Witness Undercover
Debra Cowan
IN SAFE KEEPINGLaura Prentiss will do whatever it takes to save her father–even come out of witness protection. Ever since turning in evidence that put her dangerous ex behind bars, she's had a killer on her trail. It'll take someone extraordinary to keep her safe now–someone like former navy SEAL Griffin Devaney. Griffin blames himself for the ambush that took his teammates' lives, and he's determined that nothing will ever happen to someone under his protection again. But as the connection between Griffin and Laura grows, so do the threats against them. Griffin will put everything at stake for a future with Laura–if they survive long enough to have one.
IN SAFE KEEPING
Laura Prentiss will do whatever it takes to save her father—even come out of witness protection. Ever since turning in evidence that put her dangerous ex behind bars, she’s had a killer on her trail. It’ll take someone extraordinary to keep her safe now—someone like former navy SEAL Griffin Devaney. Griffin blames himself for the ambush that took his teammates’ lives, and he’s determined that nothing will ever happen to someone under his protection again. But as the connection between Griffin and Laura grows, so do the threats against them. Griffin will put everything at stake for a future with Laura—if they survive long enough to have one.
She felt herself fading.
A scream welled up, but she couldn’t get out even a sound. Terror flooded her.
Abruptly, the pressure eased and she fell, hitting her head on the corner of the sink. She was conscious enough to register a series of grunts and then a sickening thud against the tile.
Suddenly, Griffin was on the floor beside her.
“Laura?” He leaned over her, moving her hair gently out of her face as he peered at her. “Laura?”
His face came into focus, his hard-edged features stamped with concern.
She lifted a shaky hand to her throbbing head.
“Can you breathe?” he asked.
She nodded, forcing words past her bruised throat as she gripped his hand. “What happened?”
“You were attacked.”
It had come too close on the heels of yesterday’s attack. Fear sliced through her like a blade, jamming her breath painfully in her chest. “He found me. Vin found me.”
“Looks that way.”
Everything went black.
DEBRA COWAN, like many writers, made up stories in her head as a child. She planned to follow family tradition until she wrote her first novel. Equally inspired by Nancy Drew and fairy tales, she loves to combine suspense and romance in her novels. Debra lives in her native Oklahoma with her husband and enjoys hearing from readers. You can contact her via her website at debracowan.net (http://debracowan.net).
Witness
Undercover
Debra Cowan
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
—Isaiah 43:1
To the ladies of my Wednesday night Bible study—
Pennie, Stacy, Alison, Tami, Delise and Jane.
Thanks for the laughs and the prayers.
Contents
Cover (#u2e2fdbd7-28bb-58e0-a6fe-4ecef7e445f9)
Back Cover Text (#ua80c54e9-1011-50cc-9d54-aa04cabe8dff)
Introduction (#uf20c4387-34ff-59e0-b6a9-e95aeebb464c)
About the Author (#u420fde49-1549-54d3-a6f3-4f185ecfc5a1)
Title Page (#u802fc6b2-fc32-5d53-92e5-ff5a773acc77)
Epigraph (#u6e8d1488-e083-5545-82a6-fdd4b9f9e302)
Dedication (#u2e3a4cbd-c4a3-5c77-9941-a1aa4e2e1537)
ONE (#u75436d04-bd84-560e-8151-b5f29e870a76)
TWO (#u11c46447-eced-5e93-9b9b-0cc565ec769e)
THREE (#u0d038849-7c4d-584d-b77d-818a260e9260)
FOUR (#u4ee8e9f9-a01c-527c-b788-3b0f6dd108d1)
FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ulink_db306084-9476-5123-bece-2c667fd0c792)
Laura Prentiss hadn’t wanted a new beginning, a new name, but that was what she’d gotten. After the mess she’d made of her life, she was lucky to be alive.
Thanks to witness protection, she was now Laura Parker, assistant manager of Miss Behavin’, a ladies’ boutique in Pueblo, Colorado, that was currently closed for the night.
Thanksgiving was only weeks away. This would be her first here in Pueblo, her first without family. Laura tried not to feel sorry for herself.
She had a job and friends, even if they didn’t know her real name. Jesus had left behind his family without complaining. She would be fine.
Just as she opened a case of potpourri to stock, she heard a knock on the back door.
Laura froze, her hands going clammy. It couldn’t be a delivery, as it was after business hours. She reached for the bat in the corner kept for protection.
After her months in WitSec, had Vin Arrico finally found her?
The thought that her past might have caught up to her had Laura’s stomach knotting. She crept to the door at the back of the storage room.
The knock sounded again, making her jump.
“Laura? Miss Parker?”
She recognized the thick Texas accent. “Marshal Yates?”
“Yes. I need to see you.”
If the US marshal who had handled her case from the beginning had driven down from the field office in Colorado Springs, something was wrong. Very wrong.
Setting the bat aside, she unlocked the steel door and stepped back as the tall lanky man entered. He was followed by one of the biggest men Laura had ever seen. The stranger closed the door behind him, looking around at the shelves of candles, women’s shoes and boxes of unpacked jewelry before shifting his attention to her.
Her shoulders tensed. In the light of the single-bulb fixture, she couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, but they were piercing and glittered like steel. A strange sensation fluttered in her stomach. She turned to Floyd Yates.
“Has something happened with Vin?”
Laura had no doubt her ex-boyfriend could find her even from prison.
“No, nothing like that,” Floyd said. “Sorry to alarm you.”
He gestured to the man beside him. “Laura, this is Griffin Devaney.”
She nodded at the stranger with neatly trimmed dark hair and whisker stubble. His six-foot-four frame filled the space. He studied her with a quiet certainty that made it difficult to breathe. Who was he? Why had Floyd brought him?
The open space seemed small and cramped with Griffin Devaney there. His well-fitting denim jacket was faded to a soft blue, as were his jeans.
The marshal turned to her. “Devaney works with your aunt at Enigma, Inc.”
Laura started. Her aunt, Joy Langston, had worked at that company for years. Laura had never known how to label the enterprise. Private security? Personal security? Search and rescue?
Yates continued. “She sent Devaney for you and he contacted me.”
Even though Laura knew she shouldn’t have done so, she had told her aunt about WitSec the night she’d left Oklahoma City.
Joy knew Laura’s situation, knew the danger posed by exposing her. So why had Floyd brought Devaney here?
Palms clammy, she clasped her hands together, her attention locked on the man who had protected her for the past ten months. “Just tell me.”
“Your father has cancer,” Floyd said. “A relapse of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”
Relapse? Panic punched her in the chest followed quickly by resentment and regret. Her mother had died from cancer. Was her father close to death? Did he want to see her?
“He was first diagnosed nine months ago. He was cautioned that if the cancer returned, he would need a bone marrow transplant.”
Devaney spoke up. “A lot of people have been tested, but you’re the only match.”
She frowned. “How do you know that?”
“You had a blood sample in the donor registry.”
Before going into hiding, Laura had regularly donated blood and made sure to put herself on the register for both blood and bone marrow donors. She turned to Floyd. “You said my dad had relapsed.”
“Yes. Two weeks ago, during his monthly check up, he learned the cancer was back.”
Two bouts of cancer. A bone marrow transplant. Her guilt over their years-long estrangement pinched at her. Laura was the last person on earth her father would want to help him, but Floyd and Devaney didn’t need to know that.
She glanced at the marshal. “Have you known about this since Dad’s first diagnosis?”
“No.” He hooked a thumb at the big man beside him. “Not until Devaney told me tonight.”
Even if Floyd had known, it would’ve done no good to tell Laura. She wouldn’t have been able to help her dad and her dad hadn’t needed her then. But he did now.
“What about Vin?”
“My boss called to tell me that Devaney was coming. He’s convinced this man can keep you safe. Devaney made a compelling case himself. He’ll be with you 24/7 and he has backup if he needs it.”
She could read nothing in the younger man’s rugged features, the tight mouth or eyes that she could now see were a perfect mix of blue and green. There was a stillness about him yet also a hum of coiled energy beneath the surface, as if he could explode into motion faster than she could blink.
She drew in a deep breath. The everyday scents of perfume and potpourri and a light citrus cleaner were comforting. “I’m supposed to just disappear? Again?”
“I’m sorry, but yes,” Floyd said gently. “I’ll have your apartment packed up and your things sent to you when you’re ready for them.”
“I’ll have to cancel my lease,” she said, half to herself. “Are you sure my leaving witness protection is safe?”
“It’s a risk. I won’t lie. Nobody would blame you if you said no. If you say no, we can all just forget about this conversation.”
“I can’t do that,” Laura said quickly. “Not if my dad really needs me.”
