Duty To Defend

A door to her left opened, and a petite, middle-aged woman with graying hair emerged, several file folders in the crook of one arm. According to the label on the door, this person was the director.

“You must be Daci Marlowe,” the woman said, stretching out her free hand. “I’m Naomi Minch, and my staff graciously allows me to believe I run this joyful madhouse.”

Daci smiled as she shook the director’s hand. She was well on her way to liking her temporary boss. This day was actually getting off to a good start.

“Here,” she said, and handed Naomi the sack holding her gun. “You know where to put this. I’ll collect it after hours.”

The director grimaced and accepted the bag gingerly. She hustled into her office and returned in a few moments, minus the bag.

A whoosh and rush of fresh air behind Daci announced someone coming in the front door. Jax? A little early for legal aid to arrive, but... Daci turned to face the newcomer, and her welcoming smile faded into openmouthed amazement. Dismay might be a better term. Somebody please tell her this person was not her assignment.

The garishly made-up woman’s anxious gaze darted from Naomi to Daci and back again. “I’m on time somewhere for once, aren’t I?”

“Of course, Serena,” Naomi answered kindly.

The woman wriggled her whole curvy body like a puppy who’d been praised. “Wow! Cool!”

Naomi stepped forward. “I’d like you to meet another new employee. Serena, this is Daci. Daci, this is Serena. You’ll both be working with our infants.”

“Hi.” Serena’s purple-painted lips curved into a smile, and she waggled a set of fingers at Daci.

The sharply filed nails were painted a brilliant shade of magenta sprinkled with glittery spangles. Those would have to go. As Daci lifted a hand in return greeting, she resisted glancing at her own neatly trimmed fingernails.

Surely, it wouldn’t be her responsibility to instruct the young woman in grooming details, as well as the nitty-gritty of childcare. The task would challenge a professional makeover expert. Short, stiffly spiked hair sported streaks of hot pink between puffs of artificial yellow, sticking out like sheaves of wheat straw. Distressed jeans and the multicolored blouse that hung off one shoulder screamed wannabe teenager rather than twenty-three-year-old mother.

Daci stifled a deep groan. Classic! Addiction stunted the natural maturing process. She understood that concept better than most people on the planet, but bitter experience had left her cold toward the addict caught up in the phenomenon.

“Come on, ladies.” Naomi motioned them deeper into the building. “Let me show you the infant rooms, and I’ll introduce you to the lead teacher for that age group. Then we can issue your staff polo shirts we want you to wear every day at work.”

Daci resisted the urge to wipe imaginary sweat from her brow. One fashion change would be taken care of without her having to add it to her already brimming plateful. She followed the day care director, dragging heavy chains of doubt about her ability to pull off the assignment of chumming with a recovering addict.

* * *

Jax leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and watched Daci interact with a one-year-old on the nursery floor. Since her back was to him, and she was engaged with the little girl, Daci hadn’t noticed his entrance. Her inattention to him suited Jax fine—it gave him an opportunity to observe this fascinating woman when she had no reason to be self-conscious.

He’d spent longer than he’d be willing to confess researching her online last night. He gave himself the excuse that he needed a solid sense of the background and experiences of his colleague, which was only part of the reason for his interest—maybe the smaller part. His discoveries had astonished him. Daci, more than most, had a web presence that had nothing to do with social media. In fact, as far as he could tell, she didn’t participate in social media at all, and he didn’t blame her. The professional media had already hurt her enough.

Their documented history of Candace “Daci” Marlowe gave fresh meaning to the term “poor little rich girl.” Not that anybody looking at her understated grooming and attire would ever guess that her personal resources could put her in with the jet set rather than the workaday world. No doubt, her parents’ antics had soured her on empty glitz and glamour, but she could have easily chosen a quiet life, out of the spotlight, without putting herself in danger. Why choose a career in law enforcement? Had witnessing her grandmother’s murder left her with a score to settle with the bad guys of the world?

