Julia reflexively raised a hand to cover the scars where the rope had carved into her skin. “Who are you?” The ringlets of her blond hair dripped water on her black T-shirt and red plaid pajama bottoms.
Eli held his badge at her eye level. “I’m U.S. Marshal Eli Cayne. May I come inside? There’s a matter of great importance I need to discuss with you.”
Doubt washed over her beautiful face. Even if she didn’t remember the attack, the lingering fear was evident.
He showed her the manila envelope he held in his other hand. “Our office has received information that there has been a hit ordered—on your life.”
She clenched the black fabric of her shirt tight into her other hand, her knuckles pale under the pressure. “Excuse me?”
“Someone has compiled a profile of information about you for a hit man to use to kill you. I’m here to get you to a safe place. Please, can I come inside?”
At first, the engine accelerating was distant until the screech of tires brought the hairs on Eli’s neck to attention. Instinct propelled his hand forward, hard into Julia, pushing her into the foyer. A bullet whistled past his ear, shattering a picture frame directly behind the remnants of her silhouette.
Julia landed flat on her back on the hardwood floor. Eli delivered a swift kick to the door, throwing it closed and turned to lock the dead bolt. He fell to his knees at her side. Her eyes were wide with fright, and her mouth gaped open as she tried to draw a breath.
“You’re all right. You just got the wind knocked out of you.” He pulled one of her hands to his chest. “Slow, easy breaths.”
Another bullet crashed through her front picture window. He had to move her to a safe place.
As Eli scooped her up, his fingers caught in the tangles of her long, wet blond hair. He carried her up the staircase just a few steps shy of the front door. Higher ground would be his only advantage in this fight against an unknown enemy. At the crest of the stairs, three doorways confronted him. He shouldered through the first one on this right.
A bathroom. No windows.
He swung her around and pulled the shower curtain aside resting her in the bathtub. “Stay here.”
Julia shook her head. “No.” Her brown eyes held more defiance than her whispered response.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “I’m locking this door. Don’t open it until you hear me say the words red daisies.”
He pushed the lock closed on the door and yanked it behind him, testing the knob once to make sure it was secure. He drew his weapon and crossed the hallway into Julia’s bedroom.
“Shots fired. I need backup,” he whispered into his wrist mic.
His FBI liaison, Ben Murphy, sounded distant—out of breath. “I’m in foot pursuit of the subject’s car...trying to get...a license plate. Local PD notified.”
Good. Knowing extra help was on the way left Eli free to accomplish what he needed to do to protect Julia. He couldn’t assume the rest of the house was clear. The number of assailants that could be after Julia was unknown. Was someone lurking in her home now—waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack?
He hugged the wall of her bedroom. It was clean and uncluttered. There was a computer desk with a bookshelf above adorned with several trophies. Competitive swimming if he remembered correctly. A Bible lay open on her bed, pillows piled high against the headboard.
Slowly, he slid open the door to the master bathroom and noted soapy water in the tub. He’d interrupted her from a soak and quiet time. Backing out of the bedroom, he entered the other room. A spare bedroom. The closet clear.
Back in the hallway, he faced the stairs. So far, Julia had followed his direction. The door to the bathroom remained closed. He eased by and took the stairs in cautious increments. At the bottom to his left was a small dining room. A quick check showed no one hiding under the table. To his right was a small sitting room. Shards of sprayed glass glittered in the early-morning light as the curtains waved in the soft breeze. In the distance, the faint sound of sirens approached his location.
Eli faced the hallway toward the back of the first floor with the TV room and kitchen. From the fruity aroma he guessed she was brewing tea even as the color of her eyes reminded him of the rich chocolate brown of coffee.
Those eyes...
He shook his head to clear the image.
Focus.
Distraction was always the first nail in the coffin of a law enforcement officer.
The pantry was clear. Single-car garage with an older-model white SUV. No one underneath. He opened the door to her backyard. Small, quaint. No high trees or shrubs that could be hiding a suspect. Cheerful flowers edged the neatly cut grass with garden shoots just venturing up from the warmed spring ground.
He reentered the house and went back to the front door, surveying the yard. Nothing seemed out of place. Even though the concussive sounds of gunshots still rang in his ears, they hadn’t drawn a single curious neighbor from their home. Not one eye peeked out from behind closed curtains. Was everyone at work already? He turned back around and closed the door.
Time to check on Julia and release her from the small bathroom he’d locked her in.
He pocketed his weapon. Into his mic, he said, “Ben, what’s your location?”
“Walking back to the house. Lost the suspect. Description of vehicle and partial plate sent to local PD.”
With one foot on the stairs he looked up only to see Julia with a revolver aimed straight at his head.
* * *
Julia sucked in a breath. If only she could stop her heart from beating so fast. Her chest ached.
“Who are you really?” she asked.
Either Eli was who he said he was or he was posing as the good guy to cover his true intentions. His pale blue eyes narrowed at her question; he was clearly contemplating what explanation he could muster to keep her from pulling the trigger.
He kept his hands visible and still. “I am a U.S. Marshal. Eli Cayne. I showed you my identification.”
“I barely got a look at it before someone shot at me.” She squared her shoulders and adjusted the aim of her weapon. This was what she had practiced. What she always prepared for. She had rehearsed this scenario over and over until she hardened her mind to ignore her heart if she really had to kill someone.
“At us.” Eli pointed his thumb to his chest. “I was right here, too. Those bullets could have found me just as easily.”
“A law enforcement ID can be bought.”
He raked his fingers through his chestnut hair before settling a thumb and forefinger on his stubbled chin. “Julia, if I wanted to kill you I would have done it already. Right when you answered the door.”
“You could be working with someone.”
“You’re right. I could. Can you hear those sirens? They’re awfully close. Why would there be help on the way if I was the killer? Did you call them?”
Her shoulders relaxed, and she eased the weapon down a bit. The sincere look in his eyes became more convincing than her resolve to shoot an intruder.
“At some point, you’re going to have to trust that what I’ve said is the truth. I’m here to keep you safe.”
Julia lowered the revolver. “Red daisies?”
“What?”
“Those were the best safe words you could come up with?”
Eli’s relieved smile solidified her impression that he couldn’t truly be nefarious. “I had to think of something on the spot that