A Promise to Protect

TWO

Crossing her arms against a chill coming from somewhere deep within, Ashley stared at the note still wedged beneath the wiper blade.

If I don’t get what’s mine, you’ll get what’s yours.

Another line beneath the first gave instructions for returning his property. Put it back where you found it.

The words made her skin crawl as another shiver shot down her spine, causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Her gaze traveled up and down the sidewalk. The chalkboard signs and colorful awnings were the only signs of life, except for Matt, who was marching backward toward the closest alley, his eyes squinting at her hard. “Stay put.”

At any other time, she might have resented being ordered around, but at that moment she was too worried to even notice. Apparently the note and near hit-and-run hadn’t been a fluke. Someone really was after something. Or someone.

And that meant she might need the SEAL’s help to protect her girls. As uncomfortable as she was with the thought of trusting her safety—and especially the safety of the families in her house—to someone else, her discomfort seemed a small price for the specialized protection he could offer.

She pressed her hands to her cheeks and took several deep breaths, her stomach pitching like a canoe in a typhoon. Even with her eyes pinched closed, she could see her windshield, and she clamped them even tighter, trying to dispel the image. Although the picture wouldn’t disappear, she refused to give in to the burning at the back of her eyes, instead letting out a slow breath through clenched teeth as she prayed for something she couldn’t even name.

Peace?

Courage?

Protection?

“There’s no one there.” Matt’s words snatched her from the depths of her own mind. “This must have happened a while ago.” His lips barely moved, but the force of his tone could have blown over the first little pig’s house. She could only be thankful that his ire was directed at the situation and not at her.

“Thanks for checking.”

“We need to report this.”

She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling out her phone. “First I have to call the house and make sure everyone’s okay. That this guy—” she nodded toward her car “—didn’t go there after doing this.” With fingers that shook more than she wanted to admit, she punched in the number to Lil’s Place; the knot in her stomach tightened with each unanswered ring.

The intensity in Matt’s eyes only made her throat thick, so she turned her back on him. Holding her breath on the fifth ring, she prayed someone would pick up. What if the man who’d smashed her windshield and left this note had hurt the women at Lil’s?

No. She wouldn’t let that happen. Not on her watch.

If someone didn’t answer on the next ring, she’d fly—shattered glass and all—back to the house.

“Hello?”

“Meghan?”

“Hi, Ashley.” Was her voice too calm? Her tone overly cool? Was someone there with her, threatening her?

Ashley bit her lip hard, the pain forcing her mind back to the immediate. “Is everything all right at the house?”

“Of course.”

“But it took five rings for you to pick up.”

Meghan chuckled, the bright, cheerful sound an exact replica of her ten-year-old daughter’s laugh. “The girls and I are making cookies, and we had the mixer on. We didn’t hear the phone.”

“And everyone else? Carmen? Benita and Julio?”

“Well, Carmen left this morning with you, but everyone else is in the living room.” Right. Carmen’s interview and testing for the bookkeeping position would last at least another couple of hours, and she had lined up another ride back to Lil’s.

Meghan’s tone dropped, and Ashley could picture her ducking into the hallway away from her two young daughters. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

Ashley let out a slow breath, glancing back at the car and the intimidating man leaning against it. Arms crossed, he leaned on one leg and rested the other foot on top of the opposite ankle, his eyes sweeping the street over and over. When he caught her staring at him, he gave her a quick nod and returned to his watching.

“Yes, yes. Everything’s fine. I’ll be home soon.”

“All right. Bye, then.”

Ashley pressed the button on her phone to end the call and slipped it back into her purse. The hair on her arms was just beginning to fall back into place.

She turned to call to Matt, only to find him already at her side, the offending note gripped between two gloved fingers. “Ready?” He nodded toward the police station across the street and fell into step beside her.

* * *

It took all of Matt’s willpower not to run to the police station and demand to know why they hadn’t done more to protect Ashley and her charges. How could the cops let a car be vandalized right across the street from their station? He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. For all intents and purposes, he was a civilian here with no authority. And the police wouldn’t be willing to work with him if he charged in, taking over the situation.

