Credible Threat. Heather Woodhaven

       TWO

      Rebecca wanted nothing more than to turn her thoughts off, but if she stopped obsessing over the attack, she feared she’d forget some crucial detail. As soon as she got back to Grandpa’s place, she wanted some time alone on her laptop. Typing every single detail she remembered would allow her to get it off her mind and finally relax. At least, as much as she could unwind with two marshals guarding her.

      She pulled her unruly hair back into a loose braid and secured it with a rubber band a nurse offered her. It embarrassed her a little bit to leave the hospital in a business suit, but her grandfather had grabbed the first thing he’d seen from her suitcase. He had already left with a policeman who would meet a deputy marshal from Boise in McCall to take over his protective detail. If her father knew she had been assigned her own protective detail, he’d lose his mind with worry, but she couldn’t deal with that yet.

      Rebecca stepped out of the bathroom. Kurt faced the door. His thick brown hair was slightly lighter than hers, and she wondered if it was natural or from so much time outside. His skin, slightly tanned, seemed to indicate the latter. He leaned against the wall as he made notes on his tablet. His dress shirt was a bit strained at the center of his back. She knew from the way her brother complained that it was hard to find athletic fits of dress clothes.

      The marshal was much bigger, much stronger, than her first glance had led her to believe. Guys like him probably spent all their free time in a gym. She couldn’t help but wonder if he would win a one-on-one fight against her attacker. Her attacker hadn’t looked as fit or seemed as strong as the marshal, but she shivered at the memory of the cold, calculated way he’d stared at her when she’d screamed for him to get away.

      Kurt swiveled. His kind brown eyes searched her face. “Hey, are you okay?” He placed a steadying hand on her arm and his heat was enough to make her forget it was chilly. “You’ve gone pale. I can call the doctor.”

      She blinked. “I’m fine. I was lost in thought, wondering why he let me get away.”

      He stepped back and tilted his head. “Get away?”

      She fidgeted with the edge of her suit jacket, curling it—a habit she couldn’t seem to break—and fought to ground herself in the present moment. “I’d like to think I got away because I did the right things, but...” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “The more I think about it, he probably could’ve caught up to me. Why didn’t he?”

      Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “Ma’am, you did do the right things. You fought back, you ran and you tried to get help.”

      “You can call me Rebecca.” She turned her attention to the tiled floor. And while she appreciated his comforting words, it didn’t diminish her newfound fear. Her job required lots of travel. As a single woman, she took precautions and remained observant, but if she started to jump at her own shadow, she wouldn’t be able to cope.

      His feet shifted as if uncomfortable. “You’ve met my fellow marshal, Delaney Patton. She and the police have secured your grandfather’s house. I’ll take you back there now, if you’re ready.”

      She looked around the room but realized she had no personal effects. If Grandpa hadn’t brought her shoes, she wouldn’t even have that.

      They walked to the elevator and parking lot in silence until they reached a massive white pickup.

      He exhaled. “I wasn’t expecting...uh... We should have an official sedan available in a day or so. I hope you don’t mind riding in this today.”

      “No, I don’t care a bit.”

      He opened the door for her and offered his hand. She almost refused it except her head still hurt and it was quite a big step up into the seat. The moment her fingers touched his palm, her stomach flipped. He jerked his hand back as if she’d shocked him with static electricity. She elected to use the inside door handle to help her into the cab instead and he kept his sights on their surroundings, constantly swiveling his head until he closed the door behind her.

      When she’d first met him, he’d seemed more friendly and approachable, but maybe she’d misjudged. As he slid into the driver’s seat she asked, “So have you been a deputy marshal a long time?” He nodded but said nothing.

      “Enjoy your work?”

      Another nod.

      Well, he wasn’t going to help her keep her mind off the attack at this rate. She leaned back into the seat as he cranked the car’s ignition. Music blared through the speakers. She flinched at the sound of violins feverishly accelerating through the measures.

      “Sorry.” The marshal swiftly turned down the volume. “I wasn’t expecting a passenger.”

      “What was that?” she asked with emphasis on each word.

      “An orchestral arrangement of ‘Toccata and Fugue in D Minor’ by Bach.”

      She felt her eyes widen. The idea of a buff marshal driving a beefed-up truck with classical music booming cracked her up. “I didn’t mean the song title...” She gestured at the speakers inside the truck.

      His lips curved to the side. “You were expecting country?”

      “I don’t know, maybe.” She looked at his profile. “More like hard rock.”

      He shrugged. “I rock out...to classical music.” A small smile crept up and threatened to melt her knees as he glanced at her before backing out of the parking lot. “The instrumental music keeps my head clear. It helps my focus.”

      He squeezed the steering wheel and frowned as if surprised he’d just admitted as much to her. “We’d better get you to safety.” He reached in the back seat with one arm and handed her a ball cap with the Marshals star logo in the center. “Wear this and keep your head down.”

      The solemn reality of her situation came crashing down. She followed his directions and slouched in the seat. The conversational, encouraging man disappeared once again. Her first impression must’ve been completely wrong. The man was all business. Until they found her attacker it would be like hanging out with a brick wall. All the more motivation to figure out who the intruder was and to get him behind bars so she could go back to living her life.

      Five silent minutes passed before he pulled into Grandpa’s driveway. Two police officers on either side of the entrance waved them forward. The garage opened to reveal Delaney inside, standing next to the controls and connecting door. She, at least, offered a welcoming smile.

      Rebecca reached for the door handle.

      “Stay in the vehicle until the garage is secure,” Kurt said. He watched the rearview mirror until they were enclosed.

      Delaney walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger door. “I’m sure you’re ready to rest,” she said.

      “Did you find anything off the letter opener?”

      “I’m afraid we haven’t found it at all yet.”

      Everything looked different inside the house. All the blinds had been pulled down on the floor-to-ceiling windows. The soothing view of the mountains and the lake had been replaced with a kitchen counter full of walkie-talkies and other contraptions Rebecca didn’t recognize.

      “I’ve arranged for the police to take shifts on the perimeter of the property. Judge Linn’s assistant has been gathering any cases she thinks worthy of note, aside from our own log of threats.” Delaney tapped her phone with each sentence as if checking off a list as she spoke to Kurt.

      “How