Flynn (Oath of Honor #8)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Taylor Templeton frowned at the sound of breaking glass. It was three in the morning and she was giving three month old Max his bottle. She rose, cradling the baby close and moved toward the nursery door. A wave of apprehension made her turn and douse the small lamp on the nightstand, plunging the room into darkness.

The Millers were asleep, or so she assumed. Robin and Steve Miller were distant cousins on her mom’s side of the family. When they’d learned she had experience as a live-in nanny, they’d hired her to help with Max now that Robin Miller had returned to work. The large two-story house in Brookland, Wisconsin, was very nice, and the Millers were decent people.

She hovered in the open doorway, listening intently. Had she imagined the sound? Maybe Robin or Steve had woken up in the middle of the night and had dropped a glass of water. She could be battling fear for no reason at all.

Then a creaking sound reached her ears.

Someone was coming up the stairs!

Without giving herself time to think, she darted across the hall from the nursery to her bedroom. She left both doors open, fearing that closing them would catch the attention of whoever was coming up the stairs. Then she grabbed her phone from the nightstand where she’d had it charging.

The thud of a footstep on the landing made her shrink away from the bed. Spotting the walk-in closet, she quietly opened the door and stepped inside. She didn’t close the door because it sometimes squeaked. Besides, she had to assume the intruder was looking for money, and if so, he would have no reason to come inside her room.

Or so she hoped.

Pressing herself in the corner of the closet against her clothes, she fought to breathe normally, despite the frantic beat of her heart. Her last live-in nanny assignment had brought a level of danger, so it was possible she was overreacting.

Steve could have dropped the glass, then cleaned it up, and was returning to the master suite. Yes, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she was being ridiculous. There was no reason to be afraid.

She stepped toward the partially open closet door.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

The four shots were somewhat muffled but loud enough to reach her. Every muscle in her body froze at the implication.

Gunfire? Had the intruder shot and killed the Millers?

Taylor opened her mouth to scream but managed to swallow the sound without uttering a word. She needed to call 911, but her fingers didn’t want to cooperate. Max continued to suckle his bottle, thankfully oblivious to the danger.

Then she saw a man dressed in black moving past the open doorway of her room. She caught a brief glimpse of his face, especially his prominent nose and bearded face. Her heart nearly burst out of her chest as she recoiled back from the closet door. She lowered herself to the floor, scooting into the corner and bending over to make herself as small as possible.

She didn’t dare call 911, fearing the sound of her voice would lead the gunman to her hiding spot. Instead, she opened her text message app and scrolled through to the last message she had exchanged with Flynn Ryerson, a Milwaukee cop she’d met on her last assignment. She always kept her phone on silent, so she didn’t hesitate to send a text, despite knowing he wouldn’t likely see it at this hour of the morning.

A gunman is in the house!

She held the phone screen against Max’s blanket to minimize the glow of light. The seconds ticked by with excruciating slowness. Then she saw the flash as Flynn responded.

Get out!

I can’t. He’s in the hallway. I’m hiding in the closet with the baby.

Where?

Taylor texted him the address. The minute she hit send, a muffled thud sent her pulse skyrocketing. Was the intruder looking for the baby?

For her?

Lord Jesus, keep us safe in Your care!

Knowing Flynn was on the way, Taylor tried to remain calm. Maybe the gunman wouldn’t stick around. She belatedly realized Max had stopped taking the bottle. She needed to burp him but was afraid to move. He squirmed in her arms as if he were uncomfortable. What if he started to cry?

Bitter fear coated her tongue. With exaggerated slowness, she placed her phone screen down on the floor beside her to free up her hands. Gently shifting the baby in her arms, she settled him upright against her shoulder. She prayed he wouldn’t start crying or make any other sound that would give them away.

He didn’t.

Rubbing circles over Max’s back, she strained to listen. The silence was not reassuring. She half expected the closet door to swing open revealing the gunman.

But then she heard more footsteps. Was the gunman leaving? She was afraid to move, to take another look.

Max burped. She held her breath, hoping and praying the gunman hadn’t heard the sound. If he was really heading down the stairs, it wasn’t likely.

A flash of light nearly made her scream. A flashlight? Was the intruder still searching for them? Biting her lip hard to keep from crying out, she sat frozen with Max on her shoulder, expecting the beam of light to grow closer.

Then it was gone.

