nodded and they escorted their details up the stairs to the stage. Atlanta PD worked crowd control at the stage floor. Jody adjusted her earpiece and mic as she scanned the seats padded with supporters and protestors, all holding signs that contradicted one another.
Static crackled over the earpiece, then Wilder spoke. “We’ve got a situation outside with protesters. Keep eyes on the wolf and his cub.”
“Roger that,” team member Shepherd Lightman said through the line. He was at the stage floor with law enforcement, observing with hawk-like skill.
Jody inched closer to Mr. Wiseman—the cub—as Evan and the two agents with him went on high alert. The senator continued his passionate speech on the Second Amendment, oblivious that something sinister might be going down outside.
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She snatched it. Wilder.
Need you outside. East entrance.
The situation must be escalating. Waiting a beat for her position to be manned, she scanned the crowd, that ominous feeling from earlier raising hairs on her neck. No one came, but Wilder needed her. Shepherd caught her eye. Guess he’d be watching Wiseman from the floor.
She slipped from her post, aware of Evan’s scowl.
Jody weaved through the back halls to the exit doors and outside. Clearly Wilder didn’t want everyone alerted to the problem or he’d have used the mic. She was at the east entrance but only uniformed officers covered the area. It was quiet.
No situation. No problem.
Too quiet.
She bolted for the doors inside, running down the halls and back into the arena just in time to hear the first pop of gunfire.
* * *
Evan Novak sprang into action, diving on top of Senator Townes.
Another shot fired and grazed his shoulder. He winced at the burn and hollered, “Let’s go! Clear out!”
Jody flew up the stage stairs, placing herself in front of him, Mr. Wiseman and the senator, gun in hand like the expert she was, but the fact that she was using her body as their shield spun him into a fit of anxiety—like it had when he’d been crazy in love with her.
Where had she been anyway? Leaving like that with no security within a foot of Mr. Wiseman?
A third shot rang out, and the crowd went even more wild, like bulls bucking and stampeding from stalls. Screams resounded over one another. People trampled each other as law enforcement worked to clear the seats and keep order.
“Are you okay, Senator?” Evan was now flanked by other agents and law enforcement.
“Egg’s hatched,” Wilder called through his mic.
Good. The car was at the door.
The senator nodded—in shock—and kept his head ducked as Evan and his team retreated to the exit. Another agent cleared the door first, then signaled. Evan shoved Senator Townes inside and climbed in beside him as Jody pressed Mr. Wiseman into the other side and accompanied him, her mouth forming a grim line.
“You’ve been shot, Agent Novak,” Senator Townes said, eyes wide.
“I’m right as rain, sir. Let’s get you out of here.” Everyone was safe right now and that’s all that mattered. When they had a moment of privacy, he’d find out why Jody left her post. That wasn’t like her, and the fact that she’d left right before the shots unsettled him.
“Where are we going?” the senator asked.
“Covenant Crisis Management. The safe point we agreed on if anything went sideways,” Jody said.
Like this.
Jody discreetly covered her nose. Everyone’s adrenaline must be pumping out some powerful and unpleasant odors. He shaded his eyes with sunglasses, not from the sun so much as the chance to observe her unnoticed. Same golden hair, only much shorter—barely brushing her neck. A smattering of freckles across a petite nose and full lips dusted in an understated pink gloss. Tomboyish and feminine wrapped up in one exquisite package. His gut tightened and he looked away.
He had no right to think about her like this. Not anymore.
“Thank you for saving my life,” the senator said.
“You’re welcome.” Just doing his job. Evan glanced at his shoulder and frowned. If the podium hadn’t been there, he would have taken a severe hit. He slid his gaze to Jody again, this time observing her manner. Cool as a cucumber. On the outside. But her flicking at her middle fingernail gave away her anxiety, and she kept casting small glances to his shoulder. Was she concerned for him? If so, had she forgiven him for his greatest mistake?
Doubtful. If she had, she would have responded to the letter he’d written her, or called him, emailed, texted. But it had been radio silence for three years. Evan had been in a dark place long before that. The pressure of the job and all the pressures of his past he’d never dealt with had sent him spiraling into the same coping mechanism of the one person he promised himself he’d never be.
His father.
Now that he’d become a man of faith, he didn’t need alcohol to help him cope or to give him the strength for another day. God was Evan’s strength, but it didn’t change the truth that deep down the apple didn’t fall from the tree.
He wanted Jody’s forgiveness desperately, but he wouldn’t allow himself to dare ask for a second chance. He’d ruined the one great thing in his life, and he wouldn’t risk hurting her again. History told him he probably would. How many times had Dad said he was sorry for hurting one of them or drinking again or any number of painful things only to turn around after a while and repeat it, ripping Mom up emotionally like a rag toy?
Evan refused to inflict that kind of pain on Jody—for the second time.
“Have you received any threatening letters, Senator?” Jody asked as the SUV drove them to CCM.
“I get them every now and again. Mostly smoke blowing.” The senator pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I need to call my wife. By now this is all over the news.”
Strange his wife wasn’t here today. “Where is she?”
“Our son was in a car accident three days ago. He’s in the hospital. She didn’t want to leave him.” Remorse surfaced in his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have, either.”
Evan’s place wasn’t to judge or advise, so he remained quiet. They made their way down the long drive fringed with ancient oaks dripping with grayish Spanish moss until the looming historic plantation home came into view. Something straight out of Gone with the Wind. The columned porch made a perfect square around the entire home. Tall French windows lined the front—four on the top and bottom—shuttered in black. In the summer, Evan could imagine swinging them open to let in a summer breeze. Jody would enjoy the smell of lilac. It was her favorite...or it used to be.
Several white rockers decorated the top and bottom porches.
Two more black SUVs parked in
