Steele, p.2
Steele, page 2
“I can do that.” She hesitated, then said, “Thank you, Officer Delany. I appreciate your kindness.”
“You may as well call me Steele,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As he stepped outside the interview room, he found Joe Kingsley and Brock Greer standing there.
“You sure she’s not hiding anything?” Joe asked.
He could tell Brock had given Joe an earful. “Anything is possible, but I find it difficult to believe she’d hold back from us knowing her baby is at risk. She doesn’t have any love for her ex-husband either.”
Joe nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I heard enough to agree with you. Brock, as you know, still has his doubts. Pull together those mug shots and see if she can identify anyone.”
“Sure thing.” He knew Brock had trust issues from recent events in his personal life, so Steele let it go. For his part, he couldn’t help but feel bad about her situation. Maybe because he was still grieving the loss of his girlfriend, Monique.
He found Raelyn putting the mug shots together for him on the computer. It was easier and faster than using paper or lineups.
“I heard the perps got away,” she said without looking at him. “I have Gabe Melrose, our tech guy, searching street camera footage for the vehicle.”
“Thanks.” He appreciated Rae’s chipping in to help. Despite being a talented cop, she was always willing to offer her assistance in any way.
Jina, on the other hand, balked at doing what she called scut work. Unless, of course, Joe or Rhy personally assigned tasks to her. He didn’t mind working with the handful of female cops on their team, but Jina had a chip on her shoulder the size of Everest.
He grabbed the closest laptop and booted it up. Within five minutes, Rae had sent him the six-packs she’d put together. He brought each of the three groupings up on the screen, then minimized two of them.
Carrying the laptop to the interview room, he placed it in front of Harper. She looked surprised, then leaned forward with interest to study the first group of six men.
She took her time, studying each face for a long moment before moving on. But at the end, she sat back. “I’m sorry. None of these guys looks familiar.”
“That’s okay, let’s try the next one.” He hadn’t expected her to identify Tommy Grotto; the guy was a chameleon, blending into his surroundings. He brought up the next group of six faces.
“That’s Ellis Starkey.” She pointed at the face in the middle of the bottom row. “I didn’t realize he’d been arrested.”
“He hasn’t; we just happened to get a good picture of him.” He minimized that screen and brought up the last six pictures.
She studied them, then shook her head again. “Nope. Never saw any of these guys before.”
He shouldn’t be surprised that she hadn’t been able to identify Waylon Brooks. He glanced up at the one-way glass and gave a small shrug.
Disappointed that they hadn’t learned much from this interview, he closed the laptop. “Okay, thanks for your help.”
“Does this mean I can go back to work?” She looked surprised and a bit apprehensive.
He hesitated. Joe hadn’t mentioned getting approval for a safe house for her. “Yes. I’ll drive you back to the law office. However, you really shouldn’t go anywhere alone.” Team members would continue keeping an eye on her, but that wasn’t foolproof. If they’d been a few yards farther back, they may not have been able to rescue her in time.
“Okay.” She stood and reached for her coat. He found himself holding it for her so she could slip her arms into the sleeves. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat, reminding himself that she was a victim of a crime, not a potential date. And pregnant to boot. He wasn’t interested in going down the relationship path again. He gave himself a mental shake as he opened the door for her, glad to see both Joe and Brock weren’t still hanging around.
“This way.” He still had the keys to the squad, so he didn’t bother to find Brock. It didn’t sit well with him to drop Harper off at the law offices, but he escorted her outside anyway.
She didn’t say anything until he pulled up to the skyscraper housing the prestigious law offices of Gibson and Roberts. Ironically, their specialty was criminal defense. They made their money defending people like her ex-husband. “Off—er—Steele, will I be safe going home tonight?”
“Do you have friends or family you can stay with?”
“Not really. My parents passed away last year.” She grimaced and reached for her door handle. “Never mind. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Hold on.” He slipped out from behind the wheel, raking his gaze over the area as he went around the back to her side. He opened her door for her. “I’ll walk you inside.”
As she emerged from the squad, the sound of gunfire reverberated around them.
“Get in! Keep your head down!” He shoved her back down inside the squad and used his radio to call for backup. When another bullet shattered the windshield, he hunkered down behind the vehicle, trying to pinpoint the location of the shooter.
The answer to her question was a big fat no. Harper Crane was far from safe. And he still wasn’t sure why she’d been targeted.
Chapter Two
What was going on? Harper huddled down in the front seat of the squad, trying to make herself as small as possible. Why were men who’d worked for her ex-husband trying to kidnap her?
To kill her?
Her belly made it impossible for her to get her head down very far, barely hidden behind the dashboard, and she silently prayed for God to protect her.
Please, Lord Jesus, please? Keep us safe in Your care!
The prayer didn’t calm her nerves as the wail of sirens split the air. Her body trembled from fear or the cold. Why was this happening?
“Harper? Are you okay?”
Steele’s voice pierced her thoughts. Cautiously, she lifted her head just enough to see him standing near her passenger-side window.
