was his daughter. Would she lose the only parent who wanted her?
The police couldn’t come fast enough.
* * *
Delaney Patton had joined the US Marshals almost three years ago to run from her mistakes. She didn’t think she’d be sent right back to face the past.
The rental car idled while she stared at the nondescript blue house she’d once called home in Ames, Iowa. Later, it was the place where she’d gotten the news that her boyfriend, and fellow police officer, had died. The police chief had told her while she’d fought to keep a brave face. She hadn’t been strong enough. She’d broken down, and then her water had broken.
Most days, the memories didn’t feel real, more like recalling a bad dream. Early labor had followed the tragic news, and in her grief and despair, she’d decided to give the baby up for adoption. Her little girl deserved better than a single mom who couldn’t cope.
Delaney sucked in a sharp breath. Her appearance still looked relatively the same—long brunette hair always pulled back in a ponytail—but she was a different person now. If given the opportunity to do it all over again, she wouldn’t make the same choices. But life didn’t offer do-overs.
It did no good to wallow. The Marshals had transferred her back to the Southern District of Iowa because Delaney knew it like the back of her hand. And while the base of operations was located in Des Moines, it was possible she’d be sent to Ames occasionally.
Delaney shifted the car into Drive. She’d found out what she needed to know. She could handle being in Ames, even on this street, without breaking down. Now she just had to work up the courage to let her parents know she was back in the state.
Her phone rang. “US Marshals. Deputy Marshal Patton.”
“Welcome home!” The deep boisterous voice could only belong to her previous police chief, Stephen Bradford, now the newly appointed US marshal for the Southern District of Idaho.
“Thank you, sir.” She tried to sound enthusiastic, but it fell flat. It was hard to shake the feeling that her new boss knew too much about her. He had, after all, been the one to hold her as she’d cried all the way to the hospital.
“Listen, I know you just flew in last night. I wanted to give you the weekend to get settled but—”
“Urgent case?” Hope blossomed. Going after a fugitive case that would take her across the state sounded like the perfect transition to the district.
“It’s an expedited protection custody assignment. The Bureau pushed it through to the US Attorney’s Office this afternoon.”
Delaney felt her eyebrows rise. Normal procedure took at least ten business days to get witness protection from the Marshals. To have it scheduled within one day meant something big had happened. “Any details?”
“They’re coming to me piecemeal. Two witnesses stopped a hacker from planting a back door that would provide access to bank credentials. The hacker allegedly murdered the security guard and escaped before law enforcement arrived on the scene. Security cameras and access logs had been disabled. No murder weapon has been found.”
“The hacker?” Delaney tried to make sense of what she was hearing. The situation was certainly serious, but so far she didn’t see the reason for expedited protection.
“Arrested an hour ago. Feds think he’s the key to bringing down the CryptTakers.”
That particular criminal organization had been wreaking havoc across the country for the past three years. Last year, they’d taken insurance claims for ransom as well as hospital records. Unlike other “hacktivism” groups that insisted their cybercrimes were for good, the CryptTakers had suspected ties to terrorist groups.
“Preliminary background check shows your witness, a Bruce Walker, has no priors. Owner of the software company that provides banks with analysis software, divorced over a year ago, sole custody of his adopted daughter. No other family in town.”
A mental image formed of a workaholic man in his early fifties with a teenage daughter. She knew the type. “So are we talking WITSEC or trial protection?”
“Assistant US Attorney thinks the moment the witnesses show up to testify, the guy will be ready to turn informant.”
“So there must be a reason the hacker doesn’t turn informant now.”
“Exactly. The suspect implied he didn’t think the witnesses would be able to make it to trial.”
“A veiled threat, then. Matches the reputation of the CryptTakers.”
“The other witness, Nancy King, commutes from Story City. We already have a team on the way. Your witness is located in Ames. I want you taking the lead on his detail.”
Delaney nodded silently. She knew the Ames area best, likely better than the other marshals based out of Des Moines, but it still seemed like a big step to be appointed lead.
“Police are with your witness now. I’ll tell them to expect you in an hour.”
She hesitated to answer. “I’m actually in Ames now.” She kept her gear packed and with her at all times. She never knew when a fugitive alert would come her way.
An uncomfortable silence followed. “That’s good. Face those memories head-on.”
Delaney cringed. Bradford didn’t even have to be in the same room to see right through her. How was she supposed to impress a man who already knew all her faults?
“I’ll send a car,” he said. He rattled off the witness’s address. “Since this is my stomping ground, feel free to consult me as well as the chief deputy with any questions. We’re working tandem on this one. Two deputies will meet you there in an hour for transport to the safe house. I’ll send the vetting information and case briefing as soon as I have them.”
It would be the first time she’d ever served as lead on anything in the Marshals, which meant she couldn’t let Marshal Bradford down. And being responsible for someone as important as a witness who could take down the CryptTakers caused a sudden craving for chocolate. Was there still a chocolate shop on Main Street? She shook off the thought and made a U-turn.
Bruce Walker lived in an older neighborhood near Squaw Creek, where the streets were lined with mature maple trees. She gawked at the house as she slowed to a stop. Unlike the typical farmhouse architecture on the street, his was a Tudor, a gorgeous piece of architecture the likes of which she’d only dreamed of ever owning. The steeply pitched gable roof, the curved wooden door, the decorative brick on the lower half and the chimney all hinted at simpler, more elegant times.
Given the age of the house, it wasn’t a surprise the garage was unattached. A police cruiser was parked in the paved space between the garage and the house. A block away, an officer sat inside another cruiser strategically positioned at the curve, behind a twisted oak tree that jutted into the road.
Delaney braced herself. It’d been about three years since she’d been on the Ames police force, and during the last months of her service there, she’d been pregnant. Hopefully, the officers assigned to the protection detail were new recruits. She didn’t want to rehash the past or go down memory lane with anyone. She stepped out of the rental car, held up her US Marshals
