Guardian Angel

He was neither. He was just a man with a mission.

Bailey provided an update on the Fear Factor case, which proved nothing more than a rehash of what the public already knew. Zilch. He reassured those within his jurisdiction that the Bureau would do all within its power to protect their children.

Nothing Nathan hadn’t heard before.

He almost changed the channel, but then a new face captured his attention.

The young woman was introduced as Ann Martin, no federal or local law enforcement rank included. He hadn’t seen her before. Luxurious long blond hair. Distracting green eyes. She stepped up to the microphone, looking a little nervous, and launched into a lengthy discussion of how important it was to generate community support during a time such as this. Even with her voice shaking ever so slightly, her words carried far more meaning than the words of those who had spoken before her. As she plowed onward with her statement to the press, the scope of her assertions went beyond the Duncan case, beyond the missing children in the Fear Factor case. She spoke with conviction, with fierce determination on how the parents of those children suffered.

His instincts roused further, pushing aside the warm alcohol haze he’d accomplished with the bourbon.

It wasn’t so much the words she said that held his attention. It was the explosive passion with which she spoke. As if she understood the horrendous fear the parents suffered. As if she could feel the pain of the children.

As if…she had personal experience.

He leaned forward…reached out and touched the screen as she hammered away at her audience—an audience of more than just the folks she wanted to reassure. She was speaking to those who committed crimes against children. She was speaking to him.

A surge of excitement flowed through his veins.

He traced the outline of her face, felt a knowing smile twist his lips.

“You know, don’t you?”

And then she did the last thing he expected. She asked for his help. Rattled off a number he should call anytime, day or night.

“Ann Martin.” He inclined his head and studied her face as she thanked the audience and the press. “What are you up to?”

Chapter Five

Baltimore City Hall 6:40 p.m.

The press had finally started to filter out of the lobby. Dozens of agents and police officers lingered, discussing the case, talking about the good old days. This one had been an all-employees press conference—Bureau personnel as well as every uniform available. The powers that be had wanted a show of force. They’d gotten their wish.

Ann tried to act interested in the discussion she’d been dragged into by a former colleague, but one thought kept pounding in her brain: she had to get out of here. Now.

The overwhelming sense of doom had started to press in around her a mere sixty seconds after she’d walked away from the podium, following furiously on the heels of the raging adrenaline that had taken complete control of her brain the second she opened her mouth in front of the cameras. She should never have let herself get so worked up. When she’d started to launch her statement, simple and to the point, something had gone wrong. She’d gone off on a damned tangent, and years of buried history had spewed forth as if she’d lost total influence over her tongue.

Dread congealed in her gut. God, she’d lost it completely. On camera, at that. The whole city—the nation—had been watching. It would be a miracle if she was allowed anywhere near the peope press conference had been conducted. The Bureau would be outraged and Victoria Colby-Camp would be utterly confused. Where was the cool, controlled investigator she had hired? That would be merely one of many questions Victoria would ask herself. j

“Good job, Martin.” Bailey patted her arm. “I liked the passion you put behind your plea. I’m certain there wasn’t anyone watching who didn’t feel it.”

She managed a rigid smile in spite of the shock his words evoked. “Thank you, sir.”

“Publicly appealing to the Guardian Angel was a stroke of genius,” Bailey added. “We need that vigilante off the streets.”

Somehow Ann managed to hold that stiff expression in place while he congratulated her once more. When SAC Bailey had moved on to interface with far more distinguished guests, she sucked in a shaky breath. Maybe she hadn’t blown it completely. Maybe she hadn’t gone off track as badly as she’d thought. Time would certainly tell.

Lewis appeared next to her. He grinned. “You had the crowd mesmerized.”

“Thanks.” That dread she’d felt thickening in her stomach started to churn in spite of the compliments. Her palms had begun to sweat. She needed to get out of here before the symptoms became visible. “You know…” She struggled to keep her voice even as she spoke. “I think I’ll call it a day.” She looked around for the best escape route. She wanted out of here without running into anyone from the press…or anyone else, for that matter. She hadn’t even checked in to her hotel yet.

