WITNESS PROTECTION 02: The Baby Rescue Read online

  “Hamburger, fries and coffee.”

  He placed their orders, getting the same thing as she did. When he inched his car toward the window, she expected him to say something, but he remained quiet. Relieved, she lounged back against the cushion, but the relaxation didn’t last more than a few seconds. Respecting her privacy, he’d let the subject go. Another thing she liked about the man.

  “Thank you.”

  He looked toward her. “For not prying? Partners don’t do that to each other. You’ll tell me if you want me to know. My asking you about your mother won’t change that.”

  He pulled up, paid for the food, then took the bag it was in and handed it to Lisette.

  The scent of grilled hamburger meat and French fries saturated every inch of the rental car. Lisette’s stomach growled again.

  Colton chuckled and eased into the stream of cars going north. “Let’s go ahead and dig in while it’s hot.”

  She tore into the sack, giving him his burger and fries first. Then she peeled off the wrapper and took a deep breath. As she chewed, she thought of what he’d said that had prompted her near-slip about her mother. “And anytime you want to talk about being in the foster care system, I’ll listen.”

  “Why? Do you think there was a problem?”

  “How old were you when your mother died?”

  “Ten.”

  “Did you get adopted?”

  “No. It can be hard....” His last word came out in a gruff whisper.

  “I won’t pry, either.”

  “So we’ll sit in this car possibly for hours and twiddle our thumbs?”

  “We can always discuss the weather.”

  “It’s getting colder and clouds are starting to move in. There’s a chance for snow. Not much to discuss.”

  “Do you think it will snow again?” Lisette peered at the sky turning darker.

  “No, at least I’m hoping not. Okay, we exhausted that subject. What’s next?”

  “When are you leaving the Denver office?”

  He popped a fry into his mouth. He didn’t say anything while he changed lanes and put his blinker on to turn left. “Why did you ask that?”

  “Your usual pattern is to stay for two years, then move on to another office. Your boss told me you had been in Denver two years.”

  “What else did he tell you?”

  “You’re a good marshal. You get your man. Those were his words, not mine.”

  “After this case is over, I’m going for interviews in Dallas and L.A.”

  “I can’t help you with either place. Denver is the first sizable city I’ve been in.”

  “You graduated top of your class. You should have been able to pick where you went.”

  “That didn’t happen.” Before he asked why and they were back to the subject of her mother, Lisette asked, “Why do you like to move every two years? I hope I get to stay awhile in Denver. I like it.”

  “I like Denver, too, but I’m used to moving. I used to move a lot as a kid.”

  “The first eight years I lived in New Orleans, then we moved several times before ending up in the Washington, D.C., area. The stability of living in one place was nice in New Orleans. I call that place home.”

  He shrugged and parked a few houses down from Buddy Smith’s. “I don’t know anything else. I look at being assigned to a new place as an adventure.”

  “That kind of adventure I can do without. You have to learn who likes what or doesn’t. There’s always a pecking order at a new office.”

  “It’s not a problem for me. When you don’t care what others think about you, a heavy burden is lifted off you.”

  “So that’s how you handle all those moves.” She’d cared too much. That was why what happened after her mother’s discharge had upset her so much. She was bothered about what people thought of her. Even if they never said anything directly to her, she knew they were judging her.

  “If I hadn’t, it would have made life difficult. I refuse to play those games. It was bad enough in school, but as an adult I wasn’t going to.”

  “What’s your secret?”

  “I remember that in God’s eyes we are equally loved, so I don’t have to slave away trying to best another. He loves me for who I am.”

  The thought was freeing, but she couldn’t convince herself to do that. She’d been measured against her mother all her life—first seeking her approval, and then later trying to live down her reputation.

  “He loves you, too.” Colton took the last bite of his hamburger, then washed it down with a gulp of coffee.

  Did the Lord accept her with all her flaws? Her mother never had been able to, and she was her parent. So how could she expect Him to?

  “Make yourself comfortable. It may be a long afternoon.” Colton adjusted his seat back from the steering wheel and relaxed. “At least it looks like someone is home. A car is in the driveway.”

  EIGHT

  An hour later Colton hung up from talking to Quinn. “He’s getting the search warrant and should be here soon.”

  “Did Janice come back with him or is she staying at the lodge?” Lisette leaned forward in the car and rolled her shoulders, then kneaded her nape.

  “She’ll check out the night shift and come back to Denver tomorrow morning unless we need her. So far they haven’t discovered anyone who knows the light man, but they sell the coats in the gift shop at the lodge.”

  “Not that I haven’t enjoyed sharing a few field stories―yours are much more interesting than mine―but I’m ready to pick up this Buddy Smith and find out what Saunders is planning. I hate the thought that Baby C. is being cared for by that man.” Lisette shivered, hugging her arms.

  “The sun might be back out now, but we’re in the shade. You want me to turn the heat on?”

  “It’s not the cold so much as thinking about the child’s life at stake, but I’ve got to admit it’s getting chilly in here.”

