Military Heroes Bundle: A Soldier's Homecoming / A Soldier's Redemption / Danger in the Desert / Strangers When We Meet / Grayson's Surrender / Taking Cover

Ethan had come this way looking for something of himself, something that wasn’t connected to the years in Afghanistan and Iraq. Whoever, whatever he’d been before was gone. Now, about to return to civilian life, he needed new anchors. Experience had taught him to deal with events that came out of the blue, often hectic, usually unstoppable and always initially confusing. It took a lot to throw him offstride.

But right now he felt very much offstride. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected coming out here, but this sure as hell wasn’t it. He hadn’t expected events to rise around him like quicksand again.

Protect a little girl? How could he say no?

“Velma,” Gage said as they passed the dispatcher’s desk, “Ethan here is going to be working with us. And I don’t want anyone outside the department to know that for a while.”

She snorted and blew smoke through her nostrils. A cigarette dangled from her left hand, ash hanging precariously. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

“You heard me. I know you can keep a secret.”

They were already turning into Gage’s office as Velma called after them, “It won’t be me who lets the cat out.”

Gage half smiled. “That woman is such an icon at that desk that if she ever passes on, we’re going to have to put a statue of her there.”

Ethan returned the half smile and settled into the chair he’d occupied only the day before. Gage rounded the desk, running his fingers through his prematurely gray hair, and sat.

“Help me here,” he said. “We need to run surveillance. Keep an eye on Sophie in a way that doesn’t overly restrict her. Keep an eye on the other kids. Because what we don’t know here is whether she was a specific target or a target of opportunity. He could know the names of dozens of kids.”

“Certainly possible if he’s a local.”

“The schools will be on lockdown all day. No students will be allowed out. Parents are being advised to pick up their kids at school or at bus stops. But that still leaves after school.”

Ethan nodded. “My bet is that if the guy hasn’t moved on, he’s not going to try anything until the heat lessens. Just walking from the motel to the diner, I could tell you’re on high alert.”

“Are you saying we should stop?”

“I’m saying you need to be less visible.” Ethan leaned forward. “If the guy hasn’t moved on, you need to surveil in a way that will give him the guts to make a move. Otherwise, once things have been quiet for a week or so, you’re going back to your normal routine and he’s coming out of the woodwork.”

“I was thinking that, too.” Gage rubbed his chin. “But if we’re facing a local, then all my deputies are well-known. It won’t matter if they’re in or out of uniform.”

Ethan nodded slowly. “In Iraq and Afghanistan, I never removed my uniform. I knew I was walking around with a target painted on me.”

“Which means?”

“You still have to be there. Just gradually lessen your patrols so it looks like you’re going back to normal. But make sure everyone in the department knows you’re not. That they have to leave what look like gaps, but only briefly. Sort of like fanning out but making sure you can always manage crossfire, if you follow.”

Gage nodded. “And nobody gets in and out of town without being noted.”

“Yes. So basically, you widen your perimeter, let it become porous, but not so porous you can’t close it up fast.”

“Makes sense. It’ll take a little time to put it into practice.”

“Yeah, it will,” Ethan agreed, “but you don’t want to relax your patrols too quickly, anyway. Never signal the enemy that you’re laying a trap.”

Gage rose and poured two cups of coffee from the drip coffeemaker on a rickety side table. He passed one to Ethan.

“I’ve got one more thing,” he said as he resumed his seat. “It involves you directly.”

Ethan arched a brow, waiting.

“Nobody in town knows who you are yet, especially since you registered at the hotel under the name Birdsong. So, I called Micah about this, and he agrees. He and Faith won’t say anything about you. And I want you to move in with Connie.”

Ethan stiffened. “Hold on there.”

Gage shook his head. “It will work. You’re an old friend of Connie’s from Denver. She decided to ask you to stay with her.”

A million alarm bells sounded in Ethan’s head. “What good will that do? The guy isn’t going to try to steal the little girl out of her bed.”

“No, but it will make it easier for you to keep an eye on her, and nobody would know you were working for me. So if you happen to be seen around Sophie, you have a cover story. Otherwise...”

