Chapter Seven
Malin laughed at Tag’s wide-eyed expression. “Come on, don’t look so shocked. If I’d known self defense, couldn’t I have avoided what happened at the bank?”
He stopped and grabbed both her arms. His thick eyebrows crashed downward. “Don’t think like that. You should never oppose anyone holding a gun, especially not when the weapon is pointed at your head.”
Pinned by his dark-eyed gaze, she sobered, her stomach reeling like a pinwheel. “But you were ready to go against them.”
“I’m trained, you’re not.”
Crossing her arms, she frowned, hoping hers looked as determined as his did. “Exactly my point.”
Huffing out a breath, Tag looked off into the distance.
She wondered if he knew he rubbed his hands from her shoulder to her elbows as he thought. Not that she was complaining, because his rough hands felt good anywhere on her body. The realization should have shocked her. A week ago, the thought would have prompted a panicked call to Suzanne. Instead, Malin allowed it to settle deep inside. I really care for this protective man. He was like no guy she’d ever dated. In almost no time at all, he’d become important in her life.
“Don’t the residents of Eagle Rock miss having a gym?” Tag slid his hand under hers where it clasped her left arm. “Let’s head back to your place. The hayloft is as good a spot as any to do some throws.” Then he turned and walked toward his truck, tugging her behind. As he moved, he scanned the parking lot and road.
“Throws?” Glad he’d agreed, she was unsure about the sound of what he planned. When he’d pulled the truck into traffic, she angled her body to face him. “Shouldn’t I start with smaller moves like wrist bending or foot stomping?”
“Who’s the expert here?”
“You, but…”
At the next stop sign, he glanced sideways, eyebrow cocked.
She knew he didn’t mean that look to be sexy, but her pulse kicked up anyway. “All right, you’re the expert. Don’t you think we’re a bit unmatched weight-wise? You even pointed out how much bigger you are than me.”
“And you need self-defense moves because only a person who is your same size will be the attacker?”
“Well, no.” Why did he have to be so logical? She rested her elbow on the window frame and watched the familiar scenery pass. What she wished for was never to be attacked again…in her entire lifetime. But she also didn’t want to experience the helplessness of that day. As she rode, she tilted her head and felt the ends of her hair tickle her neck. This new style would take some getting used to.
Tag parked the truck near the barn, and they both hopped out. He met her at the front of the truck and reached for her hands. “Promise me that if at any time you get freaked, you’ll tell me to stop.”
Now, she was confused. “But I’m the one who asked you to teach me.”
“Right, but some of the moves are responses to attacks from behind. Can you handle that?”
From behind was her trigger. She bit her lower lip. “Since I know we’re practicing, I think I can.”
“Let’s do it.” He released her hands and waved her to go ahead.
Malin walked to the wooden two-by-fours nailed to the barn wall leading to the hayloft. She had almost reached the top when a hand wrapped around her ankle. She gasped and her stomach clenched in a knot. Then she looked over her shoulder and took a calming breath at the sight of a familiar face.
“Now, jerk your leg in any direction to break my hold. Go for it.”
The first two sideways attempts failed, but on the third, she bent her knee and yanked up her foot, breaking his grip.
“Good move.”
As she climbed to the loft, she figured he probably let her win that one. For the next twenty minutes, she listened to everything he said and learned about stances, weight distribution, and leverage. Mostly, she’d attempt to break a hold only to have Tag remain standing followed by him correcting her posture or the placement of her hands. Twice, she succeeded with a leg sweep so they both tumbled into the loose hay. Moves that earned her a wide grin and high-five from her handsome instructor. Her confidence grew. Plus, she had the added bonus of being held close.
An alarm sounded, and Tag reached for his back pocket.
Malin straightened and swiped a palm across her damp forehead, shoving damp tendrils to the side. “Problem?”
“No. A reminder about a meeting at Brotherhood Protectors.”
“You should go.” For the past several hours, they’d been together in an isolated bubble--with only one another for company. If she didn’t count Regina. Even then, Malin had been laser-focused on Tag’s gaze. But she couldn’t steal all his time.
“I want to find out if Hank’s heard from Rayburn.” Frowning, he glanced between her and the phone. “But what we’re doing here is important, too.”
She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. Bits of hay tickled at her neck and down her back. Now that she’d stopped moving, she realized how itchy her skin was. “So come back tomorrow.”
