Protected Secrets. Heather Woodhaven

miss Raymond, too, you know,” the officer said.

      She nodded but didn’t reply. Bruce wondered if the words that hinted at tragedy explained her aloof demeanor toward him and Winnie. Not that it really mattered. He didn’t need Delaney to care about him and his daughter—he just needed her to protect them, as she’d said she would. But was that a promise she’d keep? Words didn’t mean much compared to action.

      His wife had promised so much, but she still left him and Winnie without a second glance. His stepbrother had written his company’s mission statement and promised to be his partner, but he’d quit and run to the Cayman Islands six months ago. No, promises really didn’t mean much.

      Delaney turned in her seat to face him, an impressive feat given the high-speed turns. “The Marshals are alerting the Assistant US Attorney to what’s happened. The interview will be rescheduled.”

      “I can’t even think of testifying at the moment.”

      “So don’t think about it. For now.”

      The radio crackled but Bruce couldn’t make out what was said.

      “Did something happen?”

      “Not necessarily. Deputy Marshal Jackson still hasn’t checked in, so we’re going to proceed with caution.” Delaney pointed to the left, and the cruiser stopped at the sun-bleached pink house. The last two days had felt like a living nightmare. He’d worked so hard to maintain a positive attitude and believe that everything would work out, only to walk straight into a trap.

      “Stay here,” Delaney hollered. She jumped out of the vehicle at the same time as the officer.

      “That’s not happening.” Bruce reached for the car handle but found there was none. He pounded the seat in frustration. Another police vehicle pulled up at the opposite street corner, and two more cops rushed toward the house.

      Delaney held her weapon up and gestured at the other officers to go around the building. A male voice shouted, “Officer down,” and Bruce groaned. Someone had definitely found the safe house. Please, let Winnie be okay. He searched desperately for another way out of the police vehicle, but there was nothing to do but watch.

      Delaney squatted low to the ground and entered the house. Bruce strained his eyes, hoping he could somehow see past the house’s grimy windows and blinds. Sirens sounded in the distance. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t let himself blink. He should be inside there, protecting his daughter.

      An officer sauntered toward the cruiser that was holding him prisoner. Bruce clenched his jaw, wanting to yell at him to speed up. The officer reached his hand out and the door trapping him in the back seat finally swung open.

      “The Deputy Marsh—”

      Bruce vaulted out of the car into a sprint, past the officer. He vaguely heard the man shout but didn’t care what was being said. Right now, the only thing that mattered was Winnie. An ambulance siren’s wail grew closer.

      He barreled into the house, squinting in the dim light. Another deputy, Francine, was on the ground, limp but conscious. A cop held her wrist while looking at his watch to count her pulse.

      Delaney stepped out of a bedroom. Her arms cradled Winnie, her head bent over his daughter, as if in a cuddle. Bruce’s insides fought between icy cold and raging heat at the sight.

      She glided forward, her steps soft and rhythmic, across the room, whispering, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” One of Winnie’s arms wrapped around the back of Delaney’s neck while the other clung tightly to Lovey. “Winnie, your daddy is here.”

      Winnie lifted her head and twisted to look. She blinked twice and smiled at Bruce, then rested her head back on Delaney’s chest.

      “She was still sleeping,” Delaney whispered. “Had no idea anything happened.” Her eyes glistened with a layer of unshed tears and once again Bruce didn’t know what to think or feel about this mysterious woman.

      He reached for Winnie. His daughter, almost reluctantly, let go of Delaney and curled up against his chest. “Honey, are you okay?”

      She nodded and rubbed the remaining aftereffects of sleep away.

      Delaney stepped closer. “Someone got the jump on them. Knocked out the marshals but didn’t touch Winnie.”

      Bruce crumpled onto the couch. He hung his head over Winnie’s shoulder and, despite the determination to stay calm, his chest shook and his breath caught. He could’ve lost her. He so easily could’ve lost her.

      Winnie tilted her chin and Bruce stared into her blue eyes and reined in control. Was there a way he could give up and keep her safe? If he didn’t testify, would the threat disappear?

      “I appreciate that you stayed calm today,” Delaney said.

      He didn’t look up. He couldn’t yet. “If you lock me in the back of a car again...” He let his voice trail off, unwilling to voice exactly what he was thinking in front of his daughter, but hoping his tone conveyed what he meant. He wouldn’t let her keep him away from Winnie again.

      But even by his side, could he keep his little girl safe? Could he ever take Winnie with him on a jog and count dogs in the neighborhood without flinching at every car that rounded the corner? Would they be able to return home and step out onto the deck to watch fireflies without him shining a spotlight on every tree that surrounded the property first?

      The image of the men with guns shooting bullets into the SUV played on a loop. His blood pounded hot and fast through his veins. Giving in would only provide the illusion of safety. They would still be out there, watching. They could treat him, his daughter and anyone else like puppets whenever they wanted. Good men like Max would still die at their hands.

      The rage continued to build behind his eyes. He would do whatever it took to put a stop to them. He slowly met Delaney’s gaze. “How do we end this?”

      * * *

      Delaney’s mouth went dry at his question. Winnie clutched her Lovey in one hand while her other hand twirled a lock of hair. Delaney did that whenever she was stressed or bored, too. Was that common in toddlers? Movement to the right caught her attention.

      Two paramedics filled the doorway. The taller one nodded at Delaney. “We’ve got one of the deputies ready for transport.”

      She supplied his name. “Deputy Jim Lewis.”

      The medic pointed to Francine. “We can take you on that ambulance, too, ma’am. In the meantime, anyone else we need to look at?”

      Francine flicked her wrist. “I don’t need it. I’m going to be fine.”

      “Wait,” Delaney said. “You might not need an ambulance, but we do.” She held up a hand to stop the concerned paramedics. “I don’t mean we’re injured. For logistic reasons, I need you to hang back for a second.”

      Delaney pointed at Bruce. “Right now the main priority is to get you somewhere safe without being tracked. You said hackers can follow our vehicles if they know the point of origin, so we need to make sure they think we’re still here. At least for a little while.” She felt a pressure on her chest and realized she’d kept a hand over her heart, in the place where Winnie had rested her head moments ago.

      “What do you have in mind?” Francine asked. She accepted an ice pack from the paramedic and rested it on the back of her head.

      “Bruce and Winnie will take your place on the stretcher, covered up.” She squatted slightly to meet the toddler’s eyes. “Can you be real still next to your daddy and pretend you’re sleeping?”

      Winnie pulled her left shoulder up until it met her ear in a cute shrug. “No.” She smiled, but her eyes made it clear she had no intention of cooperating.

      Well. There went that idea, replaced with a sizable dose of reality. Delaney knew nothing about children.

      Bruce