Her duty bound defender, p.2
Her Duty Bound Defender, page 2
Bennett double-checked the magazine in his gun. Arresting Naomi as the Rocky Mountain Killer and her accomplices would propel his career to new levels. Not that he’d minded his past service with the Denver Police Department Narcotics Unit, but his position with the MCK9 task force was a step up. After his ex-fiancée’s betrayal, Bennett was ready for more than chasing down local drug dealers like Roderick Jones. The criminal he’d started his narcotics career pursuing. Jones had eluded police at every turn. Now Bennett wanted more.
Contentious voices rose, growing louder.
Bennett scurried for the cover of a massive lilac bush and ducked down. Two large men, one wielding a gun and both wearing ski masks over their faces, walked behind Naomi.
Why would her accomplices hide their identities?
Something wasn’t right.
Bennett dropped low, remaining out of sight.
“Don’t move!” one of the guys shouted at her. “Turn around.”
Naomi slowly faced the men, giving Bennett a perfect visual of the fear etched in her expression.
“Stop playing games!” the gun-wielding man hollered. “Where is it?”
“I... I don’t know what you mean,” she stammered, her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She kept her arms low, covering her pregnant belly.
By the sounds of it, her accomplices’ arrival was unfriendly. She’d apparently made enemies in her revenge pursuit. No honor among criminals and all that. A twinge of conscience interfered with Bennett’s judgmental thoughts. Still, he couldn’t help but pity her unborn baby.
The two hoodlums threatening Naomi might buy her innocent act, but Bennett’s skepticism argued otherwise. What was the it they wanted? Money? Drugs? Guns? He needed more information. Balance and timing were imperative. Closing in too soon risked stifling the creeps from unknowingly handing him the evidence to arrest the trio. Not moving fast enough could cost Naomi her life. Bennett refused to allow that to happen.
The other man stalked closer to Naomi, cracking his knuckles in an intimidation stance.
She backed up, cowering. She must be unarmed, or she’d surely brandish her weapon.
Bennett ground his teeth. Indignation at the ignorant brute’s tactics overrode his curiosity at the situation. He would not tolerate watching two idiots hurt a woman.
Even if she was a killer.
But from his position, he wouldn’t be able to get a clean shot without endangering Naomi.
“You’re going to give it to us one way or the other,” the gun-wielding man said.
“Please, you have me confused with someone else,” Naomi pleaded.
“Where. Is. It?” he insisted in staccato grunts.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Naomi cried.
Bennett trained his sights on the gun-wielding man while maintaining visual on the other. They stood too far apart for him to take them both out in a single shot. He had to make it count.
The other shifted as though uncomfortable with the action. “Maybe she doesn’t know.”
That surprised Bennett. Hmm. Unless he was trying to gain Naomi’s trust. The tactic wasn’t unheard of. Bad cop, good cop, or in this case, bad criminal, worse criminal.
“I promise I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
The man lifted his weapon.
Naomi shrieked and squatted.
Bennett moved forward.
Several consecutive blasts echoed across the open land as the man shot out the tour van’s back window and rear tires. A flock of birds nesting in the tree above Bennett burst into flight, startling him.
“No!” Naomi screamed, ducking her head. “I’m nine months pregnant. If I knew, I’d give you whatever you want. Don’t hurt me. For my baby’s sake.”
Her sincere concern for her unborn baby triggered Bennett’s instincts. She truly either didn’t know what the man wanted or couldn’t tell him.
The situation had gotten out of control too fast. “Police!” Bennett bolted from the tree line. “Put down your weapon!”
The men spun in a synchronized effort, facing Bennett, and the first fired at him.
Bennett dodged to the right, avoiding the hit, which spewed bark near his head. He rolled behind a large bramble and returned fire. The shooter’s accomplice bellowed, indicating Bennett’s bullet found its mark, though he couldn’t be certain in the dark. The two ducked into the shadows between the barn and stable, disappearing from sight.
Bennett’s gaze bounced between the fleeing men and Naomi—who was still his chief priority as the murder mastermind. She got to her feet and hurried off in the opposite direction.
Catching her and getting her to safety overrode the need to chase down her accomplices. The sound of an engine roared from behind Bennett as the men sped from the property.
“Stop!” Bennett sprinted after Naomi. “Police!”
TWO
Naomi glanced over her shoulder. The stranger with a gun was getting closer. He claimed to be the police, but she couldn’t believe anything after what had just happened.
She tried to increase her pace, but her body refused to cooperate.
He would catch her.
No. No. Her feet were heavy, sluggish, as though she moved through quicksand. She pushed through the trees, branches slapping at her face. Searching for a place to hide, she stepped over a log and her ankle twisted on the uneven ground, causing Naomi to stumble.
Like a bird taking flight, her widespread arms grasped for something to stop her fall and she landed hard against a prickly tree trunk. Her cheek scraped the rough bark, and she pushed back, attempting to right herself. Her breaths came out in short pants, and she visually sought her pursuer.
Where had he gone?