“I think he does,” the marshal said.
She trusted Floyd. He had never lied to her or put her in unnecessary danger.
She was going home. Aunt Joy needed her. Her father needed her. And then she would have to start all over again.
Having the marshal here and disappearing without notice meant her identity had now been compromised. After everything was done, she’d have to be moved, assigned another fake name and background. Get another job.
Sadness tugged at her. She’d made friends here and she really liked the store’s owner, Ann Childress, but Laura had never let herself forget that she might someday have to leave. And now someday was here.
“We should get going,” Devaney said.
Still off balance, Laura nodded slowly.
He frowned. “I’d rather you ride with me, but we can’t leave your car here.”
“Because it would look as if something bad happened to me.”
He nodded.
“I’ll have to call my boss,” she said faintly. “If it’s okay, I’ll tell her it’s a family emergency and make sure she knows I won’t be back.”
She glanced at Floyd. “So, we’ll drive to Oklahoma City?”
“No,” the older man said. “I won’t be going with you. I’ll meet you there later. Devaney has brought Enigma’s jet.”
“Jet?”
“The pilot is on standby,” her new protector put in. “We can leave your car covered and in the hangar where the plane is stored. I’ll follow behind you. Do you know how to get to the airport?”
“I didn’t even know Pueblo had one.”
After a last look around, she grabbed her winter coat and followed the men outside. Floyd put a hand on her shoulder.
“I wouldn’t have brought Devaney here if I hadn’t checked him out forward and backward. The director personally vouched for him. If I thought for one minute this guy wasn’t on the level or that he couldn’t protect you, I would’ve sent him packing.”
Aware of how careful the marshal had been with her up to this point, Laura knew that was true. Even so, she was nervous. Vin was alive and as long as he was, she was in danger.
Devaney waited for her to lock up, then gave her directions to the airport. In the darkness, he was nearly invisible until he slid behind the wheel of a dark sedan. She said goodbye to Floyd, then settled into her red compact. After the taillights of the older man’s SUV disappeared, Devaney waved her out of the parking lot and followed.
He appeared able to protect her. She hoped he was, but what if she needed to be protected from him? The thought drew her up short. Where had that come from?
She drove through the quiet streetlamp-lit streets of Pueblo, glancing in her rearview mirror frequently.
The man who’d come for her stayed close as she battled a mix of resentment and fear and uncertainty.
Griffin Devaney had wrecked her manufactured life like an EF5 tornado. He hadn’t just brought up her past. He was sweeping her right back into it.
* * *
Laura’s aunt hadn’t met them at the airport as expected. Instead, she’d had to rush Laura’s father to the hospital.
Being back in Oklahoma City felt surreal. The plane ride and the composure of the man beside her had helped lessen some of the fear she’d felt at Griffin Devaney’s appearance, but not the apprehension or the uncertainty. As a result, conversation had been sparse.
During the drive to OU Medical Center, she was jumpy. What if Vin somehow learned she had surfaced? What if despite his need, her father didn’t want to see her?
She flattened a hand on her stomach, trying to still the flutters there. They weren’t all due strictly to anxiety. Devaney set off surprising flutters of his own.
She slid a look at the solidly built man behind the steering wheel. Occasionally, light from the streetlamps slanted across him, the shadows doing nothing to soften the carved-rock line of his jaw.
What was his story? Beneath the nerves, the uncertainty and wariness, she was intrigued by the man who’d found her. More curious about him than she’d been about any man in a long time.
Uncomfortable with the realization, Laura forced herself to focus on the reason she was here, not the grimly handsome man beside her.
What had happened between her and her dad had been just as much his fault as Laura’s, but she didn’t know if Nolan Prentiss would see it that way. And it didn’t matter. She had forgiven him and hoped he could do the same.
Not much had changed in the months since she’d been away from Oklahoma City. Though she didn’t see anything new on the drive from the airpark, she was unexpectedly nostalgic at the sight of the illuminated dome of the state capitol as they traveled I-235 South.
Farther south and east than their destination was Bricktown, a bustling area of downtown that boasted restaurants, a ballpark and the arena for Oklahoma City’s NBA team, the Thunder.
Everything might look mostly the same, but it didn’t feel the same. Thirty minutes after leaving Sundance Airpark, she found herself at OU Medical Center. Griffin whipped his SUV into a parking spot in the lot of the hospital where her father had been admitted.
The temperature here was about the same as it had been in Pueblo and Laura snuggled her face into the collar of her heavy coat. Neither she nor her companion spoke as they rode the elevator to the seventh-floor oncology ward. Even though she didn’t know Griffin, Laura was glad not to be alone. His quiet steadiness helped settle her somewhat.
They got off the elevator and turned left, passing an open family waiting area. Another bank of elevators sat at the opposite end of the long hallway. A second nurse’s station served visitors in that area. Several yards away, Laura hesitated and Griffin stopped beside her.
“Are you nervous?” he asked.
“I— Yes.” She hadn’t faced her father in years. Though she intended to see him—she had come out of WitSec for this—she had no idea what kind of reception she would get.
The area was quiet, the only sounds the occasional beep of machines and the heave of a heater. After asking about Nolan Prentiss’s location, she explained she was a family friend who had been asked to come. In answer, the pretty red-haired nurse at the desk gestured down the hall toward a patient room.
“Mr. Prentiss has already started his conditioning,” the woman explained. “Before you go in, you’ll need to put on this mask and gown.”
“Conditioning?” Laura asked.
“He’s undergoing chemo to kill his bad cells.”
The tap-tap of a pair of heels interrupted them. Laura turned to see her aunt coming down the hall, shedding a mask and gown.
Looking smart in a pink sweater and dark slacks, the older woman rushed toward her and grabbed her in a big hug.
“Thanks for coming,” Joy said thickly, her blue eyes bright with emotion. She lowered her voice. “I didn’t know if I would ever see you again.”
Laura had wondered, too. Tears burned her throat and she returned the embrace.
Joy stepped back. “You look beautiful. Your hair’s grown.”
She put an arm around Laura’s shoulders. “You can see Nolan if you’d like, but he’s heavily drugged and unresponsive.”
“I won’t go inside, but I would like to look in on him.” She peeked inside the room, taking in the hospital bed flanked by an IV bag and a blood-pressure-and-heart monitor. Her gaze went to the man lying motionless under a light blanket.
Her breath caught. Nolan Prentiss, always trim and fit, looked emaciated. His normally ruddy coloring was gray, his blue eyes closed, his brow furrowed as if in pain. He didn’t stir.
Laura sent a questioning glance to her aunt.
“He’s on morphine for pain. He hasn’t been conscious since we arrived earlier, but it’s for the best.”
“What pain?”
“In his back and stomach. His back started hurting about two weeks ago and his oncologist confirmed it was a relapse of the lymphoma. Nolan called me today when the pain became so severe he couldn’t even stand up. I brought him straight here and they admitted him.”
Laura swallowed hard, keeping her voice quiet. “Mr. Devaney said Dad was diagnosed nine months ago for non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.”
“Yes, a type called diffuse large B-cell.”
She had no idea what it was, but it sounded bad. Laura’s stomach knotted. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her father like this. She wanted him to open his eyes and look at her even though her emotions were a mix of love, regret and shame.
Torn between going in or leaving her father in peace, Laura shifted beside her aunt. Nolan’s raven hair had turned completely white. He was frail. For the first time in her life, she thought of her father as something other than strong and unyielding. Life had taken its toll on him, just as it had on her.
“Let’s come back later.” Her aunt closed the door and steered her away.
Devaney fell into step on Joy’s other side. The older woman gave him a quick hug. “Thank you for bringing Laura.”
Griffin smiled, his hard features softening, his blue-green eyes warming.
The change in his face made Laura a little weak in the knees, which completely shocked her. She jerked her gaze away. Oh, please. She was tired. That was why she’d felt that little wobble.
Retracing their steps, they made their way to the waiting area they’d seen when they stepped off the elevator. Among the groupings of chairs, there was a television on the wall. One section of chairs was broken up with a small table and phone in the middle. A long couch sat on the adjacent wall.
People clustered in groups of two or three along the near wall. Laura walked across to the less populated side of the room with her aunt and took a chair. Griffin eased down onto the gray sofa.
Joy dabbed at her damp eyes, lowering her voice. “The person who originally volunteered to be Nolan’s donor is ill. Thank goodness your blood sample was on file with the register. I was tested, too. Siblings have the best chance of having the same HLA molecules, but I wasn’t a match at all.”
“HLA molecules?”