Otherwise pretend he was back in the mountains, on recon. Passing like a ghost through all kinds of danger. Except the danger here wasn’t directed at him.

Things inside him that had just begun to loosen once again clenched like fists. He was painted, man. He was always painted.

He put his coffee down. “You better make sure the lady is okay with this. Because I’m not sure I am.”

“She will be,” Gage said confidently, his face darkening as if with memory. “Parents tend to be willing to do anything to keep their children safe.”

Anything, Ethan agreed silently. Anything. He’d sure as hell seen enough of what that meant.

But all too often it resulted in horror that could sear the soul.

Chapter 6

Connie couldn’t believe she was standing in a store getting a cell phone for her seven-year-old daughter. It seemed surreal. She’d never wanted one for herself, even after the technology arrived in the county, complete with two different carriers to choose from. Of course, she was hooked up by radio to the department, so a cell phone had struck her as just another intrusion.

Not anymore. Now it meant safety. Safety for Sophie. Her daughter would now have an immediate means of calling her mother or calling the sheriff. As Connie scanned the various plans, she started to choose the cheapest one with a minimum of minutes until she realized the obvious: Sophie was bound to use the phone to call friends, at least until the novelty wore off. Like parents everywhere, she gave up the fight before it began and protected herself against sky-high charges by purchasing a plan with more minutes than she thought Sophie could possibly use.

She bought a case to protect the phone, one that would loop fully around Sophie’s belt, not just clip there. Then she got a phone for herself.

She walked out of the store with her plastic bag, feeling that somehow time had slipped its moorings. Conard City—all of Conard County—had always been a safe place for children, as safe as any place could be. She had the strangest feeling that she had switched centuries, that time had warped and carried her into a frightening new world.

Ridiculous, of course. Her time in Denver had exposed her to all this. But Conard County had in many ways escaped the worst of current times.

Climbing back into her cruiser, she gave herself a mental kick in the butt. How many times had she heard someone say on the TV news, “These things just don’t happen in this town”?

They happened everywhere. She knew it then, and she knew it now. The difference, of course, was that her daughter would be the subject of the news story if things didn’t work out.

Her radio crackled even before she pulled out of the parking place.

“Get on back to the office, sweetie,” Velma said. “Gage needs you. Nothing bad.”

A good thing Velma had added that, Connie thought, as she wheeled away from the curb and headed back to the office. Her heart had been caught in mid-slam. Nothing bad.

Five minutes later she was sitting in Gage’s office with the sheriff and Ethan Parish. Ethan’s presence made her uncomfortable in some way. Not fear or anything. Just a sense of discomfort.

“Ethan’s joining the department,” Gage said.

Connie looked at him. “Congratulations.”

He nodded but said nothing.

“I figure it this way,” Gage said. “Nobody knows Ethan yet, so nobody’s gonna know he’s a deputy. So we’re going to put the story out that he’s an old friend of yours from Denver.”

Connie blinked. “Why?”

“Because then he can move into your house and help keep an eye on Sophie.”

Connie’s chest tightened as if it had suddenly been grabbed and squeezed. Her vision narrowed, and the next thing she knew she was leaning forward, gripping the edge of Gage’s desk, panting for air.

She felt, rather than saw, Gage reach her side, felt him grip her shoulders.

“Connie. Connie?”

It was as if she’d been holding it all back, refusing to truly face the reality of the threat to Sophie until this very instant. She’d been scared, she’d been worried, she’d lain awake, but she’d managed to maintain some distance, some control.

In an instant, all that shattered. Reality came home with heart-stopping, mind-pounding force.

“Connie? Do you need medical help?”

She managed a shake of her head. Her voice came out thin, as if she couldn’t get any air into it. “Somebody tried to kidnap my daughter.”

Gage seemed to understand. He squatted beside her, rubbing her shoulder. “Delayed reaction,” he said. “He didn’t succeed, Connie. And we’re not going to let him succeed. That’s why Ethan is going to stay with you. His skills aren’t dulled yet by living here. He’s in peak form. He’ll smell danger before it gets anywhere near Sophie.”

