done his share of volunteer work at All Our Kids. He’d owed the congressman and the home that. Last year, he’d put new tile flooring in the kitchen, painted the trim of a dozen windows, helped run a field day for foster kids and their families. He’d seen Cassie there more times than he could count.
He scowled. “What are you doing up there, Cassie?”
“Climbing for my life,” she responded, her dark green gaze fixed on Glory.
Glory barked, and Cassie scrambled higher into the tree.
“Glory isn’t going to hurt you.”
“You might want to tell her that,” she said. She had a bruise on her cheek, blood on her feet. Something had happened to send her out into the woods at this time of the night. Had she heard the sirens? Come to see what was going on? Run into whoever it was Glory had been chasing through the woods?
He needed to get her out of the tree, get her back to All Our Kids, find out exactly what was going on.
“I already did. That’s why she backed off,” he responded, clipping on Glory’s lead. “She won’t move again unless I tell her to.”
“I’m not sure I can move, either,” she muttered.
“You’re stuck?”
“Maybe.” She peered down at him, her red hair falling across her cheeks, her eyes wide with fear. She’d managed to climb up ten feet, and he thought she might be wondering how she was going to get down.
“Want me to climb up?” he asked.
“I can figure it out. Thanks.” She eased down through the tree, her hand grasping branches and pine needles.
It seemed to take forever, every painstaking inch of progress making Gavin want to climb up and give her the help she said she didn’t need.
Instead, he waited.
He’d known Cassie for a couple of years. Not well, but enough to understand a few things about her. She wasn’t the kind of person who liked needing help, wasn’t the kind who’d trust quickly or easily. She was great with the kids, seemed to have a good relationship with Harland and Michael. She attended fund-raisers and hobnobbed with ease, but she didn’t ask for anything from anyone. If one of her kids had a need, she found a way to provide for it.
That was probably one of the reasons Harland had hired her at such a young age. The go-getter attitude combined with compassion. Those things were necessary for the job she did.
What was necessary for his job was information, and he needed it sooner rather than later. Because, someone else had been out in the woods with them. Someone Glory had been tracking. Someone who’d been beelining it toward the road.
Michael’s killer?
Maybe.
And, maybe Cassie had seen him, could offer a description that would help bring him to justice.
Gavin needed whatever information she had.
First, though, he needed her out of the tree.
Cassie hadn’t climbed a tree in years. That hadn’t seemed to be a problem when she’d seen Gavin’s dog coming after her. She’d scrambled up the tree so quickly, she might have broken the sound-speed barrier.
The problem was, she’d never ever climbed down a tree.
The last time she’d tried, she’d been twelve. The effort had resulted in a broken arm and a trip to the ER.
She didn’t plan to repeat the mistake.
On the other hand, her progress was so slow, the sun might come up before she actually made it to the ground.
“Cassie?” Gavin called, a hint of impatience in his voice. She didn’t know what he’d been doing out in the woods, but she was glad he had been. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could have eluded the guy who’d been chasing her. She’d been fast, but he’d been savvy, slipping through the trees after her. Stealthy. Practiced. As if he’d hunted prey hundreds of times before.
She shuddered, her feet slipping off the bough she’d clambered onto.
“Careful,” Gavin called as if she needed to be reminded that she was up in a tree, the ground a good seven feet below her.
“I’m trying,” she muttered, inching down a little farther. Sirens were blaring, the sound coming from the direction of the house.
Virginia must have heard her scream and called the police.
Good. The kids would be protected.
That was all she cared about.
That and making sure the guy she’d seen on the back porch didn’t return.
She stepped onto another bough, pine needles digging into her raw feet. Her cheek throbbed, her jaw ached, but she was alive, help was at hand. God was good. Even in the bad times. She’d learned that young, and the knowledge had served her well. She’d hold on to it as she tried to figure out who had been on the back porch, what he’d wanted. Not just to steal something. If that had been the case, he’d have run when she’d opened the door.
Her sweater snagged on bark, her palms stinging as slivers of wood pierced flesh. She shifted her grip, tried to find another bough to place her feet on.
Gavin grabbed her ankle, tugged gently. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
“You’ve got my ankle. What good is that going to do?”
“Cassie, we don’t have all night. Just trust me and let go.”
Trust?
She wasn’t very good at that.
“Thanks, but I can—”
“A man was murdered tonight. His killer is on the loose. How about we skip all the ‘I’ve got to do it myself’ stuff and get you down, so I can get on with my investigation?”
His words sent cold fear shooting up her spine.
The guy on her back porch had looked like he could kill someone without batting an eye or feeling a bit of remorse. Had he been looking for another victim when he’d arrived at All Our Kids?
She let go.
Gavin managed to grab her waist as she fell, lowering her to the ground with so little effort, it was almost embarrassing that she’d doubted him. After all, the guy towered over her. Six-two to her five-three, and he had muscle to spare. Obviously, he worked out. A lot. He probably also ran, biked and swam. She spent most her time chasing kids around.
“Thanks,” she murmured, stepping away and nearly bumping into Gavin’s huge dog. It looked like a German shepherd but was nothing like Miss Alice’s old dog Angus. He’d been a shepherd, too, his muzzle already white with age
