CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Chloe glanced at the digital clock next to her bed.
Six-thirty.
Bobby was probably already up and dressed, having breakfast with her new husband, preparing for a quiet day in Westen. Dylan was calling her in half an hour. For the first time in their lives, her little sister was tackling a problem for her, protecting her.
The idea ate at Chloe’s mind and made her chest hurt. Bobby had always been the one to guide them, keep them together, provide the safe home life for them. Chloe’s job was to protect them out in the world. Prevent bullies from picking on her brilliant little sister and her loyal, hard-working big sister. Now, because some dick in her life decided she was a possession they wanted to have or destroy, Dylan was going to tell their older, pregnant sister something that could put her and her child into danger.
Sometimes, life sucked.
The bed creaked and dipped behind Chloe as Wes turned on his side. A moment later his heavy masculine arm draped over her hip and came to rest on her abdomen.
“I can hear your brain working, counselor,” he mumbled into the curve of her neck, his warm breath sending tingling throughout her body.
Despite the need to get up and pace, she snuggled back against his body. Damn, the man was like her own personal heating blanket.
“It’s going to be okay, Chloe,” he murmured before latching his lips onto that special spot on her neck for a moment. “Bulldog has Dylan with him. I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else. He’ll keep her safe. Gage is with Bobby. He’d sooner die than let anything happen to her. You know that, don’t you?”
Laying her arm over his, she let some of his strength seep through the fear rolling around inside her. “I know they would protect them from any physical threat.”
“But?”
“Dylan’s about to tell the sister that raised us like a mother that someone is stalking me, and from the condition of my apartment, means to hurt me. I’m afraid it might make her lose the baby. The child she put on hold to raise two orphaned sisters.”
His arm tightened around her. “You didn’t see your sister last spring crawl into that hole to take the air tank down to Gage. She’s a lot tougher than you’re giving her credit.”
With a wiggle, she moved onto her back to stare at him in the shifting light as dawn approached. “I know Bobby is tough. She wouldn’t have lasted nearly two decades in the education system and raise two sisters on her own if she weren’t tough. It’s just, this situation is different.”
“How?”
“It’s the baby. If we tell her this news and something happens…something that makes her lose this baby. I’d never forgive myself.”
He reached up and smoothed some strands of hair off her face. “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask someone to go crazy and start stalking you. Besides, you don’t know that telling her will have any effect on her pregnancy.”
“See, that’s the problem. Dylan told me something she heard a nurse say when she was in medical school. It stuck with her and me.”
“What was that?” he asked, sounding truly interested.
“The nurse said pregnancy is a natural state, not a normal one. Pregnancy and all the hormones that go with it aren’t something women do daily. It’s a unique set of circumstances and stresses on the body. No two women’s bodies react the same. No two pregnancies are the same. Some sail through it, no problems, not even morning sickness. Some get high blood pressure, some develop diabetes. If the doctors remember the natural vs normal rule, it would explain all the weird ways women’s bodies reacted to each pregnancy.”
“And you’re afraid Bobby’s body might react poorly to the news that you’re in danger?”
“Normal stress? Bobby can handle it. A threat to Dylan or me? I’m just afraid at her age, it might be too much for her this early in the pregnancy.”
He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “I predict you sister and her baby are going to be just fine. In fact, we have something worse to worry about.”
“What?” she asked seeing the lift of his brow. “My stalker finding us here?”
“No. Worse.”
She scrunched her brows together. “What could be worse than that asshole showing up here?”
“Gage finding out not only that you’ve been with me the whole time, but alone in my cabin for two days.”
Before she could pin him down as to why he thought that was the worst thing about this whole situation a whining came from the other room. She sat up on her elbows to see Wöden sitting by the backdoor.
“Ah, nature calls, huh big boy?” Wes said.
Wöden gave a little yip.
“Okay, I’m coming.” Wes climbed out of the bed, pulled on the jeans and thermal shirt he’d discarded last night.