She managed a nod, closed her eyes and fought for control. She wouldn’t be any good to Sophie like this. She had to stay cool. Keep her wits. Finally she began to breathe again and was able to sit up.

The first thing she did was look at Ethan. “Will you?” she asked. “Do you mind?”

His was a face that didn’t smile easily, she could tell, but he gave her a small one now. “Not at all. It’s been a while since I felt useful.”

“Take the rest of the day, Connie,” Gage said, returning to his seat. “Get Ethan settled however you want, get Sophie from school, do whatever you need to so you can cope.” For an instant his gaze grew distant. “I know what it’s like.”

He did, Connie thought. He certainly did.

* * *

Together she and Ethan stopped by the motel to pick up his gear; then they drove to her house. Julia’s eyes widened when Connie walked into the kitchen with Ethan in tow.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“This is Ethan, Mom,” Connie answered. “An old friend. He’s going to stay with us for a while.”

Julia’s eyes narrowed. “I can smell a fib from fifty feet.”

Ethan surprised Connie by pulling out a chair from the kitchen table so that he and Julia were near eye level. “The truth is, ma’am, I’m here to keep an eye on Sophie. I’m a deputy.”

“A new one.” Julia’s eyes narrowed. “Looks like you’ve seen some grief.”

Ethan shrugged. “The point is, I’ve been hired as personal protection for your granddaughter. Good enough?”

“Better than nothing.”

“Mom!”

Julia looked at her, then back at Ethan. “She hates it when I’m truthful.”

“Well,” said Ethan, “that wasn’t exactly truthful.”

“Why not?”

“Because Connie is protection, too. She’s not nothing.”

At that, Julia cracked a smile. “Okay, then. Go get settled.”

“I have a spare bedroom where—” Connie began, but Ethan interrupted her.

“No bedroom,” he said. “I’ll camp out in the living room. I want to be able to watch the doors.”

“Okay.” At that point, Connie didn’t care. He could perch on the roof if he wanted to, as long as he kept Sophie safe. He tossed his backpack into a corner, out of the way.

“Is it okay if I look around?”

“Help yourself.” Connie dropped her plastic bag on the armchair. “I’m going to have to figure out how to use a cell phone by tomorrow morning.”

“Why is that?”

“I got one for Sophie.”

He nodded. “Good idea.”

“It’s not something I ever thought I’d do for a seven-year-old.”

“Seems smart to me.” Then he gave another small smile. “But don’t look to me for lessons. I’ve never had a cell. I’m a radio kind of guy.”

“I was a radio kind of girl until yesterday.”

She walked him through the house, not that there was much to see. She’d converted the downstairs dining room into a bedroom for her mother. Upstairs, there were three small bedrooms, two with dormers. She used one of those and Sophie the other. The third room, at the back of the house, was cramped, with a low sloping ceiling, but adequate for a twin bed and dresser, if little more.

The house’s only bathroom was downstairs, behind the kitchen. The house had all the earmarks of a place that had been built a bit at a time, the mudroom tacked on like an afterthought next to the kitchen. When the weather was bad, it was the way to enter. Otherwise Connie preferred the side door, between the kitchen and the driveway.

By the time they finished the tour, Julia had a pot of coffee brewing and invited Ethan to join her. He seemed willing enough, so Connie sat with them. She could barely hold still, though. Her eyes kept straying to the clock, counting the minutes until she went to pick up Sophie. Counting the minutes until she could hug her daughter and assure herself that everything was all right.

“What time do we pick her up?” Ethan asked.

“Two-thirty.”

“Okay. When I finish this wonderful coffee—” Julia beamed “—I’ll walk down to the school and scope things out from cover. After I get back, I think we ought to walk back down together to pick her up.”

“Why not take the car?”

“Because if anyone’s watching your daughter, I want to know it.”

“All right.” She wondered how he could be so sure, then decided he’d probably developed a sixth sense for such things where he’d been. It was probably the reason he had survived.

“All right,” she said again. “What if I take a ball and we stop at the park on the way back? Let her get some exercise.”

He nodded. “Soccer ball?”

“I have one, yes.”