After pocketing his phone, he stepped close and cupped his hands at the nape of her neck. “That’s a given.” He leaned down and captured her mouth for a quick, but thorough, kiss.
Hot and powerful, the kiss sizzled, and she grabbed onto his ribs for balance. The tang of their sweat mingled with the fresh scent of straw, making a heady combination. Way too soon, Tag stepped back, releasing her.
“Gotta go.” He lifted a hand close to her forehead and flicked away a piece of straw.
“I know.” She mirrored his action and pinched a long blade that was caught in his thick hair.
“I like the new do.” A thumb caressed her lower lip before he turned and disappeared down the ladder. “Talk to you later.”
“Bye.” She stepped to the edge of the loft and watched him stride from the barn before she climbed the ladder with slow steps. As she moved, twinges erupted along her sides where she’d strained to lever him over her hip. Maybe what she needed was a real self-defense course taught in a gym with cushy mats. If she located one nearby, she’d insist her sisters attend, too.
On the walk to the main house, she untucked her blouse and pulled the tails away from her body, releasing some of the hay bits. No guests sat on the deck as she crossed, her boots clunking on the wooden planks. The reflection in the slider showed where straw dotted her much-shorter hair. How had Tag chosen the single one he removed? She shook her head then stopped. A shower would solve the problem.
Malin walked inside and nodded at the couple sitting in one of the couches. She headed for the kitchen, counting on running into Tilda. But the room stood empty. A glance at the clock confirmed this was meal prep time. Then she remembered today was Monday and Tilda’s quasi-day off. She still prepared meals, but guests on Mondays and Tuesday were served reheated leftovers from the weekend menu.
Malin walked to the main foyer and listened for sounds from anywhere in the house. Music floated down the stairs, and she followed the notes to the library/media room, pausng in the doorway. Bookcases lined one wall with two Queen Anne-style chairs facing the filled bookshelves. A Tiffanyesque stained glass pole lamp stood between. Overstuffed couches sat on three tiers and faced a huge television screen. Currently running was an action movie Malin had sat through several viewings with Tilda. An interruption shouldn’t cause an issue. She wondered what reaction she’d receive about her shorter hair. Taking a breath, she stepped into the room. “I’m back.”
“Uh, huh.” From her perch in the top row, Tilda didn’t take her gaze from the screen.
Malin walked across the room and plopped into the corner of the lowest couch. This car chase involving backwards driving was always exciting, and she settled in to watch. When it ended, the image stilled.
“You cut your hair!”
“Yep.” Smiling, Malin turned and giggled at Tilda’s look of total amazement. “I talked out my fear of how its length made me vulnerable.”
“So Suzanne suggested the change?”
“Nope, Tag did.”
“The guy from the robbery who I still haven’t met, but I heard rode Big Red today?”
Strange that so much had happened in the past couple of days that strengthened her relationship with Tag, but she hadn’t yet brought him into the main house. What was her reason for not introducing the three most important people in her life? Oh, Malin, quit analyzing every choice and decision. “I’ll check when we can do introductions. But do you like the new style?” She stood and turned her head to show off her profile from both angles.
“Very complimentary.”
“Think of how easy it will be to maintain.” She ran her splayed fingers through it and came away with several pieces of straw. “Yuck, I’ve got to shower.”
“Is that hay you’re dumping on the carpet?” Tilda leaned forward.
“Tag showed me some self-defense moves in the barn.” She wriggled her fingers in the air. “I’m off to shower. Call if you need help with getting dinner on the table.” As she headed toward her cabin, she wondered if she’d run into Jude first or if Tilda would share about her haircut. Amazing how one simple change lightened her step and lifted her spirits. She slid the key from her front pocket and opened the door.
An unknown scent slid past her then dissipated before she could identify it. Maybe she needed to check her mini-fridge for expired yogurt. After dropping the key in the ceramic bowl near the door, she headed toward the bedroom but slowed. The novel she’d started reading last night had been on her nightstand but now lay in the middle of her couch. She scanned the room and spotted several items in places where she knew she hadn’t left them. The hairs on her arms rose.
Even though they’d been apart less than an hour, she grabbed her phone and called Tag, hoping to hear him say she must be imagining it. Better, that he would be right over to assess the situation. That answer was the one she wanted to hear most of all.
