Page 15 of Rescuing Sara

“I don’t know,” Danni said, releasing a long sigh. “But my dad always said, ‘there are no coincidences.’ Two men who both work at La Belle Monde living on the same street where one has a missing granddaughter and one who has a wife who saw that granddaughter willingly get into car? What are the odds of that?”

“It’s a wealthy part of town, isn’t it?” Patrick asked. “Lots of Belle Monde’s upper-level employees might live in a five-block radius just like there could be a lot of doctors and lawyers and other high-income types living there as well.”

“You don’t think it’s a coincidence?”

“Let’s just say I’m playing what my sister called the DA.”

“District attorney?” The cold wind was adding a pleasing color to Danni’s cheeks and making her curls dance around her shoulders.

“Devil’s advocate,” Patrick corrected. “Arguing the other side to see all possibilities. Eliminate the impossible to leave the probable and all that.”

Curiosity brightened her eyes. “You have a sister?” she asked.

“I did,” Patrick said, clipping off the words. “And right now, I think there’s a good possibility we’ll freeze to death if–”

“Lieutenant Patrick Dalton?”

They turned to see a slender, black-haired man of medium height exiting what looked like an old black-and-white police cruiser without any identifying marks on the doors.

“That would be me,” Patrick acknowledged, and the man closed the car door, locked it and came forward.

“Sergeant Kristopher Brower, US Army, retired,” he said, holding out his hand. “Hank Patterson sent me.”

“Good to have you on board, Brower,” Patrick greeted. He pointed at Danni and said, “This is Danni Blake, our assignment.”

“Ma’am.” Kristopher Brower nodded at her. Then his gaze widened as it took in Patrick’s battered and bandaged face but whatever he was thinking, he kept to himself.

“Is that your car?” Danni pointed at the black and white vehicle. “Is it what I think it is?”

“Yes ma’am,” Kristopher said politely. “My cop grandfather bought it at a police auction to give to me for high school graduation but only after the identifying markers were taken off the doors. Lots of miles on the old girl but she drives like a top. It was in storage when I was overseas with the Army and I’m hoping to add some miles of my own. I hope you don’t mind riding in it?”

His courtly manner made Danni smile, but beside her, Patrick shifted impatiently. “It’s been a freaky kind of day, Brower, and Danni doesn’t need to be standing out in the open, even if we are in front of the precinct.” He gestured at his forehead and added, “We left my car at the church for obvious reasons.”

Kristopher’s pleasantly neutral expression shifted to one of serious concern. “Absolutely,” he said. “Not good to drive after a thump on the head. Come with me. I had it outfitted for safety, so no worries about us not getting us anywhere in one piece.”

“Do you know where the Safehouse is?” Patrick asked as they followed Kristopher to the black and white.

“Already been there to stow my gear and have directions back on my phone.” Kristopher unlocked the doors for them. When they were inside, he looked at them in the rear-view mirror. “Nooffense, Lieutenant, but you look like hell,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?”

“It’s Patrick, Kristopher.” Pain pounding behind his eyes, Patrick shut them and said, “Just take us back to St. Nicholas, okay?”

“Right you are,” Kristopher agreed, starting the engine. Its whispering purr was barely audible as he pulled away from the curb and headed back to the church. Patrick settled back, feeling the engine’s hum through the seats as exhaustion settled into his bones. Beside him, Danni was still, and he was grateful for that. He’d done a piss-poor job of taking care of her today. If he’d insisted that she not stop to buy flowers, that vendor never would have had the chance to try to kill her.

Because killing Danni was exactly what that bastard had tried to do. To hell with his own injury.

And damn, if he hadn’t let it slip that he’d had a sister once. Bringing up his personal life and his long-gone niece was not something he needed or wanted to do. Danni had enough to worry about and he had enough to do with keeping her safe.

But as they reached St. Nicholas, and approached Patrick’s LTD, he let out a bellow of rage. They’d barely come to a stop when he was out of Kristopher’s vehicle and dashing to his own.

“Good Lord,” Danni whispered, coming to stand beside him. Behind them, Kristopher let out a long, low whistle. Someone had smashed out all the LTD’s windows, littering the street with shards and chunks of glass. Inside, the seats were slashed and they, along with the floor mats, were covered in bright red paint.

“Wow,” Danni finally said. “Guess we should have let Grant Miller have one of his colleagues drive us back here after all.”

CHAPTER 6

The Safehouselater that night

“What happened to his face?” Kristopher asked as they watched Patrick stride down the hall to his room.

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