Justice Undercover Page 3

  “I love kids.” She put the rest of the cookies on the plate. “Sorry. Stress eating. I’d like to go home early if it’s okay. I know the sergeant said he might drop by later. Can I go if I promise to answer my phone?”

  “I’m sure Jamison wouldn’t mind, but I’ll text him to be sure.”

  He would’ve preferred her to stay, but he didn’t blame her. His parents lived forty minutes away and his only neighbor was a single twenty-five-year-old guy that liked to drink and throw parties a couple of nights a week. Hence, the reason for a nanny. Kylie had already stayed late several times this month. It made it so much easier to have help with the kids. “Go ahead. I’ve got this.”

  She stood. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.”

  “Call me if you need anything. I took meat loaf out of the freezer.” She indicated the glass dish on the counter. “I’ll put it in the oven and set the timer.”

  “Thanks.” Luke stared after Kylie as she walked out the door. What would he do without her? The memory of her fighting off the attacker at the zoo and then her witnessing the same man being shot in the store parking lot flashed through his mind, making his gut tighten. He was fortunate she hadn’t quit today. One thing was certain. If there were any more threats, he’d probably find himself without Kylie as his nanny. And he just wasn’t ready for that.

  * * *

  Kylie checked her rearview mirror after she pulled out of Luke’s drive. Her nerves were still on edge after Sergeant Jamison questioned her. Had he recognized her? He stared at her, but that was normal when someone was speaking to you. After the explosion that killed the Coffey family, Kylie had hidden out for days before creating a new identity and seeking medical attention. She had been tempted to go to her boss, the assistant director of the US Marshals, and tell him what had really happened that cold morning she had survived Hal’s attack. That she had witnessed Hal look over his own handiwork as she lay clinging to life half buried in the debris. But how had someone found her witness? Surely there wasn’t a mole in the Marshals. But Hal had money and was a powerful man. Someone must’ve tipped him off. But who? The thought of a coworker betraying the department was unfathomable. Confused and scared, she had decided to go rogue undercover until she could learn more.

  Being a Deputy US Marshal had taught her how easy it was to create a new identity. Without any inside help, though, and new procedures that made it increasingly difficult to pass false documents, Kylie had been forced to claim an unused identity she had in her files that had been created for a witness months prior to the explosion. Her back still bore the scars from the heinous act that should’ve taken her life. After months of physical therapy, and with the use of hair dye and colored contacts, she went from a brown-eyed brunette with a pixie cut, to a blue-eyed ash-blonde with a blowout style. The longer length and swept bangs sometimes got in the way, but definitely helped conceal more of her features.

  A vehicle appeared in her rearview mirror but was too far back to identify what model.

  Her tiny RV was only a few miles from Luke’s place. Having to move often, the camper was simply more convenient and fit in her limited budget. If she had to relocate, she could do so quickly without breaking any long-term lease or having to put down hefty deposits.

  A check in her mirror again showed the vehicle behind her was an emerald-green minivan.

  She kept her eye on the vehicle even though it didn’t appear to be a threat, but she circled the block just to be sure. The van kept going straight on the highway.

  Finally, she pulled into Wildwood RV Park and drove to the last lane, where her camper was. She had also rented the space next to hers so some bulky, long motor home wouldn’t move in and block her view of the rest of the park. As she stepped out of the Jeep, the sounds of explosions and gunfire blared from a nearby television. On the other side of the park, a dog yapped. Everything else was quiet.

  Grabbing her Glock, keys and purse, she walked up the stone pathway. The ceramic frog she’d put in front of the glass door was still in place. She went inside and continued her normal routine of putting her purse on the counter, and with her cell and Glock in hand, proceeded to check out the small trailer. Nothing had been disturbed.

  She set her weapon on the kitchen counter, clicked on the television and flipped to a local news station. The national evening news was airing, and the local news would come on in thirty-five minutes. That didn’t give her much time. She quickly changed into jogging shorts and headed to the small exercise room in the clubhouse. Two older-model treadmills faced a huge glass wall that allowed a fantastic view of the front entrance to the park. She stepped on the closest machine and warmed up for only a minute before she turned it up. In no time, she was running at a fast pace.

  Stress did two things to her—made her hungry for something sweet and eager to work out.

  Thirteen minutes later, she had run two miles and was dripping with sweat. Her pulse raced, and she had to catch her breath before chugging some water. As she threw the paper cup into the trash, she noticed a red Dodge Charger pull into the park. Standing to the side of the window, she watched the vehicle ease down the rock drive to her street. Tinted windows kept her from seeing if a man or woman drove the car. The Charger stopped, but then a few seconds later continued on.

  Keeping an eye on the vehicle as it exited the park, she hurried back to her camper and performed another walk-through before making a turkey-and-cheese sandwich. She grabbed a bottle of water, hit Record on the television in case she wanted to view the coverage later and settled in her recliner just as the news came on. A video of police cars at the dollar store flashed across the screen. Of course, it would be the top news story. A young, pretty reporter by the name of Elizabeth Anne looked pleased to be on the segment. She pointed to the Tahoe surrounded by yellow tape while narrating the account, and then the camera cut to the sergeant in front of her Jeep. At first, all the view showed was the back end of the car, but as the camera zoomed in, there was Kylie hurrying around her vehicle to the driver’s side.

