Page 3 of Rescuing Sara

“Don’t you dare die on me, Uncle Leo,” Danni whispered, her hands continuing their work, her breathing coming in short, hard bursts. “Not right before Christmas.”

But Lieutenant Leo Anderson lay motionless, his eyes wide and vacant.

Later, after the ER MD declared Leo had died from a heart attack, Danni took a taxi back toExcelsior’sparking lot where she found her car’s windshield broken and a rock on the passenger seat with a note bearing the message,Next time I won’t miss.

So, after retrieving her laptop from the trunk, she called KPD’s Sergeant Grant Miller to report a murder. Then she went inside to talk to Stanley Harris and her friend and fellow reporter Anne Hamilton about Brotherhood Protectors.

CHAPTER 2

Late Tuesday afternoon.

BP Safehouse Knoxville

“It’s ugly, Patrick. Really ugly. But a police officer being murdered always is.”

Lieutenant Patrick Danton, Army Combat Engineers, retired, leaned back in the office chair in front of the long desk and returned the copper-hued gaze of Keith “Mac” McFarlane, retired Marine and fellow Brotherhood Protector. “Are we sure it’s murder?”

“Almost.” Mac stroked his neatly trimmed beard. “After Danni called Grant Miller yesterday, his captain moved mountains to get Lieutenant Leo Anderson’s preliminary autopsy done asap. KPD isn’t about to let one of their own die under suspicious circumstances without starting an investigation. Miller will be BP’s point person again.”

Patrick nodded his approval. Last month, he and KPD’s Sergeant Grant Miller helped fellow BP member Griffith Tyler and senior social worker Elaine Prescott find and rescue a group of teens snatched from their families years ago, including Elaine’s long-lost cousin, Chelsea. That they’d found the kids two buildings down from this one still amazed Patrick. AKnoxville native, Miller was determined to slow if not stop the trafficking of children and teens in East Tennessee.

And after helping Griff and Elaine, so was Patrick.

“If Danni hadn’t found that rock with the note on her car seat, we might still be thinking Anderson died from a heart attack like the ER doc said and not bothered asking for an autopsy,” Mac continued. “Scary business.”

Recalling the report KPD had faxed here this morning of Leo Anderson’s ‘suspicious’ death yesterday, Patrick quoted “‘Next time I won’t miss.’ Sounds deliberate to me. Are we thinking Ms. Blake was the intended target and not Anderson?”

“Again, we’re not sure,” Mac admitted. “Anderson and Danni were looking into what KPD believes is the kidnapping of her young goddaughter, Sara Turner–”

“Wait a minute. Kidnapping a child instead of a teenager?” A burning sensation began deep in Patrick’s bones. “Are we thinking The Cadre is behind this?”

He watched his colleague’s mouth tighten. “Aye,” Mac said, falling into the Scottish brogue that often surfaced when he was angry. “That we are.”

“Sons of bitches,” Patrick muttered. Since early in the year, The Cadre, a crime organization out of Chicago had slowly but surely inserted itself into Knoxville’s underworld, bringing in guns and drugs but focusing mostly on teen trafficking. This was the first time he’d heard of them going after children. “I thought we’d put a major dent in their operations.”

“They’re like a hydra,” Mac described. “Cut off one head and another grows back. I’m beginning to think we’ll never get rid of them.”

“And Ms. Blake and Anderson were doing what exactly?”

“Anderson was with Major Crimes, which usually doesn’t involve kids, but he and Danni’s father were partners years ago, so he volunteered to help in any way he could,” Mac explained.“Danni had started writing a series of articles about child trafficking, especially in East Tennessee forExcelsior. Normally, Anne might be writing something like that, but we were still in Scotland when Danni started the articles, and we just got back three days ago. Anne had to meet all my relatives don’t you know. And there are a lot of them.”

“Did your family on the other side of the pond approve of your fiancée?” Patrick teased.

A contented joy spread over Mac’s features, replacing the anger. “That they did,” he said. “Only problem is where we’re gonna have the wedding.”

“Congratulations.” Patrick leaned forward to shake Mac’s hand. “What else?”

“Both Anderson and Danni had started receiving threatening e-mail messages at work, warning them to stop looking into the matter. The worst of it is, Sara Turner is only ten years old. She got off her school bus the Monday after the Thanksgiving holiday but never made it home.”

Ten. That’s how old Grace is now, wherever her rat bastard father took her. Who says parental kidnapping isn’t just as bad?Patrick coughed back the old rage rising in his throat. “All The Cadre’s other recent victims in East Tennessee–at least those we found–were teenagers,” he recalled. “Wonder why the switch.”

“I don’t know but somehow Sara being a child makes it even worse.” Mac’s expression tightened again. “We’re not sure if Danni was the intended target and the killer missed, but after she found that rock and note in her car, it seems the most likely theory.”

“Does Ms. Blake have any enemies?”

“Except for the occasionally annoyed student in one of her journalism classes, she says none,” Mac said. “Either way, we’re dealing with some very dangerous people who probablywouldn’t care that they accidently killed a highly decorated police officer instead of Danni.”

A near-silent whoosh came from the fax machine in the corner. BP’s Knoxville headquarters had every piece of state-of-the-art equipment a technophile had ever dreamed of owning. Mac crossed the room to take several sheets from the tray. “Good Lord almighty,” he said reverently as he returned to sit at the desk. “Cyanide poisoning is listed as the likely cause of Leo Anderson’s death.”

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