As he strode through the cabin to the back door, she realized she really like the way he moved. Graceful, in a masculine hunter kind of way. Arms and legs in a rhythm that shouted, I’m relaxed at the moment, but any kind of threat and I’m all business.
He turned around and headed for the bathroom, stopping in the doorway to look at her. “Why don’t you get dressed, we’ll have some coffee and then you can use my phone to call Bobby.”
As she climbed out of the bed and hustled into a clean set of clothes while shivering enough to be a human blender, Chloe couldn’t help grinning. If any other man had given her instructions on what to do she would’ve told him where to shove it and done exactly what she wanted. But Wes wasn’t issuing orders to the little woman. She understood that. He was merely suggesting how she could relax before calling Bobby. They’d been together only a couple of days, known each other a few weeks and he already understood her obsession with coffee and its effects on her better than any man she’d ever dated.
By the time he’d vacated the bathroom to her and she’d gotten all her morning stuff out of the way, she entered the kitchen to the aroma of coffee and cinnamon.
“Keep me posted, Brad,” Wes said, then laid his phone on the counter.
“Brad?” she asked as he handed her a mug.
“Bryerson, the detective I know in Cincinnati. He said normally it would be weeks before they had the forensic results from your place, but he’s putting a rush on it. While he’s waiting, he’s going to get access to street cameras in the area. Maybe that will give us a lead on your stalker.”
“Good idea.” She took a long drink of the coffee. “Cinnamon?”
“Yep. Full of antioxidants and it smells good,” he said before drinking some of his.
Suddenly, a loud banging sounded outside.
Before she knew it, Wes had both mugs of coffee on the counter and her on the floor, his body on top of hers.
“What was that?” she asked once she caught her breath.
“Rifle fire,” he said, his breathing a little faster.
“Someone’s hunting in this weather?”
“You could say that. That was a sniper rifle. Can you stay down here for a moment?” he asked, staring down at her with those intensely, now very serious eyes.
“Yes. What are you going to do?”
“Just gonna check it out.” Slowly, he lifted off her body and looked down at her bare feet. “It’s probably nothing, but why don’t you put your boots on. The ones I picked out. You know, just in case.”
Just in case the crazy stalker is outside and aiming a sniper rifle at them and they needed to book like rabbits at a greyhound race.
Yeah, nothing to worry about.
She started to rise and his hand grabbed her arm from where he crouched next to the cabinets. “I’d feel a lot better if you’d crawl, counselor.”
“Well, since you put it that way.”
Getting on her hands and knees, she crawled to the door and grabbed her boots, then hurried around to the far side of the counter away from the windows and door. As she wiggled her feet into the new leather hiking boots she watched Wes crawl around the cabin to retrieve his gun and holster. A man who took his own advice.
He crab-walked over to the backdoor, pulled on his winter coat, then paused with one hand on the door the other gripping his gun. “Don’t let anyone in but me.”
Yeah, like I was planning to invite whoever has that gun in for tea.
She nodded, refraining the sarcasm on the tip of her tongue. He nodded, then turned the handle, inching the door open.
Nothing happened.
He cast her another look, one that said stay here.
She nodded.
With one smooth motion and keeping low, he opened the door and slid out onto the porch.
Gunfire sounded again. This time with the loud wail from an animal.
Wöden.
* * * * *
As she cleaned out the department’s coffee pot, Bobby fought down the urge to run to the office’s bathroom and hurl up the toast she’d managed to eat at home. Before, when she wasn’t pregnant the smell of old burnt coffee left in the pot nauseated her. Now it was worse. Giving in to the urge to empty her stomach would only serve one purpose, though—convince Gage she should’ve stayed home this morning like he suggested.
Seriously, only half-way into the first trimester of this pregnancy and already he was flexing his big alpha dog muscles in over-protectionism. He loved her and was worried. She got that. But come on. If they were going to get through this without him locking her in a sterile room and her bashing him over the head, she was going to have to show him there was nothing to worry about. To do that, she needed to function normally. That meant not missing work and not giving into morning sickness, no matter how rank the coffee pot smelled.