“Antibodies that are proteins in the blood and could interfere with the success of the transplant. There’s only a twenty-five percent chance that I would be a perfect match. The chances are even more slim that the parents or children of a patient will match.”
Laura frowned. “But I’m a match?”
“Yes, praise the Lord.” A determined look crossed Joy’s face. “I’ve been praying that you would be able to help your father and now you are. God doesn’t pay attention to percentages.”
Still shaken by seeing her larger-than-life father in such a feeble state, Laura was hit with a sense of urgency. “What do I need to do? Shouldn’t we get started?”
“You’ll undergo some tests to make sure you’re healthy enough to donate.”
“What kind of tests?”
“Joy?” The red-haired nurse who had directed them earlier appeared in the doorway. Her name tag read Cheryl. “Sorry to interrupt, but I understand this is the visitor you want to be tested.”
“Yes.” Joy introduced Laura. “I told her she would need to be examined.”
Cheryl smiled, her brown eyes warm. “It’s just to make sure you have no issues. Even something that seems as inconsequential as a tooth infection can cause problems. Whenever you’re ready, we can get started.”
Laura recalled her father’s fragile appearance. “I’m ready now. How soon will you know if I’m healthy enough?”
“Pretty quickly. The lab processes donor candidates ASAP in case we need to continue searching for a match.”
Joy squeezed her hand and Laura met her aunt’s sober blue gaze. “I hope this works.”
“I have faith,” Joy said.
Laura should, too.
The nurse walked out and Laura followed with Griffin right behind her. An hour later, she and her bodyguard returned to the waiting area to meet her aunt. Once Laura explained about the tests she’d undergone, Joy patted her hand.
“I imagine you’re exhausted,” the other woman said. “We can visit on the way to my house. I fixed you a room.”
“No,” Griffin said. “She’s coming home with me.”
Laura jolted in surprise. “With you?”
“Yes. The one place I can guarantee your safety is my house.”
Though Laura didn’t like it, he had a point. She turned to her aunt. “He’s right. I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“I don’t want to put you at risk, either, but I wish we could spend some time together.”
“So do I.” Leaving her family behind had been much harder than Laura had anticipated. She had never realized how defined she was by whom she loved and who loved her, who was in her life. She glanced around the waiting area. “I could sleep here.”
Devaney was shaking his head before she even finished. “Not a good idea. Joy, you can stay at my house, too. In fact, I’d feel better if you did.”
“What if someone finds out?” Laura half whispered. “Won’t that put her in danger?”
“You won’t leave or arrive together.”
He turned to Joy. “Boone or Sydney will get you to and from my house without being tailed. Laura will be with me.”
“That sounds good.” Joy hugged Laura briefly. “Boone and Sydney work at Enigma. Staying with Griffin, we’ll be able to catch up. I’ll go home and get some things, then meet you at his house.”
“All right.”
The three of them walked toward the elevator. Griffin stayed close.
He’d said he would do his best not to let Vin find her and he hadn’t been kidding. Devaney hadn’t left her side since they’d flown out of Pueblo. As much as she hated to admit it, she found his presence reassuring. And now she was going to his home.
The elevator doors opened and the three of them stepped inside, moving toward the back. A husky boy who looked to be in his late teens slouched in one corner, hands in his jeans pockets, the hood of his red sweatshirt pulled over his eyes.
An athletic-looking man stood along the opposite wall between a young boy and young girl who each clasped one of his hands. Two older women filled that corner. Cheryl, the red-haired nurse who had taken Laura for her tests, moved to the back.
“Time for my break,” she said upon seeing them. She turned to the side to accommodate a small slender man with a long gray ponytail dangling from under a grimy baseball cap.
As Griffin and Laura shifted to give the newcomers some room, she noticed he kept her between himself and Joy.
When the elevator reached the lobby and the doors opened, the passengers angled so the older women could exit first. The movement caused Laura to scoot closer to her bodyguard.
The remaining occupants surged forward, knocking her off balance for a second. Someone bumped her from behind and Laura reflexively reached for the wall. Instead, she got Griffin’s iron-hard biceps. Just as she steadied herself, Laura felt a sharp prick in her free arm.
She jerked, drawing in a jagged breath at the shooting pain.
Griffin immediately pulled her closer, allowing the rest of the group to disembark. “What? What is it?”
“Something just stuck me.” She started to pull up her sleeve, then stopped short at the sight of a syringe dangling from her sweater sleeve. She made a noise and Griffin’s hand settled heavily on her shoulder as he turned her slightly toward him.
Though no one was waiting for the elevator at the moment, Griffin ushered her and her aunt off. After they entered the area that opened into the lobby, he stopped them and took Laura’s arm, examining it carefully.
Joy leaned in. “What is that?”
“A syringe,” Griffin said grimly.
Laura reached for it, but he grabbed her hand.
“Don’t touch it.” He glanced at Joy. “Do you have a tissue?”
“I have a handkerchief.”
As her aunt pulled the cotton cloth from her purse, Laura remained still, her arm smarting. The hankie was one made by Joy, her first name embroidered with a signature flower in place of the o in her name. Laura had one just like it.
Using the handkerchief to pluck the needle out, Griffin studied the clear liquid in the syringe. “It’s full of something.”
“Drugs?” Laura’s voice shook. Or something worse? she wondered.
“I’ll find out. How’s your arm?”
“It stings, but the pain is already starting to fade.” She pushed up the fabric to reveal a short raw scratch just above her elbow.
Concern clouded Joy’s eyes as she looked at Griffin. “Do you think someone did this on purpose?”
His face darkened. “I don’t know.”
Laura’s gaze shifted to the man beside her, her heart suddenly pounding hard. “If it was deliberate, why stick me in the arm? That seems as if it would draw too much attention from others in the elevator.”
“Maybe they meant to stick you somewhere else.”
She swallowed hard.
“Like in the side or the hip.” Devaney gently eased her closer to the wall. “All of the jostling as people left the car could’ve made them miss their target. I doubt they meant to leave this syringe behind, but it snagged in your sweater. They couldn’t retrieve it without drawing attention to themselves.”
Mouth dry, she stared up at Griffin. She mentally reviewed all of the faces of the people who’d ridden the elevator with them, but she couldn’t remember anything unusual or suspicious or recall anyone being jumpy.
A muscle working in his jaw, Griffin’s gaze scanned the milling crowd.
“Do you see anything?” she asked.
“No one running away or looking guilty or even appearing to be interested in us.”
Dread curled through her as Griffin cautiously wrapped the needle in the handkerchief and slid it into his coat pocket. He then took Laura’s elbow and steered her toward the hospital entrance.
Joy followed. “What are we going to do?”
“First I’m going to figure out if there’s a security camera in the elevator,” he said. “Then when we get to my house, Sydney can draw some of Laura’s blood. She has medic training. We’ll send that along with the syringe to a lab we use. Then we’ll know the contents and if any of it is in your blood.”
“Does it really matter what’s in the syringe?” Laura tried to temper her tone, but fear gave her voice a sharp edge.
“Once we determine the contents,” he said in a low voice, “we’ll know if they meant to harm you.”
“And how badly,” Laura finished quietly at the realization.
Joy’s gaze went from her niece to Griffin. “Do you mean it might have killed her?”
“Can’t dismiss the possibility.”
“Oh, dear.” The older woman’s face tightened with apprehension. “Could Vin have had anything to do with this?”
Griffin’s steel-hard gaze slid to Laura’s and held. “We have to assume so until we know differently.”
Laura struggled to breathe past the crushing pressure in her chest.
Could her ex have already found her? If so, how?
TWO (#ulink_6b9c2b97-663f-5808-8713-af8940bb8d6b)
An hour later, Griffin had Laura settled in his house. Back at the hospital, she’d lost all color and had outwardly trembled at the thought that Arrico might have already found her. Griffin hadn’t seen fear like that since his last rescue two years ago. He didn’t like seeing it on someone he was supposed to protect.
She’d hardly spoken during the drive out west of Oklahoma City. Joy was on her way, escorted by Sydney Tate, Enigma’s sole female operator. To be safe, Griffin had disinfected Laura’s arm. Then they had eaten dinner. She’d been quiet throughout the meal, a sense of dread palpable in the room.
Before they’d left the hospital, Griffin had checked the security footage from the elevator. So as not to alert anyone else in the hospital, he had managed to keep that between him and the guard in the equipment room. It was impossible to tell who had jabbed Laura with the syringe.
It could’ve been the kid in the hoodie or the nurse or the guy who’d gotten on last. The nurse would certainly have easy access to a syringe. Since they hadn’t reported the incident, only they and the person with the syringe knew what had happened. Before Griffin gave out that information to the nurse, he would observe her, see how she behaved around Laura. Griffin stood in the doorway between his kitchen and living room. Fluorescent light brightened the room, gliding over the white cabinets and light blue walls. His guest sat at the kitchen table in front of the bay window.