“Good. Bring it.” He smiled then, a real smile. “Soccer is an international language. It was a great way to break the ice in Afghanistan. All I had to do was take out my ball and start kicking it around, and pretty soon I’d have a dozen or more kids with me, everyone having a great time. Some of my best memories are of kicking a ball around in that dirt and dust.”

Connie felt herself smiling with him. She could see the pleasure the memories gave him, and she felt relieved to finally see a softer side to him.

But then her eyes strayed to the clock again. The minutes couldn’t possibly move any slower.

* * *

Ethan and Connie left early to pick up Sophie at the school. Ethan carried the soccer ball under his arm, and they strolled along as if they had all the time in the world.

Ethan wanted it to look exactly that way. His eyes moved restlessly, noting every detail of the streets, the cars, the houses that lined them. Connie found herself doing pretty much the same thing, seeking anything that seemed out of place.

Ethan spoke. “It must be hard, being a single mother.”

“Easier than being married to an abusive jerk. Safer for Sophie and me both.”

“I’m sorry. What happened?” He paused. “I guess it’s none of my business.”

“I don’t mind discussing it. I’ve given some courses in anger management, and I’ve used my personal experience to illustrate. My ex beat me. As in most cases, at first he was just controlling. It didn’t seem too bad. Then he started to object to my friends. Classic. Cut me off from my support network.”

Ethan nodded.

“But even though I was a cop, I couldn’t see what was happening to me. It’s odd, isn’t it, how you can see something happen to someone else but not see the same thing happening to you?”

“I think that’s pretty much normal.”

“Maybe. Anyway, he undermined my self-confidence, made me feel responsible for everything that went wrong. Then he hit me a couple of times. He always apologized and swore it would never happen again. I was too ashamed to tell anyone. Cop as abused wife. Sheesh. Talk about humiliating.”

“So what got you out?”

“When he knocked me down and started kicking me. I was pregnant. That’s standard, too. It’s like they resent the intrusion, the loss of control. Regardless, I had someone to think about besides myself. That time I didn’t take it.”

“Good for you.”

She shook her head and sighed. “It wasn’t pretty. After I managed to get to my feet, I knocked him down and got my gun. After that it was a restraining order and divorce. I never saw him again.”

“He couldn’t stand up to the gun, huh?”

“I don’t know. I mean, it was a dangerous time. Thank God for my buddies on the force. They got me out of the house and into a shelter, and for a long time I never went anywhere alone.” She looked over at him. “That’s the time when most women get killed. After they stand up to their abuser and decide to get out. I’ll forever be grateful to my fellow officers.”

“That’s the way it should be. If we don’t take care of each other, who will?”

She figured he was thinking about his own unit and a very different set of circumstances. Sometimes one’s own scars ached in response to similar scars in others. It was as if like recognized like.

“You’re a strong woman,” he remarked.

“Sure. That’s why I’m coming apart. Sophie needs me, and I’m coming apart.”

He touched her arm tentatively, as if afraid of her reaction. “You have to allow those feelings,” he said. “The important thing is that you allow them when it’s safe to have them. That’s what you did in the office this morning. Sophie was safe at school, you were in a safe place, and it hit you. Good timing, actually.”

“Yeah.” She gave a short, mirthless laugh. “There’s this level I was operating at, where I was in control and focused on doing what I needed to. Then, bam, I lost it.”

“That’s okay. Now you’re back in control.”

She glanced at him. “I guess you know about this stuff.”

“Too much about it.”

Surprising herself, she took his hand, feeling its strength, size and power. It was a toughened hand, callused and firm. She squeezed it gently. “Thanks, Ethan.”

He didn’t pull away. “Nothing to thank me for. There have been times when I wanted to beat my head against a wall until it hurt so bad I couldn’t feel anything else. I never gave in, but I think you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

All of a sudden she felt a whole lot better about things. She had an ally. An ally who understood. “So Micah is...your father?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, but I never heard about you before.”

“He didn’t know about me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Can’t say that I am.” He shrugged. “I never knew him, so I never knew what I was missing. A few times when I was a kid I got angry at my mother for never giving us a chance, but I finally understood. She was scared.”