First chance she got though, she was having serious words with Jason, the department’s youngest deputy and regular night shift worker. The guy needed to empty this pot during the night and turn off the burner. At least for a few weeks. If not, she’d promise to reserve all her morning sickness for his shoes.
Wha-la. One problem solved.
She set the clean pot back in the machine.
Now to tackle her next problem. Where the hell is Chloe?
Sitting at her desk, she pulled out her cell phone, double checking that she had the ringer on and not on vibrate—a habit she’d developed while teaching so her phone wouldn’t interrupt class.
Nope. Ringer was on.
Why hadn’t Chloe called? It wasn’t like her sister, either one of them, not to call her when the weather was bad and let her know they were okay. It wasn’t so much that she required them to check in with her. They were grown women. Grown women with important jobs and lives of their own.
So, why was she so worried?
Because for nearly twenty years she’d talked to both Chloe and Dylan daily. At first it had been in the day-to-day existence in the home they shared. Stories of things that happened at school, things they were learning, people they met. The loves of their lives—interests, hobbies, books, clothes, friends, boys. The funny things they saw or read. The sad ones, too. After they graduated and went off to college, they’d still talked on the phone or saw each other almost daily. As much as she knew her sisters, they knew her, too. Whenever something bad happened in the world or the weather got bad, they’d check in, just so she wouldn’t worry.
“Staring at it isn’t going to make it ring,” Gage said from his desk.
She looked over to see him starting his work day studying reports Jason left for him. His routine. First thing when he got to the office he checked to see if anyone was in the jail cells, then he went over the nightshift report to see if anything required his immediate attention.
“I don’t see a point in trying Chloe’s number again,” she said. “It was still going to voicemail when I tried it back at the house.”
“Call Dylan,” he suggested.
Bobby heaved a sigh and glanced at the clock. Seven-o-five. “I hate to call her so early on her day off. She said she was heading home from the hospital last night and straight to bed after pulling an extra twenty-four hours on call because of the blizzard. Poor thing needs her rest.”
Gage turned his head and nailed her with those evergreen eyes, one brow arched. “And you need to not be worrying. Talking to Dylan will at least reassure you one of your chicks is okay.”
“You’re right,” she said with a shake of her head at his sudden smile. He so liked being told he was right. Arrogant much? And yet, it was one of the things she loved about the big lug.
As she picked up the phone, it rang. She looked at the caller ID picture. “Morning, Dylan,” she said, casting a see-I-was-right-too look at him. “You’re up early on your day off. Don’t tell me they called you in for another shift already?”
“No. I’m off for two days. I called about something else.”
The hesitation in her youngest sister’s voice, hit Bobby right in the center of her chest. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her gaze locking with Gage’s suddenly serious one.
“Is Gage there with you?”
Ok. Now she was really worried.
“Yes, he’s here.” She pushed a button. “You’re on speaker phone. What’s wrong? Is it Chloe?”
“She’s safe and hasn’t been able to call because her phone is…out of commission.”
Bobby tilted her head a little in confussion. “What do you mean it’s out of commission? And how did you talk to her then?”
There was another pause on Dylan’s end. “She used Wes’s phone. He disabled hers.”
“Wes? As in our Wes Strong?”
Gage came around to lean on the edge of her desk, a scowl forming on his face. “That sonofabitch has been down there in Cincinnati with Chloe since the blizzard hit and never bothered to call us? And why the hell did he disable her phone?”
“Uhm, they’re not here in Cinci,” Dylan said, and Bobby could almost see the funny scrunched up face she’d always made when she wasn’t quite telling her the truth.
“Dylan Renee Thomas, exactly where is your sister and our deputy?” Bobby asked in her mom voice—the one that said you’re seconds away from real trouble so you’d better start talking.
“They’re at Wes’s cabin up there in Westen. But they’re safe.”
Gage’s hand slapped down on the desk. “Gonna kill him.”
Bobby shot him an exasperated look. Something else was bothering her. “Dylan, why do you keep saying they’re safe?”