He could sit back this time. Watch and listen. Any mission was doomed to fail if there wasn’t enough intel. Time for a little recon.

As they entered the fluorescent light of the station, Ashley’s back arched a fraction, her pointed chin sticking out just a little bit farther, and he couldn’t help his smile as she approached the unassuming officer standing behind the counter.

“I’d like to speak with the chief.” Ashley’s voice, completely even and free of any hint of the scare she’d just received, carried to every corner of the room. If the chief was in, he’d heard her.

“I’m sorry.” The officer folded his newspaper and set it on the counter, smoothing it out with a single swipe. “The chief isn’t in right now.”

Ashley leaned in a little more, her eyes unblinking. “Well, then, who can I speak with about my smashed windshield and the threatening note left under my wiper? Perhaps you’re available to take a look at it?”

“Sorry. I’m the only one here, and I can’t leave.” The burly desk sergeant flipped his hand toward the two chairs on the opposite side of the room. “But you can wait here for the chief if you want to.”

Ashley’s shoulders dropped a fraction, but she marched over to the chairs as though this was why she’d come to the station. Matt couldn’t match her nonchalance; his frown was still on display. When they were settled into the seats, he bent toward her. “Is it usually like this?”

“Small town. Small police force.” She never took her gaze from the sergeant—at least, what was visible of the top of his head behind the paper he’d resumed reading. “The chief knows my situation, but he’s still only one guy.”

The police might not be much help. Matt had hoped that they would be halfway to identifying the threat to Ashley by now. But if the local law enforcement wasn’t equipped to do that, it was up to him. Which meant he needed information and a place to start. No time like the present.

“So who do you think tried to run you over last week?”

Taking an audible breath, she sat a little taller in her chair. “Like I said before, we get calls and threats at Lil’s Place. It’s just part of the job. Ex-husbands. Soon-to-be exes. Boyfriends. We’ve heard from them all. But we hadn’t had anything significant for a few weeks before last. Of course, we hadn’t had any new residents for a while up until last week. But there’s something different about these threats.”

“How so?”

She folded her hands in her lap, every inch the calm and collected professional until her knuckles turned white. She squeezed them so hard that the tips of her fingers turned red; she seemed wound tighter than a guitar string. But at least he could help her. He’d do whatever it took to make sure that Ashley—and anyone that she called family—was safe from whatever goon lurked in the shadows. He owed that to Ashley and her mother, who’d welcomed him into their family—and he owed even more to Tristan, who would never forgive him if anything happened to Ashley on his watch.

“Usually we know exactly who the threats are from. Abusive husbands aren’t usually afraid of being recognized.” She glanced into his eyes as she chewed on her lower lip. “These notes are different. They’re so vague. No names. No precise demands. They could be from anyone.”

Matt finally set the note from her windshield down on the table next to his bouncing knee. “And you haven’t seen anyone lurking around your place?”

Instead of answering his question, Ashley jumped up as two men entered the station. “Chief Donal, may I speak with you?”

So this was the missing chief.

“Hello, there, Miss Sawyer.” As he turned back to his companion, his sport coat pulled tight against his round belly, and he unbuttoned the jacket. “I’ll see you for lunch tomorrow, Jimmy. Same time?”

Jimmy nodded and waved, but not before tipping his nonexistent hat at Ashley. He didn’t bother with more than a glance in Matt’s direction before disappearing out the door. Matt didn’t like a guy who didn’t at least acknowledge another man, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it as he gave the police chief his full attention.

“Well, well. Miss Sawyer. Twice in one week? What have I done to deserve such a treat? And you’ve brought a friend.” Donal stuck his hand out. “Albert Donal, police chief.”

Matt stood slowly, careful not to favor his injured leg. It wouldn’t do to have anyone thinking he wasn’t up to his assignment. He squeezed the other man’s hand just hard enough to let the chief know he wasn’t dealing with a pushover. “Senior Chief Matt Waterstone.”

Donal pulled his hand back, nodding. “A navy man.”

Ashley clearly had no time for formalities; she stepped directly in front of the older man. “Someone smashed in my windshield and left me another note.”

Using a gloved hand to make sure he didn’t leave fingerprints on the note, Matt held it out to the chief.

