Federal Agent Under Fire Page 8

  * * *

  THE LANE HOME was bigger than Blake had expected, a stately affair with white columns and a long blacktop driveway. The expansive property was beautiful, but impossible to protect with his limited manpower. There was at least a quarter mile between neighbors.

  He stopped at the end of the tree-lined drive, unsure where to park. “You grew up here?” A new Jeep with two bright orange kayaks on top sat outside an oversized detached garage. “Is that Kara’s car?”

  “No. That’s my mom’s.”

  A moment later, Marissa’s door closed behind her. She was halfway up the walk before he shifted into Park.

  Marissa’s arms stretched wide as an older version of herself launched off the porch and wrapped her in a rocking hug.

  He ejected his key from the ignition and stretched onto his feet outside the cab.

  The six-man sheriff’s department in Shadow Point was already in over its head, and his team was working at capacity. There was no way he could properly protect a property this size. He moved slowly up the walk, thinking of how to keep the Lanes safe. Maybe his dad could invite himself over for a while. One trained man inside with the family was a smarter move than five wandering the property anyway.

  He turned his phone in his palm and sent his father a text.

  “Mom, this is Blake Garrett,” Marissa said, drawing his attention back to the women on the walk. “He’s the federal agent heading up the case.”

  The apparent note of pride in her voice stirred something loose in his chest. “Hello.” He struggled to ignore the emotion and concentrate on making a good impression. After all, he was there to deliver the heinous details of a madman’s actions, and ask this woman to trust him with her daughter’s life. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lane.” He shook the woman’s hand. “Kara’s not here yet?”

  Marissa’s mom dragged her gaze back to Marissa’s beat-up face. Her expression teetered between horror and confusion. “Not yet. She’s on her way. Why?”

  Blake did the numbers mentally. If Kara had been anywhere in town, and spoken to her mom before Marissa had, then Kara should’ve beaten them there. Even if she’d stopped somewhere along the way, she should have arrived by now. “When was the last time you spoke with her?”

  Mrs. Lane shook her head. “She just texts. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”

  He forced a tight smile, hoping to break the unbearable tension and get down to business. Kara was late and that was bad. “We’re having trouble reaching her by phone.”

  “I’ll send her a text. I’m sure she’s gotten distracted by a rare bird or pack of Boy Scouts, or anything really. Kara’s like that.” Mrs. Lane took her time looking Blake over. Her worn blue jeans and white thermal shirt looked nearly as casual as her bare feet and sagging ponytail. Marissa had clearly been cut from this cloth. “You know, I’ve lived in Shadow Point all my life, even raised two daughters here, but I believe you’re the first Garrett to show up on my doorstep.”

  He rested his hands on his hips, unreasonably pleased to know none of his brothers had been here before him. “Is that so?”

  “I’ve heard a lot of interesting things about your family.”

  Blake didn’t love the way she’d said interesting. “Nothing too bad, I hope.”

  “Depends who’s telling the stories.”

  Marissa blushed. “Mom.”

  “Ah.” Blake had heard it all before. The Garretts were testosterone-driven cavemen, womanizers, married to the law and addicted to the chase. The last accusation wasn’t limited to bad guys. “We’re not so bad.”

  The front door opened with a snap, and a man Blake’s father’s age stepped onto the porch. His no-nonsense stance and heavy frown screamed military. No wonder Marissa had been able to fight Nash off. This man seemed the sort to require combat training before starting public kindergarten. “Well, don’t just stand around in the open with a target on your backs,” he demanded.

  Marissa jogged up the wide front steps and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Hi, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek with a relieved smile. His face went soft for a fleeting moment before turning sternly back to Blake.

  “That lunatic’s face is on every news station.”

  Marissa released him, and he gave her a closer look. “Good heavens.” He skimmed a parental palm over her cheek, gently pushing the blond hair off her shoulder, revealing the evidence of Nash’s fingers on her throat. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “I told you yesterday. I was attacked. I fought him off,” she said, flinging hair back over the marks on her neck. “Ran to the road and got a ride to the police station.”