“Last night after I got off duty, I went over to Chloe’s place to check on her. I knew you were worried, and by that time, I was, too. Her condo was trashed. Someone had spray painted ugly things on her walls. Things were broken. Stuff strewn all over the place. Her clothes, her…things.”
“Oh, my God!” Bobby said, pulling her hand up to her face.
“You went there alone?” Gage asked, his arm coming around Bobby.
“No. Bulldog was with me.”
Bobby drew her brows down in confusion or maybe it was the shock. “You took a bulldog with you? Where did you get a bulldog?”
“Wes sent me, ma’am,” a deep voice said from the other side of the phone. “Steven Janowski. Special services and surgical tech. Chief, er…Wes, was afraid that whoever was stalking Chloe might come after Dylan, so I’m her bodyguard for now.”
“Whoa,” Gage said, running his hand over his face. “Someone is stalking my sister-in-law?”
“Yes, sir,” Janowski said. “I imagine that’s why the Chief took the battery out of her phone and computer. Didn’t want someone finding her through the GPS.”
“She tried to keep it from us,” Dylan said.
“But she confided in Wes?” Bobby asked, suddenly irritated.
“Apparently, Wes figured out when we were up there for the wedding, but something must’ve happened to make him think he needed to take action to protect her two days ago,” Dylan said. “And judging by the state of Chloe’s condo last night, it’s a good thing he did.”
“So, his solution wasn’t to call the local authorities, but to abscond with your sister?” Gage practically growled out. He stalked over to his desk and grabbed his phone, already punching in the call to Wes.
“I believe he felt it was necessary to get her away from the stalker to somewhere safe and go off the grid, sir.”
“And he asked you to watch over Dylan?” Bobby asked, trying to make sense of all this information and tamp down the fear coursing through her. Someone wanted to hurt one of her sisters.
“Yes, ma’am.” The way—what had Dylan called him?—Bulldog kept saying yes, sir and yes, ma’am, he had to be former military. Probably with Wes. Damn, she wished she knew more about her fellow deputy’s past.
The bell over the office door opened. Bobby and Gage swung their attentions that way to see Earl slip inside. He raised a hand in greeting as he meticulously wiped his feet on the mat.
Gage waved him in as he dialed the phone. Bobby went back to her conversation, knowing Earl would wait until he had their attention to talk.
“Exactly how long have you been bodyguarding my sister, Mr. Bulldog?” she asked.
“It’s just Bulldog. He’s been working with me at the hospital two weeks, Bobby,” Dylan said irritation in her voice. “I just called you because I told Chloe I was going to first thing this morning. Bulldog and I were up until two last night with the cops. I need to get some more sleep. Just wanted you not to worry. Please promise me you won’t worry. If anything happened to you or the baby because I told you this—”
The catch in her sister the surgeon’s voice wrapped around Bobby’s heart. Bright, beautiful and tenderhearted, that was Dylan.
“I’m tougher than you think, little sister.” Bobby patted her tummy. Everything felt just fine, well, except for the worry and anger for Chloe coursing through her. No need to tell Dylan that, though. “The baby and I are just fine. You get some sleep. Since you have your own bodyguard I won’t worry about you today.”
“Love you, sis,” Dylan said.
“Love you, too, sweetie…and Bulldog?”
“Yes, ma’am?” he answered, and Bobby swore she heard a smile over the phone.
“Anything happens to her, I’m holding you responsible.”
“I understand.”
“Good. Get some rest, you two,” she said, finally ending the call.
“Wes, this is Gage. You still want a job here, you call me back ASAP,” her husband growled into the phone, then dropped it onto his desk. He glared at it, then focused his attention on her. “What the hell was he thinking, keeping this from us?”
As much as she wanted to give into her anger, too, she knew Wes had good intentions. “Think about it, sweetheart. Chloe didn’t tell us probably because of the wedding. Wes figured it out since he was the one spending so much time with her those few days. Then the wedding happened. You and I left for our honeymoon. Then something happened and rather than worry us with the news the moment we got back in town, Wes decided to see what he could do. Then the blizzard hit.”
