Shield of Refuge (12 page)

A
s Garrett and Amber closed up shop, she forgot something and ran back to get it. He went on to warm up his car. While he waited, he called his brother-in-law, the one married to his sister Kira. Hopefully, being an officer in a neighboring town wouldn't raise the kind of concerns that one of the FCPD digging would. “Dallas, I need a favor. Could you run a Nebraska plate for me?” He knew that he couldn't turn to anyone on the force to do his digging.

If someone was out to hurt the Matthews brothers, he wasn't going to give them any more rope to hang them with. Though the chief had told him to keep Amber out of the limelight, Garrett knew he would also be keeping a close eye on his every move. His cousin was keeping him informed about the investigation of the rock that had come through Amber's window. They were all trying to figure out what the note written on it meant, and who it was meant for.

He couldn't help but question why the chief wasn't pushing for an investigation if he suspected something was going on. Until Garrett had more to go on, he had to make his moves very carefully.

He scanned the street and unlocked his car, glancing up to Amber's apartment window, waiting for the lights to go on in her apartment.

“What's up, Garrett? Why don't you run it yourself?”

He and Dallas hadn't hit it off initially, but the whole family laughed about the incident now. After Kira's police ride-along had ended in a drug bust, with Kira the key witness, Dallas had gone to get a statement from Garrett's sister and ended up marrying her. “It's the case that led to my accident. I'm not sure I should be looking into it. In fact, I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be, but…”

“What in the world is going on over there? First Nick, now you? You don't think it could be someone with a grudge against you guys, do you?”

Garrett took a quick look under the car, kicking himself for letting himself assume anything—good or bad. He didn't watch cop shows on television for this reason. “No, I don't see how anyone could have carried this out to get at me. Amber, the woman who ran into me, didn't mean to hit me. She wouldn't hurt a flea.”

Dallas chuckled. “Your sister and I are going to get to meet her, aren't we? Your parents sure seem to like her. They make it sound like you do, too.”

He deserved the razzing. He'd dished it out, and now it was his turn to receive. “Just look up the information, Dallas.” He paced the sidewalk and waited impatiently. Amber hadn't turned on the lights upstairs yet. He glanced around to the quiet block. There was no sign of gang problems now, but he really didn't like how long it was taking her to get her things.

If anyone could understand what Garrett was facing, dating a woman that he'd met in the line of duty, it was Dallas. “You still there?”

“I'm here.”

“So while this is running, tell me more about this case,” Dallas said.

Garrett could just imagine the smile on his brother-in-law's face as he explained the awkward situation with Amber and the superior officer who'd pushed him into her arms. “The last thing I want is to alert anyone at Fossil Creek P.D. that I'm digging into a closed case.”

“And you still have no idea why they closed it?” Dallas asked.

Garrett was beginning to doubt the wisdom of enlisting his brother-in-law's assistance. He didn't expect Dallas to read him the riot act. “According to the chief, the mayor's put the gag order on it. Can't hurt business, you know.”

“Despite the fact that innocent victims are paying the price…” Dallas finished.

Garrett heard his brother-in-law mutter under his breath. “Hey, the system just went down. I'll call you back when I find what you need.”

Meanwhile, Garrett brushed his suspicions of corruption aside and got into the car. He called Nick to find out the status in the downtown area. They'd made several arrests within the rival gangs, but didn't think they had the shooter. The gang unit was having a busy night, and Garrett was sitting here, waiting for a light to go on. There was something wrong when he was more anxious to see a light in a second-story window than chasing down criminals.

It had been five minutes and Amber still wasn't upstairs. He pulled her business card from his wallet and dialed the shop number, since she'd sent her purse with him to the car. No one answered, though the phone sounded as if it was working again. He tried her cell number, hoping she'd put it into her pocket instead of her purse.

Just as he opened the car door to go inside, the lights in her apartment brightened the shades. “Don't open the shades, Amber,” he whispered. Pretty soon her hand shone in the window and she waved. He smiled.

Amber finally came back out and locked the door behind her. She got into the car and shivered. “I don't know how, but I think the apartment is colder than when I went in ten minutes ago.”

“Maybe you bumped into the thermostat.”

“Maybe,” she said, seeming worried.

“Were things okay? It seemed to take you a while.”

She took a long time answering. “Yeah.”

“Amber. What's wrong?”

She shrugged. “Probably nothing.”

Garrett believed 100 percent in following his gut instinct, and right now he had a bad feeling. He looked into his rearview mirror, but didn't see anyone. “What's nothing?” He didn't want to scare her, but he did want to be prepared.

“I went to get my business credit card out of my desk upstairs and noticed that my knives weren't there where I put them after the accident.”

“Why'd you put them in your desk?”

“I wasn't thinking straight. I just set them down there. But now they're not there. I kept meaning to move them back to the kitchen, but I've been so rushed. I'll need them for this weekend.”

“You probably just put them away sometime and forgot. I'll help you look for them when we go back in the morning. I'm sure they're there somewhere.”

Dallas called just as they pulled into his parents' driveway ten minutes later. He pulled a pad of paper from his glove box and a pen from the visor. “Hey, Dallas. What did you find out?”

“Marcus Smith, twenty-six years old, address on the registration is his parents' in Kearney, Nebraska, phone number 407-555-1212, no priors.”

He wrote down the details and thanked Dallas. “We'll talk to you soon. Give Kira my love.”

