The Littlest Target. Maggie K. Black

so determined to tell him as little information as humanly possible, like she was slipping tiny scraps of it to him through the bars of a prison window.

      “We need to call this in and let police know that a woman is dead,” Max said as gently as he could.

      “They know,” she said. “It was on the news and I saw a police car fly past me as I was leaving.”

      Really, he couldn’t remember hearing about any murders on the radio and a murder tended to be at the top of the news. There’d been a major fire reported in Quebec. But nothing that had involved a baby or a murdered woman. He clenched his jaw and fought the urge to dig.

      WIN. The acronym he’d heard and used himself hundreds of times filled his mind. What’s Important Now.

      As fascinating as whatever murder mystery she was caught up in might be, it wasn’t the most important thing right now. The most important thing was convincing her to get in his vehicle and let him take them to safety. Prying was tempting. But prying would also probably spook her and the last thing he needed was for her to run.

      His arms crossed. Time to negotiate.

      “Well, Daisy. You want to get to the nearest town and to get a vehicle. I want to double-check that Fitz is okay and give you a ride—”

      “I also don’t want the police involved.” She cut him off. “Not until I’m convinced that I can trust them. Right now, all I know is that some cops want to hurt Fitz, and I don’t know which cops I can trust.”

      He ran his hand through his dark shaggy hair. “Would you talk to a trustworthy and honest cop?”

      “Yes, but when and how I do is a decision I get to make.”

      She was impossible. He had three cops in his family—Trent and his fiancée, Chloe, and his eldest brother, Jacob. Plus, his youngest brother, Nick, was in the military, which meant all four Henry brothers were in some form of uniformed lifesaving work. He pressed his lips together, debated telling her that and decided against it for fear it would spook her even worse.

      “Well, I have to call the accident in,” Max said. “What if someone else comes along and hits it? You think your boss wants you to leave his very expensive sports car wrecked at the side of the road?”

      “You think he wants me to risk his baby’s life for the sake of reporting a crashed car?” Her voice matched the volume of his. “He’s got plenty of cars. He’s only got one son!”

      Okay, maybe she had a point with that one. But Max was also pretty sure that her boss was a crook, which made her an accomplice to who knew what kind of crime. He ran his hand over the back of his neck. The frustration that burned there was less at her and more at Fitz’s father and Smith and whatever dishonest and crooked things they were involved in that had cost Fitz’s stepmother her life and had left Daisy out here alone, in the woods with a baby to protect.

      The wind grew sharper. Fitz’s whimpers turned to cries. Daisy leaned down and rocked him gently. Max could tell the baby was about to howl and was positive Daisy could tell that, too.

      He ran his hand over his jaw and asked God to help him choose his words carefully.

      “Look, you’re obviously in trouble,” he said, “and I obviously want to help. I’ve got a vehicle. It’s plenty warm and comfortable. If you let me give you a ride to the next town, I promise I won’t call 911, try to take you to a police station or pry anymore into your life. My responsibility is to make sure you’re both okay, no matter your story. Now, please, will you let me do my job and help you?”

      * * *

      Silent prayers filled Daisy’s heart, even as she could feel it beating like a drum. He had no idea how tempting his offer was, how long the last hours of driving had dragged on her limbs and just how much she wanted to be somewhere safe, away from the cold and the fear.

      But she couldn’t let her guard down. Smith had somehow found her and the fact that he’d also somehow got his hand on a police vehicle didn’t do much to sway her concerns about Gerry’s warning not to trust the cops. Plus, when she’d grabbed her bag and Fitz’s car seat out of the wrecked remains of Gerry’s smashed car, she’d found a brand-new prepaid burner cell phone and two envelopes of hundred-dollar bills that she guessed totaled at least a few grand on the floor of the back seat. She’d grabbed the phone on impulse in case anything happened to the one Gerry had given her and had stuffed the cash in her rucksack, figuring she’d need some money to take care of Fitz. It had been a split-second decision she’d made without thinking. Now, that the world was quiet again she wondered if it’d been the right one.

      Could a burner phone be traced like a regular cell phone could? The phone looked like it had never even been activated. Would using it be more or less safe than using the phone Gerry had given her? She had no idea.

      Max was still staring at her, waiting for her to say something. Her eyes roamed over him as if searching for answers to questions she couldn’t even think to ask.

      He was tall with broad shoulders and arms that hinted he was able to carry a lot more weight than his slender build implied. His dark hair was soaked with sweat, slightly messy and curling just a little at his neck. His blue paramedic uniform radiated reassurance and authority.

      But then again, so had all the uniforms of the men who’d stood in her living room and listened to her stepfather’s lies, while he denied he’d ever lost his temper and hit anyone, pressured her mom to say she was clumsy and branded Daisy hysterical.

      Daisy’s eyes met Max’s again. They were green, with a look in their depths that spoke of protection, security and warmth. Suddenly she realized she was holding the scissors so loosely he could’ve probably knocked them from her fingers and taken it at any time. Her grip tightened. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I will not let you hurt Fitz.”

      “Understood,” he said. “I just want to take a look at him to make sure he’s okay. He looks fine from here but I won’t know for sure until I can take a more thorough look. Let’s start by walking back to my vehicle where the light is better. Then we can stand and argue there if you’d like. Judging by the look of the accident, the state of the car seat and his type of cry, I’m pretty sure he’s not injured. But I still need to check.”

      She felt her lips curl into a smile again. He had this way of talking that her aunt would have referred to disparagingly as “a bit of cheek.” But it wasn’t rude. Not at all. It was more like he was constantly trying to lighten the mood just enough to reassure her that she didn’t have to be afraid. It was comforting.

      “Okay. Just don’t try anything funny.” She straightened her rucksack on one shoulder, slid the scissors into her belt and picked up Fitz’s car seat with the opposite hand.

      Max reached to pick up the flashlight and she saw the curve of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

      She followed him back through the woods to his paramedic vehicle. Max ran the light over the back of it. The right rear fender looked like a giant hand had punched it.

      “I’m sorry,” she said. “I can give you some money to cover repairs and to pay for gas.”

      “Please don’t worry about it,” he said. “Now, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to double-check that Fitz is every bit as healthy as we both think he is.”

      She nodded and set the car seat down. She hadn’t managed to salvage the toy boat Gerry had thoughtfully bought his son. But Fitz had somehow managed to pull the soft yellow fabric sail off and now clutched it to his cheek like a blanket. “Max is going to take a quick look at you and make sure you’re okay. Nothing to worry about.”

      She wasn’t sure if she was reassuring Fitz or herself. Either way, she stepped back and watched as he approached, crouched down and gently brushed his fingers along Fitz’s pudgy limbs. Fitz looked up at Max. His huge baby blue eyes filled with wonderment. Yeah, she knew how he felt.

      “You’re okay,