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Sworn To Protect
Shirlee McCoy


Mission: Keeping Baby Safe The exciting True Blue K-9 Unit series conclusion Her husband’s murderer has his sights set on Katie Jameson. With the killer on the loose again, she’ll have to trust K-9 officer Tony Knight to protect her and her baby from the stalker who will stop at nothing to get his way. It will take all of Tony’s and his furry partner’s skills to find the killer before it’s too late.







Mission: Keeping Baby Safe

The exciting True Blue K-9 Unit series conclusion

Her husband’s murderer has his sights set on Katie Jameson. With the killer on the loose again, she’ll have to trust K-9 officer Tony Knight to protect her and her baby from the stalker who will stop at nothing to get his way. It will take all of Tony’s and his furry partner’s skills to find the killer before it’s too late.


Aside from her faith and her family, there’s not much SHIRLEE MCCOY enjoys more than a good book! When she’s not hanging out with the people she loves most, she can be found plotting her next Love Inspired Suspense story or trekking through the wilderness, training with a local search-and-rescue team. Shirlee loves to hear from readers. If you have time, drop her a line at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com (http://www.shirlee@shirleemccoy.com).


Also By Shirlee McCoy (#u25871cba-47df-5c4a-864a-ae6f4a390964)

True Blue K-9 Unit

Sworn to Protect

FBI: Special Crimes Unit

Night Stalker

Gone

Dangerous Sanctuary

Lone Witness

Mission: Rescue

Protective Instincts

Her Christmas Guardian

Exit Strategy

Deadly Christmas Secrets

Mystery Child

The Christmas Target

Mistaken Identity

Christmas on the Run

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


Sworn to Protect

Shirlee McCoy






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-09890-8

SWORN TO PROTECT

© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




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“You don’t think he’s out there, do you?” Katie asked.

Suddenly a light flashed, and the small storage shed that abutted the fence burst into flames.

Shocked, Katie jumped back, instinctively covering her belly as Tony’s arms gently wrapped around her to steady her.

“Get your cell phone, go in the bathroom, lock the door and call 911. Don’t open the door until I get back.” He hooked Rusty to the leash and walked to the door.

She was still standing in the hall, feet planted on the floor.

“Go. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Tony said, hand on the doorknob, dark eyes staring into hers.

TRUE BLUE K-9 UNIT:

These police officers fight for justice with the help of their brave canine partners.

Justice Mission by Lynette Eason, April 2019

Act of Valor by Dana Mentink, May 2019

Blind Trust by Laura Scott, June 2019

Deep Undercover by Lenora Worth, July 2019

Seeking the Truth by Terri Reed, August 2019

Trail of Danger by Valerie Hansen, September 2019

Courage Under Fire by Sharon Dunn, October 2019

Sworn to Protect by Shirlee McCoy, November 2019

True Blue K-9 Unit Christmas by Laura Scott and Maggie K. Black, December 2019


Dear Reader (#u25871cba-47df-5c4a-864a-ae6f4a390964),

Life is full of surprises. Some of them pleasant. Some not. In the book of Ecclesiastes, we are told that there is a season for everything under Heaven. A time to be born. A time to die. A time to rejoice. A time to mourn. Through the seasons of life, it is easy to get caught up in the sorrows rather than focusing on the joys. In the first seven books in the True Blue K-9 Unit series, you met heroes and heroines who have been through tough times and who have fought their way through doubts, disappointments and heartaches. With their trusty K-9 partners by their sides, they have sought answers to the murder of their beloved police chief, Jordan Jameson. Despite the challenges they face, they are able to cling to faith and trust in God to see them through.

Their stories resonate deeply with me. As someone who has faced very difficult seasons in life, I understand how easy it is to question God and His goodness, to wonder if He really cares. When we are deep in the darkest parts of our heartache, it can be difficult to see the light. But, even then, He is there. Whatever your challenges, remember—you are not alone.

And, because of that, you have the strength and courage to make it through to better times.

I love to connect with readers. Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram, or drop me a line at shirleermccoy@hotmail.com.

Blessings,

Shirlee McCoy


Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.

—Psalm 139:7–10


To the men and women in our armed forces, the true heroes of our world.


Contents

Cover (#uc6e36c69-8aa0-5f47-b3dc-9a6b35741c84)

Back Cover Text (#uc4c3bf99-3fc7-5b8d-af5e-fe1ccbbed331)

About the Author (#u3cbddfef-6028-56a7-a337-b21242299147)

Booklist (#u9bb52ac9-370e-58a9-b1e5-1616cd6b51b2)

Title Page (#u219b300d-afd4-5c1d-9a78-410d22bae672)

Copyright (#u97924dd3-ef50-521d-bd4a-018883c1e5f2)

Note to Readers

Introduction (#ue2a4f9e1-252c-5992-87fa-918b184c5896)

Dear Reader (#u80a34b9c-087d-5c0d-839c-e9ed408b3f82)

Bible Verse (#u6c10ca1e-a1b4-5f76-9956-ffc9dd49678b)

Dedication (#u0b5a23c9-32f1-528f-a63b-0257d20373ca)

ONE (#u2d16b306-59fa-5158-b46c-26fbd62702db)

TWO (#u09b1413a-39cf-5d6e-90ea-a0f940ba0c8d)

THREE (#u631a1d81-9c4c-5c27-a54f-db4fae55d040)

FOUR (#u9541181e-1d84-5135-9257-95d1a6e1d2d8)

FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




ONE (#u25871cba-47df-5c4a-864a-ae6f4a390964)


Once upon a time, Katie Jameson could have sprinted up two flights of stairs, raced down a hall and corralled twenty-five fifth graders with ease. She could have finished her workday, gone to the gym, worked out, made dinner and had a smile on her face when her husband returned home. Once upon a time—when Jordan had been alive and Katie had not been nine months pregnant—she had been energetic, enthusiastic and filled with hope.

Now, she was just tired.

Her mother-in-law’s constant chatter wasn’t making her any less so. Katie loved Ivy. She appreciated how much she and her husband, Alexander, had done since Jordan’s death. But, she had not been sleeping well these past few weeks. The pregnancy was nearing its end. She felt huge and unwieldy, her body uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

And, Jordan was gone. Murdered. The reason for it was as shocking as his death had been. Martin Fisher, a man Katie had gone out with twice before she had begun dating Jordan, had become obsessed with her and decided that getting Jordan out of the way would clear a path to the relationship he longed for.

The guilt Katie felt over that was almost overwhelming.

No matter how many people told her that it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t blame herself for Martin’s insane bid to win her love, she couldn’t help thinking that if she had turned down his invitation when he had asked her out to lunch a few years ago, Jordan would still be alive.

She swallowed down tears, refusing to let her mother-in-law see her sorrow. Ivy had lost her son. That grief had to be almost unbearable. Somehow, though, she had managed to pull herself together and focus on her three remaining sons, her granddaughter and, of course, Katie and the impending baby.

Ivy had done everything she could to make certain Katie didn’t feel alone during the pregnancy. If she had not been able to attend obstetric visits with her, Ivy had one of Jordan’s brothers go. Someone was always there, sitting in the waiting room.

But, no amount of in-law love could make up for the fact that Jordan was gone. Over seven months now.

She missed him every day.

Today, she missed him even more.

They should have been at home, checking the hospital bag to make sure everything was packed for the big day. They should have been putting the finishing touches on the nursery, putting away baby diapers and bibs, and making certain that their daughter’s home would be warm, welcoming and ready.