“Will do. Garrett, you're doing the right thing, but be careful that you don't cross the wrong person.”

“When I figure out who that would be, I'll know who to watch out for, won't I? Thanks for the information.”

As soon as they'd gone into the house, he reviewed Sam's notes and tried to figure a way to get more information about the original report to see if Chavez had filed any evidence at all.

He checked his watch, realizing that Amber needed to be back at work in less than five hours. And he was going to be there to make sure she was okay.

 

Amber collapsed into bed, too tired to even think about all that had happened in the past four hours. The only thing left in her dreams was kissing the one man who should be off-limits—Garrett Matthews.

She woke at three in the morning, later than usual. She jumped out of bed, dressed and ran downstairs to meet Garrett. She'd have to shower and clean up as soon as Andrea and Sean showed up to work.

“Morning, beautiful.”

“Hi, but I'm not beautiful right now. Sorry I'm late.”

“With the two of us working, we'll be ready twice as fast. I think it's time I start learning the ropes.”

The mixers were all running and the flour billowed from the bowls. She added a little more warm milk to the mixtures and all was back to normal, except the fine white dust all over the floor.

The shrill ring of the phone startled her and Garrett both. “Who would be calling at three in the morning?” She had to remember to attach a caller identification box to the business line. What if this was an emergency regarding Nana?

“At least the phone is working. I'll answer.” All he got was heavy breathing.

“I've had a lot of hang-ups lately,” Amber said. She couldn't believe she was so relieved that he was here. She pulled the dough from the mixers and covered them to rise. “I'm going to go upstairs to find my knives,” she said. “Would you like to come up? I can make us breakfast.”

He glanced at his watch and nodded. “I always work the night shift, so it's better for me to keep those hours while I'm off duty.”

“You mean you didn't sleep last night?”

He shook his head. “I worked on the case mostly, but I hated to call the kid's parents so late.”

Her smile disappeared. “I can't imagine making that call.”

“It's a necessary part of the job, and it's going to be far easier than the next ones, I'm afraid. I'll call about six-thirty our time, in case they work. Hopefully about the time your employees arrive, I'll have some answers, then I can go home and rest for a while. So for now, what can I do to help you? Did you sleep?”

She stood there staring at him. “I was asleep before my head hit the pillow, but that's only because I feel so safe with you around.”

Garrett smiled as he pulled her close. “Good.”

“With your injury, you should be getting more sleep. And don't try to convince me you're better—you would have been released to work again.”

His smile disarmed her. “I've been getting some alternative treatments so I won't have any medications in my system. I'm feeling fine,” he insisted, placing a kiss on her forehead. “We're wasting time. Stop arguing and put me to work while I'm a willing slave.” He passed by her and went right to the stairs to search her apartment for the missing knife set.

Amber unlocked the door, and the frigid air hit them in the face.

“Whoa, you weren't kidding. Is your furnace working?”

She paused. “It has been, but there's a draft.” She walked back to the bedroom while he started looking for the thermostat.

Seconds later Amber's shrill scream set his adrenaline flowing. He heard a thud, and muffled screams.

He pulled his gun, pausing at each doorway ready to take out whoever was threatening the woman he loved.

“Garrett,” she squeaked.

Just as he got to the back room, he saw Amber drop to the floor and a dark figure run out the fire-escape door.

“Amber!” She didn't move.

He looked outside for the intruder, then slammed the door and dropped to her side. “Amber.”

One of her huge chef's knives was on the ground next to her. “Amber,” he said weakly, searching for a stab wound. He couldn't see that she'd been stabbed. He patted her face, then felt her carotid artery, ready to start CPR or whatever was necessary to save her.

Just as he adjusted her head, she gasped, then choked. “Garrett,” she whispered. “He was here!”

“I know. Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “I don't think so…” she said, softer this time. “It was him. It was the kidnapper.”

He nodded. “He had a knife—are you sure he didn't…”

She sobbed, and Garrett pulled her into his embrace. “He…was in here…. The door was wide open, so I went to close it.” She moved her hands to her throat. “He was behind the door when I went to close it. Said he'd been…waiting…for me.” She pulled Garrett close. “And…” She stared at the knife on the floor next to them. “My knife? Was it
my
knife at my throat?”

“I don't know. It might have been. Don't touch it. Maybe he left prints.” He needed to check her neck again. But how could he have missed a cut when he'd felt for her pulse?

She shook her head, pushing his hand from her neck. “No, he said you had everything, but no more. He said he's going to show you, outsmarting all of…all of you cops, and…”

Garrett was trying to make sense of her mumbling. “And what, Amber?” he whispered, his heart breaking for her. He caressed her back, trying to calm her down so he could understand her. He didn't ever want to let her go.

She looked at him with those crystal-blue eyes. He could drown in her eyes. If they ever had the chance, he could think of nothing he'd enjoy more.

She placed her hands on each side of his face. “He's going to kill…” She kissed him gently, then cried again.

He ran his fingers along her chin and noticed blood on his hand when he took it away. “Shh, you're okay now. He's gone. Amber, I need you to lie down and let me check your…” He could barely breathe, let alone speak. Surely he hadn't slit her throat. “I won't let that happen. We won't let him near you again, honey.”

“No,” she cried. “He's—”

“Amber, shh. Don't think about it. I'm going to call 911 now. I need to get my cell phone out of my pocket.”