  Her dad looked at her mom. “She got into a stranger’s car after being attacked.”

  Getting into cars with strangers wasn’t a move Blake personally recommended, but she was fleeing a crime scene. She needed help. “She’s a fighter,” Blake interjected with a ripple of misplaced pride.

  “I know that,” her father snapped. “Where were you while this was happening to my daughter?” He raised his hand to the bruising on her face.

  “Louisville. I came as soon as I got the call from Sheriff Garrett. Thanks to Marissa, we were able to positively identify the man who did this. We put his name and face on the news hoping someone can help us find him.”

  Marissa motioned Blake to her side and gave the driveway a longing look, no doubt hoping for Kara’s car to appear. “Come on,” she said. “We can wait inside.”

  “That’s what I said,” her father grouched.

  They were greeted by a soaring foyer with winding wooden stairs to the second floor. The floor plan was open. Walls were drenched in earth tones and family photos of the Lanes over the years. A fire roared in an exquisite stone fireplace at the head of their gathering room.

  Blake took note of the expansive windows throughout and patio doors in both the dining and kitchen area. Too many access points. “Do you have a home security system, Mr. Lane?”

  Marissa’s dad cast a look over his shoulder as they moved past the stairs toward the kitchen. “The wife and I have matching rifles and fifty years’ experience knocking dust off tin cans. Does that count?”

  Everything about him said he’d hit more than tin cans. “It helps,” Blake admitted, “but a direct line to the authorities would be better. I’d like to station a man here until this blows over.”

  Mr. Lane stopped moving where wide-planked wooden floors turned to mosaic tile. “I’ll accept help during the night shift. I can handle things during the day.”

  That was reasonable, but unacceptable. His dad would have to bring a rocker and sit on the porch then. “I’d also like to see Kara stay with you for a few days,” Blake said.

  “What about Marissa?” her father asked.

  With enough men stationed here, Blake could probably keep her safe. He could take double shifts and bring additional people to protect the property. Hell, his cousin owned a private security firm, but something told Blake not to let her out of his sight. Whether it was professional instinct or plain personal interest, he couldn’t say and didn’t care. “I think she’s safer with my team, sir.”

  Marissa squeezed between the men. “I smell coffee. Is there coffee?” She grabbed Blake’s wrist and towed him to a granite-topped island. “Black?”

  “Yes.” He swung his attention to her mother who busily tapped her cell phone screen. “When did you get the last text from Kara?”

  Marissa set a mug in front of him, then lined four more cups on the counter. She filled three to their rims and eagerly lifted one to her lips.

  Her mom folded her arms, clearly uneasy. “Not long ago. Maybe forty minutes, but she was finishing a hike. Then, she needed to run home for some clean things to change into.”

  Marissa’s shoulders collapsed. The coffee danced inside her mug from the slight trembles wracking her
upper body.

  Blake imagined folding her against his chest and telling her everything was going to be okay. Hell, if he could just put a hand over hers like he had in his truck, but she was flanked by her parents. A moment later, she leaned into her dad. “We were just at her house. She wasn’t there.”

  Her mom paled. “Why were you at her house? Do you think something happened to her? What aren’t you telling us?”

  Blake ran his thumbs over the screen of his phone. “I’ll check with Cole and see if she showed after we left, or if the neighbors remember seeing her before we got there.”

  He lifted his eyes to Marissa and her parents. “I’m truly sorry to be here under these circumstances. What does Kara drive and which direction would she have been coming? You said she’d planned to stop at her home before coming here?”

  Marissa tapped her phone screen, presumably still trying to reach her sister. “She drives a Jeep like Mom and me. It’s gunmetal gray. She bought it new last summer.” She pressed the heel of one hand against her right eye. “She was hiking when I talked to her, too.”

