Christmas Conspiracy. Susan Sleeman
least he knew Brady had been wrong in the truck. They weren’t too late, and Ms. Long was alive.
Now Jake needed to make sure she stayed that way.
Jake charged to the door, his chest aching like crazy, but with lives on the line, his pain didn’t matter. Finding the baby was what mattered now. He moved forward, caution in his steps, and scanned the playground. Mulch crunched under his feet near the pint-size playground structure, and the gate ahead swung in the breeze.
He wanted to burst through the opening, but that would be foolhardy, so he paused and swept the area. A larger playground in the distance held a tall play structure with a thick layer of mulch in the fall zone. A six-foot fence surrounded the area and Brady, rifle slung over his shoulder, scaled the fence boards.
“Report,” Jake said into his mic.
Brady didn’t lose a beat at the command but hurled over the top. “Kidnapper went over the fence here. Couldn’t take the baby.”
Jake looked down and spotted the carrier sitting near the fence. The child squirmed and kicked her little feet. He let out a heavy sigh.
“Continue foot pursuit,” Jake commanded. “I’ve got the baby.”
He crossed the playground and directed his voice at his mic. “Cash, call in backup to track this guy, and get some uniforms on scene to set up a perimeter. We’ll need a detective dispatched. Skyler has the best closure rate of county detectives, and I suspect she’ll be assigned to the investigation, but give her a call so she has a heads-up and can ask to work the case.”
“Roger that,” Cash replied, and Jake knew he would immediately phone their teammate.
When not working as a negotiator on the FRS, Skyler served as a Special Investigations Unit detective, and since this case involved a young child, Jake wanted the best investigator on the job.
He crossed the yard and bent over to pick up the carrier. His chest screamed in agony. Of course. His adrenaline was subsiding, and the pain from the deputy’s shots would grow by the minute.
The baby blinked her lashes at him, her eyes wide and interested when he’d expected tears. Some babies were good-natured, and nothing riled them. His little sister had been like that. All giggles and smiles, all the time. That could be true of this child.
Her smile widened into a toothless grin, and his pain receded. His team had done a good thing today. They’d successfully stopped the abduction of this little princess. That felt good. Real good.
She suddenly frowned and narrowed her tiny blue eyes, then screwed up her face like a wrinkled prune and started to whimper.
“Shh.” He gently shook the carrier, mimicking motions he remembered from helping care for his brother and sister. “It’s okay. You’re safe, Kelly. At least that’s what the director said your name was.”
She didn’t settle but wailed in earnest, flailing her arms and legs in her pink snowsuit. Jake stopped and stared at her for a long moment.
What in the world was he supposed to do with a crying baby?
He commanded an emergency response team, leading them into some of the most volatile and dangerous situations law enforcement deputies could encounter, but a baby, let alone one whose cry gave emergency sirens a run for their money, brought more fear to his heart than the toughest spots he’d been in.
He hadn’t had any experience with babies since he’d lost both of his siblings when he was a mere kid himself, but he figured she wanted to be held. Or changed. Once they got inside, he’d hold her. But the other? No way. He wasn’t about to attempt that.
To comfort her, he gently swung the carrier as he walked, each swing like a knife to his chest, but the motion served to slow the crying to a whimper. Inside, he found the director still unconscious on the floor. He hurried over to her, set down the carrier and knelt next to her. He released the carrier to lay two fingers on her wrist. Her pulse beat hard but her breathing seemed shallow.
“So, Rachael Long,” he mumbled. “What did the guy inject you with?”
He wished Darcie Stevens, the team medic, had been with them. She possessed the training needed to enter a volatile situation and would already be tending to the director. Other medics didn’t have such skills. They were required to wait until the suspect no longer posed a threat to their safety before treating Ms. Long.
Jake adjusted his mic. “Are there medics standing by, Cash?”
“Affirmative.”
“Send them in as soon as you’re sure it’s safe.” Jake rocked the carrier as he looked at Rachael.
The heater kicked in, sending a whiff of her sweet perfume wrapping around him and temporarily overpowering the antiseptic odor of bleach permeating the air. About five-five, she was small compared to his six-foot-two frame. She appeared fit, had curling, shoulder-length hair and freckles peppered high cheeks. She seemed sweet, almost innocent. Exactly what he’d expect of a child care director.
She wore a wedding ring, but preliminary information gathered as the team raced toward the scene told him she’d lost her husband in a car crash about four years ago, and she hadn’t remarried.
Now she lay there. Near death? He wanted to do something to help.
He jumped to his feet and retrieved a few child-sized blankets from the cribs. He returned to cover her, then turned his attention to Kelly, whose cries had escalated. He ripped off his tactical gloves and took off his helmet, figuring it might be scaring her. Then he released her restraints and lifted her into his arms. The steel plates of his vest weren’t likely comfortable, so he lowered her and held her slightly away from his body while he rocked back and forth.
“Shh,” he whispered and listened to the chatter on his comms unit to keep updated on the chase.
The kidnapper had disappeared from Brady’s view, so Cash had called in a search dog. Jake didn’t get his hopes up, though. Since most properties were fenced in the city, and dogs often lost the scent at fence lines, odds were against them in locating the kidnapper.
Jake continued to listen while rocking the baby until she settled down and drifted to sleep. The front door opened, and the sound of gurney wheels finally echoed down the hallway.
Two men entered. The thin guy who stepped in first wore a Santa hat. The other guy was bald and tough-looking, and Jake suspected he’d never worn a Santa hat in his life.
Jake stepped back to give them access to Rachael. “You up to speed on the incident?”
The guy with the hat knelt on the floor next to Rachael. “The woman was injected with something and is unconscious but breathing.”
“Exactly,” Jake replied.
“Dog has lost the scent,” Brady said over Jake’s earbuds, then reported his exact location.
“Widen the perimeter and stand ready,” Jake replied. “We’ll have to hope 911 receives a call reporting the kidnapper’s movements.”
And hope he doesn’t harm anyone as he makes his escape.
“Roger that.” Disappointment lingered in Brady’s tone.
Suddenly weary beyond his thirty-five years, Jake ran a hand over tense muscles in his neck and watched the medics do their thing. Once they had an IV going, they loaded Rachael onto the gurney.
An overwhelming desire to protect her and Kelly from additional harm rose up and caught him off guard. He worked each callout with the thought that he would do everything he could so he didn’t have to live with regret, but he’d never taken a personal interest in the people he rescued.
Until right now. But why?
Could