She held her breath until she grew dizzy. By some miracle, Max had fallen asleep against her. She stayed where she was, imagining the intruder going methodically through each room in the house.

A wailing police siren filled her with hope. She felt certain that Flynn had called 911 on her behalf and that the local cops were well on their way. She forced herself to stand, using the wall for support as her knees felt like overcooked noodles.

Taylor peered through the gap of the half-open closet door. She didn’t see anyone, and she couldn’t hear anything either.

Except for the sirens that grew louder and louder.

If the intruder was smart, he’d bolt out of there before the cops arrived. Still, she hesitated, fear crippling her. Then she heard a loud crash of a door being forced open. She jumped, startling the baby.

“Taylor? Where are you?”

Flynn’s shout was accompanied by the sound of pounding footsteps. She moved toward the doorway of her room, risking a quick glance out the door. She nearly sobbed in relief as Flynn rushed toward her.

“Taylor. Are you okay?” He wrapped his arms around her and Max. “You’re not hurt?”

“F-fine.” She was shivering, partially from the cold, but more so because of the horrifying experience. “Y-you need to ch-check on Robin and Steve. I—heard gunshots. Four gunshots.”

Flynn’s expression was grim as he turned to look over his shoulder. She noticed now that two uniformed officers had followed him up the stairs. They took a moment to poke their head into the nursery, then made their way down the hall, their weapons raised as they approached the closed door of the master suite.

Taylor turned her face into Flynn’s shoulder as the officers opened the door and entered the room. It didn’t take long for them to return.

“Two victims, male and female, were killed in their bed,” an officer with the name tag of Rawson said grimly. “Each victim was shot twice.”

“Robin and Steve Miller.” She whispered the names of Max’s parents. The news was exactly what she’d expected, but hearing the blunt words sent a wave of panic washing over her. Not just because the baby in her arms was now an orphan.

No, the worst part was that she’d gotten a glimpse of the gunman. She was the sole witness to a double homicide.

And from the way that guy had stealthily entered the home and ruthlessly killed Max’s parents, she felt certain he wouldn’t balk at finding and silencing her too.

Flynn did not like this situation one bit. He glanced at the Brookland PD officers who were regarding Taylor with veiled suspicion.

“This is Taylor Templeton. She’s a live-in nanny,” he explained. “I know her from a previous case.”

The officers exchanged a dubious glance. “That’s fine. We’ll need her to come down to the station for questioning.”

“I know, and she will. But she deserves a chance to change her clothes and get stuff for the baby.” Flynn’s blood ran cold at the thought of the gunman finding Taylor and the baby hiding in the closet. He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to wake up to her text message, but he was glad he had. He could feel her shaking and knew she was on the verge of a breakdown. Not that he blamed her. “Give us a few minutes, okay?”

“Fine. But don’t touch anything outside these two rooms,” Officer Rawson warned, gesturing to Taylor’s room and the nursery.

When they were alone, he smoothed a hand down Taylor’s back to reassure her. “I’m sorry about this, but you need to change and pack a bag. For yourself and the baby.”

Taking a long, slow breath, she nodded and eased back. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” He frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Um, yeah. I think so.” She didn’t sound at all confident. He eyed her with concern. Taylor was only twenty-four years old, much younger than his thirty-one, but appeared older now that she’d come face-to-face with death.

“Why don’t you let me hold the baby?” He kept his tone soothing. “We can’t stay here, Taylor. We need to go.”

She seemed to pull herself together. “I know. Here, take him. His name is Max.” She gently pressed the baby into his arms. “I don’t understand why this is happening,” she murmured as she turned to grab an overnight case from the closet. “Why would someone murder the Millers?”

“I don’t know.” Flynn gazed down at the sleeping baby lying in the crook of his elbow. The poor kid had barely come into this world and was already an orphan. Then he glanced back at her. “But rest assured the police won’t stop until they find and arrest the man who did this.”

She gave a jerky nod. “Will you please turn around so I can change? Don’t leave,” she quickly added, “just turn around.”

Flynn did as she asked. He wanted to question her about what had transpired but reminded himself this wasn’t his case. He was a Milwaukee tactical team police officer out of the seventh district. He and his teammates didn’t have jurisdiction in Brookland.

However, the captain of their team, Rhyland Finnegan, happened to live in Brookland and knew many of the local police officers on a first-name basis. Rhy and their team lieutenant, Joe Kingsley—who happened to be married to Elly Finnegan, Rhy’s baby sister—had a penchant for getting information from other jurisdictions.