  Her mother’s jaw dropped. “You spoke to her? All I get are texts and little cartoon faces.”

  “I called her. She answered.” Marissa set her phone on the counter. “I wish she’d just answer now.”

  Blake sent the make and model of Kara’s car to his and West’s teams. “Where was she hiking? We can contact gas stations between there and her home.”

  Marissa’s face reddened. “I didn’t ask.”

  Mrs. Lane let out a sharp breath and fixed Blake with a pointed stare. “She wouldn’t be in the national park after what happened to Marissa, but there’s no telling where she went. Now. Enough of this. Tell me what’s going on and why my daughters are involved.”

  Mr. Lane crossed his arms and moved beside his wife.

  Blake pushed his cup aside, shoring up the energy to lay it all out from the beginning. “It started for me about five years ago.”

  Forty-five minutes later, and seated around the living room with Marissa at his side, the story had been told, and the Lanes’ questions had all been answered. Expect for the most important one. Where was Kara?

  No one had seen her, and she hadn’t answered her phone in two hours.

  The realization that Kara wasn’t coming arrived on the heels of a detailed description from Marissa about the last two days, including the strange luggage and ominous veil on Kara’s porch.

  Blake had let her take the lead on those events. They were hers to tell, personal in ways he wished they weren’t. He’d filled in the larger aspects of the case and the role he’d played in it from the beginning.

  Marissa pressed her hands to her face and stifled a small sob, the first she’d allowed today, despite all she’d seen. To Blake’s surprise, she leaned against his side and set her head against his shoulder.

  Blake wrapped an arm around her and turned his mouth toward her hair. “We’ll find her, I promise.” He inhaled the soft scent of her shampoo and imagined idly waking up to it every morning. The notion took him off guard. Blake hadn’t had thoughts like that in a very long time. Reasonably so. Still, he liked the idea of knowing Marissa long after this case was closed. He tipped his cheek to her head in wonder.

  Her mother’s eyebrows rose. Her father’s eyes narrowed.

  Blake was as shocked as they were by the bond forming between him and Marissa, but she needed his strength at the moment and he wasn’t going to let her go for a few judgmental looks. He’d fix the mess he created five years ago and bring Kara home safely to the Lanes.

  He wasn’t the sort of man who broke promises.

  * * *

  BLAKE’S PHONE BUZZED for the thirtieth time in as many minutes. He’d received nearly nonstop texts and emails as they’d told her parents about Nash Barclay. Until now, Blake had shared the information. This time, though, he excused himself to take the call.

  Marissa followed him through the house and watched from the front window as he paced the porch.

  Her mom and dad moved in on her like bookends, each winding one arm across her back. “Do you trust him?” her mother asked. “Can he do the things he says? Bring Kara home? Catch this maniac?”

  “Yes.” Marissa felt the truth of the words in her core. “We don’t know where Kara is yet, but if we find out she’s in trouble, then I trust Blake to bring her home.”

  Her dad harrumphed. “I think you’d be better off staying with us while he goes back into the field. You’re our top priority. Let the sonofagun who’s doing this be his. With you here, Agent Garrett can actively hunt this man.”

  Marissa’s muscles bunched, the way they always seemed to at the thought of leaving Blake’s side. Nash was probably watching them, even now, and staying together was smart. Besides, staying at her parents’ home could put them in danger. She eased the sheer curtain aside with her fingertips and attempted to decode his muffled voice through the glass.

  “He’s too distracted,” her dad continued. “Troubled. That’s no way to lead an investigation.”

  Marissa gave her dad a sad smile. “You heard him. He blames himself for what happened to those women.”

  “And you,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “This is happening to you, too, and your sister. This isn’t about some strangers. My daughters are involved now.” His voice cracked, and he turned away with a curse.

  “I know,” Marissa said. In fact, Nash was only after Kara because Marissa had gotten away. That was on her.

  The front door opened, and Blake poked his head inside. “Time to go. They’ve got a lead on the truck.”