A glimmer ahead caught her attention, and she bolted forward. Drawing nearer, she spotted a Silverado, and she prayed the keys were inside.
Naomi hurried as fast as her feet and current state allowed. She reached the driver’s side door and turned to see the man appear from the foliage.
“Stop! Police!”
Naomi slowed to catch her breath, though her mind screamed to keep moving. Regardless, her body was done. Unable to take another step, she leaned against the vehicle.
“Naomi! Don’t move!” The man was at her side within seconds. “Why did you run?”
Her eyes roved from his hand to his face. “Because. You. Have a gun,” she panted, then blinked. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m a cop,” he said, still holding the pistol. He didn’t elaborate on his comment, as though his title explained everything. “Don’t move.”
“Couldn’t...if I...wanted,” she replied.
He lowered the weapon but didn’t put it away. With his other hand, he reached into his shirt neckline and withdrew a chain holding a leather pouch with a shiny badge. “Aside from being on the task force, I’m with the Denver Police Department. Detective Bennett Ford.” He stepped back, and a sharp bark from inside the pickup startled Naomi. “Are you okay?”
She turned, coming face-to-face with the narrow snout and wide eyes of a small dog peering out from the driver’s side window.
“That’s Spike, my K-9,” the detective explained. She looked up at a tall man with short blond hair. His brown eyes were unreadable.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Just a little shook up.”
“Understandably so. Who were those men?”
“I have no idea.” She shrugged. “Are they gone?”
He seemed to study her. “Yes, but who knows for how long. Before I put you into my truck, I need to make sure Spike and I aren’t in any danger of you riding with us. Are you armed?”
“Of course not.” She tugged the edges of her pale blue cardigan around her belly.
“I have to pat you down—for your safety and mine.”
“What?” She narrowed her eyes, then gestured wide with her arms. “Is that really necessary?” As though she could hide anything under her long tunic, sweater, and leggings.
“Yes, ma’am, it’s protocol.”
“Fine,” she exhaled.
“You’re not carrying any bazookas or flame throwers, are you?”
Despite the seriousness, a grin tugged at Naomi’s lips at the silly question. “No, sir, just a baby boy. But he’s also unarmed.”
“Good. Please lift your hands above your head.”
“I understand.” Naomi complied, assuming the position she’d seen on TV. For a moment, she contemplated if that was a mistake. Would he assume she was familiar with the arrest process?
He respectfully patted her down and seemed satisfied she was unarmed. “Okay, let me help you up into the truck, and we’ll drive over to check on your van.”
Relieved he’d not associated her as one of the criminals, she said, “Thank you for saving my life, by the way.”
“Glad I could help.” He nodded curtly while offering a tight grin. “If those men return, we’re exposed out here in the open.”
Naomi hesitated, then inhaled deeply, finally catching her breath. “This doesn’t look like a cop vehicle.”
The pathetic argument provided her the opportunity to stall. What if he wasn’t who he claimed to be? In a side glance, she spotted the badge still hanging around his neck.
“It’s my personal truck. Hard to do surveillance in a patrol vehicle.” He held out a key fob and pressed a button. Headlights beamed through the brush.
In the light, Naomi studied him. Tall, handsome, dressed in jeans, running shoes, and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Yet suspicion hovered in her mind. Except for the badge and gun, not much about Detective Ford appeared cop-like. She hesitated, determined to gather more information. “Wait, you said Denver PD? Why are you here?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to talk to you about.” He spoke calmly in a matter-of-fact manner.
“You’re a little out of your jurisdiction,” Naomi countered.
“Actually, I’m not.” He stood, arms crossed, and she didn’t miss the way his pose accentuated his biceps. “I’m a member of the Mountain Country K-9 Task Force.”
Naomi tilted her head. “And what’s that?”
“MCK9 is a special task force with a mission to take down the Rocky Mountain Killer, who has claimed the lives of innocent men from Elk Valley.” He spoke the words as though throwing down a gauntlet.
The effect worked, and she gasped. “Elk Valley?”
A glimmer in his eyes indicated his satisfaction, and she instantly regretted her reaction. “Familiar with the area?”
“Yes. I grew up there.” A wave of nausea swirled in her stomach, and she swallowed hard. Desperate to steady herself and the ground spinning beneath her, she reached for the pickup.
“You look a little green. Let me help you.”
She acquiesced, and he led her to the passenger side. The dog barked again, and she hesitated, unsure what to expect. Would an attack K-9 come lunging at her? Didn’t cops have those German shepherds or Malinois-type dogs?
“First, I have to relocate Spike.”
She stepped aside while he opened the passenger door. He turned, holding a beagle, who watched her with a curious expression. Totally not what she’d expected. “Aw, he’s cute.”
“He thinks so,” the detective chuckled. “Spike, kennel.”
Without hesitation, the beagle hopped into the steel kennel positioned in the back seat. Detective Ford offered his hand to help Naomi into the truck, then closed the door.
At least he hadn’t handcuffed her.
He slid behind the wheel seconds later, speed-cleaning the set of folders and takeout bags on the floor. “Mind if I ask a few questions before I drive you to your van?” Detective Ford started the engine.