She belatedly realized the windshield had been struck by the gunfire, the glass shattering inward. Nothing hurt, but she ran her hands up and down her arms anyway to be sure. Thankfully, she didn’t find any blood.
“I—don’t know.” Fear had gripped her brain, making it difficult to think clearly.
“Come on, we’re getting you out of here.”
She didn’t move. “Where?”
“Your vehicle. Come with me, hurry.” Steele gripped her arm and tugged her from the squad, leaving her little choice in the matter. He surprised her by clamping his arm around her shoulders and half covering her body with his.
The parking lot was five blocks away, but somehow, the distance didn’t seem as long as it had earlier today.
Was that really only ninety minutes ago?
Her stupid shoes slipped on the icy ground, but Steele was holding her so tightly against him that she didn’t fall. His arm was like a vice around her, giving her the sense that he’d pick her up and carry her if she couldn’t keep up.
“Keys?” His voice was a low rumble near her ear.
“Uh, in my purse.” How she’d managed to hang on to her purse through all of this was a mystery. She managed to get the bag up so she could grab the key fob. She didn’t have a fancy car, just a plain, ordinary blue Chevy sedan.
He took the fob and quickly unlocked the car. Then he helped her slide into the passenger seat. She didn’t protest, even though it was her car. Her fingers were still trembling so much she doubted she’d be able to drive.
Steele pulled out of the parking lot, heading in the opposite direction of the law offices. Glancing at her, he reached over to crank the heat on high.
As if that would help her to stop shaking.
“Wh-where are we g-going?”
“Far from here” was his grim response. He glanced at her briefly before turning his attention to the road. “That was too close.”
You think? She bit back the snarky comment because it wasn’t fair to take her anger out on him. Not when he’d done everything possible to protect her and her baby.
She pressed her hands to her abdomen, willing herself to stop trembling. She wasn’t hurt. Her baby was fine.
That was more than enough for now.
Steele’s radio crackled. “Steele? Where are you?” She thought she recognized Officer Greer’s voice.
“I’m taking Har—er—Ms. Crane someplace safe.”
“Where?” Greer demanded.
“I don’t know yet. See if Joe or Rhy will get us a safe house.”
“Fine, but stay in touch, we’re spreading out to search the area for the shooter.” The radio fell silent.
The idea of a safe house was both reassuring and horrifying. It was nice that Steele cared enough to keep her safe, but how long would she have to stay there? She forced herself to think logically. “You believe someone wants me dead because I know something about Jake’s illegal arms dealing.” She made it a statement, not a question.
“Yes.” He shot her a quick glance. “Unless you have another reason for bad guys to come after you?”
“No.” She thought briefly about some of the criminals her boss represented. Men and women who had been accused of terrible crimes. There was one guy recently who made her skin crawl, but there would be no reason for Neil Otterson to come after her. Not when her boss was doing his best to keep him out of prison.
She didn’t like the exposure to criminals. Trent always reminded her that every citizen deserved a fair trial, and that could only happen if there were good lawyers like him to help make sure the cops and DAs got it right.
Trent Gibson liked to compare himself to the fictional character of Mickey Haller from Michael Connelly’s books, although his record for getting his clients off wasn’t nearly as impressive. Real life wasn’t the same as fiction.
“What about one of your boss’s clients?” Steele’s question seemed to pick up on her thoughts. “If this isn’t about Jake, is there a reason one of Gibson’s clients would come after you?”
“He is defending several clients, one big one in particular, but I’m not a lawyer, so it doesn’t make sense for him to come after me.” She drew in a deep, calming breath. “Trent is married and has two kids. If any of his clients were upset with him, they would target his family. Not a lowly office assistant.”
He nodded thoughtfully as he navigated the streets of Milwaukee. He’d taken so many twists and turns she soon had no idea where they were. Some area of the city she didn’t normally enter, based on the boarded-up and run-down homes lining the streets.
It didn’t take long, though, for them to enter a nicer neighborhood. She realized they must have been heading east, as they’d arrived at White Gull Bay, a nicer suburb not far from Lake Michigan. When Steele pulled up to a dark-gray ranch home, she frowned. “Who lives here?”
“Me.” He parked in the driveway, then pushed out of the car. “Wait for a moment.”
She did as he suggested, the recent shooting still fresh in her mind. If Steele hadn’t reacted so quickly, the outcome could have been bad.
Very bad.
Swallowing hard, she unbuckled her seat belt as he opened the door for her. She noticed Steele scanned the area as he ushered her to the front door. A moment later, they were inside.
The warm interior was nice, decorated for comfort rather than looks. There was a plush sofa in an L shape and several watercolor prints on the walls. Her knees felt weak, so she made her way to the sofa and sat down. “How long have you lived here?”
“Four years.” He shrugged out of his MPD jacket and crossed over to join her. “Are you warm enough?”
At some point during the drive, she’d stopped trembling. “Yes.” She unzipped her coat as the warmth soaked into her skin. “How long are we going to be here?”
He eyed her curiously. “As long as it takes.”