  Marissa drifted away from her parents. “And Kara?”

  He shook his head infinitesimally. “Not yet.”

  “Don’t go,” her mom pleaded.

  Marissa went back to squeeze her mom. “I’m going to be okay, and you can reach me anytime you want at the number I called from earlier, okay? I won’t be alone. I’ve got Blake and his team, plus the sheriff and his deputies looking out for me.”

  Frustration burned in her dad’s cheeks. His eyes were glossed with fear. “Anything happens to her, Garrett, and I’m holding you responsible.”

  Blake moved into their home, standing close and strong at Marissa’s back. “Sir, you can rest assured that I will protect both your daughters at any cost.”

  Her dad’s chin wobbled. “Do that.”

  Blake’s hand was on Marissa’s waist, turning her toward the waiting truck. “Time to go.”

  She took one last look at her parents, then let Blake lead her away. Frightened as she was for whatever lay ahead, Marissa was certain she could face it with Blake. She was also thankful for how shockingly natural it felt to lean on him for support. Yesterday, he’d been a stranger, and today he was her friend. More than that. Was there even a word to explain all Blake had become for her? The way he willingly shouldered her burdens? No one had ever done that, and Blake wasn’t only strong when she was weak, but he was intuitive and kind. She trusted him to get her through whatever came next, and with a little luck that wouldn’t involve any more bodies of Nash’s victims.

  Her baby sister’s included.

  Chapter Seven

  Blake shifted into Drive and inched toward the road, discouraged by the Lanes’ vast amount of land and lack of nosy neighbors. Hopefully his dad wouldn’t be much longer. He’d responded affirmatively to Blake’s text request for him to drop in on Marissa’s family. Leaving the Lanes alone wasn’t Blake’s first choice, but he was needed at the station, and his dad was a solid stand-in. The town’s former sheriff had training, experience and an innate compulsion to protect and serve. Exactly what the Lanes needed in a bodyguard.

  Marissa turned weary eyes on Blake. “What happened? Where are we going?”

  “Back to the sheriff’s department. Cole says there’s been an o
nslaught of sightings since the media picked up Nash’s story, and they need help taking statements. He’s pulled in a handful of volunteers meeting with folks in person, and West has Mom’s quilting club manning the phones.”

  Marissa kneaded her hands on her lap. “You didn’t get bad news about Kara then.”

  “No.” Blake paused at the end of the Lanes’ driveway. “I wouldn’t keep news about your sister from you.”

  The street was quiet, no traffic, no vehicles parked curbside. That was all good, but a jogger rounding the distant bend set off his internal radar. Blake added pressure to the brake, stopping to monitor the man. “You recognize him?”

  “No.” Marissa leaned forward. “He’s too far away.”

  “All right.” Blake freed his side arm and rested it against his thigh, then eased onto the road, moving them slowly in the man’s direction.

  His face was hidden beneath the shadow of a high-end hoodie. The brand symbol was printed in reflective silver across his chest. He had the posture of a runner. His strides were steady and evenly paced. He didn’t appear to be out of breath or excessively distracted. No indication of unusual interest in the surrounding properties, specifically the Lanes’.

  He looked into the truck’s window and lifted a hand in greeting as they crawled past.

  Marissa relaxed against the seatback. “It’s not him.”

  Blake slid his trigger finger out of position, curling it back with the others. “Good.” He reholstered his sidearm and tried to ignore the pinch of disappointment. If the jogger had been Nash, Blake could’ve watched his expression as he made him pay for everything he’d done.

  Marissa twisted in her seat belt, straining to look through the back window. “Someone’s turning onto my parents’ drive.” Panic raised her soft voice to a new octave. “I don’t know that truck.”

  The small black Ford disappeared from sight in Blake’s rearview as it motored toward the Lane home. “I asked my dad to stop by. See if there’s anything he can do to curb their fears.”

  “You sent him to guard them?” Her voice quivered on the last word.