Page 35 of Sadie's Guarded Harbor

“Where’s your bedroom located?” Sadie studied the house. The windows on the ranch level home were all low enough for her to climb into.

“The window is at the back. All the way on the left.”

“What are you thinking, Deputy?” Mike asked.

“From the quick look I got, Mitch is with the kids in the front living room. If the window’s open, I can sneak inside, creep down the hall, and have the element of surprise.”

Mike ran a hand over the back of his neck, gaze darting to the house then back to Sadie. “And what do you plan to do with that surprise?”

“Whatever I have to.”

“Wait,” Brian cut in. “If we think we might need a tactical shooter, we need to call in the SWAT team. We can’t risk the safety of these kids.”

Sadie clenched her jaw. “We don’t have time to spare. I’m here now, and I’m just as good of a shot as anyone else you have.” She stood with shoulders back and chin lifted, daring the deputy to say otherwise.

“Don’t take any unnecessary risks,” the sheriff said. “Get in and out as soon as possible. You are in no way to endanger the lives of those children. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” She grabbed the Glock from her harness and checked the barrel. She was locked, loaded, and ready to go.

With a nod, she jogged toward the back of the house.Please God. Let this stupid window be unlocked.

The doorbanged shut behind Tommy. He stood, taking in the scene—turned over chairs in the kitchen, kids crying in the living room, a hole punched through the drywall in the hallway.

Mitch took steps backward and sank into the recliner with the baby still pressed to his chest. Her ear-piercing wails haddimmed to a quiet whimper. The boy howled in the corner, his back to them.

The wheels in Tommy’s brain raced. How in the world could he get both kids away from their pissed-off father? He took a step forward, his gaze locked on Mitch’s face.

“Not an inch closer.” Mitch dropped a hand to the side of the chair that sat against the wall. He yanked it back up and rested a gun on his lap.

A cold sweat broke out on Tommy’s neck. “There’s no need for that.” He tipped his head, indicating the revolver.

Mitch cocked his head to the side. “That’s up to me. It’s my house. My kids. My fucking decision what there’s a need for. Maybe if I’d been more forceful, clearer of my expectations, my wife would have stayed home where she belonged.”

Licking his lips, Tommy pivoted so he was standing in front of the crying toddler. “You’re not going to hurt your kids. Hell, you’re not going to shoot me, either. Not with a yard full of cops on your lawn.”

Mitch’s gaze flicked to the window then back to Tommy. “It’d serve her right. She thinks she can embarrass me in my town? Run around and spread her legs for some drunk? I’ll make her pay. I’ll take away what she loves most.”

Bile churned in Tommy’s stomach. “You don’t mean that. I understand you’re upset. But you don’t have to take things so far. You don’t want to be with Clara anymore, fine. Kick her out. Leave her. Whatever. But don’t do something we both know you’ll regret.”

A wicked grin split Mitch’s face. “I wouldn’t regret hurting you. You brought this to my doorstep. I couldn’t let it go—had to know what she did to bring you here. It didn’t take much for Curtis to spill everything.”

Tommy silently cursed himself for not betting on Mitch running to his old pal to find out what he knew. He and Sadiehad told Mitch they were speaking with anyone who knew Shawn—that would have included Curtis. “I talked to Curtis. He didn’t tell me Clara was having an affair with Shawn.”

Mitch grunted. “You think he told you everything, Wells? You’re a naïve little dipshit. Running around town like you’re some big bad cop. Everyone knows you aren’t shit. You’re just pretending to be like your asshole dad and brother.”

Tommy fumed, but he couldn’t respond to the taunt.

“My God, shut that kid up.” Mitch kicked out a foot in the direction of his crying son.

“Why don’t you let me take him outside? He’s just in the way. And you have your hands full with the baby.” Tommy held his breath. If he could get one of the children out safely, it’d be easier to concentrate on how to get to the other one.

“You think I’m an idiot?” Mitch barked, making the baby in his arms shudder.

A shimmer of movement caught Tommy’s eye. He didn’t react—didn’t want to clue Mitch into whatever was going on in the hallway. Mitch’s chair was wedged in a corner facing the window, an archway to the hall on one side and the dinning room on the other. He wouldn’t be able to see what was happening anywhere except right in front of him unless he moved.

Tommy chanced a glance toward the hall. Sadie tiptoed through the darkness. She pressed a finger to her lips, and he casually shifted his focus back to Mitch. “What if he goes to his room? He’s what, two, three? He can get back there by himself, and we can keep talking.”

Training his glare on the boy, Mitch twisted his lips. “Get your ass back to your room, Davey. I can’t listen to you anymore.”

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