It was weird having a woman here. He never had, not in this house, anyway. He didn’t bring dates here. In fact, he hadn’t had a date since his broken engagement to Emily. And so far in this job, he hadn’t needed to host a client—male or female.
Papers were scattered across the table’s oak surface and Laura’s head was bent as she worked on the mountain of forms needed by the hospital and the transplant doctor. Her black hair was down now, sliding around her shoulders like a silky midnight cloud. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked.
She glanced up and saw him. Griff braced one shoulder against the doorframe. “How’s your arm?”
“A little sore. Not bad.”
“Getting through all of the paperwork?”
“There are a ton of questions, but I’m about finished.” She furrowed her brow. “I almost signed my real name a couple of times.”
“It’s good you caught yourself.”
“That’s one of the reasons WitSec likes witnesses to keep their real first name and the same first letter of their surname.”
“Makes sense.” Griffin had never thought about it, but he imagined it would be second nature to sign or answer to your real name. “It probably helps keep any friends or relatives in the program from blurting out the wrong name.”
She nodded, indicating the cell phone lying in front of her on the table. “Thanks for the phone. I called Floyd and explained that I’ll likely be my dad’s bone marrow donor.”
Griffin walked over and picked up the burner phone he’d given her, planning to dispose of it downstairs in the computer room. “How often does Yates want you to check in?”
“Every day until the procedure is finished. He’s planning to come down in a week or earlier if he needs to.” When Griffin nodded, she continued, “I still can’t believe I’m a match. From what Aunt Joy said, the doctor made it sound like it was a near miracle. I hope it makes a difference to my dad.” She finally stopped writing and put down the pen, frowning. “I hope it cures him. I don’t want to let him or Aunt Joy down.”
“You won’t. Just your being here helps.”
Her gaze searched his and after a moment, she smiled. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to about it.”
It probably shouldn’t be him. For a second, he was struck by the clear blue of her eyes. He didn’t realize he was staring like an idiot until she looked away, pink blooming in her cheeks.
He gave himself a mental kick. What was he doing? He needed to focus on her protection, not her.
“Once Joy arrives, and we draw your blood, I’ll send everything with Sydney to a lab we use,” he told her again. He was nervous all of a sudden and couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“How long will it be until we know something?”
“If there are no glitches, twenty-four hours or less. The lab will email the results to me.”
“Is that safe?” Laura tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I know email accounts get hacked.”
“Everything on these computers is encrypted.”
“Good to know.” She gave him a little smile, which hit him right in the gut. He didn’t like it. Suddenly he felt as if the walls were closing in on him.
“There’s not a lot here to keep you entertained. TV or a few books, mainly thrillers. Or my gun range.”
“Your gun range?”
He nodded. “It’s underground.”
“Really?” Interest flashed in her eyes. “I don’t know how to shoot, but I’d like to learn, especially after what happened in the elevator.”
Being able to protect herself would give her some peace of mind. Griffin could do that. “If you’re serious, I can give you some lessons.”
“That would be great. I’d feel better if I at least knew how to handle a gun.”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
She rose. “Now?”
He nodded. He wasn’t wild about taking her downstairs to the security room, but on the off chance that she might be threatened here, he wanted her to know she had a secure place to go.
After straightening her papers, she followed him across the wood floor of his large living area, then through the kitchen before they moved into the laundry room.
Griffin opened the closet used to store the iron and ironing board, which also had a rod for hanging clothes.
He pushed a button on the bottom of the clothes rod and the back of the cabinet swung open, revealing a set of stairs.
“Oh, my word! Is there a secret room?”
Laura’s question sparked a half smile. Instead of answering, he stepped inside and started down the stairs. Motion-triggered lights flashed on to show the way.
She followed. At the bottom of the steps, the space opened into a large room that housed all his computers and security equipment. His guest stopped beside him and Griffin punched in today’s code, killing the laser security beams.
He started across the dark floor, then realized Laura wasn’t behind him. He glanced back, stopping when he saw her stunned expression as she looked around the room with its long chrome table full of black monitors.
“This is like the Batcave!” she exclaimed.
That startled a laugh out of him. “Not exactly.”
“Close enough.”
He was still smiling when she moved to the bank of flat-screen monitors stretching in front of her. When was the last time he’d laughed while with a woman? He didn’t know.
His chair was arranged so that he faced the door and the screens, allowing him to see the entrance at all times. Along the adjacent wall was a refrigerator/freezer and a black leather sleeper sofa.
“What is this place?” Laura studied the monitors that displayed all the rooms in the house and various places on the property. “You really are prepared for anything.”
“If I need to, I can stay down here for a while.”
“You mean like if you were under siege?” Her eyes twinkled as she gave a disbelieving laugh.
He didn’t laugh, recalling the night that he and his team had been ambushed and under siege, resulting in the loss of his friends. He wasn’t going to be in a vulnerable position again if he could help it.
“It comes in handy,” he allowed.
“Impressive.” Her gaze moved around the space. Past the restroom at the back and to the vault on the same wall.
“This is amazing,” Laura murmured.
“If you get spooked and I’m not around, you can come down here.”
“Are you planning to leave me here while you go to work?”
“You are my work, so no.” He didn’t miss the relief in her eyes. “This is a place you can come in case you need to. Plus there’s another exit.”
She scanned the room. “Where?”
“Through the vault.” He led her to the large steel door with its engraving of the trident earned by all SEALs.
With an expression of awe, she stopped in front of the vault. “Wow.”
She reached toward the engraving of the eagle, anchor and flintlock that marked a sailor as a fully qualified navy SEAL. Griffin grabbed her hand. At the touch, a warm tingle spread up his arm.
Whoa, he thought, releasing her. “You aren’t in my system and you’ll set off the alarm if you touch the door.”
“Oh.”
“Let me show you.” Stepping up to a recessed dark glass panel in the wall beside the vault, he bent so his retina could be scanned. After the approving beep, he placed his hand on the panel. It beeped again; then the vault lock clicked open.
“Unbelievable,” Laura breathed. “This is just like in the movies.”
“When we finish shooting practice, I’ll put you in the system. I can delete your prints after you’re gone.”
“All right.”
He opened the door wide and waited for her to precede him into the custom-made room.
She walked through the door, trailing a scent of spring freshness. “How long have you worked at Enigma?”
“Three and a half years.”
“What did you do before that?”
“I was in the Teams.”
“The Teams?” Her forehead wrinkled. “Like...sports?”
He almost smiled. “No, ma’am. The navy.”
After a second, her eyes widened. “You mean you were a SEAL?”
He tensed, wondering how she would react. Some women treated them like superheroes, some like killing machines in a video game. They were just men. Men who’d learned the hard way to do hard things. “Yes, I was.”
She didn’t ask if he’d killed anyone. Instead, her question was “Are your teammates still SEALs?”
“No.” He didn’t talk about them. Ever.
She must have realized he didn’t intend to say more. After a moment, she said, “Thank you.”
His gaze shot to her. “For what?”
“Your service to our country.”
There was no mistaking the sincerity or admiration in her eyes. Those were the last things she needed to feel for him. He didn’t deserve it. Not after what he’d done. Not after his decision had resulted in the deaths of his friends.
“How did you meet my aunt?”
“She was a volunteer at the hospital where I had additional surgery on my leg.”
“What happened to your leg?”
“Broken femur, gunshot, shrapnel.” In the firefight that had killed his teammates. “Joy, uh, urged me to come work for Enigma.”
Laura gave him a half smile. “I guess you learned pretty quickly that she won’t take no for an answer.”
“I did.” Joy’s job offer had probably saved his life.
Griffin walked between the two walls that exhibited a number of guns, everything from an Uzi to a sniper rifle.
He gestured toward the waist-high center cabinet with its drawers of ammunition. “The ammo is in the third drawer down.”
When she didn’t respond, he looked over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway, mouth agape, blue eyes wide.
“How many guns do you have?”
“Seventy-five.” In here. “This underground range is also an alternate way to get out, if you ever need one. I’ll show you after we get to the practice area.”
She joined him at the cabinet, picking up the box of cartridges he pushed toward her. “Your place is something else.”
“I never could’ve built it if I weren’t working at Enigma.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of my first assignments was to rescue a man’s daughter and he insisted on rewarding me.”
“He must be the richest man in the world.”
She wasn’t far off, Griffin admitted. The man was a sultan. “He was grateful.”