As if reading her mind, Lewis angled his head to the right. “They keep the west corridor closed off during these things. Go that way and you won’t have to worry about being chased by the press.”

She nodded jerkily. “Good idea.”

Thank God Lewis headed off another agent who called her name. Ann walked as fast as she could without breaking into a dead run. She gulped in another deep breath, tried to hold it as long as possible before releasing. Deep breath, hold, release. It was supposed to work. Wasn’t doing any good this time, though.

As Lewis had said, the west corridor was blocked off, but the guard recognized her and allowed her to pass. She saw the exit doors in the distance, but somehow they kept getting farther and farther away.

No matter how fast she walked, she just wasn’t getting closer.

Her heart thundered, racing for a finish line only her hysteria recognized. Her skin felt cold and damp. Bile rose into her throat.

Oh, God.

Ladies’ room on her right.

She glanced behind her. No one coming. She ducked into the ladies’ room and braced her trembling body against the wall.

Slow, deep breaths.

The ragged sounds echoed as if she were suffering from an asthma attack.

Slowly inhale. Count to ten. Slowly exhale.

She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Ordered herself to stop fighting the terror…to roll with it and let it pass. Her fingers clenched, but she consciously unclenched them. Relax. Calm down. Deep breaths.

Her heart thudded so hard she could barely hear for the blood roaring in her ears. Her limbs tingled as if they’d gone to sleep with her standing up.

The pressure on her chest increased, felt like a ton of bricks stacked one by one until she couldn’t breathe. Fear wrapped around her every thought, wouldn’t let go.

Relax, Ann. Just relax.

She’d been through this before. But it had been years. She reminded herself she wasn’t in actual danger. All she had to do was reclaim control, calm down and let this thing go.

Four whole years. She hadn’t had a full-blown panic attack in four years.

“Damn it.”

That first case she’d consulted on for the Bureau she’d suffered an episode, but she’d caught it in time, had headed it off. No one had been the wiser when it was over. But this…this had sneaked up on her.

Today she’d lost all control.

Today the adrenaline had taken over.

She knew the cause. She’d suffered with panic attacks for a dozen years. But then, her last year of graduate school, they’d abruptly stopped. Granted, she’d worked hard to recognize the aura before the full-blown attack hit, but her life had done a major turnaround and that had been the significant factor in moving past those debilitating episodes.

She’d taken charge of her life.

No way was she going to let the irrational fear take over again. Not now. She’d only just gotten started in her new career. This was right where she wanted to be. She had to regain full authority over her emotions.

Starting this minute.

She pushed away from the wall and took a moment to splash cold water on her face. Her reflection told her just how much power this episode had wielded. Even now the terror lingered in her eyes, attempted to steal the air right out of her lungs.

“You have to be stronger than this. Don’t let those old demons back in.”

Squaring her shoulders, she looked again, deep into those jade eyes she’d inherited from her father. There was her confidence. It hadn’t deserted her. This case had tipped the scales against her, but that wasn’t what had started this whole plunge into the past.

It was those damned reports about the Guardian Angel. He had haunted her dreams for weeks now, though she had refused to admit it. She’d tried to block the crazy fixation developing, but she’d lost that battle. On a purely intellectual level she understood her interest in this so-called hero. But on all other levels she resented his intrusion into her life.

He represented the loss of hope and the major disappointment that motivated far too many of the fears she had suffered so long ago; all that he stood for fueled the bitterness she still felt at times even now. None of which was completely rational.

“No living in the past,” she told the woman looking back at her. “No obsessing. No fear. Encounter, learn, overcome.”

That was her motto. Life wasn’t always kind. But she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered. Not by a long shot. In fact, she was damned lucky to have survived the worst fate had thrown in her path.

All she had to do was remember her motto. No matter how bad things got as she adjusted to the evolving demands of her new career path. No matter how terrifying the case she was assigned. She could handle anything that came her way.

Encounter, learn, overcome.

It was the only way to defeat the demons.

Past and present.

It was the only way to move on.

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