  Colton reached to turn the key in the ignition. The past hour they’d exchanged information on the different jobs they had worked on, but they never went further into the past. It was as if they had silently agreed their childhoods were off-limits. He wanted it that way, but at the same time he wanted to know more about hers. He knew he couldn’t have it both ways, but he felt a connection to her because of their childhoods. Although different, he sensed she’d been as lonely as he had.

  “What if we’ve been here all this time and Smith isn’t in the house?” Lisette put her hands up at a nearby vent to warm them.

  “That might be the case, but even if he isn’t there, we’ll go in with the search warrant and see what we can find.”

  “I want the man. I have a score to settle. My head still throbs, and Neil won’t be out of the hospital for another day.”

  Colton grinned, picturing Lisette trying to take down the man over six feet eight or so inches while she was no more than five-four. “If he’s as big as you said, I want to see that.”

  “Do I detect amusement in your voice?”

  He indicated an inch with his thumb and forefinger. “Just a little.”

  A movement at the front right window of Smith’s house caught Colton’s attention. “He’s opening the blinds.” He glimpsed a large shadow, then nothing. “Maybe he’s getting up.”

  “Sleeping in. What is that?”

  “Something we don’t get when on a case.”

  “Let’s get back to that amusement in your voice. I can take you down. It isn’t size but technique.”

  “But size is an advantage.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why do men—” She riveted her attention to the porch. “He’s coming out.”

  Colton watched the massive man, probably three hundred pounds of muscles, lock his front door. Dressed in jeans, boots and a heavy overcoat with a backpack slung over his shoulder, Smith wasn’t going to get his mail. “He’s leaving. We’ll apprehend him.

  She looked at him. “Maybe we should follow him. He might take us to Saunders.�
�

  “We could, but we risk losing him in traffic. Rush hour has started. We have enough on him to pressure him into talking. Besides, we need to check his house. It’s possible he has Baby C. Let’s see if we can get nearer before he spots us.”

  “I’ll exit out your side. It’s closer to the curb and that hedge will block us some.”

  Colton eased his car door open and exited the vehicle while Lisette climbed over the console in the middle front seat and followed him to the sidewalk. After removing his gun from its holster, he stuck it in his pocket and kept his hand clutching it. “Right now he’s in no hurry, but the second he really sees us and gets a good look, he’ll make a run for his car. If we have to, shoot his tires while I approach him. We don’t want him going anywhere or drawing a weapon.”

  He felt her presence behind him the whole time he was in front of Smith’s neighbor’s yard. When the huge man was ten or eleven feet from his car, he swung his backpack around and grasped it in his right hand.

  With his Wilson Combat up and ready to shoot, Colton stepped out in clear view of Smith. “U.S. Marshal. Halt and get down on the ground.”

  Smith froze, his eyes growing big, his face going pale. Then suddenly he heaved his backpack at Colton, swung around and started running toward his house. Colton took out after him with Lisette right behind him. If he got inside, he could hole himself up in there. No telling what kind of firepower the man had in his place.

  Pumping his legs as fast as he could go, Colton gained on the large man, the sound of his heavy breathing drifting to Colton.

  Crack.

  Smith went down on his steps. Colton dove for cover, using the porch as a shield. From the angle of the bullet hitting Smith, he had a little protection in his current position. He searched the terrain for a sign of where the sniper was while he shouted, “Lisette, okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m behind the car. The shot came from that crop of trees in the yard next door.”

  Colton glanced at Smith and saw that his chest was rising and falling, but he’d been hit in the stomach and was bleeding heavily. He pulled out his cell and called for backup and an ambulance.

  “I see movement,” Lisette said in a whisper.

  Colton stuffed his cell back in his pocket and turned his full attention to the grove of tall pines in the neighbor on the right’s yard. A man in a dark hoodie made a move, sprinting away, using the cover of the trees.

  “Help Smith. I’m going after the sniper. It might be Saunders. Similar in size and build.”

  With gun in hand, Colton sprinted across Smith’s front yard and plunged into the small woods, using the pines as a shield. Adrenaline surged to every part of him, his heart racing.

  The man, maybe a football field away, pivoted, planted himself behind a tree and took a shot.

  * * *

  Another shot rang out in the woods to the right. Lisette squinted in the glare of the sun off the white snow, trying to see Colton. She couldn’t. She wanted to help Colton, but Smith was alive.

  Lisette knelt down beside him, took off her coat and pressed it into his wound to try to stem the flow of blood. “An ambulance is on its way. Hang in there.”

  “He...betrayed me.”

  “Who? Saunders?”

  “Yes.” Smith coughed, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Where is he? We can pick him up and make him pay for shooting you.”

  “House on...” More coughs racked Smith, bringing his head up off the step. He pointed down the street, then went limp and collapsed back onto the stair, his eyes staring at her.

  A lifeless look.

  * * *

  The last shot had hit the tree inches from Colton, pieces of wood flying everywhere. Several stabbed him, stinging his cheek, arm and chest. He ducked back for a few seconds, then slowly peered around the trunk. The sniper was on the run again. Colton darted after him. His battered and bruised body caused by the wreck and shooting yesterday protested the punishing pace.