Donal’s eyes narrowed, and he ushered them into his office. He produced an evidence bag and slipped the scrap of paper inside.

When he had settled into the leather chair behind his wide desk, the police chief studied the paper. “Where’d the note come from?” He didn’t tear his gaze from the message, as though studying it would reveal some sort of hidden meaning.

“It was under my windshield wiper.”

Donal glanced up then, surprise crossing his features. “Sit down. Please.”

They accepted the offer, both leaning toward the chief.

“Did you see who left this or what smashed your windshield?”

Matt looked at Ashley, but she didn’t wait for him before diving in. “We were running a few errands—to Puckett’s Pharmacy and Jenni’s shop—and when we came back, someone had smashed it and left the note.”

“Whoa, there.” Donal held up both hands. “We don’t know that the same person who wrote the note also smashed your windshield. For that matter, we don’t know that the broken windshield wasn’t an accident of some sort. We have had an increase in vandalism since the layoffs at the plant. It might even just be kids playing a prank.”

“You think this is kids?” Matt couldn’t keep the astonishment out of his voice. “Kids didn’t leave that note. And what are the chances that someone would leave a note for Ashley and someone else would randomly vandalize her car all on the same day? That’s some coincidence, don’t you think?”

The chief looked directly into his eyes, something the older man hadn’t done so far. “I hear what you’re saying, but this note isn’t much to go on. I can’t assume anything without real evidence.” He looked sincere, as though he wished he had different news. “In and of itself, this note wouldn’t even hold up in court.”

Ashley’s nose wrinkled at this bit of news. “So you’re saying that that—” she swung her finger toward the plastic bag still in Donal’s hand “—isn’t dangerous enough? Someone who’s willing to use violence to make a point could be after one of my girls, and this isn’t enough of a threat?”

“That’s right.” He held it out to her, so that both Matt and Ashley could read the words typed there.

Not that Matt needed another look. Those words had been seared into his memory from the moment he read them. He didn’t see how they could be read as anything other than intimidation toward Ashley and someone else at Lil’s Place.

The chief continued, “Yes, it could be construed as threatening. But it could also just be a reminder that someone wants his lawnmower back.”

“I have my own lawnmower.”

“That’s not the point. It could be anything that’s been borrowed from a neighbor.” Donal ran his hand over his grease-slicked hair. “The point is, the burden of proof on these things is on us. Even if we figured out who was behind this, the newest lawyer in the public defender’s office could get the writer of either of your notes free. And because there’s nothing here that confirms violent intent, my hands are tied.”

Ashley opened her mouth to speak, but Matt cut her off with a hand on her shoulder. “Will you at least look into it? Check for fingerprints?”

“Absolutely.” The round man heaved himself from his burgundy leather chair, his stance a silent invitation for them to leave. “Tell you what. I’ll ask my guy Frank to drive past Lil’s Place a few times a day and keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

Matt stood, reaching for Ashley’s elbow, but she beat him out of her chair, offering her hand and a half smile to the chief. “I’d appreciate anything you can do.”

Before either of them could say something else, Donal looked hard at them. “Let my guys do their jobs. Don’t get in our way. We’ll handle this.”

Matt bit the inside of his cheek and forced a smile. “Thank you, Chief.”

They weren’t going to get any more of a commitment from the police force than that, and it would only hurt Ashley’s case to be at odds with them.

As they stepped back into the afternoon sunshine, Ashley shot him a glance through narrowed eyes, her nose wrinkled and lips pursed. “What do you think?”

He shot her a smile. “I think we’re going to have to fly under the radar.”

“What does that mean?” But the flash of her grin told him she already knew.

“Someone thinks they only have to contend with the Charity Way Police Department. They’re in for a nasty surprise.”

Ashley frowned. “What if Chief Donal is right? I mean, this all could just be a misunderstanding.”

Of course she’d say something like that. She wanted a fight with an unknown threat about as much as she wanted that shattered windshield. But wanting the fight and getting it anyway were two different things.

“Are you willing to take a chance like that—not just for yourself, but for the families at the shelter?” He was manipulating her, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. She might take chances with her own safety, but she’d never risk anyone at Lil’s Place. The only way to keep her safe was to remind her that she wasn’t the only one at risk.