“I’ll say.” Her eyes sparkled. “Did he give you an island, too?”
“No.” But he had tried to give his daughter to Griffin. He had barely gotten out of that without insulting the man. The woman had been stunningly beautiful, but she’d never had an effect on him. No woman had after Emily and that was the way he wanted it.
“Ready?”
Laura nodded, following him through the opening at the back of the vault. The long hallway veed into an area composed of three shooting stations.
She chuckled. “I feel like Jamie Bond.”
He grinned. Despite the gravity of her situation and that of her father, she still had a sense of humor. He liked that.
She might look as though a strong wind would blow her over, but there was steel beneath that dainty shell. She’d testified against a vicious criminal. That took guts.
Before meeting her, Griffin had been curious. Now he was impressed.
In short order, he outfitted them both with safety goggles and ear protectors. The paper targets were already set up, so Griffin handed Laura a Walther PPK. The small gun would fit her hand better than some of his others.
After explaining how to engage the safety, he instructed her on loading the clip. As she slid the bullets in one by one, she glanced up. “How did you find me?”
“After Joy told me what happened, I touched base with an old friend.”
“Floyd’s boss?”
“Yes.” He hadn’t gone through the proper channels. He’d needed info and fast, needed to make sure he wasn’t putting her in danger when he showed up. Bohannon, the US marshal he’d rescued two years ago in Eastern Europe, had been more than happy to supply Griffin with whatever information he needed.
It had taken less than an hour to get the name of the US marshal assigned to her case. Then Griffin had gone to the field office in Colorado Springs to speak with Floyd Yates and read Laura’s trial transcripts and a copy of her file built by the marshals.
He demonstrated how she should stand and hold the weapon, then turned it over to her. She missed the target three times before finally hitting it. Using the markings on the paper, Laura hit center mass several times, although none in the same spot.
He urged her to try two shots to the chest area and one to the head. That gave her a little trouble, but she kept shooting, a fierce look of concentration on her face.
Joy had given him a picture, so Griffin had known that her niece was pretty, but up close she was...more.
She was the kind of pretty that grew the longer you were with her. Direct blue eyes, thick straight black hair pulled back to show the fine line of her neck and jaw. A mouth that hinted at a ready smile despite the fact that her life had been ripped away from her.
He noticed a scar on her chin. Had she gotten that from Arrico?
She emptied her last clip into the chest area of the paper silhouette of a man’s upper body. The sharp odor of gunpowder filled the air around them.
Griffin hit the button to mechanically bring the targets to them. After examining her shots, he smiled. “Not bad for your first try. Come down here and practice whenever you like.”
“Do you mind giving me more instruction?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks.” She studied her handiwork with pursed lips. “Hopefully, I won’t need to defend myself.”
Her words reminded Griffin that as long as she was out of WitSec, she was vulnerable. And his responsibility.
A beep on his cell phone alerted him to a text message from Sydney. “Your aunt should be here soon.”
They walked up the hallway, their shoulders brushing. They reached the vault door and Griffin moved out into the computer room. When she didn’t immediately follow, he glanced over his shoulder. And froze.
She had stopped in front of the picture.
Taped to the wall was a photograph of him with his team. The four of them were on the beach at Coronado in board shorts, the sun setting behind them. They’d just returned from jump school and had gone to the beach to relax. He’d been so distracted by his protectee that he’d hadn’t thought about the picture being there.
Her blue gaze met his. “These must be your teammates.”
“Yes.” He didn’t try to temper the coldness in his voice.
“You all look like such close friends.”
“Yes.” He wanted to shut her down.
“I guess you can’t talk about them. For security reasons?”
“Right.” He couldn’t talk about them, but that wasn’t why.
She frowned, probably wondering why he couldn’t seem to manage more than one-word answers. Now she would ask questions. Questions he didn’t want asked and wouldn’t answer. He hated the whole idea of it. It would remind him that they were all gone. Dead. Because of him.
The security buzzer sounded, signaling that someone was on the property. A quick glance at the closest monitor showed Sydney’s gray SUV coming up the winding gravel drive toward the house. “Looks like Joy is here.”
“Oh, good.” Laura moved to stand in front of him, close enough that a strand of her hair caught on his gray T-shirt.
He saw curiosity and a brief flash of pity in her eyes, just long enough to make him stiffen. Then it was gone.
“I’m sorry.” She gestured toward the picture. “For whatever happened.”
She squeezed his forearm, then walked out. His chest hurt from her words. It was clear that she knew his friends were dead, but he saw no reason to confirm it. How could she know that? Maybe it wasn’t hard to figure out, but it made him feel as if she were in his head.
The realization made him want to bolt. He didn’t do personal, not after what had happened in Afghanistan. And not after what had happened once he’d returned home to Emily.
If Laura had been any other client, he would have passed her off to Boone or Sydney, but because of his friendship with Joy, he couldn’t.
He glanced back at the photo of him, Ace, Davy and J.J. His jaw tensed.
Griffin didn’t want to be responsible for Laura Prentiss aka Parker, but he was. He wouldn’t fail her the way he’d failed his teammates.
* * *
Last night at Griffin’s had gone better than Laura had expected. She’d been comfortable and somewhat relaxed, but after what had happened at the hospital, she couldn’t shake the fear that Vin had found her.
Though Griffin had stayed nearby, he hadn’t crowded her. And for the first time since Laura and her father had their falling-out three years ago, she hadn’t felt alone. Even with Vin, it had often seemed as if she were all by herself.
This morning she was still thinking about Griffin’s reaction to her seeing the photo of him with his friends. The tortured look in his eyes had troubled her. It had been obvious something awful had happened. She didn’t really blame him for not wanting to talk about it.
It wasn’t her business. In another week, she would be gone and she would likely never see him again. Still, she’d wanted to know about the photo. And him.
Though she had tried not to dwell on his reaction, she wondered about it. Wondered about a lot of things. He knew a lot about her. She knew next to nothing about him. Except that she was finding it hard not to like him.
Sydney had arrived for Joy, assuring Laura they would meet her at the hospital. The brunette had an ease about her that made her easy to believe. Laura and Griffin had left soon after.
Now she and her bodyguard hurried across the hospital parking lot and into the warmth the building provided. As they stopped in front of the elevators, Laura removed her coat. The paperwork she’d brought added a little weight to her purse.
“So your new clothes fit okay?” Griffin asked in a deep rumble.
She glanced down at her dark purple sweater. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be wearing the same clothes until my things arrived from Pueblo. I appreciate you stopping last night so I could buy what I needed.”
“You’re welcome.” The barely there smile he flashed had her smiling back.
All in all, he had gone to a lot of trouble. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting houseguests. Thank you for everything.”
“Sure.” He looked away, as if uncomfortable with the compliment.
No one else stepped into the elevator car and as Laura pushed the button for the seventh floor, so did Griffin. They quickly broke apart but just as it had earlier when he had entered her prints and information into his security system, the feel of his hand on hers lingered. Strong, warm, rock steady. She glanced up. “No word yet on what was in the syringe?”
He shook his head. “I expect to hear anytime now.”
As the bell dinged their arrival, Laura looked up at the man beside her. “I hope my—Nolan’s awake this time. After I turn in this paperwork, I want to see him.”
As they exited, she lightly touched Griffin’s arm. “I’d like to use the restroom before we check on him.”
“Sure. I’ll wait for you here.”
She walked back past the elevators and down the sparsely populated hall, then pushed open the door to enter the ladies’ room. Chrome faucets gleamed against the white countertops and sinks. The floor and stall doors were also white.
She finished quickly and moved to the sink, putting her purse on the floor at her feet. After washing and drying her hands, she bent to pick up her bag.
Suddenly something snaked around her throat and bit sharply into her skin. She registered a thin cord around her neck as she was jerked back against a hard masculine body. The cord tightened, cutting off her air.
Choking, she clawed frantically at his hands, trying to get her fingers beneath the razor-thin band. It tightened even more, pulling at her hair and crushing her windpipe.
Spots danced before her eyes. The edges of her vision went black and a surge of pure panic shot through her. She twisted, still trying to get her hands under the cord biting into her flesh. The man lifted her off her feet and she struggled, accidentally kicking the trash can.
Desperate for help, she kicked violently, connecting again with the can. She managed to slam the heavy metal container into the wall. Her vision blurred as she distantly heard what she thought was the sound of the falling can.
She felt herself fading. A scream welled up, but she couldn’t get out even a sound. Terror flooded her.
Abruptly, the pressure around her throat eased and she fell, hitting her head on the corner of the sink. She was conscious enough to register a series of grunts and then a sickening thud against the tile.
Suddenly Griffin was on the floor beside her.