As much as he’d discovered in his research, Jax still had a lot of questions about Ms. Marlowe. It was anyone’s guess whether she’d offer him any answers, and he had reasons of his own for not pressing for that level of intimacy, despite his attraction to her. He’d have to force himself to rein in his need-to-know mind. Easier said than done.

“Ja-ax!” Serena’s singsong voice made two syllables of his name.

He turned to find the young woman scurrying up to him, bright red lips pulled wide in a grin. Jax stiffened, then ordered himself to relax.

Last time Serena had rushed toward him like that had been in court when he’d successfully argued not to allow Chase to be placed with her until she’d proved herself capable of remaining sober. She hadn’t been happy with him in that moment and had used vivid language to clue him in on her feelings. At least it had only been words. He’d thought she was going to use those nails on his face.

“Hello, Serena,” he said as she invaded his personal space.

Despite her tendency to overpaint herself, she was a pretty woman, and with sobriety, the health of her personal appearance had steadily improved—eyes clear not bloodshot, cheeks filled out rather than gaunt, and interesting hair clean rather than lank with grease and neglect. “You’re looking well today.”

She wriggled at the compliment. “I feel good, and I’m doing real good. Everything’s perfect, except...” The smile abruptly fell away, and a pout took its place.

“Except what?” Jax rose to the bait.

“Chase isn’t here today.” Daci supplied the answer as she came to stand with them.

His breathing hitched. “Where is he?”

“Those foster parents of his called him in sick,” Serena said. “I think they’re making up excuses. Like, how am I supposed to bond with my son and learn how to care for him if they keep him away from me?”

“You don’t trust people much, do you?”

“Why should I?” Serena crossed her arms over her chest. “All my life, people have done nothing but mess with me.”

A troubled expression flitted across Daci’s face, and she laid a hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “I get that sentiment totally, but it really is against the rules to bring a sick child to day care.”

“Ja-ax.” Serena gazed into his eyes and smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket with her palms. “Would you please check on my baby for me?”

He took a half step backward. “I can do that.”

Poor Serena. Her life experiences so full of certain types of men had her thinking that any request made to a man had to be based on sex appeal in order to get his agreement. No doubt, her counselors were working with her in this area, but it took a while to overcome deeply ingrained mind-sets.

“Oh, thank you!” Serena folded her hands together. “Like, as long as I tell myself his foster parents are making stuff up, I can be mad, but if my little boy really is sick, then I’m going to be sad. I need to know. You know?”

“I think Mr....er, Jax gets it,” Daci said, sticking out her hand toward him. “Daci Marlowe, teacher’s assistant.”

Jax didn’t miss a beat in shaking her hand. If Daci were to have a chance at gaining Serena’s trust, it was important the young mother not be aware that Daci and he were previously acquainted. Serena Farnam had a highly developed sense of paranoia that would wreak instant havoc if she thought people were conspiring behind her back, even if it was for her own good.

“Jaxton Williams, juvenile rights attorney.”

“You must represent young Chase,” Daci said. “Serena’s been telling me about her situation.” She sent a kind smile toward the younger woman. “It’s got to be tough.”

Serena’s intense expression lightened. “Yeaaaah.” She breathed out long and low, as if such simple understanding meant the world to her.

An infant in a nearby crib began fussing, and Serena turned toward the sound. “I’ll get him. These babies are so cu-u-ute!” She practically skipped away.

Daci’s gaze followed the younger woman, a small frown on her lips. Jax cleared his throat, and she met his look.

“Since Chase isn’t here, I’d like to see little Annie Brown and speak to her caregiver.”

Daci smiled. “That would be me today. Follow me to the changing room, and I’ll talk with you while I change her diaper. She crawled past me a few minutes ago, while I was finishing up with another child, and I thought she smelled a bit ripe.”

At Jax’s low groan, her smile morphed into a smirk as she scooped Annie up.