Hand shaking, she leaned a shoulder against the wall, “Tag, I need you.”
****
Tag lounged at one end of a couch in the living room of Hank’s White Oak Ranch. Four other agents showed up for the meeting—Swede, Taz, Bear, and Mad Dog. He wondered at the number of years of skill and experience held by the assembled six men. All located in this out-of-the-way spot in rural Montana.
Hank started at four o’clock with the announcement of another new agent due within the month.
That produced nods and grunts of acceptance around the room.
Turning his gaze toward Tag, he extended a piece of paper. “I received that first thing this morning. You’re officially on the clock for guarding Malin Langstrom.”
Tag glanced at the photocopy of a five-thousand-dollar check from a bank in St. Paul, Minnesota. “Isn’t St. Paul where Rhys is living now?”
“True, but the payor isn’t the same as the one covering the work related to Caitlyn Auliffe.” He shrugged. “Could be the same benefactor, but all I know is the money’s in our account.”
With a nod, Tag set the paper on the nearest table. Disappointment ate at his gut. The check changed things—he had to figure out to what extent. Their relationship had been advancing in the right direction, but now he was officially on the job. As much as he hated the idea, he might have to pull back from his pursuit. “Hear anything from Rayburn?”
“Only that the BOLO is still in effect, but no responses.” Hank turned to Taz. “What’s your update?”
Tag doubted a successful result from a “be on the lookout” report on a truck with only a paint color as the distinguishing feature. The reports from the other agents floated around his awareness as he contemplated what could be his next steps to find the suspect’s truck. He needed a new strategy. A loud throat clearing disrupted his musings. “What?” He glanced around and discovered he was the focus of everyone’s attention.
“Anything else to report?”
“Not at this time.” He straightened. “I’ve got to figure out a new resource for locating that truck.”
Hank stood. “Meeting’s over. Appreciate you all showing up.”
The agents cleared the room in a flash. And Hank walked toward his office.
Tag grabbed the photocopy from the table and followed. “You need this for your files?”
Hank extended a hand to collect the paper. “You figured out an angle for sticking close to Malin? Is she still in denial about the presence of a possible threat?”
“Uh, about that.” Tag slumped into one of the visitor chairs.
Hank leaned a hand on the side of his desk. “The last thing I want is to get into your personal business, Tag. When you and Malin met in my office, did I sense something more than a friendship going on? Sadie tells me I’m oblivious sometimes, so correct me if I’m wrong.”
“Not exactly. But I’m not ready to label what’s going on. All I know is the lady is hot and funny but vulnerable as hell.” Listing her attributes produced the image of her relaxed, smiling fact to mind. A warm feeling settled in his chest. “Being honest, boss, we’ve shared a few kisses but nothing more.”
“Crap, I hate discussing this topic.” Hank rubbed the back of his neck then moved to sit in his chair.
A horrible thought blocked out everything else, and he sat forward, elbows on knees. “If the company has a stated hands-off policy, then…”
A snort sounded as Hank shook his head. He leaned back in the chair and clasped his hand behind his head. “Look at the Brotherhood Protectors track record. If I’d instituted a hands-off policy, it’s been overlooked by just about every agent, including myself. Distance, both physical and emotional, is hard to maintain when situations get intense. I’ve lived that experience. What I ask is gentlemanly consideration. Or the best that a Ranger can give.”
The older man’s wide grin added a teasing note to the jibe. Tag snapped a salute. “Rangers lead the way, sir.” While on active duty he’d seen rivalry when Special Forces from various branches served on the same assignment. But not since coming to Eagle Rock and sitting around the living room at the meetings. Agents represented a mix of decorated ex-military—Delta Force, Rangers, Seals, and a bounty hunter or two—but in their civilian roles, they pulled together as one.
“Wise ass.”
“Count on it.”
His phone vibrated, and he grabbed it. The caller ID named Malin. He’d have to snap a picture to add to her contact record. “Speaking of whom…” He lifted a finger to put a hold on his conversation with Hank. “Hey, Malin. I didn’t expect—” Hearing her whispered words “I need you” stiffened his posture. He narrowed his gaze on a knot in the wood flooring so he could listen to her trembling tone. “Where are you? What’s happened?”