“Laura?” He leaned over her, moving her hair gently out of her face as he peered at her. “Laura?”
His face came into focus, his hard-edged features stamped with concern.
She lifted a shaky hand to her throbbing head.
“Can you breathe?” he asked.
She nodded, forcing words past her bruised throat as she gripped his hand. “What happened?”
“You were attacked.”
It had come too close on the heels of yesterday’s attack. Fear sliced through her like a blade, jamming her breath painfully in her chest. “He found me. Vin found me.”
“Looks that way.”
Everything went black.
THREE (#ulink_00c543e7-ccb0-5fd8-b0a2-d9488ab1c6ec)
It was the blood. There wasn’t even that much of it, but the sight of it had images ricocheting through Griffin’s mind. Seeing Laura crumpled on the floor brought back the ambush. The firefight. The searing pain in his broken femur as he carried Ace’s body down the rocky terrain.
This wasn’t the same. Griffin fought to push away the pictures. He carefully helped Laura to a sitting position, glad to see recognition creep across her chalk-white face.
Fear sharpened her pretty features. Eyes wide, she stared up at him. “Who just tried to kill me? Did you get them?”
Griffin shook his head. “I heard the noise in here and rushed to reach you. I only saw his shadow as he headed into the emergency stairwell. I headed straight for you, and Sydney went after the assailant. Did you see anything? Can you describe him?”
“No. He was behind me.”
“Did you notice anything about him? Cologne? Distinctive voice? Scars or tattoos?”
Laura thought hard. “There was something on his left wrist or hand. It might’ve been a tattoo. I don’t know. Everything happened so fast.”
The tattoo possibility was something at least, Griffin thought grimly.
“Laura?” Joy rushed into the ladies’ room, followed by Cheryl, the red-haired nurse. “What happened?”
“Are you all right?” The nurse moved closer, her gaze probing.
Laura struggled to stand and Griffin clasped her elbow to steady her. Once she was on her feet, he curled his hand lightly around her upper arm to make sure she stayed upright. She was still pale. And trembling.
Concern pinched Joy’s features as she looked her niece over. “What happened?”
“It was nothing.” Laura gave a wobbly smile. “I fainted and hit my head.”
“Knocked over the trash can,” Griffin added.
The last thing they needed was to draw attention to what had happened in here. That would bring hospital security at the least and maybe even OCPD. “She forgot to eat this morning.”
Beside him he felt her surprise, but she recovered quickly.
“Yes. I became light-headed and passed out.”
Her story was good and would hopefully minimize the scrutiny. Griffin saw the objection on Joy’s face and caught her gaze, hoping the older woman would understand to remain quiet. To his relief, she said nothing about the large morning meal they had all shared.
Cheryl’s brow furrowed. “Your neck is chafed and you’ve got a bump on your head.”
“I’ll have a headache and a bruise.” Laura touched the swelling at her hairline. “But I’m fine.”
The nurse looked skeptical but followed Laura out the restroom door. Laura reassured the redhead once more before the other woman left them.
As Laura turned to Joy, the stairwell door opened and Sydney rushed through. She was flushed, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.
She reached them, green eyes sparking with irritation. “Lost him in the parking lot.”
Joy speared all three of them with a stern look. “What really happened in there?”
Laura explained while Griffin stepped off to the side to speak with Sydney.
The brunette angled toward him, keeping him on her left in order to accommodate the hearing loss she’d sustained in a line-of-duty injury when she’d served as a sharpshooter on the SWAT team. Her gaze moved constantly over the area and its visitors.
“No sign of the assailant.”
Griffin shoved a hand through his hair, frowning at the sight of the swelling on Laura’s temple.
The man had slipped into the restroom, right past Griffin. What if he had arrived later? What if Laura had been hurt worse?
A greasy knot formed in his stomach. It wasn’t the same as what had happened in Afghanistan and if he quit right now, it never would be.
Sydney elbowed him, eyeing him with a certainty that said she knew he was blaming himself. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I think Boone should take over,” he said.
Joy and Laura walked up in time to hear him.
“Boone?” the older woman asked. She turned to Griffin. “Why do you think Boone should take over? Because that man managed to get to Laura in the ladies’ room?”
He nodded.
Laura shook her head. “But you got to me quickly. I’m fine.”
“See?” Sydney said quietly. “You’re the only one blaming you.”
Laura glanced from his coworker to him. “For what?”
Before Griffin could say anything, Sydney turned to Laura. “Would you like a different bodyguard? I’d be happy to step in. So would Boone.”
“No, I don’t want a new bodyguard. Why would I? Unless...” She looked at Griffin. “Do you have another client or another job?”
“No.”
She frowned. “Then do you have a problem with me?”
“No.” Griffin dragged a hand down his face. “Not at all.”
Sydney arched a brow as if to say “See?”
Laura stared up at him with confused blue eyes. “You probably aren’t used to babysitting someone. Is that the problem?”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“Like your aunt said, that guy slipped right past me,” he said through clenched teeth. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“No, it shouldn’t have.”
Griffin mentally kicked himself.
“But,” she continued, “it’s not your fault that it did.”
Sydney nodded. “That’s right.”
Laura gazed up at him earnestly. “I’d prefer it if you would stay with me through the entire process, but it’s your decision.”
There was no blame in her eyes or her voice. No resentment, either. It took a second for Griff to process that.
She probably wanted him to continue because she was too shaken by the attack to realize she’d be better off without him.
“I know you can keep me safe.”
He wished he were half as sure as she sounded. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then.” He couldn’t deny the warmth he felt at her vote of confidence. “Let’s get back to my house.”
She hesitated. “No.”
“No?” Had she really just said that? Griff drew up short. “Why not?”
“I want to see my dad first.”
“Not after what just happened,” he said bluntly.
“This is the best time.”
“How do you figure?” He tempered his voice, cognizant of the people around them. “Didn’t you just say you wanted me to stay with you through this? That you thought I could keep you safe? The safest thing is to get out of here.”
“I don’t want to take a stupid risk and if you really think I am, I’ll leave. But whoever tried to hurt me is gone. And probably won’t try anything else today. Plus Sydney is here if you want or need any backup. I want to see my dad.” Her voice cracked. “I need to see him.”
Sydney had combed the hospital and grounds, looking for the assailant. There had been no sign of the guy. He was long gone.
“There might not be another chance,” Laura said quietly.
She had a point. Griffin didn’t like it, but Laura was right about this being the best time to see her father.
After the syringe incident last night and now this, it was plain that someone had tipped off Arrico to Laura’s presence. If they stayed here, Griff could observe any suspicious behavior, see if anyone hovered around or seemed too interested in Laura or her father. Especially Nurse Cheryl, who had been nearby after both attacks.
“All right, I agree. Under one condition.
“What?”
“If I say it’s time to go, then we go.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
He nodded. They were staying. And he was still Laura’s bodyguard. He hoped she didn’t regret her decision. He hoped he didn’t, either.
* * *
After agreeing to meet Aunt Joy and Sydney later at Griffin’s house, Laura and Griffin headed down the hall. Thank goodness he’d agreed to let her see her dad. Two attacks in the past two days told Laura she might not get another chance.
Griffin slid a look at her. “I’d really like to check out your neck and head.”
“They’re sore but I think fine.”
“No nausea or dizziness from your fall?”
“No. Not yet, anyway.” Laura hoped she wouldn’t suffer further ill effects. Time was short and her father didn’t need any delays.
Griffin searched her face. “You’ll let me know if anything changes? If your neck or your head gets worse?”
She nodded, stopping near the nurse’s station to leave her purse and coat in a visitor’s locker.
They reached her dad’s room and she paused, surprised at the flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with what had just happened in the ladies’ room.
Griffin stopped, too. “Are you afraid he’ll be worse off than you imagine?”
“What if he doesn’t want to see me at all?” There, she’d said it. To a near stranger.
“I’m sure seeing you will make his day.”
Laura hoped so, but after what she’d done, she wasn’t so sure. Squaring her shoulders, she glanced up, surprised to see encouragement in his blue-green eyes.
She wanted to study his face. Instead, she turned toward the door to Nolan’s hospital room, saying a quick prayer that things would go well. “This could take a while. He might not be awake and I’d like to wait until he is.”
“I’ll be here, no matter how long it takes.”
“I appreciate that.”
He nodded.
She donned the required paper mask and gown, then pushed open the door and stepped inside. She was glad to see the drapes were partially open and light spilled into the room. Stopping at the foot of the bed, she grazed the knot at her hairline. Hopefully, it wasn’t noticeably swollen yet and her dad wouldn’t ask about it.