“Do you provide nose plugs?” Jax followed her toward a side room.

“Wimp,” she said under her breath.

“I heard that.”

Daci’s answering chuckle warmed Jax from the ground up. She laid the child on the changing table and tickled the little girl’s plump belly. Annie giggled and kicked.

“Hold still, sweet stuff.” Daci began the changing process.

Jax stood rooted, staring, his heart shredding into tiny pieces. He’d visited this day care before, watched other babies being changed—though maybe not from this close up—but this moment was starkly different. Daci didn’t look a thing like Regan, and if their daughter had been born, she would have been much older than Annie, almost ready for kindergarten, but something about the way Daci moved, the expression on her face, the tone of her voice as she spoke to the little one hit him like brass knuckles with fresh realization of what he had lost. A deep groan wrenched his gut.

Daci’s head turned sharply. “Are you all right, Jax? You look like the Red Cross took the last pint of your blood.”

He blinked down hard against the wet sting behind his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Or I will be.” He opened his eyes to find her holding the little girl, who had gone limp and was sucking her thumb.

“Did you really have some questions about Annie, or did you need an excuse to talk to me?”

“Both.” Get a grip, Williams. “When you changed her, did you notice any bruises?”

“No, just healthy baby bottom.”

“Good.” Jax smiled. “That’s what I expected to hear. Annie had a rough start in a toxic environment, but the dad has custody now, and she’s been thriving. This was basically a final follow-up visit.”

“Aren’t these kinds of visits more social services territory?”

“Sure, but that department is spread so thin they’re more than happy to enlist the help of a nonprofit like ours to pick up the slack. I’ll write up my report, and they’ll put it in their file. At the next court date, Annie will likely be released from the system into the mainstream. We call that a success story.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Daci held the child toward him, and he received the warm bundle. The girl stared at him for a few blinks, then laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“She likes you and trusts you.”

“I like her, too.” He gazed down at the head of wispy brown hair.

“You’re a natural. Any little Williamses at home?”

“No, not married anymore.” Jax grimaced. “That’s a story for another time. I need to get going and stop at Chase’s foster home. How are you doing with Serena?”

“You saw.” Daci rippled her shoulders. “She may be sober, but she’s still a hot mess. I’ve stuck close to her all day and have begun to believe she genuinely wants to be a good mother to her son, but she’s so pathetically clueless about what that entails.”

“Contrary to her airhead demeanor, which I suspect is an ingrained facade to make her seem no threat to the predators in her environment, testing has shown she’s bright. She’s also motivated. She’ll learn. No sign of our target?”

“Nary a one. Though I don’t suppose he’s going to announce his presence beforehand.”

“He might call or text Serena.”

“Workers here can’t use cell phones except on break. Following her to the break room when I’m supposed to be on duty would be irresponsible in regard to the children, and it would look suspicious to Serena, but I’ve kept close watch to see if she exhibits any nervousness when she comes back on duty. I don’t think she’d be able to hide her reaction if he reached out to her. Even if she believes he doesn’t know she betrayed him, anyone would get the willies if contacted by an escaped felon. Besides, the Marshals Service is monitoring her cell communications.”

“Do you have a plan to get into her circle of friends?”

Daci’s expression clouded. “I’m going to express interest in attending an addiction-recovery meeting. If she accepts me as one who understands her issues, I should be a shoo-in.”

“Sounds like a great plan to me, but you don’t look happy about it.”

“This is a world I thought I escaped. I’m not eager to revisit it.”

“Understood. Hopefully, Naylor will be in custody again soon, and you can move on to a new assignment.”

“One more thing, I want to apologize for leaving you abruptly yesterday. I’m not usually so touchy.”

“No problem. It was an unsettling day.”

Daci smiled up at him. “I appreciate your patience.”

He made himself turn away before he blurted out an invitation to revisit their canceled meal plan. Dating Daci was out of the question.