“You’re right,” she said with a sigh. “We’ll do things your way—for now.” Matt noted the clear warning in her glare but chose not to respond. He couldn’t argue with her, not when he needed her cooperation. Her knowledge was his only chance at identifying the threat. This wasn’t his usual assignment—he had no mission parameters, no assigned and carefully researched target, no backup from his team.

And with Ashley at stake, there was absolutely no room for failure.

THREE

Ashley blinked against the sun reflecting off the spiderweb of her windshield, hands on the wheel and chin on her chest. Who would do such a thing? And why? Abuse usually took place behind closed doors, when there was no one around to witness it. Abusers were very, very good at protecting themselves from the consequences of their violence. An open attack like this seemed so strange, so out of character. And that made her nervous. If her attacker was willing to go this far, what would he do next?

She rolled her window down as Matt leaned a forearm on the roof of the car, towering over her little coupe.

“Do you want to leave the car here and call a tow truck? I can drive you back to your place.”

She managed to offer him a slightly off-center smile. “I’m okay. I won’t run anyone over. I promise. The glass place is right around the corner.” And there was no way she could afford to pay for a tow truck either. But he didn’t need to know that.

“You sure? You’ll be driving right into the sun. It could be kind of hard to see. Would you rather drive my truck?”

She glanced down the street at the SEAL-approved vehicle of choice. The truck was tall enough to accommodate his long legs, but not so big that it drew undo attention.

Besides, she didn’t need him to hold her hand in this. She’d accept his help safeguarding Lil’s Place—he was much better qualified in that arena. But driving her car a couple of blocks wasn’t a mission only a SEAL could do. He was capable, but so was she. “That’s all right. I’d rather drive mine.”

“Fair enough.”

Why did his words sound just the opposite?

“I’m fine. Really.”

“If you’re sure.” She nodded. “Okay. I’ll follow you over there, and then take you home.”

“Thanks. I appreciate the ride.”

“I won’t leave you stranded.” There was something deeper to his words, like he was going to give her more than a ride. Like he was promising to see her through this whole ordeal.

Even if she didn’t need it. She’d been just fine on her own for the last three years.

She glanced up just in time to catch Matt’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he walked behind her car toward his truck. He favored his left leg ever so slightly, his gait just a bit off, but despite his uneven stride, he was in his truck and pulling out of his parking spot—leaving room for her to pull out in front of him—before she’d even turned her car on.

* * *

As she pulled into the empty street, the cracks turned her windshield into a kaleidoscope, which proved harder to see through than she had anticipated. She fought to stay between the barely visible lane lines.

“Just keep going straight.” She repeated the mantra several times before another driver blasted his horn at her for crossing the middle line. She swerved back into her own lane, drawing dangerously close to a car parked along

the curb.

Her breathing picked up speed to match her pulse until she pulled into the gravel parking lot of the glass-repair shop.

True to his word, Matt came in right behind her, parking beside her coupe as she ducked into the front office.

Ten minutes later she hurried up to Matt’s truck, clutching her purse. Getting up to the seat could have been part of a training regimen to climb Everest.

“Need a hand?” Matt turned to open his own door, but she clawed at the bench seat until she gained enough of a grip to scramble all the way up.

“Nope. I’ve got it.”

He nodded, slamming his door closed at the same time she settled into her seat, hands clasped in her lap.

“Where to?”

She directed him toward Lil’s Place and settled in. The heater kicked out lukewarm air, taking the chill out of the Northern California winter afternoon. She rubbed her hands together and held them in front of the vents.

“What did they say?”

She sighed. “They’re closed tomorrow, and they have a backlog. So it’ll take at least a couple days. They said they hope it’ll be done by Saturday morning.”

He frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. “That seems like a long time for you to be without a car. I’m not sure it’s safe for you not to have one.”

“Maybe that was his plan.” She said the words without really thinking, but they rang true.