  In some heavy brush, some evergreen, the man disappeared into the thicket. But Colton could hear the slapping of branches, the crunch of his steps in the icy snow. He followed the footsteps and the noise. The dense vegetation hindered his progress. A thorny bush snagged his coat. He slipped from it and kept going.

  Suddenly he flew out into a clearing, stumbled and nearly fell into the snow. The only evidence someone had been there was the set of footprints that veered to the left and back into more undergrowth. The sound of an engine starting echoed through the quiet, followed by sirens coming closer. Colton raced in the direction of the car. He might still be able to stop the sniper.

  Several yards ahead of him, he saw the back end of an old white Chevy. As it went around a bend, he glimpsed the first three numbers of a Missouri license plate―171.

  Colton leaned over, dragging in deep breaths of the frigid air. Straightening, he called Lisette to warn her in case the sniper went back to see if Smith was still alive.

  “He got away in a white Chevy ten years old with a partial license number―171. He might want to finish the job.”

  “It’s too late. Smith died. The ambulance is here and a sheriff’s car is pulling up.”

  “Let them know about the car and put a BOLO out on it. The driver is over six feet tall, probably about two hundred pounds. It could be Saunders but I’m not sure. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “You okay? You sound out of breath.”

  “I am. I’ve lived here two years and still get winded at this altitude.”

  “We have a lead from Smith so hurry.”

  * * *

  Lisette picked up Smith’s backpack and checked the contents—a gun and ammunition along with some money and a change of clothes. No directions to Saunders’s location or a map with a big X to mark the spot where he was with Baby C. Smith just couldn’t have made it easy for them.

  Using Smith’s set of keys from his pocket, Lisette let herself into the house and did a walk through to make sure Baby C wasn’t inside. She found nothing to even indicate a child had been in the house at one time. She went back outside and covered the distance to Smith’s car, checking the trunk and the inside of the vehicle. Again nothing. She sensed Colton before she saw him coming out of the small grove of trees, slipping into his overcoat.

  She met him halfway across the yard. “I went through Smith’s backpack and briefly checked his house and car for signs of Baby C. I didn’t find anything of use. I think we should canvas the area as soon as possible. At the end, Smith said, ‘House on...’ and pointed toward the west like he was indicating a place where Saunders was. It may be on this street. If not, we should expand our search. He could have been nearby. Since his neighborhood has large pieces of property with lots of trees, it isolates each home from the others. A good place to hide.”

  “Agreed. I’m calling in help with the surrounding streets while we take this one. I’m sure Saunders is long gone if that was him, but we might find a clue to where he’s going or who he’s contacting to sell the baby to. He would have left in a hurry, if Saunders is the sniper and in a nearby house. That could lead to a mistake.”

  “Want to split up?”

  “It’s probably better not to. The man is desperate.”

  Lisette gestured at the west end of the block. “We should start there.”

  “Just a sec. I need to call my boss. I’ll have him organize the search of the other streets. He should be here soon. I’ll have Quinn go through Smith’s place.”

  “I’ll let the two deputies secure Smith’s house.” Lisette made her way to the nearest one. “Marshal Phillips and I are canvassing the street. Guard the house. Don’t let anyone inside until Marshal Parker shows up.”

  Two minutes later she and Colton walked toward the end of the block. He’d gotten an extra coat from his car for her since hers was bloodied. When they approached a one-story tan house with peeling paint and a broken porch swing, Colton rang the bell.

  “Yes, c
an I help you?” An elderly sounding voice came through the still-closed door.

  “Ma’am, I’m Deputy U.S. Marshal Phillips, and the woman with me is Special Agent Sutton with the FBI. There was a shooting down the street, and we would like to have a word with you.”

  The door opened a few inches with a chain still on it. A gray-haired lady with a sweater on asked, “Let me see your credentials.”

  Colton showed her his and then Lisette did the same. Stepping back, Colton waved for her to talk to the woman. Lisette moved forward while her partner kept an eye on the area.

  “Do you know Buddy Smith, who lives across the street three houses down from you?”

  “I knew his mom. Don’t have much reason to know him. He used to give his ma problems. Is he the one who was shot?”

  “Yes. May we come in and talk?”

  “No way, José. I don’t open the door for any stranger.”

  “Okay. I can understand that. Have you noticed anything unusual going on here the past few days?”

  “Quiet until today. I nearly had a heart attack when I heard the gunshots. More than one. Scary.” The woman frowned.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Mabel Vance. Been living here for forty years.”

  “So other than this afternoon, there’s been nothing out of the ordinary occurring on this street?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said it has been quiet.”

  “So something unusual did happen?” Lisette glanced back at Colton.

  “Yes, next door. I heard a baby crying at night for hours. The house is rented, but I ain’t heard a baby crying there in years.”

  Lisette looked toward the piece of property Mabel was talking about. The homes were fifty feet apart, closer than most on the block, but still far away if the windows were shut to hear a child screaming. And since it was winter, Lisette doubted either had opened the windows. “You’ve got exceptional hearing.”

  “Not really. I was outside taking my garbage out. The can is on that side of the house. The crying was faint, but I’m sure it was a baby. No TV because it went on and on. No person in their right mind would watch a show that long with that racket.”