Nolan lay unmoving as he had last night and now Laura noticed things she hadn’t been close enough to see when she’d looked in on him. Dark circles beneath his eyes, the parchment-thin appearance of his skin. There were still a few threads of black hair sprinkled among the thick whiteness.
Overhead she heard the muffled thwump-thwump of a helicopter. The silence of the room was broken only by the hum of machines. Because she knew Griffin would allow no one to get past him, she addressed her father as she wanted. “Dad?”
He opened his eyes, fixing his filmy blue gaze on her for a moment before recognition flared. “Laura?”
His voice was tentative, as if he didn’t believe she was real. “Yes, it’s me,” she choked out.
Her heart beat hard in her chest and she realized her palms were clammy.
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
At his accusing tone, she stiffened, instantly defensive.
“Aunt Joy tracked me down. She told me you were ill.”
“And you came.”
“Yes.” Was he glad? Angry? She could tell nothing from his flat brittle voice.
He blinked slowly, almost as if he was too groggy to stay awake. Laura moved up the side of the bed. If he told her to leave, she wouldn’t do it. This might be her only chance—their only chance—to make any inroads. “I know this is probably the worst time to talk, but I really think we should.”
“We should.”
Relief flooded her.
Nolan peered hard at her. “What happened to your head?”
“Just bumped it. I’m fine.”
After a long moment, he labored out, “How did Joy find you?”
“She had someone track me down.”
“Someone from that agency of hers,” her father guessed.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Griffin Devaney.”
“Good man.” Nolan’s eyes fluttered as if it cost too much energy to keep them open, but he did. “Did you come so you could be tested as a donor?”
“Yes, and I’ve been cleared to be your donor, but that isn’t the only reason I came. I want to ask your forgiveness.”
“No.” He shifted on the bed, wincing.
Her heart sank, but she wasn’t leaving until she’d said what she needed to. “At least hear me out.”
“Not...what I meant.” Slowly, he lifted a hand and made a feeble gesture for her to come closer.
She moved up beside him, catching a faint whiff of his Old Spice aftershave mixed with the zing of antiseptic. His usually smiling face was haggard and wan, fatigue marking his mouth and eyes. The realization of just how ill he was shook her once more.
He grasped her hand, his grip weak. “I’m the one...who should...ask forgiveness.”
He seemed barely able to speak. Tears blurred her vision and she carefully squeezed his fingers.
“I never should’ve let you go,” he rasped.
“I left you.”
“Still, I should’ve kept trying to see you.” His voice grew faint.
“Don’t strain yourself. Let me do the talking, okay?”
“I...I have things to say, too.”
She smiled. “I know, but I don’t want you to overdo it.”
“Okay.”
“Even before I moved in with Vin, I knew how wrong things were between you and me. Knew it was my fault.” She found it encouraging that Nolan kept hold of her hand. “I’ve made so many mistakes.”
“So have I,” her father rasped.
After graduating from veterinarian school, she had stopped visiting him. He’d never approved of Vin and she’d needed a break from his constant criticism of her life. Still, Nolan had persisted in trying to see or talk to her. Things had been strained between them and the breaking point had come when she’d told him about her decision to move in with Vin.
Nolan had disowned her and she hadn’t seen him again until the trial a little over a year later. He had come every day and attempted to speak to her, but she had refused. Another mistake caused by resentment and stubborn pride.
He moved as if trying to sit up.
“No, Dad.” She pressed a hand to his shoulder, shocked to feel the sharp edges of his bones. “Stay still.”
He eased back onto the pillow. “I should’ve tried harder to get through to you, shouldn’t have let it go on as long as I did.”
“That’s on me. It wouldn’t have mattered how hard you tried. I was too ashamed and embarrassed about all the stupid things I’d done. About how right you were about Vin. I couldn’t face you.”
“I’m not proud of the way I behaved, either.” He drew in a deep breath, pain creasing his waxy features.
Growing concerned, she eased closer. “Is there something I can do to help you with the pain? More morphine?”
“No. If I take more, it will knock me out and I want to talk to you.”
She wanted the same. Who knew how many more chances they would have.
“I want to put things right between us,” he said. “But I know it won’t be easy. Can you forgive me for being so stubborn?”
This was more than she had hoped.
“Yes,” she said in a shaky voice. “I need your forgiveness, too. I was a foolish, stupid girl.”
“You’re still my girl and you always will be. I love you.”
“What I did was so wrong. You were right all along about everything.” She wiped at her eyes, giving a small laugh. “I bet you never thought you’d hear that.”
A ghost of a smile hovered on his lips. “I’ve missed you.”
“I acted like an idiot.”
“We both made mistakes, honey.”
Laura could hardly fathom her strict unbending father admitting to mistakes. Perhaps the years had softened him. Or maybe it was the disease ravaging his body. She wasn’t sure she deserved Nolan’s understanding, but she wanted it. Wanted to start fresh for whatever time they had left.
The burden of guilt and resentment and shame she’d been carrying rolled right off of her. Thank You, Lord. For his forgiveness and Yours.
He was fading fast. Laura bent over him. “It’s okay to sleep, Dad. I’ll be in town until the transplant is finished. We’ll be able to talk again.”
If Vin didn’t get to her first.
“My first filgrastim injection is tomorrow. I’ll stop by and see you again if I can.” She would have injections on five consecutive days. The drug would move more blood-forming cells from her bone marrow to her bloodstream in preparation for the donation. “Four days after that, I can make my donation and you can receive the transplant.”
Nolan was fighting drowsiness and he looked even more pallid than when she’d come in. “Laura, girl, I...”
The door opened and Laura turned to see a frowning Griffin enter with a stocky bald man. Both were wearing paper gowns and masks. A clerical collar showed beneath the other man’s protective garment.
Griffin’s gaze went over the visitor’s head to find Laura. “The pastor says Nolan is expecting him.”
The other man came toward her, hand extended. “I’ve already met your young man. I’m Rick Hughes, a chaplain on staff here.”
Laura doubted Griffin cared for the assumption that they were a couple, but like him, she wouldn’t correct the error. Warily polite, she shook the man’s hand. “I’m Laura Parker.”
“Rick, Laura’s my—” Nolan broke off, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.
Laura held her breath and Griffin moved to stand beside her. She drew in his unique scent. He had instructed her and Joy to be careful about saying anything that might hint at the fact that they were related. Her dad knew this, too, but the medication lowered his guard. She hoped he didn’t blurt something out.
Nolan struggled to speak. “Laura’s my...donor.”
Relieved, she glanced at Griffin, who looked relieved, as well.
“That’s very generous of you.” The pastor walked to the opposite side of the bed. “I’ve been praying with Nolan’s sister, Joy. Maybe you’ll be the miracle he needs.”
“I hope so.” She relaxed slightly, but her bodyguard didn’t.
Instead, he eased closer, close enough that his arm brushed her shoulder, reassuring her.
After some quiet words to Nolan, Hughes glanced at Laura. “When do you start your injections?”
“Tomorrow,” Nolan answered for her. “She’s not wasting any time.”
Beside her she felt Griffin tense. “You seem to know a lot about the procedure.”
“One of my parishioners had it done about three years ago.”
“Do you make regular visits to this floor?” he asked the chaplain.
“If there are patients who request it, yes.” Hughes smiled. “Sometimes a doctor will ask me to drop in on someone. After that it’s up to the patient if they continue to see me.”
“So you see patients in other hospitals?” Griffin asked.
“Wherever I’m needed.”
“Have you been coming to OU Medical Center long?”
“Almost ten years.”
“And before that?”
“I was a missionary in Honduras.”
Laura frowned. It sounded as if Griffin was interrogating the man, although the pastor didn’t seem to mind. Was her protector bothered by something or was he just getting information?
Rick’s hazel eyes shone warmly at Laura. “How long have you known Nolan?”
Was the pastor making friendly conversation or fishing for information? Griffin must have wondered the same, because he shifted, putting his body slightly, protectively in front of her. “Several years,” she answered.
“Yes,” her father said weakly, still grasping her hand. “We’ve known each other a long time.”
Hughes nodded. “I met Nolan during his initial hospital stay after he was first diagnosed.”
“That was about nine months ago, wasn’t it?” Griffin asked.
“Yes.” Rick glanced at the patient, concern crossing his round features.
Laura checked her father. His eyes fluttered as he fought the effects of the painkiller.
She squeezed his hand. “We’ll let you rest now.”
She wasn’t sure he heard her, but he gave her fingers a light squeeze. When his hold went limp, she gently laid his hand on his chest and studied him for a moment.
Griffin cleared his throat and she realized he held the door open, waiting for her. She quietly walked outside followed by the chaplain and Griffin, who closed the door.