Her response sounded rushed and stuttered at the same time. He lifted his head and met Hank’s gaze. “What I understand is you think your cabin’s been broken into? No, I’m sure you’re not imagining it.” Damn, why hadn’t he taken ten minutes and done a check of the property’s layout? Without the situational survey, he couldn’t visualize her cabin’s location in relation to the entrance or the main house. Driving to the barn guided him down a road away from the main property. “Go to the main house and don’t touch anything in your cabin. I’m on my way.” He punched off the call. “You heard what’s going on?”
“I’ll contact Joe Barron.” Hank rested a hand on the desk phone. “You’ll stay there until a deputy arrives?”
Tag gave a curt nod. Anxious to get to her, he jingled his keys in his hand. “I don’t think an excuse to stay close will be necessary.” He turned to leave, his thoughts already with what Malin was going through. She’d looked so happy when he’d left Dream Vistas.
“Couldn’t tell if you heard the details, but Swede set up motion-detector units on the property’s perimeter and connected the surveillance program. He gave the sisters instructions yesterday, so ask to see the footage.”
“Will do.”
“Because of the location, the settings are high so a deer or raccoon doesn’t set off the recording. You might have to adjust those.”
Tag waved a hand over his head on the way out. “If I get stuck, I’ll call Swede.” The next ten minutes elapsed in a flash of trailing clouds on dirt roads and passing slow-moving vehicles on the asphalt. He left the truck in the ranch’s circular drive and ran up to the porch.
A slender woman with light blonde hair opened the door and stood in the foot of open space. “Yes?” She looked him up and down. “You’re Malin’s Tag.”
“I am. Where is she?” Pulse beating double-time, he stretched to see past her spiky hair.
“Tag!” Malin stepped into the long hallway.
Relief shot through him at seeing her. He narrowed his gaze on the door guardian until she stepped back to let him pass. “Any other problems since we talked?’
She just shook her head.
As he moved toward her, he glanced around at the layout of the huge house and up the staircase. Too many damn access points. Great for entertaining…suck-city for protection. He dragged off his hat and tossed it on a nearby chair then enveloped Malin in his arms. A few seconds passed as he rested his chin on the top of her head and breathed in her familiar orangey scent. “You’ll be fine, babe. I’m here.”
“I’m glad.” She nestled closer.
From this position, he could gauge her state of mind. “Hanks says you have security footage. I need to see it.” He eased back but kept an arm around her shoulders.
The woman who answered the door stepped ahead. “Through here.”
Tag walked with Malin, supporting her more than following.
Two women stood at a kitchen island, facing the doorway.
For expediency sake, he took charge of the dialogue. “Tag Redmond, from Brotherhood Protectors. I’m assuming you two are Malin’s sisters. Show me the surveillance footage.”
Malin rounded the island and pointed toward the blondest woman. “My younger sister, Jude, and that’s Tilda.”
“Thank you for coming.” The older one spoke then pointed toward the built-in desk.
Nodding his acknowledgement to the introductions, he crossed the room and slipped into the chair. After checking the program’s name, he hit a few keys and watched the screen for a change in the gray-and-white images.
At sixteen thirteen, a human-sized blob moved from one side to the other at the bottom range of security camera number five. Then it disappeared. He fast-forwarded until the recording reached the current time, and the screen grayed again. To gather every shred of info, he re-ran the footage twice more. A brimmed hat obscured facial features. The person hadn’t lingered near any objects that would help to gauge his or her size. “Who knows the location of camera five? I want to see the spot.”
Silence.
He turned to where the women huddled together around the island. They looked at each other and shrugged.
“Swede did the set up.” Jude leaned toward the island and set her chin in her raised fist.
Malin approached. “He didn’t show us where he put the cameras. We figured the position would be obvious from what displayed.” She waved a hand toward the laptop. “But I see that assumption was wrong.”
A knock rapped on the front door.
Malin jumped.
“Relax, babe.” He stood. “Hank called the sheriff to investigate. That’s probably him.”
“He did what?” Tilda shot to her feet, wringing her hands. “Mr. Redmond, we have guests here who don’t need to be upset by a law enforcement presence.”
“Miss Langstrom.” Tag fought to remain civil. “Your sister has a stalker who means her harm. In my book, that threat trumps your guests’ peace of mind.” Before he dug himself any deeper with Malin’s sisters, he strode to the front door and stepped outside. “I’m Tag Redmond from Brotherhood Protectors. I believe my boss made the report.”