“Are you okay, dear?” Ivy asked, her voice echoing through the quiet corridor of the medical center. Unlike other obstetric patients, Katie had not been ushered to an exam room. She was being taken to Dr. Ritter’s office—a corner room in the far reaches of the medical building. This wasn’t a normal appointment. This was an appointment designed to put Katie at ease, to make sure she felt comfortable and confident as she reached her due date.

“Just a little tired,” she replied.

“Are you sure? Alex and I both feel that you’ve been pensive these last few days. More quiet than usual. We don’t want to pry, but we also don’t want to miss cues that you need more help.”

“You’ve given me plenty of help, and I’m fine. The baby is getting big, and I’m getting uncomfortable. That’s all there is to my pensiveness.” She kept her voice light and offered a quick smile.

“We thought maybe...”

“What?”

“I hate to even bring it up.” Ivy glanced at the nurse who was leading them down the hall, her voice little more than a whisper as she continued. “But, Martin Fisher’s escape from the psychiatric hospital has to have put you on edge.”

“It has. I’m not going to lie. I feel nervous, but the police and K-9 team are working hard to find him. They aren’t going to let him get to me. And, God is still in control.” The last one was what she was clinging to. Knowing that God was in charge. That He had a plan. That no matter what, He would work things out for His good.

“Yes. He is. And, you’re right—the NYPD is doing everything in its power to bring Martin in. I just... I don’t want you to worry. Not now. Now, with the baby’s birth so close.”

“I’m trying not to,” she said, pasting on another phony smile. She wanted to relax and enjoy the last days and weeks before the baby arrived, but how could she not worry? Martin Fisher was out there somewhere. So far, he had stayed away, but she knew that might not last forever. He might be biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to come after her. She was the object of his obsession, the reason he had killed Jordan and, maybe, the purpose behind his escape. If he did come after her, there were three possible outcomes.

He could kidnap her and hide her somewhere she’d never be found. In his twisted mind, the baby would be his.

He could kill her—in the classic “if I can’t have you, no one can” scenario.

He could try either of the above, and the NYPD would get to him first.

She was counting on the third option. Jordan had been the chief of the NYC K-9 Command Unit. His three brothers were all cops. They were committed to apprehending Martin before he could cause more harm.

She would be safe. Her baby would be safe. Katie had to be believe that.

“Here we are,” the nurse said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall. Young, with a bright smile and eyes the color of dark chocolate, she knew why Katie was being seen in the doctor’s office rather than an exam room. Everyone who worked at the clinic was aware of the circumstances surrounding the pregnancy—that the baby’s father had been murdered, that he had been one of New York’s finest.

What they didn’t know—what they couldn’t—was how loved Jordan had been. How kind. How good of a father he had planned to be.

“Thank you,” Katie murmured, blinking back tears.

She hated crying in public.

Just like she hated the pity she could see in the nurse’s eyes.

“Is there anything I can get you while you’re waiting?” the nurse asked.

“I’m good.” Katie stepped into the doctor’s office, took a seat on one of the leather chairs that faced his desk and dropped her purse on the floor near her feet. She had been in this room before. Just a week after Jordan had died, she had attended her first prenatal appointment. Dr. Ritter had met with her here before taking her to the exam room.

“Okay. You let me know if you change your mind. Dr. Ritter will be with you shortly. He’s just delivered a baby, but he’ll arrive at the clinic soon. Your next prenatal exam is scheduled for next week, right?”

“Yes.”

“Who knows?” The nurse smiled. “Maybe the baby will be here before then.”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely!” Ivy exclaimed, her cheerfulness a little too bright and a little too brittle. The previous day, she had been talking excitedly about the Thanksgiving meal she was planning. Ivy was the consummate hostess. She loved to cook and entertain, and she had invited a dozen people to join the family for Thanksgiving.

The house would be full.

But, one Jordan-sized space would remain empty.

Ivy was as aware of that as Katie.

The nurse smiled again and departed.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft hum of the heat blowing through the floor vents.

Ivy cleared her throat and settled into the chair next to Katie. “It’s going to be okay,” she said.

“I know,” Katie lied.

She didn’t know.

No matter how much she wanted to trust God’s plan, she couldn’t stop worrying that she wouldn’t be enough for the child she was carrying. Good enough. Smart enough. Strong enough. Loving enough. Parent enough to make up for the fact that the baby didn’t have a father.

This wasn’t the plan, God.

This wasn’t what was supposed to happen.

How am I going to do this alone?

How many times had she prayed those words since Jordan had died?

Too many.

And, there was never any answer. Never any clear direction as to how she could be all of the things the baby would need.

“You don’t look like you know it,” Ivy replied. She had aged since Jordan’s death; lines that had not been there before bracketed her mouth and fanned out from her eyes. She was a beautiful woman. Strong. Determined. But, losing her son had cost her.

“Like I said, I’m tired. It’s hard to sleep with this one kicking me in the ribs all night.” She patted her belly. No fake smile this time. She was too tired to try.

“I remember those days,” Ivy said with a soft smile. “Jordan was especially prone to keeping me up. It’s not surprising that his child is the same.” She reached out and laid her hand on the swell of Katie’s abdomen.

When she pulled away, there were tears in her eyes. “He would have loved this.”

“Yes, he would have.”

“And, he would have been a great father. He was always so good with children.”

“The kids at school loved him,” Katie agreed.

Jordan had been born and raised in Queens, and he had had a passion for mentoring the youth there. He had often visited schools with his K-9 partner, Snapper. He had also taught self-defense classes at the local YMCA. He had been Katie’s instructor when she had moved to New York and taken a self-defense class. Just in case.

A year later, he had visited the school where she was teaching. They’d bumped into each other in the hall. The rest had happened fast. Long conversations. Walks in the park. Jokes. Laughter.

Love.

Marriage.

They should have had their happily-ever-after.

Instead, Katie was alone. Getting ready to give birth to their baby.

“I wish I’d asked the nurse to bring me something to drink,” she murmured, her throat tight with emotion.

“They have water in the waiting room. And, coffee. Would you like me to bring you something?” Ivy offered.

“Would you mind? I’d love a cup of water.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. Should you stay here alone, though? The boys would have my head if they thought I’d left you unattended even for a minute.”

“I’ll be fine, Ivy,” Katie assured her. “Don’t worry. You’ll be back in five seconds.”

Ivy looked unsure, but then stood and hurried from the room.

Just as Katie had hoped she would. She didn’t want to talk about Jordan. Not now. Not when she felt exhausted and emotional. She wanted to keep focused on the birthing plan, on staying safe, on making sure she did what her brothers-in-law and the police asked her to. Since Martin’s escape, the Jameson brothers had been escorting her almost everywhere. Today, though, they were attending a training seminar in Manhattan. They’d asked fellow K-9 officer Tony Knight to run patrols past the medical clinic. They’d told her to be careful and aware. To stay close to their mother. To listen to her gut.

Right now, her gut was saying she was exhausted. That she needed to sleep. That she didn’t want to think about the danger or the tragedy.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she called, bracing herself for the meeting with Dr. Ritter.

The door swung open and a man in a white lab coat stepped in, holding her chart close to his face.

Only, he was not the doctor she was expecting.

Dr. Ritter was in his early sixties with salt-and-pepper hair and enough extra weight to fill out his lab coat. The doctor who was moving toward her had dark hair and a muscular build. His scuffed shoes and baggy lab coat made her wonder if he were a resident at the hospital where she would be giving birth.

