough. The man picked up his weapon. He turned so fast that Mark froze.

“I'm no thief, but I don't mind fighting,” the man said, brandishing the too-large knife.

Mark was so close that if the man jumped forward, he'd slice him with ease. Images of the three ladies in the bedroom flashed behind his eyes. He needed to get that knife away from the man, no matter what.

Just as he was gearing up to grab the man's wrist, something small flew over his shoulder. It hit the intruder's nose. He yelled in pain. Mark used the opening to grab the man's wrist and bend it backward. The knife once again dropped to the ground. Mark didn't waste time in retrieving it.

“Don't move,” Mark ground out, knife in hand. The man's eyes—dark, Mark couldn't tell what color—darted from the weapon to a space over Mark's shoulder. Without another comment, he turned and ran back into the office. Mark tried to catch him but the man was fast.

He jumped through the window he'd broken and disappeared into the stormy night.

Mark wanted to follow him—to catch him—but a sound behind him drew his attention away.

Kelli stood in the living room doorway, eyes wide.

“I found the clip,” she said, voice a few octaves too high. Mark didn't understand until he followed her gaze to the floor near the couch. Despite the situation, he let out a loud laugh.

“That's what hit him,” he realized. “You
threw
the clip at him.”

Kelli shrugged.

“I panicked,” she admitted. “I thought he was going to stab you. I can't believe it actually hit him. I can barely see.”

“We're quite the couple, then.” Mark walked over to the discarded gun, partially under the couch thanks to the scuffle, and retrieved its clip. Working at Orion had trained him to shy away from using guns—there were other ways to disable an attacker—but he wasn't about to just leave it on the floor, either. He put the safety on and secured the gun in the back of his pants. “I threw the gun at him when I realized he wasn't going to give up.”

Kelli let out her own little laugh, but it didn't last long.

Mark sobered. “The cops are on their way?”

“Yeah, the dispatcher said it might take a little bit because of the storm.” Kelli took a few steps forward and extended her hand to him. Unsure of what to do, he took it. The light from the flashlight made shadows dance across her concerned face. The nerves boiling beneath his skin began to die down.

They were safe.

Kelli was safe.

“Are you okay?” she asked, not fazed by their contact. Mark wondered how well she could read him. Surprise at her thoughtfulness toward him was all he could feel for a moment. His slow response time only seemed to heighten that concern. “
Did
he cut you?”

“No, I'm fine. All he got in were a few punches.” Pain in his head started to rise in his awareness. He glanced over to the coffee table. “But I think I might have cracked your coffee table.”

Kelli didn't even turn to look. She squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He squeezed back. “Thank
you
. I have no doubt that he would have used this.” Mark dropped her hand and held the knife up.

“Do you think his fingerprints are still on it?”

Mark shook his head, recalling the gloves the intruder had worn. “He came prepared.”

Kelli grabbed the flashlight and pointed it to the office. Mark watched as she moved the beam across the now-open boxes from a safe distance.

“That's my laptop,” she said, pausing in her movement. “I almost never use it. It's basically brand-new.” She moved the light back into the living room to the open box that obviously held the stereo. “It's not a brand-new model, but it's worth money.” The light moved again until it rested between them, showing him the clear expression of someone who has just discovered something they wish they hadn't. “Mark, I don't know why, but I think he was looking for Victor's journal.”

Mark thought back to the purse snatching. The mugger had left the purse...and nothing had been taken. Now, in the dead of night, in the middle of a storm, a man decked out in black had broken in. What's more, he'd admitted he was no thief but was after
something
.

That was too many coincidences.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Mark met Kelli's gaze with certainty.

“I think I'm officially on the paranoid train.”

* * *

T
HE
POLICE
BROUGHT
in rain and mud and a lot of questions. Kelli, ready to deal with all three, was immensely thankful that Mark was more than willing to walk the cops through everything that had happened. Not leaving any details out. So when he got to the part about her throwing the clip at the intruder's head—an act of sheer panic on her part—the two men paused and looked her way.

Grace, now fully awake on Kelli's hip, waved at them. Mark was the only one who did a little wave back before taking the officers through the rest of the story. He stepped with them over to the broken office window, and together all three stood with heads tilted.

“This sleepover was almost as bad as Marcie Diggle's fifteenth birthday party,” Lynn said from the dining table's chair behind her.

“Just because you found out Marcie kissed Tim Duncan,” she replied.

Lynn snapped her fingers.

“Yeah, a week after he kissed
me
.” She crossed her arms over her chest. The pajama set she'd borrowed had already been switched back to her earlier clothes. Kelli knew the way old friends do that Lynn was using humor to stay calm. She turned away from the men and patted Lynn's shoulder.

“You did good, Lynn,” she said, tone void of any playful tease. “We're lucky to have you in our lives.”

The dark-haired woman's expression softened. A small smile brought up the corners of her lips. She touched Kelli's hand.

“We're also lucky the storm kept Mark here.” She glanced over to the ex-bodyguard. “He kept calm, really calm.”

Kelli nodded at that. “It used to be his job.”

“I guess it was good timing you invited him for dinner. Though maybe next time you invite him somewhere, you should go ahead and invite the cops, too.”