She blinked in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“We’re staying here until the upper brass finds a safe house for you.” He didn’t sit but rose and paced the area. “That shooter was waiting for us, as if knowing I’d drop you off at the law office sooner or later.”
His words drew her up short. “You mean, he was watching and waiting the same way you and Officer Greer watched and followed me.”
“Yeah. I guess you could say that.” He scowled. “There must be something you know, Harper. Some reason your ex-husband’s cohorts in crime have come after you.”
“I don’t know anything!” She didn’t hide her sharp tone. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“We’re missing something,” he muttered to himself.
“Look, even if Jake had told me something about his business dealings, what’s the point of coming after me now? He’s dead; he can’t testify.”
Steele stopped and stared at her for a long moment. Then he sighed and jammed his fingers through his dark hair. “Jake Feldman isn’t dead. He’s being held in a safe house out of town.”
“What?” She instinctively wrapped her arms around her belly as his confession sank deep. Her ex-husband was still alive.
And he’d done or said something that had placed her and her unborn child directly in the line of fire.
Harper looked shell-shocked by the news. He hid a wince, knowing Joe and Rhy wouldn’t be happy that he’d told Harper the truth about her ex-husband. Yet he couldn’t keep lying to her. Besides, the more she knew, the more she’d cooperate.
He hoped.
“Your ex has agreed to testify against Tommy Grotto,” he said. “After Jake was beaten up in jail, he decided it was in his best interest to give us what we needed to put Grotto away for the rest of his life.”
“In exchange for what?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Witness protection.” He crossed over to drop beside her. “I’m sorry, Harper. But it’s obvious Grotto or his allies know your ex-husband is still alive. And I think they’re trying to get to you to force Feldman’s hand.”
“Force his hand how?” She tucked a strand of her long blond hair behind her ear.
He had to admire her grit. Harper Crane hadn’t fallen apart as he’d feared. “If Grotto can get his hands on you, he can threaten to kill you if Feldman doesn’t back down.”
Before he’d even finished speaking, she was shaking her head. “No way. That’s ridiculous. Jake couldn’t care less about me. He’d never sacrifice himself to save me.”
Her blunt assessment startled him. “But you’re carrying his baby.”
“Yeah. The baby he hadn’t wanted.” She turned to look at him with a solemn expression. “Trust me on this. Jake wouldn’t care if I was killed. And the baby too. That’s not what’s going on here.”
Then what was? He wasn’t sure how to respond since that was the only theory that had made any sense.
His radio squawked. Rising to his feet, he moved away from Harper to respond. “Go ahead, Brock.”
“No sign of the shooter but we found a 9x19 mm Parabellum shell casing. Possibly from a SIG Sauer P226, just like those that we found in that warehouse in Ravenswood.”
The same type of handguns Jake Feldman had been dealing, although that ammo could be used in other weapons too. “What are the chances of picking up prints?”
“Not very likely,” Brock said. “The casing has been sent to the lab, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
He knew his teammate was right. The shooter had likely worn gloves, especially in the cold winter temps. “Anything else?”
“We’re pulling a mangled slug out of the squad now,” Brock said. “Not sure it will be much good. Boss wants to know where you are.”
“Safe.” He didn’t want to admit he’d brought Harper home. Brock, Joe, and Rhy would have a field day with that. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d lectured Joe on getting too emotionally involved with Elly, a woman he’d been protecting. He could easily imagine Joe turning his words back against him. “What’s the status on a safe house?”
“Joe and Rhy are looking into it.” Thankfully, Brock didn’t press for more information. “Let me know where I should meet you.”
“I will. Later.” He quickly ended the radio transmission. He’d bought them a little time, hopefully long enough for Joe and Rhy to come through with the safe house.
It bothered him to know an innocent pregnant woman was in danger. Monique had died in a car crash from a drunk driver heading the wrong way on the interstate. His girlfriend had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Was that what happened to Harper?
Maybe not since her ex-husband is a known criminal. And criminals didn’t care about the sanctity of life. He’d seen a lot of bad stuff working as part of the tactical team over the past three years and as a street cop for four years before that.
Sure, there were plenty of good people in the world. It just so happened that he was exposed to those who were the exact opposite.
Whatever. This was what he’d signed up for. After his older sister, Amelia, had been killed by her stalker ex-boyfriend, Steele had made it his mission to protect the innocent.
And you couldn’t get any more innocent than Harper Crane and her baby.
Maybe keeping them safe would help him heal some of his grief over losing Monique and Amelia. Two women he hadn’t been able to protect.
Shaking off those troubled thoughts, he turned to face Harper. “Would you like coffee? Or breakfast?”
“I don’t suppose you have herbal tea?”
He hated crushing her hopeful expression. “No, sorry.” He didn’t know a single person who drank herbal tea, then belatedly realized she was avoiding caffeine because of her pregnancy. “I have decaf, though.”
She nodded. “Okay, that works. Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.” He gratefully ducked into the kitchen. He needed to get these overprotective instincts under control. Yes, she was pregnant and therefore more vulnerable than other witnesses. But he couldn’t afford to be distracted by her condition.