The truck rumbled along, filling the silence, and she knew he recognized the truth of it as well. “I’ll be in town for a while. I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”

She smiled, really looking at him for the first time since she’d run into him that morning. His jacket hung open, and his snug T-shirt revealed that the man didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, despite his injury. The loose curls on top of his head that might have made another man look boyish, just made Matt look like the statues of Greek gods she’d studied in art history.

His presence was reassuring at the least. And strangely familiar, even if she hadn’t seen him for more than four years. Matt had accompanied Tristan home for Christmas that year, and, at barely twenty, she’d had a bit of a crush on him. That was before Paul had come into her life.

She’d never been sure if Matt had been aware of her feelings for him back then. Of course, when they started, she’d been just sixteen. That had been more schoolgirl crush than full-on attraction. With time, and increased maturity, her feelings had grown. But Matt had either never realized or never acknowledged her interest in him. In the handful of times he’d visited their home during her senior year of high school, he’d teased her just like Tristan. Just one of the family.

She’d never told her mom—let alone Tristan—how much she liked Matt back then.

And then Paul happened.

So exciting at first. Rappelling and midnight swimming in the lake. He drove fast and broke the rules, ditched class and stayed up all night talking with her.

Despite Tristan’s warnings that Paul might not be everything he seemed, she’d fallen for him. Hard.

Just as hard as his fist the first time he had hit her.

She hadn’t thought romantically about any man since Paul. Not Matt or anyone else.

But now that Matt was here, sitting next to her and filling the cab more than he should have, her mind wandered to the past and dug up memories that had no place in her current situation.

In the edge of her line of sight, he twisted, rubbing his calf. She’d never seen him fidget before, but every time she ventured a glance in his direction, he shifted, turning his body toward her, but his leg away.

“Your leg bothering you?”

“Not really.”

“I thought they taught you to be better liars in SEAL training.”

This whipped his gaze in her direction, and it landed heavily on her face. But a quick glance his way revealed an accompanying grin. It was lopsided and immensely endearing, despite her desire to think of him as nothing more than an extra set of hands to protect her charges.

“So what’s for dinner at Lil’s tonight?”

Ashley shot him a pointed look, and the corners of his mouth arched into an even wider smile, forming almost-dimples to his jawline. He was far too charming for his own good. It was distracting, which would have been dangerous enough at any time. Just now, when she needed all of her wits about her, it could be disastrous. Was it really safer for everyone involved—especially her—to let him help with this situation?

“I’m not sure. Why?”

“Thought you might invite me to join you.”

“Whoa.” She held up her hands. “That’s a bad idea. Very bad idea.”

“Why’s that?”

She studied the small black purse in her hands, turning it over several times, hoping it would give her the right words. “It’s just that the women at Lil’s have had hard lives, been treated horribly by the men they trusted. I try not to bring guys into the house unless absolutely necessary.”

“Don’t you think this might be absolutely necessary?”

“What? Feeding you dinner?”

He pulled up to a red light and turned his head to look into her eyes. She blinked twice but forced herself to maintain eye contact. “Listen, Ashley, you don’t have to act like this with me.” She almost asked what he meant, but she already knew. “You’re in trouble. You and the girls at Lil’s. Until this letter-writing lunatic is caught, someone needs to watch your back. And your brother asked me for a favor. We’ve been watching out for each other since day one of BUD/S, and I’m not going to let him down. He’s the only family I’ve got.”

She already knew that Tristan and Matt had met on the first day of BUD/S—Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training. But how did Matt not have any other family? He’d visited their home for years, but he’d never really talked about his own background. Tristan had always been the talker, and early on, he’d told her not to grill Matt about why he wasn’t going home for the holidays. She hadn’t cared, really. She had just wanted Matt to keep coming back to the house. But had he really never mentioned his family?

Before she could ask, Matt leaned toward her, his face drawing nearer to hers, setting her heart thumping painfully. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and nostrils flaring slightly as he let it out. “That makes you family, too. So I’m going to be in Charity Way until I’m certain that you’re absolutely safe.”

His tone brooked no argument, but a second later, the fierce intensity gave way to the serene calm she expected from him. He turned his eyes back to the road and pressed the accelerator. “It’s just dinner. I promise not to scare anyone.”

Didn’t he realize he was already scaring her?