It was a little early to call Joe or Rhy, so Flynn figured he’d wait until after Taylor had given her statement to contact his boss. Maybe by then he’d know more about what had transpired here.

His humble opinion was that this was a professional hit. Striking each victim with two gunshots was overkill, but it also sent a grim message.

And clearly Taylor was in danger now too.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He turned to find Taylor was dressed in a pair of snug blue jeans and a light-blue cable sweater. She had her blond hair pulled into a ponytail, her bright-blue eyes wide and fearful. She had a small suitcase on the floor beside her. He managed a smile. “You’re all set?”

“I, uh, need toiletries from the bathroom.” She swallowed hard, as if she were nervous about leaving the room. “Then I’ll grab some things for Max.”

“Let’s go.” He nudged the bedroom door open with his elbow. “You’re safe now,” he added.

“Am I?” She shook her head as she brushed past him. She darted in and out of the bathroom, shoving toiletries into her bag, then moved into the nursery. Five minutes later, she emerged with an overstuffed diaper bag.

Her suitcase and the diaper bag were stark reminders that traveling with a woman and a baby wasn’t simple or quick. His buddy Zeke Hawthorne had experienced this firsthand a few weeks ago when he’d played the role of fiancé and bodyguard to his best friend’s sister. Zeke had taken a bullet to the shoulder and was out on medical leave, or he’d have called him for backup.

Well, maybe not since Zeke and Sienna were engaged to be married for real and were also currently in Louisville for Sienna’s next Christian music concert. No, he couldn’t call Zeke, but there were seven other officers who would come to his aid if needed.

“We need to grab Max’s car seat.” Taylor’s voice broke into his thoughts as she headed down the stairs to the main floor. Still carrying Max, he followed.

“Ms. Templeton?” Another uniformed officer waited in the kitchen. “Are you ready to go with us to the Brookland PD?”

Flynn stepped forward. “I’ll bring Ms. Templeton and the baby to you. That way I can take her someplace else when you’re finished as she obviously can’t stay here.”

The officer frowned. “Who are you again?”

“MPD Officer Flynn Ryerson, I work for Rhy Finnegan’s tactical team.” Dropping his boss’s name had the desired effect. The officer straightened and nodded.

“Oh yes, of course. We’re familiar with Captain Finnegan. We’ll meet you at the Brookland PD.” The cop turned away, then paused to glance back at him. “You’re not going to call Finnegan, are you?”

“Not at this time,” Flynn said. “But depending on what happens next, I may have to.” He gestured to the large home. “You do realize he’s going to hear about this as we’re only ten blocks from where he lives. This isn’t the type of place where people are murdered in their beds.”

The cop made a face. “Tell me about it.”

Flynn noticed Taylor was shoving more items from the kitchen cupboard into the diaper bag. “Here, you take Max. I’ll do that.”

“No need. I have it.” She used all her weight to press down on the stuff inside. Then she dropped her chin to her chest, heaving a sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

He moved closer. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this by taking one step at a time.”

She lifted her head and quickly brushed tears from her eyes. She drew in a shaky breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Do you have a coat?” There had been frost warnings in the news, which were not unusual for early November. “And where is the car seat?”

“My coat is in the mud room, and the infant seat is in the Millers’ car.” She gestured to the right. “They let me use their vehicle at times. Is it okay to go out there? I forgot I wasn’t supposed to touch anything.”

“You’ve been living here; your fingerprints are all over the place anyway.” He understood Rawson’s concern about preserving evidence, but if this was a professional hit, there wouldn’t be much of anything to find. “Besides, there’s no reason to believe he was in the mudroom or the garage. There’s a broken window in the office that faces the back of the house. That appears to be the point of entry.”

“Yes, I think so too. I heard the glass breaking.” She shivered. “If I hadn’t been awake and feeding Max...”

“Don’t dwell on the what-if scenarios,” he advised. “There’s no point in looking backward. Let’s just grab what we need to get out of here.”

She gave a jerky nod and proceeded to the mudroom, which served as a first-floor laundry room as well. After donning a puffy navy-blue winter coat, she opened the garage door and flicked on the light.

He continued holding Max until she had the car seat out of the vehicle and sitting on the dryer. She rummaged in the diaper bag for a blanket, then took Max from his arms. With deft movements, Taylor buckled the sleeping baby into the car seat, then tucked the blanket around him for added warmth.