“Good morning,” she said, feeling unsettled. She had been meeting with Dr. Ritter since the beginning of the pregnancy. He understood her feelings about the birth. He probably suspected a lot of the fear and trepidation she tried to hide. She never had to say much at her appointments, and that was the way she liked it. Talking about the fact that Jordan wouldn’t be around for his daughter’s birth, her childhood, her life always brought Katie close to the tears she despised.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

She could see his forehead and his brows but not much else. That seemed strange. Usually, doctors looked up from the charts when they entered the exam rooms.

“Is Dr. Ritter running late?” she asked, uneasiness joining the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“He won’t be able to make it,” the man said, lowering the charts and grinning.

She went cold with terror.

She knew the hazel eyes, the lopsided grin, the high forehead. “Martin,” she stammered, jumping to her feet.

“Sorry it took me so long to get to you, sweetheart. I had to watch from a distance until I was certain we could be alone.”

“Watch?” she repeated.

“They wanted to keep me in the hospital, but our love is too strong to be denied. I escaped for you. For us. And, I’ve been so close to you these past few weeks. It’s been torture.” He lifted a hand, and if she had not jerked back, his fingers would have brushed her cheek.

He scowled. “Have they brainwashed you? Have they turned you against me?”

“You did that yourself when you murdered my husband,” she responded and regretted it immediately.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her the few feet to his side. “We’re leaving here, Katie. We’re going to a quiet place where we can be together.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she replied, trying to yank her arm away, but his grip was firm, his fingers digging through the soft knit fabric of her sweater.

“Katie? I brought juice and water.” Ivy appeared in the doorway, a paper cup in each hand.

Her eyes widened as she saw Martin, her gaze dropping to his hand, then jumping to Katie’s face. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Martin responded, pulling a gun from beneath the lab coat.

The cups dropped from Ivy’s hands, water and juice spilling onto the tile floor, her screams spilling into the hall.

“Shut up!” Martin screamed, yanking Katie forward as he slammed the butt of the gun into the side of Ivy’s head. She went down hard, her body limp, eyes closed.

Katie clawed at Martin’s hand, trying to free herself and get to her mother-in-law. She had taken self-defense classes. She should know how to do this, but panic and pregnancy made her movements clumsy and slow.

“Stop!” he said. One word. Uttered with cold deliberation. The barrel was suddenly pressed into her stomach. She could feel the baby wiggling and turning.

She froze.

Just like he had commanded. Everything in her focused on keeping the baby alive.

“That’s better. You wouldn’t want the baby to get hurt in the scuffle,” he growled, yanking her away from the office. Several nurses were racing toward them, one of them yelling into a cell phone. A doctor barreled around the corner, eyes wide with shock as she saw what the commotion was about.

“Everyone just stay cool,” Martin said, the gun still pressed into Katie’s abdomen. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m just here for my wife.”

She stiffened at the word but was too afraid to argue.

“I’ve called the police,” the nurse with the cell phone said. “They’ll be here any minute.”

“Good for them,” Martin responded. “Everyone get out of our way.” He pushed open the stairwell door and dragged Katie down two flights of steps. She was stumbling, trying to keep her feet under her, terrified that she’d fall and hurt the baby, that the gun would go off, that he’d get her outside and take her wherever he intended.

“Stop.” She gasped, panicking as they rushed into the lobby on the lower level of the building. “I can’t breathe.”

“You’re breathing just fine, my love,” he murmured, smiling tenderly into her face as he pressed the gun more deeply into her stomach.

“Martin, really. I can’t.”

There were people all around, shocked, afraid. Watching but not intervening, and she couldn’t blame them. Martin was armed and obviously dangerous, his eyes gleaming with the fire of his delusions.

“Hey! You! Let her go!” A security guard raced toward them. No gun. Nothing but a radio and a desire to help.

Martin moved the gun, and Katie had seconds to shove him sideways, to try to ruin his aim, save the guard and free herself.

The bullet slammed into the wall, and a woman shrieked.

For a split second, Katie was free, running back to the stairwell, clawing at the doorknob, trying to get back up the stairs and away from Martin.

He grabbed her jacket and dragged her backward, nearly unbalancing her. She felt the barrel of the gun against the side of her neck.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Katie,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

She froze again.

“That’s my girl. Now, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand, the gun slipping away from her neck, and dragged her outside.






Tony Knight had been a police officer for enough years to know how to stay calm in the most challenging of circumstances.

The current situation demanded every bit of the discipline he had learned during his years on the force.

He watched as Martin Fisher dragged Katie across the crowded parking lot. She wasn’t fighting or protesting, and Tony couldn’t blame her. Martin was swinging the firearm in the direction of anyone who dared to call for him to stop.

Katie had to be terrified.

Katie.

His best friend’s widow.

The word still made his chest tight and his jaw clench. Jordan should be alive, getting ready to celebrate the birth of his first child.

Martin Fisher was responsible for his death.

That was reason enough to take him down.

But, Tony came from a long line of police officers. He believed in the criminal justice system. He believed in due process and trial by jury. He did not believe in vigilantism. To get Katie safely away from Martin, Tony would use whatever force was required. But, he also didn’t believe in risking the lives of innocent civilians—Katie and the big crowd watching. The moment Tony pulled the trigger, so would Martin—with the gun pointed at Katie’s heart.

Tony also didn’t like the idea of firing his weapon when he was aiming at a target so close to Katie.

“Let her go, Martin,” he called, his service weapon aimed at the killer’s head, his police dog, Rusty, by his side. The chocolate-colored Lab growled quietly. Trained in search and rescue, he had a powerful build and split-second reaction time. If asked to, he’d go after the perp and attempt to take him down.

Tony didn’t want to ask him to. Martin would shoot Rusty and have the gun aimed back at Katie in a heartbeat.

“Or what?” Martin asked, his yellow-green eyes focused on Tony.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” Tony responded, trying to keep him talking and buy some time. Backup was on the way. A 911 call had been placed moments before he had arrived at the medical center. He had been running his regular patrol route through Queens, detouring past the four-story brick building every few minutes. Worried, because he knew that none of Jordan’s brothers had been available to accompany Katie to her appointment.

“You’re a big talker, Knight,” Martin snapped, yanking Katie backward. Of course, he knew Tony’s name. He was obsessed with everyone and everything that had anything to do with Katie’s life.

“I’m also big on action. Let her go.”

Martin scowled. He was moving Katie to the edge of the paved lot. A few feet of lush grass separated the medical clinic’s property from the edge of Forest Park. Tall oak trees marked the eastern edge of the public area.

“But, you won’t risk Katie’s or the baby’s life,” Martin said. “For the sake of your buddy Jordan, if nothing else.”

He was right.

Tony couldn’t take a chance. He was confident in his ability to hit his mark, but if Katie moved, if Martin yanked her at just the wrong moment, she or the baby could be injured.

Or, worse.

He couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Put your gun down, Martin. Let her go. We’ll get you the help you need.”

“I don’t need help. I need my family.” He pulled Katie into his chest, pressing the gun against her side. The barrel was hidden by the soft swell of her abdomen, but Tony could see her face, her blue eyes and her blond ponytail snaking over her shoulder.

“Please, Martin,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just let me go. We can talk things out after you’ve gotten treatment.”

“Treatment for what?” Martin asked coldly, his eyes blazing hot in his impassive face.

He was delusional and dangerous, and he was stepping into the grass, dragging Katie with him.

Tony needed to stop him before he made it into the park.

“You were in the hospital,” Tony pointed out, stepping closer, his gun dropping to his side. He wanted Martin to be off guard and vulnerable, unprepared for what was going to happen. “And, from what I heard, you were doing well there.”

