Flynn (Oath of Honor #8)

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Taylor’s stomach twisted painfully as she followed Flynn into the police station. He had insisted on carrying Max’s car seat, while she had the diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Thankfully, the little boy was still sleeping.

She was concerned about the fate of the baby who’d lost his parents in a brutal murder. The reality of the situation still hadn’t quite sunk in. Not only was Max an orphan, but she was in danger.

Not to mention needing a new job. And a place to live.

Maybe she needed to give up the idea of being a nanny and go back to working for a day care center. Two cases going bad in two months was too many.

“Please have a seat.” An Officer Jones had escorted them back to an interview room. “Would you like coffee? Detective Klem will be here soon.”

“Coffee would be great,” she said, even though she wasn’t the least bit tired.

“For me too,” Flynn added as he set Max’s car seat on the table. “Thanks.”

Taylor dropped the diaper bag onto the floor and sank into the closest chair. “Will they call the Department of Child Protective Services for Max?”

“Yes.” Flynn’s green eyes held hers. “I know how hard this is for you, but I’ll stay close, okay?”

She tried to smile. “I know you take your duty seriously.”

“It’s not just duty,” Flynn said, his gaze serious. “You witnessed a horrific crime. It’s my job to keep you safe.”

She appreciated Flynn’s protection more than he knew. Four weeks ago when she’d first met Flynn, their personalities had clashed. She’d sensed how he’d looked down on her for being a live-in nanny. As if it wasn’t a real job because all she did was take care of kids, most recently babies.

Flynn didn’t realize the pay was decent, and the work was such that she often had downtime, which she had used to pursue her dream of writing a romance novel. Not that it was any of his business what she did for work.

After this most recent incident, she’d wondered if she’d taken the wrong path. Never before had she been in harm’s way.

Until now.

“Here you go.” Officer Jones returned carrying two cups of coffee. “Don’t worry, this is from a fresh pot, not our usual sludge,” he said jokingly to Flynn.

“Great.” Flynn sipped from the cup.

She wrapped her hands around the cardboard cup, soaking in the warmth.

“It’s going to be okay,” Flynn said, breaking the silence.

Would it? She tried to nod, but just then the door opened, and a heavyset man came in. “Are you Taylor Templeton?”

“Yes.” She straightened in her chair.

“I’m Detective Klem.” He shook her hand, then turned to do the same with Flynn. “I understand you were the live-in nanny for the Millers.”

“Yes. But I only started two weeks ago.” She glanced at Max who continued to sleep peacefully. “My job is obviously to care for the baby. I was feeding him when,” she faltered, then added, “it happened.”

Detective Klem nodded. “Would you mind starting from the beginning? Oh, and you need to know this interview will be recorded.”

She glanced up at the camera mounted in the corner of the room, remembering every crime show she’d ever watched on television. Of course, she’d be recorded. She sighed and gathered her thoughts. “Max woke up crying. I went down to the kitchen to make him a bottle.”

“Did you see anyone in the house? Or hanging around outside?”

“No.” She shivered, wondering if the killer had been out there watching her. Then she decided he couldn’t have been, or he’d have made sure to kill her too. “I was sitting in the rocker in the nursery feeding the baby when I heard glass breaking. I stood and moved to the doorway. When one of the stairs creaked, I dashed across the hall to my room to grab my phone.”

Detective Klem nodded thoughtfully. “Then what happened?”

She stared down at her coffee. “I started to hide in the closet, then thought maybe Steve Miller had broken a glass and was headed to his room. I was about to step out of the closet with Max when I heard the four gunshots.”

“You heard four gunshots?” Klem repeated.

“Yes. But with a brief pause between the first two and second two.” She shivered, remembering. “I froze in the doorway. I was still holding Max when I saw the gunman pass by my bedroom.”

The detective’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “You saw him?”

She nodded. “But only from the side. White male, tall, with a large nose and bearded chin. He was dressed in black.” Another detail popped into her head. “He wore thin black gloves. I... didn’t see the gun, though. He must have had it in his right hand.”

“Do you think you’d recognize him if you saw him again?” Klem asked.

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe if I saw his profile I would, but it was dark, and I was scared out of my mind.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“How old was he?” Klem asked.

She blew out a breath. “I would say twenties or thirties. His beard and hair were dark. No sign of gray. But I didn’t see his full face, so it’s hard to know for sure.”

“I understand, and I’d like you to take a look at some mug shots,” Klem said. “But first tell me what else you remember.”