A few minutes later, little Annie had been tucked into a crib with her favorite blankie, and Jax was on the road. The visit at Chase’s foster home was brief, but it confirmed the little guy was recovering from a cold. His foster parents thought he would be able to return to day care in the morning. Jax called Naomi at Little Blessings with the update and asked that the message be passed along to Serena. Then he headed downtown to his office and worked a few hours on court filings and briefs.

When the clock had finally crept past the time for Daci and Serena’s shift to end, he called Daci’s cell. She answered after two rings.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“At the office, updating DC Reynolds on our activities today. He told me the woman I knocked over in the crosswalk yesterday was treated and released. No bones broken.”

“I’m thankful for that. Just wondering if you wanted to join me for a drive-by of Serena’s apartment building. Maybe do a little recon of the area, too.”

A brief chuckle answered him. “Been there, done that. Plus, I’m picking Serena up at her place at six thirty. We’re attending a recovery meeting together tonight.”

Jax let out a low whistle. “Fast work, rookie!”

She snorted. Odd how even that gruff sound was attractive coming from her.

“Not hard,” she said, “with someone so needy for human companionship and approval.”

“What’s the address of the meeting? I’d like to hang around outside and watch for either our mutual friend or a go-between who might want to contact Serena outside of her workplace or residence.”

“Good idea.” Daci rattled off the address.

“What do you drive, so I’ll know which vehicle is yours?”

“I’ve got a blue Volkswagen GTI. Blurs the line between sporty and utilitarian. Just the way I like it.” She laughed.

Jax grinned as they ended the call. He’d expected at least a Lexus, if not a Mercedes, but a VW? She’d certainly pulled off the balance between maintaining her average-income profile with the flair of something slightly off the beaten path.

Two hours later, Jax parked up the block from Bethany Church in south Springfield, where the recovery meeting was being held. He had arrived early to monitor Daci and Serena’s approach. If anyone was following them, he would spot the tail. He popped open the door on the glove compartment of his Malibu, took out his Glock 19 and checked the load.

Lying beneath the gun, his temporary marshal’s badge caught his eye. Slowly, he hefted it in one palm, testing the familiar weight. Running the pad of his thumb across the gold star and embossed eagle, memories rushed through him. Hissing in a breath, he flung the badge back into the glove compartment and slammed it shut.

He lifted his gaze to find a shiny blue GTI turning the corner and approaching the church. The vehicle drove toward him, then entered the parking lot that was already filling up with those attending the meeting. Jax scanned the area for vehicles slowing down in surveillance mode or parked cars with occupants that seemed to be watching the church like he was. Nada.

He settled back in his seat for a bit of a wait. When the meeting was over, he was going to follow them back to Serena’s apartment. Her part of town wasn’t a good area to be in after dark. Not a good place to raise a child, either, but a rough neighborhood wouldn’t be sufficient reason to deny Serena her son if she met the court-ordered criteria for custody. And at the moment, it was the best she could afford. Sometimes a person had to pick his battles.

The two hours until the meeting let out reminded Jax of how much he’d hated stakeout duty. At last, people began emerging from the church, Daci and Serena in the mix. Jax started his car, but let the VW get on up the road before he pulled out to follow. A few other vehicles from the meeting stayed with them for a while, but eventually, they all turned elsewhere.

Within twenty minutes, Daci pulled over near a corner lamppost in front of Serena’s complex. Jax stopped at the curb on the opposite side of the street and watched as Daci got out with her charge. Had she already wangled an invitation up to Serena’s apartment?

No, Serena stopped at the curb and seemed to be saying good-night. Daci lifted a hand in farewell and turned away as Serena went into her apartment building. Jax reached to put the Malibu in gear, then froze as a rust-bucket van cruised up the street and stopped in the middle of the road parallel with the VW. Jax’s hair stood on end, every instinct screaming that Daci was in danger. He lunged for the gun in his glove compartment as the heavy rat-a-tat-tat of automatic weapon fire shredded the night.

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