Rick Hughes walked a few yards with them, then stopped in front of another patient room. “I need to drop in on someone else. It was nice to meet you both. I’ll probably see you again if you visit Nolan.”
Griffin said nothing while Laura gave a noncommittal response.
“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Rick offered.
He seemed sincere. “Thank you,” Laura said.
As she continued down the long hallway with Griffin, she noticed that he frequently glanced over his shoulder. They stopped to pick up her things, then made their way to the empty waiting area.
“Are you suspicious of the pastor?” she asked.
“Right now I’m suspicious of everyone.”
That was probably good, though the act of always being wary made her tired. She didn’t want to leave her father, but she didn’t want to take any chances, either. “Thanks again for letting me see him.”
He took her elbow to steer her toward the elevator and inside. Despite his relaxed appearance, energy pulsed from him. She had no doubt he could move in one flat second if necessary. Before the doors closed, his sharp gaze scanned the hall like a laser.
Seemingly satisfied that she was as secure as possible, Griffin turned to her. “How was Nolan before I came in with the chaplain?”
“Frail, but he was alert. We spoke for a few minutes.”
Hit all over again with just how fragile her father’s health was, her throat tightened.
Griffin frowned. “Your conversation didn’t go well?”
“It did.” She sniffed, looking into his steady sea-green eyes. “He said he was glad I came. He forgave me.”
“And you forgave him?” the former SEAL asked gruffly.
“Yes.” They really had made progress. Relief and astonishment and gratitude flooded her. She dabbed at the sudden tears in her eyes.
Griffin looked confused. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It’s very good.” She opened her purse, looking for a tissue. “Sorry.”
“Here.” A handkerchief with her aunt’s trademark embroidery appeared under her nose, small and delicate in his large sun-darkened hand.
She glanced up.
He smiled. “Your aunt has given one to all of us at Enigma.”
With a small laugh, she wiped her eyes. He flashed a half smile and her nerves shimmered in reaction.
Their gazes locked and something flickered in his eyes before they shuttered against her.
He glanced away. “Were you able to tell Nolan everything you wanted?”
“Yes,” she answered slowly. “I wish we’d had more time to talk, but the morphine makes him so groggy.”
“Did he apologize?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Crumpling the handkerchief in her hand, she tilted her head. “Why is that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I don’t know the whole story, but from what I do know, it sounded as though he should.”
For some reason, his words warmed her. “Thanks.”
He nodded, searching her face.
She couldn’t seem to look away from him. His rugged appearance was in stark contrast to the kindness in his eyes. She couldn’t deny that she found him appealing. Very appealing.
She frowned at the unexpected, unwelcome realization.
“I’m not sure you’ll be able to see him again.”
Why had he said that? Because her father wouldn’t make it?
Or you might not, she reminded herself, gingerly touching the raw mark circling her throat.
“Coming here is too risky. This may have to be our last visit to the hospital.”
Her heart sank. At least she and Dad had started to put things right.
“Sorry. I just don’t know if it will be a good idea to stop and visit him when you go to the clinic for your injections. Enigma has a doctor on call. I’ll talk to her and see if she can come to my house to give you the injections.”
Enigma had its own doctor. Wow. From the information packet she had been given to read, Laura knew the middle three shots of filgrastim could be given anywhere, but she hadn’t considered Griffin might want to do it at his house. Having the doctor come there would restrict Laura’s movements even more.
Which meant she’d be spending a lot more time with the former SEAL.
“Looks like I’ll be taking further advantage of your hospitality.”
As manufactured as her life had been in WitSec, things had still seemed more simple before she met Griffin Devaney.
She liked him, but she wouldn’t be here long enough for that to matter. Even if she were out of WitSec and able to stay, these days she listened only to her head. She was all about smart, rational decisions.
And smart was not a six-foot-plus ex-SEAL with blue-green eyes and a slow grin.
FOUR (#ulink_7381d8cb-88eb-56fe-b392-8300166e3643)
Things had gone okay for the rest of their stay at the hospital. Still, Griffin didn’t breathe easy until he and Laura were back at his house late that afternoon. The assailant had gotten past him. He was rattled and that angry red mark circling her neck didn’t help.
He still wasn’t sure if remaining as her bodyguard was the right call, but he’d agreed. He wouldn’t go back on his word. And she wouldn’t be attacked again, no matter what he had to do.
On the ride home, he had asked several random questions in an attempt to determine if she had suffered a concussion. She didn’t appear to have one. Now she sat at his kitchen table, her features drawn and tired. The knot at her hairline was now swollen to the size of a quarter and starting to turn blue.
Joy was on her way here with Boone Winslow, who was standing in for Sydney this evening. Opening his first-aid kit, Griffin took out a tube of antibiotic ointment and uncapped it. He started to give the medicine to Laura, but she looked completely done in.
He squeezed some ointment onto a cotton swab and leaned down, gently tipping her head to the side. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”
“I’m not worried.” She gave him a faint smile.
As lightly as possible, he dabbed the ointment on the vicious-looking abrasion around her neck.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Just fine. Thanks.”
Her silky hair hung across one shoulder, sliding across the back of his hand as he worked. Satisfied that he’d done what he could for her injuries, he capped the ointment and tossed it into the first-aid kit. Then he gingerly checked the knot at her hairline.
When she winced, white-hot anger rushed through him. Griffin wanted to pound the guy who’d tried to kill her.
“Good thinking to kick over that trash can,” he said, easing down into the chair adjacent to hers. “Have you remembered anything else about the guy who did this? Besides the possible tattoo on his wrist?”
“No. I’ll let you know if I do.”
The light in her eyes was gone and Griffin found himself wishing he knew how to put it back. “How are you feeling? Hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Do you need some ibuprofen for your head or neck?”
“No, thanks.” She didn’t seem to need or want anything. Maybe her time in WitSec had taught her that. If Griffin hadn’t thought she was strong before, he sure did now. Not only because she was still standing after being attacked twice in the past forty-eight hours, but also because she was still determined to do whatever was necessary to help her father.
Griffin couldn’t comprehend how she seemed able to just forgive her father or how her father could’ve forgiven her so easily. He knew it couldn’t be that easy. Could it? He’d never heard of anyone who’d done anything like that. He sure hadn’t forgiven Emily and they had broken up almost four years ago.
He searched his mind for a way to keep Laura engaged. “How long has it been since you’ve spoken to your dad?”
He expected her to say ten months, the length of time she’d been in WitSec.
“My graduation from vet school, three years ago. We didn’t part on good terms.”
He shifted toward her. “What happened?”
“I rebelled. Against my dad and God. It started after my mom died from cancer. It was a pattern of bad behavior that went on too long.”
“Until you turned evidence on Arrico?”
“Yes, although that didn’t fix things with my dad.”
“Were things always rocky between you two?”
“Not until my mom passed. I was seventeen, a junior in high school, and spent as little time as possible with him. The guys I dated were his complete opposite. Forbidden. I grew apart from him and apart from God, too.”
“Maybe God grew apart from you,” Griffin suggested quietly. That was what had happened to him on an Afghan mountain four years ago.
“I told myself that for a long time, but the truth is God was always there. I’m the one who turned away from Him.”
Griffin wasn’t sure he agreed. He’d lost God during a disastrous mission in the Hindu Kush that had also cost his career and the lives of his three teammates. God’s absence had been confirmed when he’d returned home and Emily had dumped him for someone else. “You met Arrico when he brought his injured dog into the school’s teaching vet clinic?”
“How do you know that?” she asked sharply.
“Marshal Yates and the trial transcripts.”
After a moment, she continued, “Back then I was looking for trouble. Vin asked me out. I accepted. Two months later, I moved in with him. Bad decision in more ways than one.”
Regret was written all over her pretty face. “Which you realized the night he hit you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Before that, actually, but that’s when I finally left.”
“So, you found evidence of his drug dealing and human trafficking, and took it to the FBI?” he prompted.
She nodded. “The case didn’t go to trial for a year and I was under FBI protection until it wrapped up.”
“Then Arrico tried to kill you in a drive-by shooting. Which explains why you’re in WitSec.”
“Did Floyd also tell you that?” she asked accusingly, her voice taut.
He realized she must feel that her life wasn’t her own, which it wasn’t. “The Marshals moved you to Pueblo and you’ve been there ten months, safe and sound.”
“Until now,” she muttered.
He tried to imagine how he would feel if his control were taken away like that. “You seem okay with giving up your life.”
“Do I?” Her blue eyes were weary. “I wasn’t at first. I was angry and bitter and resentful. WitSec was my only
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