He hadn’t actually heard much, but Martin would do just fine locked up in a mental health facility for the remainder of his life.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. Or, the opinion of anyone else,” Martin snapped, but the gun had fallen away from Katie’s side, and he was glancing back, eyeing the sparse growth of oaks that heralded the beginning of parkland.

The proximity of Forest Park might make it more difficult to apprehend Martin. Tony was determined to get Katie away from the guy, but if Martin managed to disappear into the park, there would be plenty of footpaths and several roads that he could use to make a quick escape.

“Get back in your car,” Martin said coldly. “I would never hurt Katie, but Jordan’s kid means nothing to me.” He jabbed the gun into Katie’s stomach, and she winced.

“You can’t hurt the baby without hurting the mother,” Tony reminded him.

“I’m not as stupid as people think I am. I know a lot of tricks.” Martin moved backward, away from Tony, his K-9 vehicle and the parking lot.

Tony unhooked Rusty’s lead from his collar so he could release him. Normally the chocolate Lab wouldn’t attack. He was a placid, easygoing house companion and a die-hard worker when it came to search and rescue, but he hadn’t been trained to unarm dangerous criminals. He did, however, have a fierce desire to protect his pack.

Right now, he was barking, sensing the tension and anxiety and ready to do what he had to in order to make certain his people were safe.

“And don’t even think about releasing that dog!” Martin screamed, the gun shifting away from Katie as he focused on Rusty.

Katie slammed her elbow into his stomach.

Martin gasped and dropped the gun from his hand.

“Go!” Tony shouted, releasing Rusty as Katie darted away.




TWO (#u25871cba-47df-5c4a-864a-ae6f4a390964)


Fight. Free yourself. Run.

Jordan’s words echoed through Katie’s head as she sprinted away. He had said them dozens of times when he had taught the self-defense class she had signed up for a few weeks after taking the job teaching in Queens. The neighborhood had been safe, but she had grown up in the suburbs, and the hustle and bustle of the city had been disconcerting.

Plus, she had been a young woman, alone.

She had wanted to know that she could defend herself.

She had not been thinking about defending an unborn child.

She hadn’t been thinking about being a wife or a mother. She had been thinking about living life on her terms. That was something she had not been able to do when she had been a teenager moving through the foster-care system.

Rusty growled and snapped as he dashed by.

She ran in the opposite direction, darting off the curb, her ankle twisting. She tried to right herself, but the pregnancy made her ungainly, her body front-heavy and cumbersome.

She tripped and went down, hands and knees skidding across asphalt. Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. It had to be Martin!

She fought the way Jordan had taught her.

Elbow to the stomach, pushing back into his weight.

“Katie, stop. It’s me,” Tony said.

She knew his voice.

If she had not been so panicked, she’d have known his gentle touch—his fingers curving lightly around her upper arm.

He had done the same at the funeral, standing beside her as Jordan’s coffin was lowered into the ground.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

She stopped struggling and whirled toward the park. “Where did he go?”

There was no sign of Martin, but Rusty was nearing a copse of trees, still barking ferociously. He was trained in search and rescue and had no business going after a deranged and dangerous man.

“Rusty is going to get hurt,” she said, her voice shaking. “You need to call him back.”

“He’ll be okay,” Tony responded. He was tracking the dog’s movements as he relayed information into the radio.

If he was worried, she couldn’t hear it in his voice.

But, then, he was one of New York’s finest. Just like Jordan had been. He had great training, a good head on his shoulders and the ability to stay calm even in the most challenging circumstances.

He and Jordan had been best friends.

My fourth brother.

How many times had Jordan said that?

And how often had Katie set an extra plate at the dinner table? How often had she watched as the two men tossed balls for their K-9 partners in the yard behind the three-family house they’d shared with the Jameson clan? Countless times. She and Jordan had lived on the second level of the home. His parents just below them. His brothers and young niece above. They were the family she had longed for after her parents had died. They were the connection she had prayed she would have during the years she had spent drifting from one foster home to the next.

She had thought life would keep going in the same positive direction. She had thought—wrongly so—that the tragedy of losing her parents in a car accident when she was ten was enough for a lifetime.

She should have known better.

There was nothing in the Bible about life being easy.

There were no promises made to the faithful.

Except that God would be there. Guiding. Helping. Creating good out of bad.

The problem was Katie couldn’t see how anything good could come of losing Jordan. Or, of being stalked by a deranged man.

She shuddered, then her eyes widened. “Ivy! My mother-in-law. He hit her with the gun. Is she all right? I need to know that Ivy is all right!”

Word came over the radio just then that the building was secure, the suspect was on the loose and one victim, Ivy Jameson, had come to and was being treated for a minor head injury.

“Thank God,” Katie said, the breath whooshing out of her.

“It’s going to be okay,” Tony murmured, his hand still on her arm. “We’ll get him.”

“I hope so,” she replied.

His gaze dropped from her face to her belly.

There was a smudge of dirt on her shirt.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, meeting her gaze again.

He had the darkest eyes she had ever seen. Nearly black, the irises all but melding with his pupils.

“I don’t think so,” she responded. The baby was turning cartwheels, little elbows and feet and hands jabbing and poking. She would be an active child, and Katie wondered if Jordan had been that way.

It bothered her that she didn’t know.

They’d known each other for only a few years. They’d met, dated and married so quickly, people had probably wondered at their rush.

“You aren’t sure?” Tony released her arm and turned her hands over, frowning as he eyed the scraped and bleeding flesh.

“I’m fine. I just... I’d be better if you were going after Martin. I want him caught.”

“We all do,” he replied. “I called in the direction Martin took. Police are all over Forest Park, looking for him.” He held her gaze for a moment, then motioned at a small group of medical personnel that had emerged from the building and were standing near the clinic’s door.

“We need some help over here,” he said.

A nurse rushed over.

That was no surprise.

Tony had a way of getting people to do what he wanted. He wasn’t manipulative. He wasn’t demanding. He simply had an air of confidence that people responded to.

“Mrs. Jameson!” the nurse cried. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

“Me, too,” she murmured, suddenly faint, her heart galloping frantically. She couldn’t catch her breath, and she sat on the curb, the edges of her vision dark, sounds muted by the frantic rush of blood in her ears.

“Katie?” Tony said, his voice faint, his palm pressed to her cheek. She realized he was crouching in front of her, his face filled with concern. The nurse was beside her, checking the pulse in her wrist.

“I’m okay. I just want Martin caught.”

“Me, too.” He glanced toward the parking lot’s entrance. Several patrol cars were pulling in, with their lights and sirens on.

“You can go, if you want,” she said. “There are dozens of people around. Martin would never try to...”

She stopped, because she knew he would try anything to get to her. There was no telling what he might do. No one had imagined that he’d enter the clinic and go after her there, but he had. He had killed Jordan. He’d kill again to get what he wanted.

And, what he wanted was Katie.

Her pulse jumped at the thought, and her abdomen cramped with such surprising intensity, she gasped.

“Hun, are you okay?” the nurse asked, laying a hand on Katie’s stomach as if she knew exactly what was happening.

“Yes,” she replied, but she wasn’t certain.

“Feels like you’re having a contraction,” the nurse said.

“A contraction?” Tony frowned. “As in the baby is coming?”

“No. We’re a couple weeks out from that,” Katie managed to say.

The nurse smiled kindly. “The baby will come when he or she decides it’s time. If today is the day, there’s not a whole lot you can do about it.”

“Today can’t be the day,” Katie said.