She’d already relied on him more than she had any man since Paul, letting him make her feel safe just by standing next to her. She already hated the thought of him leaving, the thought of losing his steadying presence in the midst of something she couldn’t explain or understand.

And for someone with her history, that was the scariest thought of all.

* * *

Apparently Matt had said the right thing.

Ashley nodded but changed the subject, diving into the discussion of possible threats. “The notes have to be connected to one of the women at Lil’s Place.” Ashley’s teeth found her lower lip, chewing away. “They refer to someone’s property. That’s got to be one of the women.”

“Probably. But just for the sake of argument, could it be personal against you, since the house hasn’t been targeted yet? Have you had any personal arguments or disagreements with anyone lately?”

“Of course not. I’m far too sweet for that.”

He shot her a raised eyebrow.

Ashley laughed behind her hand. “Fine. But I’m not usually one to pick a fight. Besides, I’m usually busy taking care of things at the house, so outside of running errands and going to church, I’m hardly ever in town.”

“So you haven’t had any run-ins with anyone in the last month or so?”

“Most people in this town leave me and Lil’s Place alone. We’ve had a few vocal citizens who think we should stay out of other people’s business. But they’re pretty few and far between. We have a couple regular volunteers, and Chief Donal notes all of my concerns, but other than that, we’re a quiet house on a block with a bunch of other quiet houses.”

“What about friends? People at church? Has anyone seemed strange lately?”

She pursed her lips to the side, her nose wrinkling as she thought out loud. “Well, Miranda’s been a bit more scatterbrained than usual.”

“Who’s Miranda?”

“She’s a volunteer and a friend of mine.” Ashley’s head swiveled to watch a green station wagon roll past them before continuing. “She missed two volunteer kitchen shifts last week, but she said that work has been crazy lately. The tire plant had layoffs and she works in human resources there.”

“What about a boyfriend? Are you seeing anyone?”

She wanted to tell him it was none of his business. It was written all over her face. But she wrapped her arms around her stomach instead. “Nothing serious.”

She wasn’t telling the whole truth. He could read that like a book, too. And for some reason, being questioned about a boyfriend made her uncomfortable. Bad breakup? No, she’d admit to that—she wouldn’t hold back if there was a chance her ex was involved. So what was the problem?

He wanted to question her further, but she seemed so tense that he decided to let it drop. For now.

Swallowing back his questions and pushing all thoughts of Ashley’s love life out of his mind, he navigated their conversation back on course. “So if it is related to one of the women at the house, who do you think it might be?”

“That’s the problem—I think it might be related to a girl who’s not in the house anymore. She’s the only one whose background is a mystery.”

“She wouldn’t tell you?”

“She wouldn’t say much more than her name—Joy. And she promised she was eighteen, but she looked like she was barely sixteen.” Lines appeared on Ashley’s face, making her look much older than her years. She couldn’t be much more than twenty-five, but the pain in her eyes added at least ten years.

“How did she end up at Lil’s?”

Ashley motioned to the next street, indicating that he should turn there. And just as she’d said, it was a street of ordinary two-story houses all with white porches and the occasional porch swing. All they needed were white picket fences to complete his childhood daydream of the perfect home.

“Miranda brought her about a week ago. She said she didn’t know the girl very well, but she knew Joy needed help.”

Ashley pointed at a yellow house, and he pulled into an open spot at the curb adjacent to the green lawn.

“It must have been bad,” she continued.

He turned the key in the ignition, twisting toward her. “What?”

Ashley turned toward the house and opened the door before responding. “Whatever Joy went through. Whoever she’s running from did a number on her, and she wouldn’t talk about it. At all.”

He hurried around the hood of the truck, heat still rising from it, to meet her at the foot of the path leading up to the front steps.

After several seconds of silence, he held out his hand, motioning her to take the lead, but she shook her head. “We need to figure out what we’re going to tell everyone.”

Matt frowned. “Tell them about what?”

“About why you’re here.”

Matt still didn’t follow. His confusion must have been clear on his face, because Ashley continued, “The women inside that house trust me to keep them safe. I can’t just bring a strange—” her eyes dropped to his tennis shoes then moved all the way back up to the top of his hair “—man into their haven.”