“I’ll take that.” He reached for the car seat. “My car is out front. Stay close to me, okay?”

“You don’t think the killer is still out there, do you?” Taylor’s blue eyes widened with apprehension.

“Not likely, but humor me.” Flynn still experienced a stab of guilt over the way he’d inadvertently put his teammate in danger by trusting the wrong man. That had been almost a year ago, and he’d done his best not to let that slip paralyze him moving forward. Rhy had been unwaveringly supportive about the whole debacle. Still, Flynn tended to be more cautious these days.

He didn’t want to make another mistake like that ever again.

Red and blue lights lit up the sky from the three responding squads parked in front of the house. Flynn fully expected more to arrive, along with the crime scene techs who would be tasked with collecting evidence from the house. The ME would be called in, too, even though there was no question about the cause of death. His black SUV was parked behind the squads, as he’d pulled up a minute after the officers.

And he had been extremely upset that they hadn’t breached the house prior to his arrival. He’d taken the lead, kicking the front door in to gain access, even as the other officers had yelled for him to stay back.

Now those same officers gave him room to move past them mostly out of respect for Rhy Finnegan, not him specifically. He opened the rear passenger door and grimaced at the garbage that littered the back seat.

“Do you live your car or what?” Taylor asked, eyeing the mess.

“No. Sorry.” His reputation of being a slob hadn’t bothered him until now. With quick movements, he brushed the fast-food bags and crumpled napkins to the floor. Then he set Max’s car seat down on the cushion.

“I’ll do it.” Taylor pushed him aside. “I suspect the front seat doesn’t look much better.”

Since she was right about that, he stepped back and opened the front passenger door to clean off the seat for her. He took a moment to shove as much of the garbage into one of the larger fast-food bags to minimize the mess.

Still, there was no way to get rid of it all. Other than tossing what was left onto the floor of the front seat into the back.

Yeah, he really needed to do a better job of cleaning up after himself.

When that was finished, he took a moment to put Taylor’s suitcase in the back before sliding in behind the wheel.

“Good grief,” Taylor muttered as she settled into the newly cleared away passenger seat. She glanced at him with exasperation as she clicked her seatbelt into place. “I don’t even want to imagine what your house looks like.”

He shrugged as he started the engine. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, why don’t I believe that?” Her tone was lightly sarcastic, and he was glad she was thinking about something other than the brutal murders. Then as he pulled away from the curb, she asked, “How long will this take?”

“I’m not sure.” He glanced at her. “I guess that depends on what you know about what happened.”

She frowned. “I have no idea why someone broke into the house to murder the Millers. They’re decent people from what I know. I’ve only been here for two weeks, but they’ve been nice enough. Not as demanding as some new parents I’ve worked with.”

“You texted me that you were hiding in the closet,” he said. “Was that after you heard the gunfire?”

“I’m not sure. Wait, yes, I think so.” She shivered. “It all happened so fast. I heard the glass break first. Then the creak of the stairs. I left the nursery with Max to go into my room so I could grab my phone.”

“Go on,” he said when she paused.

“I hid in the closet, then thought I was being overly paranoid. I thought maybe Steve had accidentally dropped a glass of water and was returning to his room. I was about to step out of the closet when I heard the four gunshots.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I froze, and that’s when I saw him. The gunman walked right past my room.”

“Wait, you saw him?” Flynn gaped at her. “You saw his face?”

“From the side, yes. He had a big nose and a beard.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “I shrank back into the closet and texted you. I was afraid he’d hear me or the operator if I called 911.”

He nodded absently, still reeling from the fact that she saw the perp’s face. Or rather the side of his face. Then a horrible thought struck. “Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so.” She frowned. “He looked around using a flashlight, but then left. I don’t think he’d have walked away if he’d caught a glimpse of me hiding in the closet.”

“No, probably not.” Still, Flynn didn’t like it. If the perp had swept his flashlight over the room, he had to have noticed the empty but obviously slept-in bed. He’d have to assume someone had been staying there.

“I heard the police sirens shortly after that,” Taylor said. “I figured the sound scared him away.”

“I’m sure it did.” The news was hardly reassuring. The gunman had killed two people in their beds. Was it possible the perp had the means to learn that the Millers had hired a live-in nanny?

If so, Taylor Templeton could very well be next on the killer’s hit list.