“If it is, you’ll be fine and so will the baby. You’re at what? Thirty-six weeks? That’s early, but we deliver thirty-six-weekers all the time. They do remarkably well.” The nurse straightened and turned back toward the building. “I’ll get a wheelchair, and we’ll bring you back into the clinic, hook you up to a fetal monitor and see what’s going on.”

“Today can’t be the day,” Katie repeated, but the nurse was already hurrying away.

“She’s right,” Tony said quietly. “You and the baby will be okay. Even if she arrives today.”

“I don’t want to give birth until after Martin is caught.”

She didn’t want to give birth alone, either, but she didn’t tell him that. She hadn’t told anyone how afraid she was to go through this without Jordan.

“Like the nurse said, the baby will decide.” He smiled gently. “Noah just arrived. I’m going after Martin.”

He touched her cheek, then stood.

When he moved away, she could see her brother-in-law, the new chief of the K-9 Command Unit, rushing across the parking lot, his rottweiler partner, Scotty, bounding beside him.

“Katie!” Noah shouted, his expression and voice only hinting at the fear she knew he must be feeling. The baby she was carrying was the Jameson family’s last link to Jordan. She knew Jordan’s parents and three brothers cared about her, but the baby was blood.

“I’m okay,” she assured Jordan’s brother. “And so is your mother.”

She wasn’t sure if he heard.

The police sirens were loud. An ambulance was screaming into the parking lot. A large crowd had formed, the murmur of panicked voices drifting beneath the cacophony of emergency sirens and squawk of radio communications.

There were dozens of people around.

But, somehow, Katie felt completely alone.






Katie and the baby would be fine, Tony told himself as he jogged along the railroad tracks that cut through Forest Park. Rusty was in front of him, following a scent trail through oak leaves that partially covered the railroad ties that stretched between the rails. The Lab had an exceptional nose. They’d spent countless hours together training in wilderness-air scent and urban recovery. They were a team, partners in a way people who have never been dog handlers couldn’t understand.

Jordan had understood. Just like he had understood the desire to go into law enforcement, the deep-seated need to see justice done. They had been best friends for years. Jordan’s death had been a blow that Tony was still trying to recover from.

Martin Fisher was a cold-blooded killer—evil. When Tony thought about the horrific lengths Martin had gone to... Threatening to kill Katie via a bomb he’d said he’d rigged, Martin had forced Jordan to write his own suicide note, then had given him drugs to simulate a heart attack. The “suicide” had seemed plausible to some, but not to the Jameson clan or to Tony.

Jordan had been happily married, excited about life and enthusiastic about the future. He’d had everything to live for.

The discovery that Jordan had been murdered had not surprised Tony. He had been taken by surprise by the reason for his best friend’s murder. Every police officer understood the dangers of the job. Tony and Jordan had discussed what would happen if one of them were killed in the line of duty. Jordan had promised to always be there for Tony’s family; Tony had, of course, promised to always be there for Jordan’s. During Jordan and Katie’s wedding reception, Jordan had pulled Tony aside and reminded him of that promise.

If anything happens to me, you’ll make sure she’s okay, right?

You know I will, but nothing is going to happen to you, bro.

Something had happened, but not in the way either of them had imagined. There had been no gunfire during a robbery, no ambush during a response to a domestic incident. As far as Tony could ascertain, Jordan hadn’t even had a chance to fight. He had been murdered by a man who was obsessed with Katie, and he’d seemed to have been taken as much by surprise as the rest of the team had been.

Jordan’s German shepherd partner, Snapper, had been missing since the day the suicide note had been found. Recently the team had learned that Snapper had been picked up by an animal shelter not too long ago and adopted out. The once-majestic canine had been a stray on the streets for so long that he had become unrecognizable. The NYC K-9 Command Unit was attempting to contact the man who had adopted Snapper. So far, they’d had no success.

Jordan would want Snapper home.

He would want Martin prosecuted and tossed in jail.

He wouldn’t want anyone on the K-9 unit to circumvent justice and mete out punishment without due process.

Tony knew that. He had been working hard to keep his emotions in check and not allow anger to skew his perspective, but he was angry. Jordan had been one of the best. Not just at his police work but at his friendships and his life. He had been loyal, brave and devoted. He should have had decades of service left to the community. He should have grown old with Katie, raised a bunch of kids with her and retired into a life of leisure. Tony frowned, stepping over a downed tree that had fallen next to the tracks.

He had grown up in Queens and still lived there, renting a one-bedroom floor unit in a multifamily house right on the edge of Forest Hills. He and Rusty spent their downtime in this park, walking the trails and hiking through the oak woods. They both knew the area, and Rusty was confident as he loped ahead. After Tony had freed Rusty from his lead, the dog had circled back to find Tony in the park and then led him here. Like any well-trained search dog, he knew his job. Find the subject and return to the handler again and again, until the handler and the subject were in the same place.

With backup arriving and fanning out across the five-hundred-acre expanse of trees and trails, it wouldn’t take long to find Martin if he had stayed in the park. Based on the direction Rusty was heading, Tony didn’t think he had. There was a crossroad ahead, dirt and gravel that cut through the park. Vehicles were prohibited, but that didn’t keep teens and young adults from driving through.

Rusty sniffed an area in the center of the road, circled around and headed east. Tony followed. Tire tread marks were clearly visible, all of them sprinkled with leaves and debris. They had been there awhile. From the look of things, Martin wasn’t in a vehicle.

“Find!” Tony called, encouraging the Lab to keep searching.

Rusty made another circle, sniffing the ground and then raising his head. He had caught the scent again. Tony followed him off the road and into the woods.

The day had the crisp edge of winter, the bright sunlight filtering through a thin tree canopy. From his position, Tony could see a trail that wound its way through the trees.

If Martin knew the area and the park, he would know that the trail led to a busy road and an easy escape. Tony had every reason to believe Martin was familiar with the area. He had been renting an apartment just a few miles away before his arrest for Jordan’s murder.

A murder Martin had tried to make look like a suicide. Tony shook his head, unable to stop thinking about it, what Martin had done. Tried to do. If he had gotten away with it, Jordan’s family would have spent a lifetime trying to understand how they had missed signs of Jordan’s depression. They would have wasted energy on unfounded regrets.

The thought still filled Tony with fury.

Again, he had known immediately that Jordan would not have taken his own life. His friend had had too much respect and appreciation for all that God had given him.

There were others who had doubted, though. People who had whispered that Jordan might have had secrets or addictions or relationship troubles that had sent him into a spiraling depression.

Those whispered rumors had only compounded the tragedy of Jordan’s death.

Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, the sound carrying on the breeze. Another joined the chorus, the wild baying of a hound on the scent. This was Tony’s music, his symphony. He loved the sound of working dogs doing their thing. He loved being part of the NYC K-9 Command Unit. His father had wanted him to follow in his footsteps and become a homicide detective, but Tony enjoyed pounding the pavement, interacting on a daily basis with the community he served. The fact that his job choice had led him into K-9 work was something Tony was constantly grateful for.

He loved what he did.

He loved the life he led.

But, a piece of his soul seemed to have disappeared the day Jordan died.

They had been as close as brothers.

Losing him had left a giant hole in Tony’s life.

He had been trying to fill it with work, but even that had begun to feel hollow. There had to be more than long days stretching into long nights and a quiet apartment.

He frowned.

He hadn’t been sleeping well lately. That had to be the reason for his melancholy mood. Nearly eight months after Jordan’s death, and he was still burning the candle at both ends. In the first few months, he had been trying to figure out exactly what had happened to his friend.

Now, he was desperately trying to get a step ahead of Martin.

He was close. Tony could feel it.