Kelli wanted to tell Lynn right then that she believed the mugging and the break-in were a result of Victor's work, but at the same time she knew she wouldn't tell her. Lynn had been her confidant since before puberty. Apart from Grace, there was no one she loved more in the world. Telling Lynn that she might have stumbled across a conspiracy that had gotten her husband killed was getting the woman too close to danger. Lynn hurt—or worse—was an unimaginable danger she wanted to avoid at all costs.

Right then and there, Kelli made up her mind to keep Lynn in the dark.

“Kelli?” Mark called after the officers went back to their car to retrieve their camera. The ex-bodyguard, still shoeless and in his undershirt, met her in the middle of the living room with a face filled with concentration. Grace put her cheek back on her mother's shoulder but turned her head to watch the man speak. She was always curious. “They said they're going to take some pictures for evidence and finish taking both of our statements. They put out an APB for the man and have a patrol car looking, but if that guy is half as smart as I think he is, he'll have used the weather to hide.” Mark paused, giving a quick smile to the little girl before sobering again. “That being said, I think it might be best if you don't stay here tonight.”

“Oh, don't worry, we won't,” she agreed. “Lynn already offered us her guest bedroom. Though...” Kelli placed her hand on Grace's back and began to rub it, the motion soothing her probably more than the girl. “I wasn't at home last night when I was mugged, Mark. What if we're right and someone is after the journal? What if they keep coming after me—after us—until they find it? Being across the city won't make a difference. We'll still be in danger.”

It was a dark thought but also a real possibility. Keeping her family safe was all that mattered, and now she wasn't sure how to keep doing it.

Mark didn't immediately respond. His dark eyes were trying to have a conversation with her that she couldn't exactly understand. One that drew his brow together and thinned his lips before he finally spoke.

“Then we'll have to figure out who is after it and why,” he decided. The decisive
we
he inserted filled her with an odd excitement. As well as relief. Sharing the burden of fear—no matter the degree of selfishness—made the situation less terrifying.

“But what about until we do?” She paused her rubbing motion on Grace's back. “How do we stay safe?”

“I know someone who might help with that.”

* * *

M
ARK
MOVED
THIS
way and that—trying to get comfortable. The front seat didn't give. He let out a long exhalation. Instead of trying a new position, he let his body become still again. The street outside Lynn's town house was quiet after the storm. He sat in Kelli's car. Lynn's neighbors paid Mark no mind if they saw him, which he doubted.

He'd been sitting there since he'd driven the tired women over. After the police had left and they'd put up a makeshift tarp over Kelli's broken window, Kelli had pulled him aside to let him know just how much she didn't want to involve Lynn. Not until they had concrete proof.

“I want to keep her safe, and isn't ignorance bliss?”
she had said with fake humor. It had disappeared quickly.
“Plus, she's taken on a lot with Grace and me since Victor's death. I—I have to be certain before I drag her in.”

Mark saw the reason in her desire to keep her best friend in the dark. If he could, he'd keep Kelli out of the loop, too. But whoever was after the journal certainly hadn't thought twice about making contact with her. The fact that the man had known the house was filled with the young family and Lynn, and had come in armed anyway was something that made his blood boil.

The Cranes had already been through enough.

Mark rolled his shoulders back and stifled a yawn. His eyes fell to the journal on his lap. Kelli had offered the evidence to him so she wouldn't be alone in knowing what Victor had once known, too. It was strange to read the man's notes in a way. Seeing the words he had written and knowing that the journalist knew nothing of his tragic fate made the guilt in Mark rise to the surface. If only he could have stopped the man in black...

Just as another yawn was making its way through Mark, the front door of Lynn's town house opened. Kelli, dressed in a blue T-shirt from the Dallas Zoo and jeans, walked out with two cups in her hands. Her short hair hung darker, wet from an apparent shower, but she clearly had makeup on. A messenger bag was slung across her chest. The closer she came, the more he realized he was drinking in all of her details. Shifting in his seat, as if that could ease the sudden guilt, he unlocked the passenger door and pasted on a smile.

“I'm going to assume you're tired,” Kelli greeted him, not pausing as she got in the car. “I'm also going to assume you're a fan of coffee with a lot of sugar.” She handed the cup over, and he laughed.

“I'm not one to turn down free sugary coffee.”

Kelli smiled, pleased.

“Nothing out of the ordinary here?” she swiveled her head around to see both directions of the street. He already knew what it looked like. The scenery would change when people began to leave for work.

“Thankfully it's been pretty quiet.”

“How do you not lose your mind sitting here for hours with nothing happening? Let alone stay awake?” Kelli's eyebrows pinched in question. It was something he'd been asked countless times while on the job with Orion.

“Years of experience, I guess.” He held up the journal as an example of some of what he'd done and passed it to her. She silently placed it in her purse, but Mark could see she wanted more, so he brought up another man from his past. “A friend I worked with at Orion, Oliver, used to tell me the key to keeping focused and sharp—no matter where or what case you were working—was to keep rescanning your environment over and over again as if it was the first time you'd seen it. Because, and I quote, ‘It's the little things that change and bite you in the ass.'” He smiled. “Pardon my French, but that's pretty much how I've worked for years. Making sure none of the details go unnoticed can keep a person busy, even if nothing changes.” Mark couldn't help but think about the night at the cabin. He'd done the same thing both inside and outside the cabin, and yet...