“Scared?”

“Micah was in special ops. He’d go away suddenly, without warning, and she never knew when or if he’d come back. She couldn’t handle the strain.”

“I guess I can see that.”

“Eventually so did I. She explained to me that she just couldn’t see raising a kid that way. That she couldn’t live that way.”

“Did you have a stepfather?”

“That was the interesting thing. She’d date once in a while, but she never married. I don’t know why.”

They were talking about some very painful things, Connie realized, and both of them were acting as if they meant nothing. Just chatting casually about things that had at one time or another nearly cut them in two emotionally.

When she thought about her marriage, which was rare, she thought of it as being behind a glass wall. She could see it, remember it, but it no longer had the power to touch her. She wondered if Ethan had learned to do the same thing.

Unfortunately, the feelings, the pain, were still there and could escape at any time to inflict emotional mayhem.

Growing uncomfortable, she withdrew her hand from Ethan’s and tried to slow her suddenly racing heart.

After a moment she said through a constricted throat, “I just realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“When the unthinkable has happened in your life, you live in constant fear of the worst.”

He fell silent as they continued walking. They reached the corner, then continued to the right. The school was only two blocks away.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “You do.”

It was then that she noticed he wasn’t looking around in the same way she was. She scanned things at street level exclusively, seeking shadows behind shrubs, people sitting in cars, danger in alleyways.

He scanned the ground level, too, but spent much less time on it. He looked higher, as well, to rooftops and upper-story windows. His perception of possible threat seemed significantly greater than hers.

But of course it would be, she realized. Nothing in her life could compare to war.

All of a sudden she felt as if she’d been whining. He’d seen things she couldn’t even imagine, had probably lost friends in the ugliest ways imaginable.

But Sophie... Sophie was precious, too. Incalculably precious. To her. Ethan seemed to understand that or he wouldn’t be here with her right now.

Nor had he given her any sense at all that he didn’t consider her feelings and her daughter to be as important as anything he had ever dealt with.

She felt a warm flutter toward him, and a burst of gratitude. “Thanks so much for helping me with this.”

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?”

She glanced at him before returning her attention to the street. “Trust me, there are men who wouldn’t.”

“Well, I’m not one of them. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that every single life is precious.”

She believed him. And in believing him, she understood the horror of the life he’d led. By choice or by mandate, he had sundered his soul.

They reached the school. Around it, everything was dead quiet, so they took the time to walk the perimeter. Nothing caught their attention, but by the time they reached the front of the school again, busses were pulling into the circular drive, and cars were pulling into the parking lot.

Connie looked at her watch. “Five minutes till the bell.”

He nodded. “I’m going to stand back a little and watch while you collect Sophie.”

She understood. Only one of them should be looking for Sophie, the other should be keeping a lookout. “Don’t stand too far away,” she said. “You don’t want to look suspicious yourself.”

He nodded acknowledgment and stepped back only a couple of feet. In his chambray shirt and jeans, he looked pretty much like anyone else around here who was over thirty, except perhaps for the heritage writ plain on his face. He received more than one look from arriving parents, but no one approached him, perhaps because he stood in a way that indicated he was with Connie.

A group of teachers and administrators emerged from the building, smiling and saying hello to everyone, but taking no time to pause in conversation. They looked around as uneasily as anyone.

Shortly after, the bell rang over speakers inside and out. Within fifteen seconds kids began erupting through the doors, headed for buses or parents.

Sophie arrived within a couple of minutes. She ran over and threw her arms around Connie’s waist, hugging her tightly but giggling at the same time.

“Jeremy has green hair!” she exclaimed.

“How did he get green hair?” Connie asked, squatting to eye level with her daughter.

“He painted it in art class. Mrs. Belgia tried to wash it out, but it stained. His mom is gonna be sooo mad.”

“Maybe.” Although if Connie knew Jeremy’s mother as well as she thought, she figured the woman was going to laugh herself silly. Far better than getting angry, in her experience. And Jeremy would have to live with the hair.

Connie stroked her daughter’s blond curls. “I’m glad you didn’t decide to paint yours. I like it the way it is.”