Rusty growled softly, and the warning made the hair on the back of Tony’s neck stand on end. He knew his canine partner better than he knew the park or Queens or New York City. Rusty only growled when he sensed danger.

Tony whistled to call the dog back, then stood still, listening to the sudden silence of the park. A bird took flight, zipping away from a tree a dozen yards away. Leaves rustled. Branches snapped. Someone was coming, and he wasn’t being quiet about it.

Tony pulled out his gun and aimed it in the direction of the sound. Martin had dropped his gun near the clinic, but if he’d been able to get his hands on one firearm, he could certainly have another.

Seconds later, a teenager stumbled from the woods, his face ashen. Thin and gangly, his entire body trembling, he looked to be thirteen or fourteen. Probably a kid playing hooky from school who had run into a lot more trouble than he had expected.

“Hold it! Hands where I can see them,” Tony shouted.

The kid whirled in his direction, his eyes wide with fear. “Some guy has got my friend. He has a knife to his throat.”

Tony didn’t need to ask who. He knew. This was exactly what a coward like Martin would do. Find an innocent bystander and use him as a shield during his escape.

“Which way did they go?” Tony asked.

“That way!” The boy pointed through the trees.

“Stay here. Rusty, find!” The Lab plunged into the undergrowth. Tony followed, branches snagging his clothes. Rusty bounded ahead, ears flapping, tail high. He knew where he was going, and he shot straight as an arrow toward the scent pool.

He disappeared into a thicket.

Tony raced after him, radioing in his location and hoping backup would arrive quickly. Martin had already committed murder; there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t do it again. The teenager he’d kidnapped could be as easily disposed of as he had been abducted.

Rusty barked, and the sound reverberated throughout the woods.

“Call your dog off!” a man shouted, the voice high-pitched and filled with anger and fear.

Tony plunged into the thicket, pushed through the heavy bramble and thick vines and shoved his way into a small clearing.

Martin was just ahead, his arm around a young teen’s waist, a knife held against the boy’s throat. Rusty was snapping and growling nearby.

“Let the kid go, Martin,” Tony said calmly.

“Call off your dog,” Martin responded, the knife nicking flesh, a tiny bead of blood sliding down the kid’s throat.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t cry out. He just stared into Tony’s eyes, silently begging for help.

“Rusty, off,” Tony commanded.

The Lab continued to growl as he backed off and took his place next to Tony.

“That’s better,” Martin muttered, stepping backward, the knife blade still pressed against the boy’s neck. “Now, put your weapon down, and we’ll all be just fine.”

“You know I’m not going to do that, Martin.”

“Then, I guess this kid is going to die. Just like your buddy.” Martin’s eyes were cold, his tone emotionless.

“Put the knife down, let the boy go and we’ll get you the help you need.”

“I don’t need help. I need to get back what your friend took from me.” Martin nearly spat the words, his gaze suddenly sharp with rage.

“Please let me go,” the teen gasped, his eyes wide with fear, the thin trickle of blood staining the collar of his jacket.

“Once we’re out of the park and away from the police, you can go on with your day. If you cooperate.” Martin dragged the boy to the edge of the clearing, his focus on Tony. “None of this needed to happen. None of it. Jordan could have had any woman. He didn’t have to go after mine.”

“Katie was never yours, Martin. You know that.” Tony followed Martin across the clearing, Rusty close to his side.

“She was always mine. She will always be mine. She knows that. I know it. It is just the rest of the world that needs to understand.” Martin’s knife hand slipped away from the boy’s neck.

Tony lunged toward Martin, grabbed his wrist and dragged it away from the boy’s throat. The teen twisted free, shoving into Tony as he tried to run. He tripped, sprawling on the ground, his shoulders knocking Tony’s arm. Tony’s hand slipped, and the knife slid across his shoulder, slicing through fabric and flesh. There was no pain. Just the desperate need to regain control of the weapon.

Martin jerked back, the knife still in his hand. He swung, the blade arching through the air inches from Tony’s face.

“Back off!” Martin spat as he raised the knife again.

This time Tony was ready.

He gave Martin a two-armed shove backward, pulled out his firearm and aimed for Martin’s arm. He didn’t want to kill the man. He just needed to stop him. “Freeze!” he yelled, as the teen jumped to his feet and darted between them.

It was the second of opportunity Martin needed.

The knife blade dropped again, this time slicing across the boy’s cheek. He darted away, pushing through a patch of brambles and darting from the line of Tony’s gunfire.

Blood spurted from the wound in the teen’s cheek. He wobbled as Tony shoved past, ready to follow Martin.

“Stay here!” he shouted at the boy.

But, the kid didn’t seem interested in listening.

He followed Tony, rushing after him as he shoved through the patch of brambles and called in his location.

“I said, stay put!” Tony repeated, concerned for the boy, but more concerned that Martin would escape again. He had proven to be cunning and dangerous, and he needed to be apprehended before he hurt someone else.

“I’m not staying there waiting for him to come back for me,” the teen responded, his voice muffled and faint. One minute he was running behind Tony. The next, he was falling, his scrawny body knocking into Tony as he went down.

“You okay?” Tony asked, still moving. When the teen didn’t respond, he glanced back. The kid was lying prone, blood seeping from his cheek, eyes closed. He was clearly unconscious.

Tony itched to go after Martin, but he couldn’t leave an injured and unconscious teenager lying in the park alone.

Frustrated, he jogged back, crouching near the young man and feeling for a pulse. Every second he spent there was a second more of distance Martin put between them, but this wouldn’t be the end of the chase. As soon as backup arrived, Tony and Rusty would return to the hunt.

I’ll get you, Tony vowed. For Katie. For Jordan.

For himself.




THREE (#u25871cba-47df-5c4a-864a-ae6f4a390964)


Katie didn’t like hospitals. The scents and sounds brought back memories she’d rather forget. She had been ten when her parents died. An only child being raised by only children, she had had an idyllic childhood—a pretty house in the suburbs, nice clothes, good food and parents who’d loved her.

That had changed the night of her parents’ fifteenth wedding anniversary. She had been at home with a babysitter when a drunk driver had blown through a red light and hit her parents’ sedan. Her father had been killed instantly. Her mother had lived for nearly a week. Katie had visited her every day, standing alone in the ICU and listening to the whoosh and beep of the machines keeping her mother alive. She’d had no grandparents, uncles or aunts to support her as she grieved. Just strangers who had meant well but who had not been able to give her the only thing she had wanted—her parents.

Even now, all these years later, hospitals made her stomach churn.

She touched her abdomen, her fingers skimming across the fetal monitor that was strapped there. The baby was moving, her rapid heartbeat filling the silence of the room. The contractions had ended as abruptly as they’d begun, and for the past two hours, she had been lying in the hospital bed, watching the clock, wondering how Ivy was doing and if Tony and Rusty were all right. Worrying about what Martin might be doing.

He’d tracked her here earlier. Walked right into the clinic, donned a lab coat and fooled everyone he’d passed. He could do it again. Had he managed to circle back to the building? Was he inside right now?

Breathe, she told herself. An officer is stationed outside your room. Martin can’t get you. Or, hurt the baby.

She wanted the thought to be comforting, but Jordan had been tough, strong and smart. Somehow Martin had managed to get to him. If that could happen, anything seemed possible.

She had not heard anything from her father-or brothers-in-law since she had insisted they stay by Ivy’s side. They had left reluctantly, but they had left. Katie hadn’t expected or wanted anything else.

That didn’t mean she liked being alone.

For the first hour, regular contractions had distracted her.