“Sheriff Joe Barron.” The big man returned the handshake. “You’re assigned to one of the Langstrom sisters?”
Having the sheriff familiar with the security company helped speed the process. He nodded. “Malin.”
“Where was the break-in?”
“At a studio cabin. I was just about to learn which one.”
The sheriff jerked his head toward the closed door. “May I go inside and speak with the ladies?”
Tag cleared his throat. “The oldest sister is concerned about upsetting the guests. How circumspect can the situation be handled?” There, he’d done what he could to appease Tilda.
“If a guest gets curious, I can inquire about an available weekend for a family reunion.”
“Great.”
“Not my first rodeo, Redmond.” Barron stepped forward and entered the house.
The sarcasm stung his ears. All right, so maybe he was being a bit zealous because of the target’s identity. How could he get Malin to agree to come to his house? For her own safety, she needed to be away from this location. At least until surveillance was beefed up. He let the sheriff handle gaining entry to the correct studio while he signaled Malin to a corner of the kitchen. “How are you doing?”
“I’m rattled.” She bit her lip. “Someone was in my house and touched my things.” She shuddered.
“I need to check the cabin. Will you stay here, or do you want to go along?”
She placed a hand on his chest. “I want to stick with you.”
Minutes later, after Deputy Meadows shot photos of the entire place, Tag stood in the doorway to the bathroom, out of the way.
Malin walked through her living space, which measured fifteen by twenty. She pointed out items that were in the wrong places.
Meadows slid each item into a plastic evidence bag and made notes on the label.
The studio was well-built and efficient. Open living space included a galley kitchen, round dining table with four chairs, couch, an armchair, and three-shelf bookcase. Stairs along one wall led up to a sleeping loft. Thankfully, the longer she worked the process with the crime scene specialist, the calmer she appeared.
His phone chimed and he glanced down at the screen displaying an out-of-state phone number. Finger poised over the off button, he looked again and recognized a San Antonio area code. Stepping inside the bathroom, he toed the door mostly closed. “Tag Redmond.”
“Is this MWD handler Redmond?”
Tag leaned a hip against the sink. The voice was vaguely familiar but he had too much going on to place it exactly. “Former. Medically discharged six months ago.”
“Tag, this is Master Sergeant Hernandez at Lackland AFB.”
The site of the training school for dog handlers from all military divisions. “I remember being in your class. What can I do for you, Master Sergeant?”
“We just processed an injured dog here I think you know. Dex sustained a broken leg on his last assignment.”
“Dex?” His favorite. His gut clamped tight. “How’s he doing?”
“Not great. The break is close to the hip, and the recovery will be long. His file is stamped medically unfit.”
Tag winced. Not a good prognosis. Here was a wrong he knew he could make right.
“I’m contacting previous handlers to see if adoption is a possibility or desirable.”
“Hell yes, I’ll adopt.” Tag’s injury was what broke up the team, and the feeling he’d deserted Dex had bothered him since his military separation. “Is he fit to fly?”
“Not advised. You know how commercial lines treat big dogs. The largest crate will be hard for Dex to move in because of the length of his cast. Plus the weather issue. You’ve lived in south Texas. Temps are already in the eighties here.”
“Crap.” Tag ran a hand though his hair. “I’m in Montana.” He thought back to the trip he’d made to the ranch from Lackland after he finished training. “The drive is at least thirty-six hours one way, and that estimate includes only four or five hours of sleep.”
“Can you get someone to share the drive? Sorry, Redmond, but I need a confirmed arrival date and time, or I contact the next name on the list. You rated the first call because you and Dex served as a team the longest.”
Details raced through his mind. He couldn’t drive and tend Dex if he needed attention. Could Tag get the new kennel assistant to move into the house for several days? Yanking open the door, he drilled Malin with a stare.
At that sudden movement, she looked up, eyes widening. “What?”
“No worries, Master Sergeant. Give me forty-eight hours to pick him up. Don’t let anyone else take him.” Tag ended the call. “Pack a bag. We’re taking a road trip.”
Malin walked close, her gaze searching his. “What are you talking about?”
“Would you rather stay in Eagle Rock and possibly come face to face with your stalker or be safely away from here for a few days?” What he didn’t say was she’d be stuck inside his truck for the majority of that time. Explanations came later, probably accompanied by apologies.
The adoption was something he had to follow through on. He would not fail Dex a second time.