  Shock held her in place, as she was too stunned to breathe. No, this couldn’t have happened. She slammed her hand on the side of the recliner.

  Kylie had been careful for three years. Three years! She’d even taken it so seriously that when people were taking pictures on their cell phones—which was all the time—she would turn or hurry out of the way. She didn’t want to risk showing up on someone’s social-media page and have a stranger—or worse, someone from her past—recognize her.

  What if Hal, or one of his men, saw her?

  Would they come after her? Her family?

  Rewinding the news segment, she watched the shot again. And again. No, she didn’t think the view was clear enough for anyone to recognize her. She had kept her head down, and the only time the camera captured her face was as she went around the back of the bumper.

  She turned down the volume and put her dishes in the sink. As she was turning to go to her bedroom, something flashed across her window. She glanced out the blinds. The red Charger cruised by again.

  The sun was setting, and it would be dark soon. The car’s headlights weren’t on. It could be one of her neighbors, but her instincts told her no.

  She startled at the vibrating of her cell phone. As she continued to watch out the window, she glanced at the caller ID. Luke’s number. “Hello.”

  “Kylie, I wanted to let you know Sergeant Jamison is coming over in a bit to ask you more questions. I gave him as many answers as I could. It’s not uncommon for police to ask several rounds of questions.”

  She understood investigative work but didn’t say so. Rocky Creek was a couple of hours from Dallas where Hal was indicted, and the Rocky Creek PD would’ve had nothing to do with his investigation. There would be no reason the sergeant would recognize her any more than Luke would. But every occasion she spent time with anyone, law enforcement or not, she
was taking a chance.

  Should she tell Luke someone was driving around her place? What if a potential camper was checking out the park searching for a good spot? Moving to the other side of her RV, she looked out the west window. Dark pink from the setting sun silhouetted a small grove of pecan trees, but the road couldn’t be seen from here. Neither could the car.

  “Do we need to come over? I don’t mind.”

  “Please, keep the kids at home. Unless...”

  “Unless what?”

  She returned to the front window and movement caught her eye. A man with something clutched in his hands hunched down and disappeared behind her Jeep. The muscles in Kylie’s neck twitched. Justice. Integrity. Service. The US Marshals Service motto played through her mind just like when Assistant Director Seth Wheeler used to quote it before their team faced a threatening showdown. She retrieved her gun and made certain a bullet was in the chamber. Careful to stand to the side so that she wasn’t an easy target, she said, “Luke, somebody’s here. I don’t know—”

  A bright orange ball flashed. Before she could react, the window shattered, showering her with glass. Tiny shards stabbed her. Flames landed on her recliner and erupted into a massive fireball.

  Get out. All she could think was that she needed to get out.

  THREE

  “Kylie?” Fear gripped Luke as the line went dead. He ran back to the kids’ room. They were stirring from their naps, and he scooped them up. The thought of taking the twins with him made him uncomfortable, but what choice did he have? If he had anyone nearby, he’d ask them to watch the kids, but there was no one. Hence, the reason he’d hired Kylie.

  Zoe’s lip puckered as she began to cry.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Uncle Luke is taking you for a ride.” He turned off the oven with the meat loaf still inside and grabbed a handful of cookies and the diaper bags on his way out the door. He gave each child a treat and then hit Kylie’s name on his Bluetooth as he sped out of the drive.

  No answer. The pit in his stomach grew taut, his nerves on edge. He hit another number.

  Jax picked up on the third ring. “O’Neill.”

  “I need you to meet me at Kylie’s.” Luke rattled off the address of the RV park.

  “I’m almost to Rocky Creek now. What happened?”

  “We were on the phone and she had just told me somebody was at her house. I heard a crash and the line went dead. She won’t answer now. En route to her place.”

  “Dryden, why would someone target your nanny? Why was the man who botched abducting your kids murdered in broad daylight?”

  “I have no idea, but I’m going to find out. I’m pulling into the RV park.”

  “Five minutes behind you.”

  An orange glow came from the back of the park and Luke knew it had to be Kylie’s place. He held his breath as he sped down the lane and then slammed on his brakes as close to her camper as he dared while still being able to keep an eye on the kids. Adrenaline pumped from a mixture of fear for Kylie and anger at whoever had targeted her. Flames raged from the window, creating a huge mushroom cloud of smoke. As he opened the truck door, heat slammed into him. Zoe and Braden gawked at the fire from the safety of their car seats, and Luke handed them each another cookie. “I’ll be right back.”

  Since he had keyless entry, he left the truck running, locked the doors and ran toward the burning inferno, keeping a lookout for the perpetrator.

  “Over here.” A man with white hair who sported a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts waved him over. “She needs help.”

  Relief flooded him when he spotted Kylie sitting on the ground in the empty lot across from the burning trailer.

  “I’m fine. Let go of me.” She struggled to stand, but the man kept trying to push her back down.