Now, with the pain gone, her mind was spinning, her thoughts jumping from one thing to the next. She had spent nearly nine months preparing to give birth without Jordan, but the threat of an early labor, even just by a couple of weeks, had made her realize how desperately she still wanted him there.

He’d promised her a lot of things before they had married.

He had promised her even more when they’d stood in front of friends and family and spoken their vows. He had said he would love her always, that she would be first in his life after God, that he would put her needs in front of his own and be the family she longed for. That he would always be there for her.

She had believed him. But, even in the first few months of their marriage, she had known that her needs were secondary to the needs of the K-9 unit and the community. Jordan had taken his responsibilities to both seriously. He had worked long hours and devoted himself to justice. She had admired that more than she had resented it, but there had been a tiny bit of jealousy—a small part of herself that had wondered how they would both feel in a decade or two, after his job had pulled him away from anniversaries and holidays and birthdays a few too many times.

She frowned, shoved aside the blanket that covered her legs and got to her feet. She unhooked the monitor and set it on a table near the bed.

Lately, she had spent too much time looking at the past through a microscopic lens. As if, somehow, that could change all of the things that had happened.

But, of course, no amount of dwelling on her decisions, on the things she had believed and expected, could change the fact that Jordan was dead, that she was alone, that a man who had seemed as innocuous as a buttercup in a field of daisies had killed her husband and nearly kidnapped her.

Martin was deranged.

A dangerous man with a twisted obsession.

And, she was the target of that obsession.

She was the reason Jordan had been murdered.

No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t forget that, and she couldn’t forgive herself.

If she could go back to the days before she and Jordan had met, she would. Instead of being open to all of the new people in her life, she would have ignored Martin when she saw him at the church they had both attended. She wouldn’t have chatted with him when they ran into each other in the parking lot after service. She certainly wouldn’t have accepted his invitation to coffee the following Sunday morning. Nor would she have had lunch with him the week after that.

To Katie, those had not been real dates. They had been opportunities to get to know a nice guy in her new church community. Martin had been charming. He had also been a Sunday school teacher, a deacon, a man who quoted Scripture and lived a seemingly upright life. Katie hadn’t seen any harm in saying yes to his invitations.

If she could go back, she would have known the truth about what lurked beneath Martin’s charming exterior. She wouldn’t have spoken to him. She wouldn’t have gone out with him. She wouldn’t have unwittingly sparked the obsession that had cost Jordan his life.

She swallowed a hard lump of grief.

Her clothes were folded neatly and set on a chair near the door. Her purse had been retrieved from Dr. Ritter’s office and was sitting on top of them. She grabbed the purse and her clothes and ducked into the bathroom to dress. She wanted to be quick, but pregnancy made her once-athletic body cumbersome and clumsy. By the time she managed to get out of the hospital gown and back into her clothes, a nurse was knocking on the bathroom door.

“Katie? Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” She opened the door and smiled as she sidled past the nurse and slid her feet into her shoes.

“We were worried when the fetal monitor stopped reading your baby’s heartbeat.” There was an unmistakable note of censure in the nurse’s tone.

“I haven’t had a contraction in a couple of hours. The doctor said the baby’s heart rate is great, so I thought I’d go see how my mother-in-law is doing.”

And, then, she was going to ask one of her brothers-in-law to arrange for an escort home. She would call Tony on the way there and make sure he and Rusty were all right. She hoped they were. The last thing she wanted or needed was more blood on her hands.

She frowned, hiking her purse up on her shoulder and trying to shove the thought and the guilt away.

Maybe one day she would stop feeling as if she were responsible for the horrible things Martin had done.

Today was apparently not that day.

“We need to clear that with the doctor and with...” The nurse’s voice trailed off, her gaze darting to the now-open door.

“The police?” Katie offered. “I know they’re standing guard, but I’m not a criminal and I can go where I want.”

“We still need to clear things with the doctor,” the nurse argued. “You had quite a scare this morning, and Dr. Ritter wants to be certain you and the baby are healthy.”

“I’m as concerned as he is, but he has already assured me the baby looks great,” Katie responded, anxious to get back to the quiet home she and Jordan had shared. Sometimes, if she allowed herself, she could still hear him walking up the steps and sliding his key into the lock.

Despite the long hours he’d spent on the job and the weekends she had often spent alone, she had always run into his arms when he returned home.

She missed that.

She missed him.

“Is everything okay in here?” A uniformed officer peered into the room.

“Everything is fine, but I would like to visit my mother-in-law. If you wouldn’t mind escorting me there, I would appreciate it.”

“I’ll have to check with the chief,” he responded. She recognized most of the men and women in the NYC K-9 Command Unit. He wasn’t one of them.

“Noah Jameson is my brother-in-law,” she said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“Currently the chief is out in the field.” Another officer stepped into the room, a yellow Lab on a lead beside her. Katie recognized her immediately. Brianne Hayes was new to the K-9 team. One of the few female officers in the unit, she had proved herself to be a top-notch handler when she had helped apprehend a bombing suspect a few months back.

“Can you contact him? I’m anxious to see Ivy.”

“I can try, but...” Brianne hesitated, the look in her eyes reminding Katie of the one she had seen in the faces of the officers who had informed her of Jordan’s death.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Did something else happen to Ivy? Is she...worse than they originally thought?”

“She’s fine,” Brianne answered hurriedly.

“Did something happen to Tony?” Katie asked, her mind rushing in a direction she had been trying not to allow it to go.

She had been married to a police officer.

She knew the risks.

Every time Jordan had left the house, she had known there was a possibility he wouldn’t be coming home. Over the past few months, that nagging worry had transferred to the other men in Katie’s life—her brothers-in-law and Tony.

Brianne hesitated, her gaze jumping to the other officer. “He’s fine.”

Her answer was about as reassuring as the concerned look on her face.

“Then, why do you look like he’s not?”

“You need to relax and not worry, okay?” Brianne responded.

“I would worry less if someone would tell me what’s going on.”

“There isn’t much to tell. Martin Fisher hasn’t been apprehended. The chief is out searching for him with other members of the team. Until I hear something different, I’d rather you just sit tight and wait here.”

“The NYPD have been hunting for Martin since he escaped the mental hospital. There’s no guarantee he’ll be found tonight or tomorrow, and I can’t remain in the hospital indefinitely. Besides, I’m not asking to leave. I’m just asking to visit Ivy.” She wanted to leave, though, and if she could talk one of her brothers-in-law into bringing her home, that’s exactly what she planned to do.

“I have to check with the chief, but if I can get in touch with him, I’ll see if I can clear it. Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

“Sure,” Katie conceded. She was too tired to argue. Even if she weren’t, she would have allowed Brianne to do her job. She had too much respect for law enforcement to make trouble for any of the officers.

“Thanks.” Brianne smiled, her eyes shadowed with fatigue, her auburn hair tucked behind her ears. Like everyone on the K-9 team, she had been burning the candle at both ends, trying to locate and apprehend Martin.

“I’ll contact Dr. Ritter,” the nurse added, walking out of the room as the officers left.

Katie waited until they closed the door, then dug through her purse until she found her phone. She scrolled through text messages from friends who had heard about the attempted kidnapping on the news and were worried about her. Former colleagues had called, and she had gotten a call from her pastor. She didn’t listen to the voice mails. She’d do that later. For now, she had the information she wanted. Tony had not tried to contact her. That wasn’t surprising, if he was still out searching for Martin.

But, she couldn’t forget Brianne’s hesitation.

Something was wrong.

She was sure of it.

She swung open the door, determined to get the truth.