“First, I need more information. Like why you were here to begin with?” She glanced from him to the windshield, wondering how long he’d been there. “Were you watching me?”
“Yes.” His answer came without hesitation or resignation. “It’s a good thing I was here, or that incident might’ve had a much different ending.”
“True.” She couldn’t argue with that logic. “Detective Ford, what’s going on? Am I in trouble? I apologize for trespassing on private property. I came out of the barn when I heard the vehicle approaching. If they were family members of Peter—” or the killer returning “—I didn’t want them assuming I was stealing or bothering anything.” Aware of her rambling, Naomi searched for a justifiable reason to visit a murder scene. Although, learning the detective watched her explained the strange sensation she’d had earlier. Her mother always said, Trust your instincts.
“Those men are determined to get something from you,” the detective said, refocusing her attention.
“I don’t know what they wanted or what they were even talking about.”
He quirked a disbelieving brow. “Let’s start with why you’re here?” He met her gaze, unrelenting.
Her neck warmed with embarrassment. “It’s complicated.”
“This is an active murder scene. Not exactly a tourist attraction. But then you’re aware of that, right, Naomi?”
“You still haven’t answered how you know my name.”
He didn’t respond.
Naomi surmised he’d ran her license plate, confirming the van was registered to her. A small measure of relief reassured her. “I assumed law enforcement had cleared the area since the yellow tape wasn’t on anything. I apologize. I meant no harm.” Naomi’s ears warmed with embarrassment. “Is that why you’re here?”
His expression remained stoic.
“Oh, wait.” Naomi’s hand flew to her mouth, and she whispered, “Are you watching to see if the murderer returns?”
“Something like that.”
She nodded.
“Let’s head to your van.” He drove out from the tree cover and approached the main road, then turned onto the Windham property.
“Do you think those men killed Peter?”
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “What can you tell me about them?”
“Nothing.” Naomi shifted in the seat, eager to go home and forget the terror of the night’s events.
“Did you notify anyone you’d be here?”
Sadness swooped down on her. Who cared where Naomi went any day? “No, sir. No one else was aware I was coming here. Until I started heading home tonight, I didn’t even know.”
“It appeared like a last-minute move.”
His words landed in her mind, slowly taking root, and she gaped at him. “How long have you followed me?”
“It’s my job.”
“How did I become your job?”
“Answer my questions first, and we can talk about the rest.”
What a frustrating man! “I came here because Peter Windham was an old friend of mine, though we’d fallen out of touch over the years. Today, one of my tourist customers talked about how short life is, and I immediately thought of him.”
“Are you having regrets?” He turned onto the lane leading to her van.
“No, not really.” She glanced down at her hands. “I wish things had been different between us, though.”
Why was he asking so many questions?
“Any idea why someone would hurt Peter?”
“No. He was a good guy. Peter always understood me,” Naomi continued. “When I moved out here, Peter visited me, but I made it clear I wasn’t interested in any reunions. I distanced myself from Elk Valley for a reason.” She paused, pondering. “That was the great thing about Peter. He didn’t press me or get offended. My husband was all I needed.”
“My uncle says we all have enemies, and they’re usually those closest to us.”
Naomi shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Did Peter have enemies?”
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“I disagree.” He pulled up next to her van, shifted into Park, then pierced her with a stare. “Tell me what happened. Did he say something to remind you of that horrible prank at the Young Ranchers Club dance ten years ago? If so, I understand why you did it.”
“What are you saying?” Her brows knit together as she processed the information. “Are you implying I’m a suspect?”
“Should I be?”
“Of course not!”
“Aren’t you tired of carrying all that weight? Talking to me is the only way I can help you.”
“Help me what?” She leaned into the seat, pulse racing.
“Understand why you returned to the scene of the crime. Your crime.”
“What?” Naomi blinked. “No. Peter was my friend. I was thinking about him and just came to...to... I can’t explain why I’m here. I made a mistake.”
“Let’s end this game. Why did you kill him?” His question alluded to the confidence of already knowing the answer.
If not for the pain radiating up her back, Naomi might not have had the courage to snap at the detective, but her patience waned. “That’s ludicrous!”
“Okay. Tell you what. Let’s get out of here and see what damage they did.”
Was he baiting her? She reached for the door handle. “Fine.”
“Spike’s been cooped up in here for a while. Mind if he takes a quick break with us?”
Whatever hurried this along. “Not at all.” She climbed out before he reconsidered and continued interrogating her.
Detective Ford walked around the hood, approaching on her side. He opened the back door, snapped on a leash for the beagle, and then gently placed the dog on the ground. He left the engine running, headlights illuminating the area. “How about it, Spike? Ready for cookies?”
The beagle barked and wagged his tail.
Naomi watched the team, intrigued.
With a flashlight in hand, the detective and his dog surveyed the van’s perimeter, inspecting the damage. Naomi trailed them. The beagle roamed to the full extent of his leash, sniffing the vehicle. Naomi paused at the rear of the van, gaping at the flat tires and shattered windows. What a disaster!
