He handed it over and she dialed Ken’s number, thankful she knew it by heart. He answered, his deep bass voice familiar and reassuring. She had only known him six months, but they had become fast friends in that time, and she often looked to him as a brotherly figure, though they were only ten years apart in age.
“Ashlynn? Are you okay? I heard about what happened downtown. Is it true someone placed a bomb in your car?”
“It does look that way,” she admitted. “Vince Mason wants a list of all the threats our office has received, especially any directed at me specifically or any involving explosive devices.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said, then in a tone of concern added, “I’m glad you’re safe. I wish you’d be more careful, Ashlynn. I’ve tried to warn you that there are a bunch of crazies out there.”
“I know, Ken, but I’m fine. I just want to get home. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office.”
She ended the call, then handed the phone back to Garrett. He slid it into a holder on the dashboard. Suddenly, the silence grew awkward between them, and she realized she should have kept Ken on the phone longer. She could have asked him for an update on any number of cases they were working on together.
The uncomfortable silence lengthened. At least they were nearly to her house.
“So, you have a son,” he said. “What’s his name?”
Her heart hammered in her chest at his question. She didn’t like where this conversation was going. Didn’t want him asking about Jacob. He’d given up that right when he’d abandoned them, and she already had one man trying to pull her child from her. She didn’t need another. She had to keep him at arm’s length when it came to her little boy. How could he ever make up for the fact that he hadn’t wanted her and his child?
“Jacob,” she said, then thankfully noticed they were nearing her home. “That’s my house,” she said, pointing out the driveway. He pulled in and parked beside Mira’s small sedan.
“Thank you for the ride,” she said, hoping that would be the end of it and they could each go their separate ways.
But Garrett was already getting out. “I’d feel better if you let me check inside.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
“Someone tried to kill you today, Ashlynn. Who’s to say they haven’t come here to finish the job?”
“I would know if someone had been here, Garrett. I have a security system.”
He spotted the car in the driveway. “I guess your husband would have phoned you, huh?”
It was none of his business about her marriage, and she didn’t want him to think she’d failed without him. “My nanny and son are in the house. Mira would have called me if something was wrong.”
“Still, I would feel better if you’d let me check it out. It won’t take long.”
She finally relented and walked to the front door. Anything to satisfy him and get him away from her home and away from her son. However, she stopped walking when she noticed the front door ajar, a flicker of fear racing through her.
Garrett saw it too and stiffened as he reached for his gun, pushing past her. “Stay here,” he commanded. He shoved open the door and entered the house.
But she wasn’t going to obey that command. Her son was inside that house. If someone else was there, someone who meant to get back at her by harming her son, she wasn’t going to be still.
“Jacob!” she screamed, hurrying past him and running up the stairs.
“Ashlynn, wait.”
She heard his footsteps behind her but she wouldn’t stop until she knew Jacob was safe.
Sounds from the TV in the playroom greeted her at the top of the stairs, but she heard nothing else. Jacob was a rambunctious four-year-old and the house was too quiet. Panic ripped through her and she took the last few stairs in a haze of anxiety and fear. She pushed open the playroom door. Jacob’s toys littered the floor and the television was still playing his favorite evening show...but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
“Jacob!”
She rushed into the room, intent on looking in his favorite hiding spots. She tripped over something beside the couch and hit the floor, landing hard on her hands. Ashlynn turned to see what she’d tripped over and saw a leg jutting out from behind the couch. Panic hit her at the sight. It was too big to be Jacob’s leg, but...
She looked up at Garrett, who now stood in the doorway, his gun drawn. His eyes focused on the leg. She moved to look behind the couch and saw Mira on the floor. The young girl wasn’t moving, her eyes were vacant, and the carpet was stained red with blood around her.
Ashlynn didn’t need to check for a pulse to know Mira was dead.
She screamed Jacob’s name and leaped to her feet. If someone had broken in and killed Mira, Jacob might have gotten scared and hidden.
“Jacob!” She ran down the hall to his bedroom and burst in, searching under the bed and in the closet. He wasn’t there. She checked her bedroom then rushed downstairs. She called for him, frantic with worry as she checked every nook and cubby, searching for any place he might have hidden.
He was nowhere to be found.
Panic filled her. Mira was dead, murdered, and Jacob was missing. If something had happened to him...
Ashlynn dropped to her knees as anguish rushed through her.
Where was her child? Oh, God, where is Jacob?
* * *
Seeing her this way was like a sucker punch to his gut, and all Garrett wanted to do was sweep her up into his arms and make everything better. He checked that response, realizing not only might she object, but her husband wouldn’t be too thrilled with him, either. He’d noticed the family portrait of them when he entered the house. And he no longer had that right. Even if she hadn’t been married with a child, there could never be a future for them, not after all he’d seen and all he’d done. He’d walked out of a firefight unscathed when other men, better men with families, had died, and his grief had pushed him to kill and maim all in the name of war.
But his heart hurt for her. He couldn’t imagine the devastation of having her child ripped from her. She’d already had such a difficult life, having lost her parents in a car accident when she was eight then being placed in an abusive foster home and nearly beaten to death by her foster mother. But it seemed she’d turned that all around now. She had a nice home in a fancy neighborhood, a good job in the DA’s office and a beautiful family.
He holstered his gun and pulled out his cell phone to alert the police about the dead girl in the playroom and the missing child. This couldn’t be a coincidence. It had to somehow be connected to the bomb in her car earlier today.
Garrett stopped dialing when he heard a noise from outside the house. His ears perked up and all his senses went on alert. He put away his phone and retrieved his gun. Someone was here. He grabbed Ashlynn’s hand, pulled her to her feet and pressed his hand against her mouth to keep her from speaking. Her eyes widened in fear and her lashes were wet with tears, but she didn’t ask questions.
“Follow me,” he whispered, his instincts warning him to tread cautiously. He led her away from the front windows but peered out of them from the side, peeking through the heavy curtains. He saw nothing but the setting sun.
Something was wrong. He felt it in his gut.