Tony was there, hand raised as if he’d been getting ready to knock. His jacket and uniform shirt were off, and a thick bandage was showing beneath the short sleeve of his T-shirt. There were specks of blood on his forearm and a smear of it on his cheek.

But, he was on his feet and alive, Rusty standing beside him.

She was so relieved, she threw her arms around him, pulling him close before she realized what she was doing.






Tony had been hugged hundreds of times, and he’d given plenty of hugs. At Jordan’s funeral, he had stood beside Katie, his arm around her shoulders, offering support, because he had known that’s what his friend would have wanted.

Now, though, she was nearly nine months pregnant, her belly pressing against his abdomen, her arms wrapped around his waist. He felt the baby move, the tiny life demanding attention.

He had made a promise to Jordan, and he meant to keep it. He would make certain Katie and the baby were safe. Even if that meant going out to hunt for Martin with a bandaged arm.

Katie stepped back, eyes dark in her pale face. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“The hug.” Her gaze jumped to Brianne.

“No need to apologize. We’re family.”

“You and Jordan always did call each other brother,” she said, offering a half smile.

“We did,” he agreed. She was obviously self-conscious about what had been a completely platonic hug.

“I was worried about you.” She touched the edge of the bandage that covered his cleaned and sutured wound. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I would have been here sooner, but Martin grabbed a teenager in the park, and he was wounded.”

“Oh no! Will he be okay?”

“He has a cut on his cheek and is shaken up, but he’ll be fine.”

“And your shoulder?”

“Also fine, but Noah insisted I get checked out at the hospital and take a couple of days to recuperate.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“It wouldn’t be, if Martin weren’t still running free.” He took her arm and led her back into the room. The less time she spent out in the open, the happier he’d be.

“I was hoping to avoid returning to the hospital room,” she murmured, stopping just over the threshold.

“It’s best if you stay here.”

“So everyone keeps telling me, but I’d prefer to go check on Ivy.”

“I spoke with Carter a few minutes ago. Ivy is doing well. She broke her wrist and has a mild concussion. They plan to keep her for observation, but she should be able to return home tomorrow.”

“Poor Ivy. This is all—”

“Don’t say it,” he cut in.

“What?” she asked, raising one light brown brow and eyeing him with a look she had probably used on her fifth-grade class when she was teaching.

“That it’s your fault.”

“If I hadn’t—”

“Katie, we could all spend our lives thinking about what we could have done differently, but none of us can go back. You and I go to the same church. I’ve spoken to Martin a few dozen times, and I never would have imagined he was capable of murder.”

“You’re right. I know that.”

“Then, stop feeling guilty for the actions of a sick individual. There is nothing you could have done to keep him from becoming fixated on you. Even if you hadn’t gone out with him, he may still have stalked you. He’s unhinged.”

“Maybe so.” She smiled, but her eyes were sad. They’d been that way since Jordan’s death.

“Exactly so,” he replied, and some of the sadness left her eyes.

“You’re always a cheerleader, Tony, and I appreciate it. But, I’d appreciate it a lot more if you would bring me to see Ivy and then drive me home.”

He should have refused.

Noah had already told him to get treatment and to return home to rest. There’d been nothing in his directives about visiting Katie or taking her home. But, Tony had never been one to blindly follow someone else’s lead. He was off the clock, and he knew how to protect Katie.

He’d bring her up to see Ivy, and then he’d check in with Jordan’s brother Carter, who was still recovering from being shot several months ago and had only just returned to the office part-time. The other two Jameson brothers, Noah and Zach, were hunting Martin while Carter stayed at the hospital with Ivy and their father.

“All right,” he agreed.

Her eyes widened, and she offered the first real smile he had seen in months. “Really?”

“Did you think I’d refuse?”

“Everyone else has.”

“I’m not everyone else.”

He touched her shoulder, brushing aside a thick strand of hair. She looked exhausted, her cheeks hollow, her eyes red-rimmed. In the few years that he’d known her, she had always seemed energetic and enthusiastic, her outlook optimistic. She had a clear-eyed, pragmatic view of life that had attracted Jordan and intrigued Tony. He had grown up in a family filled with silence and unspoken resentment. His mother had gone to the grave bitterly resentful of his father’s career. An NYPD homicide detective, Dillard Knight had devoted his life to law enforcement. He’d had little time for his wife or his only child. Even when Tony’s mother had been dying of cancer, Dillard had spent more time working than he had at home.

Jordan and his family had been Tony’s escape from that, and when Katie had entered the picture, the joy she took in the simple things in life had captured his attention. That may have dimmed after Jordan’s death, but she had kept her focus on the future and tried hard to stay positive.

He didn’t want that to change.

Not because of someone like Martin.

“It’s going to be okay, Katie,” he said.

“Ivy told me that right before Martin showed up,” she responded, stepping away and walking into the hall.

He followed, staying close as they walked to the bank of elevators that would bring them up to Ivy’s room.

Jordan had never been one to ask for much.

He was more likely to give than to expect to receive help.

Tony once again thought about how Jordan had pulled him aside on the morning of the wedding and asked him to look after Katie if anything happened to him.

She’s strong. She can go it alone, but I don’t want her to have to. I know my family will be there for her, but I want to know that she’ll have someone on her side who knows what it’s like to grow up without a firm support system in place. She’s like you, man—just looking for a place to belong. You two will understand each other better than any two people I know.

Tony remembered the words as if they’d been spoken seconds rather than years ago, and he remembered his response. That he’d be there if Katie needed him. Always. For a lifetime. If that’s what was necessary.

Right now, she needed him.

Whether she realized it or not.

For as long as that was true, he’d be there, ready to do what Jordan couldn’t—keep her and the baby safe.




FOUR (#u25871cba-47df-5c4a-864a-ae6f4a390964)


Ivy looked better than Katie had anticipated. Head bruised and arm in a cast, she was holding court in the hospital room, Alexander and Carter sitting on one side of the bed, the pastor and two friends on the other.

“Katie! What are you doing here?” Ivy cried as Katie and Tony walked into the room.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she responded, bending down awkwardly to kiss her mother-in-law’s cheek. Her belly seemed to grow bigger every day, the baby’s elbows and feet jabbing into her sides so often, she had begun to wonder if she was carrying a future dancer or gymnast. Jordan would have been happy with either of those choices.

Whatever our children decide to be will be fine with me, as long as they’re happy, he’d whispered in her ear the night she had told him she was pregnant.

He had been ecstatic.

She had been, too, but she had also been worried about how soon after the wedding the pregnancy had happened. She had wanted another year or two of teaching before she had kids, but Jordan had been gung ho to begin a family. She had also wanted to work until right before the baby was born, but Jordan had thought it would be best for her to give her notice before the new school year began.

In retrospect, she had compromised a lot in the short time they had been married. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was certainly glad to be pregnant and happy she would be bringing Jordan’s child into the world, but without teaching and Jordan, the days since his death had been long and empty. Time had stretched out, and it seemed to be taking eons rather than months for the baby to arrive.

“You wanted to see how I was doing? You’re the one who is about ready to have a baby,” Ivy exclaimed, laying a hand on Katie’s abdomen.

She tried not to tense.

She loved Ivy. She understood the gift the baby was to the Jameson family, but she wasn’t used to having a mother in her life, and the attention often made her feel awkward and uncomfortable.

Tony might have sensed that.

He stepped up beside her and leaned down to kiss Ivy’s cheek, distracting her from Katie and the baby bump.

“How are you doing, Mom?” he asked.

Ivy smiled just as she always did when he called her mom. “Better than you, I’d say. What happened to your shoulder?”




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