Gage leaned back in his chair. “You’re telling me you’re not pissed about this?”
“I didn’t say that. I understand the timeline of events have kept Wes from telling us what was going on. I’m angry, too, just not at Wes.”
“You’re mad at your sister.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course I am. This whole thing didn’t just pop up. Certainly not this week, and not three weeks ago before the wedding. I’ve talked with her almost daily her whole life. This, this stalker has been in her life a lot longer than a few weeks. This is just like Chloe.”
“Uhm, Sheriff?” Earl said, standing between their desks.
“Just a minute, Earl,” Gage shifting sideways in his chair. “What do you mean it’s just like Chloe? Does she often have stalkers?”
Bobby pressed her lips together, shooting him a don’t-be-ridiculous look. “Of course not. No, she simply has always been so blasted independent. Used to drive me crazy when she was a teenager.”
“So, your sister should be held accountable for not letting anyone know some crazy person is stalking her, but Wes, a supposed trained law enforcement agent, isn’t?”
“Mrs. Deputy?” Earl interrupted their discussion again.
“We’ll be right with you, Earl.” Bobby smiled at the man and his sweet new title for her, but she wasn’t done making her point to her spouse. “What I’m saying is, it isn’t out of character for Chloe to try to hide something from me if she thought it would worry me. Whereas, whatever happened this week to put my sister further in harm’s way, Wes—trained law enforcement agent,” she threw his words back at him, “recognized the need to remove my sister to a place of safety.”
“Without informing you, her sister or me, his boss about the situation or their whereabouts?” Gage asked with one brow arched.
God, he was going to love what she was about to say.
“You do have a point. He should’ve let us know.”
He nodded in that I’m-always-right way of his.
“However, in his defense, we can both agree things have been a little wild the past forty-eight hours, right?”
Slowly he pushed himself out of the chair, strolled all loose hipped her direction and lowered his mouth to hers. “Yes, we can,” he said, when he leaned back to stare into her eyes.
A throat cleared near the door.
Earl. They swung their gazes his direction.
“What can we do for you today, Earl?” Gage asked, sitting one hip on the corner of Bobby’s desk and motioning the older man closer.
“I’ve got a question.”
“Go for it,” Gage said.
“It’s not still deer hunting season, is it?”
Something in the way he stated the sentence rather than asked it, struck Bobby funny. Gage, too, since he drew his brows down in question with a quick puzzled glance her way.
“No, it isn’t, Earl. Why?”
“Saw somethin’ a little odd this morning, then.”
They waited for him to continue. Finally, Bobby asked. “What did you see, Earl?”
“Well, you know that new waitress over at the Peaches ’N Cream? The tall, lanky red-headed one?”
“Hannah?” Bobby asked.
“Yep, that’s the one. She was out before dawn. Carrying a rifle bag with her.”
“A rifle bag? Like a hunting rifle bag? You’re sure?” Gage asked.
Earl scratched his whisker-covered chin. “Could be a huntin’ rifle. Cept I saw her a couple times practicin’ shootin’ out in the woods last fall. Didn’t look like a regular rifle. More like a sniper rifle.”
A sudden wariness crept over Bobby. Gage must have the same feeling because his whole body seemed to tighten up where he sat.
“How do you know it was a sniper rifle, Earl?” he asked.
“Seen them before. Back in the war. Had a good friend who was the unit’s sniper.” He paused, but looked like he had more to say.
“What else?” Gage finally prompted.
“Well, she was dressed all in white. Like those soldiers in World War II up in Norway were. Saw that on a documentary with Pete one night over at the café,” Earl said, explaining how he knew about the camouflage.
“Any idea where she might be headed with all that?” Gage asked, sounding way calmer than Bobby felt.
Earl shrugged. “Suppose the same place I saw her practicing last fall.”
This was worse than pulling the truth out of an errant schoolkid.
“And where would that be, Earl?” Bobby tried to sound patient, but feared she already knew the answer.
“Out by Deputy Strong’s place.”