Page 78 of Colton Family Bodyguard (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

“Where is the kid?” the man asked. He wore sunglasses and a beanie hat over longish brown hair. Around six feet tall and of average build, he had the appearance of a regular guy. No tattoos that Callum could see. Clean-shaven. Just as Evie had described to the sketch artist.

“I won’t ask you again,” the killer said. “Where is the kid?”

Callum had his hand on the door handle. He lifted his other, palm facing the man, more to distract him. “Just calm down.”

At the same time that he opened the car door as fast and hard as he could, he karate chopped the man’s wrist, knocking his aim off.

The gun fired into the air as the man fell backward.

Callum propelled himself out of the car as the other man rose to his feet. Swinging his foot, Callum kicked the gun from the man’s grip, sending it flying into the road. He began to draw his pistol but the other man produced a second gun he had tucked into his boot. Callum ducked behind the open car door in time before bullets struck the side.

Callum fired back when he could, seeing the killer limping from the wound Kerry had inflicted toward the SUV. He shot and missed.

The killer raced off in his SUV, another failed attempt to shoot them.

Looking into the truck, he saw Hazel crouched low, eyes big and dark and round with fear.

“He asked where Evie was,” she said.

Neither of them had to ask why. The killer wanted both Hazel and Evie dead. The little girl would be a witness to testify in a trial, if it ever came to that. A familiar wave of dread washed through him. What would become of Hazel and Evie?

Chapter 13

A few days later, Callum thought that Nancy Hersh should be back from her trip to Europe with her husband by now. Callum had told Hazel it would be good for them to be out of Mustang Valley. He was anxious to work more on finding out who shot his father and hopefully proving Ace didn’t.

Once again, they stood at Nan’s front door and this time she answered. Round faced with short hair dyed blond, she wore visible hearing aids.

“Nancy Hersh?” he asked.

“Yes?” She looked from him to Hazel and back to him. Then she snapped, “I have a No Soliciting sign on my door.”

“We’re not selling anything. We’re trying to track down someone whose last known whereabouts was at Mustang Valley General Hospital forty years ago.”

“My gosh, that’s a long time ago.”

“Did you go by the name Nan Gelman back then?”

He must want to be sure she was the maternity nurse who worked at the hospital the day of Ace’s birth.

“Yes. Nan was a stupid nickname. I don’t go by that anymore. People call me by my given name, Nancy. I haven’t been Gelman in a very long time. Divorced twice before I met my now-husband.”

“So you did work at the hospital?” Hazel asked.

“Yes. I did. I worked on the maternity ward.”

“Did you work Christmas Day forty years ago?”

Nancy rolled her eyes irritably. “Yes. In fact, that day forty years ago sticks out like a sore thumb.” She told them the year. “For one, a fire broke out that morning and destroyed the nursery records and nurses’ station. Also, my rotten supervisor wouldn’t give me the day off. I had to work Christmas Eve night and Christmas Day morning. I couldn’t stand working for her. She had all the holidays off. Talk about narcissistic. I wanted to give her an award for loving herself more than anyone else I’ve ever known. She’s the reason I left.”

Her life had gotten better, at least financially, if she’d just gone on a long European vacation. Hazel wouldn’t judge, but many people she had come into contact with who had gotten divorced more than one time had personal issues. She was no expert, though. She only had her few and far between observations.

“Do you remember the babies who were born on Christmas morning?” Callum asked.

“Everybody remembers the babies who are born each Christmas. I remember the ones who were born on New Year’s Eve, too.” She seemed exceedingly proud of her memory reserves.

“Do you remember a sick baby that day?” Callum asked.

Hazel heard the careful anticipation in his tone. He had high hopes this woman would have something for him.

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