  “I’ve got this.” He flashed his badge at the elderly man. “Texas Ranger.”

  “Oh.” The man backed away a few steps but didn’t leave.

  Luke leaned over her. “Did you see who did this? Is he still here?”

  Kylie’s shoulders stiffened, and she shook her head. “He was driving a red Dodge Charger. He had split by the time I made it out of my house.”

  “Are you injured?”

  “A few cuts and maybe singed a bit.” She stood and twisted her arm to show him and was visibly shaking, although she tried to hide it. “Stings right there but nothing serious. He shot fire through my window. Probably a Molotov cocktail, although I’m not sure. Where are the twins?”

  “In my truck.” His gaze narrowed. “How do you know about Molotov cocktails?”

  She swatted the air. “I watch a lot of drama shows. Let’s get out of here. I don’t trust him not to come back.”

  “I agree.” He needed to get her and the kids to safety before he could concentrate on finding the man who did this. Kylie stood straight and appeared composed, but he had detected the slight tremor in her voice. “Come with me.”

  As they reached his truck, Jax pulled up and Luke waited while Kylie climbed in. “O’Neill, this is Kylie Stone. I’m getting her and the kids out of here.” He relayed the description of the car and let Kylie explain what happened. “I’m taking them to my parents’ house. Call me with any questions or if you have any news.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll finish up here.”

  “Sergeant Jamison should be here soon because he was supposed to interview Kylie. Tell him I’ll give him a call.”

  At Jax’s nod, Luke pulled onto the street in the direction of the main highway.

  “Will your parents be okay with me staying the night? I can rent a room at a hotel. I don’t mind.”

  “I’d rather you stay with us. Mom’s knee has been giving her trouble. I’ve told her she needed to get it fixed, but she claims to have too many things to do. She won’t take time off. I’d feel better if you stayed and helped. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

  Kylie stared out the window.

  A heaviness weighed down on his chest. No telling what she was thinking. These attacks were his fault. He shouldn’t have asked Kylie to be his nanny. Even though many in the Rocky Creek Police Department believed Megan’s death an accident, he knew it was murder. He’d been on the outs with his parents ever since he’d learned they’d deceived him, but he should’ve let his folks have the twins until he found Megan’s killer. Then Kylie wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  “Nah. I’d rather get the kids somewhere safe.” She sighed and turned her blue eyes on him. “I’m not hurt. Just upset.”

  “Let me see.” He switched on the overhead light and turned her hand over. The skin was red, but not blistered. “There’s burn cream in my first-aid kit under the seat.”

  She found the kit and the cream. He waited until she was through before he turned off the light. “Did you get a good look at the man?”

  “No. That’s what I was thinking about. Willing my brain to recall any details that would help identify the man.”

  “Had you seen the car before?”

  “No.”

  “You’re certain this wasn’t the same vehicle as the man in the ski mask at the store?”

  Lines formed across her forehead. “Different car. The man at the store drove a sedan. This was a red Dodge Charger.”

  Luke looked at her. Her hair was falling in her face. “Think about this guy at your trailer. Any information would help. Was he big? Tall? Young?”

  “I don’t know.” Her shoulders slumped. “It was getting dark and his windows were tinted. I saw him hunched down, not standing, behind my Jeep. I just don’t know.”

  “Hun-gee,” Braden yelled from the back seat.

  Kylie turned around in her seat. “Oh, no. Have you not eaten supper?”

  “Afraid not,” Luke said. “They wer
e just waking up from their nap when I called you about Jamison coming over. Which reminds me. I need to talk with the sergeant.”

  He called Jamison, but Jax had already filled him in. It was always a relief when local authorities worked well with their agency.

  After he hung up, Kylie asked, “So the kids didn’t get any meat loaf?”

  “No, but I did remember to turn off the oven so it wouldn’t burn.”

  “Well, at least that’s something.” She smiled. “Have they been changed?”

  “No. I was in a hurry to leave. I’m not very good with kids.” What was he thinking? Of course the twins would need changing. He’d simply received Kylie’s call and hurried out of the house.

  “Nonsense. You haven’t had much practice. Did you remember their diaper bags?”

  “In the back seat. And I also gave them cookies.”

  She laughed, a beautiful sound. Kylie had a way of not tossing blame, which made him feel even worse. “I’m sure they didn’t mind that. How far to your parents?”

  “About forty minutes. Maybe thirty minutes from here.”

  “Good. Pull over at the next convenience store and I’ll change the kids. You can get them some milk and see if they have any fresh fruit, like an apple or banana, to tide them over.”

  Why was it that he was a Texas Ranger and she the babysitter, but it felt like he was the one leaning on her for support?

  * * *

  Kylie changed the kids and had them back in their seats by the time Luke returned to the truck. He had not only bought milk, sliced apples and a banana, but also a container of yogurt, cheese crackers and a cup of grapes. “You loaded up.”

  He nodded and shot her a smile, a dimple forming on his right cheek. “I know. Don’t know if Mom has any snacks for the kids so I thought it would be good to have extras.”

  “Great idea.” She twisted around in the seat and handed each of the kids a slice of apple. “Not too much.”