“I sat in the corner of the closet with Max and texted Flynn. I—we met before, and I was too afraid to call 911 in case he heard me talking. It was shortly after that when I saw the beam of his flashlight playing around the room.”

“He had a flashlight and a gun?” Klem asked.

“I think so.” She wished she’d paid more attention. “I didn’t see either of them in his hand, just the left hand covered in a black glove. But I know there was a beam of light that shone into the room. I was scared he’d find us in the closet, but he didn’t. I assume the sound of police sirens scared him off.”

Despite the recording, she noticed the detective took notes on a pad of paper before looking up at her again. “Then what happened?”

She glanced at Flynn. “Flynn and the other officers arrived.”

Detective Klem sat back in his chair. “What do you know about the Millers?”

“I—not a lot. They’re second cousins on my mom’s side of the family, but I never met or interacted with them before they hired me to be their nanny.”

“What do they do for work?” Klem asked.

“Steve Miller is the president of Brookland Bank, and Robin does some interior designing.” She managed a wry smile. “Apparently, Robin’s most recent client was one of the big-name players from the Milwaukee Bucks. She was excited, hoping that word would spread to other famous athletes.” Her smile faded as she realized Robin Miller would not design anything ever again.

“Bank and interior design,” Klem repeated thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

“You’re thinking the banker was the most likely target for the professional hit,” Flynn said, speaking up for the first time.

Klem shrugged, then slowly nodded. “Gotta follow the money. And as you say, this whole situation reeks of cold professionalism. Not a crime of passion.”

“I didn’t notice that anything in the house was taken,” Flynn went on. “From what Taylor is describing, it doesn’t sound like the perp had much time to search the place.”

“We have the crime scene techs out there now, but you’re right,” Klem admitted. “From what I’ve been told, the place looks remarkably undisturbed.”

Taylor shivered. “Robin has a cleaning service too. They come in weekly on Tuesdays.” She had to think for a moment. “Today is Thursday, right?”

“Yes, that’s good information. If we do find any fingerprints not belonging to you or the family, that may help,” Klem said. “We’ll need your prints so we can rule yours out. And I’d like your phone number too.”

“Okay.” Being fingerprinted and providing her contact info was the least she could do to help find the man who’d killed Steve and Robin Miller. “I’m happy to look at mug shots, although I’m not sure I’ll be able to recognize the gunman. But what about the baby? Max Miller?” She rested her hand on the infant car seat. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“We’ll keep him here until someone from the Department of Health and Human Services can get here to take him.” Detective Klem reached over to pat her hand. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll go into a good home.”

She wanted to believe that, but it wasn’t easy. She’d gotten attached to the little boy. “I can watch him here until they arrive,” she offered.

“That would be great,” Klem said. “Anything else you can tell us about the Millers? Has anyone been to visit them lately?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” She thought about Steve’s home office. Flynn had mentioned that was the point of entry. “Steve sometimes works from home, but I haven’t seen him meeting with anyone. I take Max out for long walks in the stroller, though, so it’s possible someone had come in to visit while I was gone.”

Detective Klem made another note on his pad. Then he glanced at Flynn. “Anything you care to add?”

Flynn pursed his lips. “Not much. I noticed the place was unusually clean, too, but that makes sense now that we know about the cleaning service. After Taylor texted me, I called 911, then rushed over to the house.”

Klem lumbered to his feet. “Okay, sit here for a minute. We’ll get your fingerprints and contact information on record first, then I’ll bring in a laptop so you can look at mug shots. I’ll run a search for guys with beards.” He shrugged. “It might help narrow the field.”

She nodded, then jumped to her feet when Max began to squirm. She caught the pungent scent and knew the baby was in dire need of a diaper change. “It’s okay, big guy, I’m here.” She lifted him from the car seat, holding him close as she reached for the diaper bag.

“Need help?” Flynn asked.

“No thanks.” She glanced at him in surprise that he’d even offered. “I can change him.”

Flynn moved her coffee cup and his out of the way. She pulled the changing pad from the bag and set Max on it. She cooed at the baby as she made quick work of unsnapping his onesie.

It bothered her to think of handing the baby over to strangers. Robin would be horrified.

There was no way she’d be allowed to step in as the baby’s temporary guardian. But maybe someone on her mom’s side of the family would offer to do so. That possibility cheered her up, and she made a mental note to call her aunt Jeannie later. Jeannie was another one of her mother’s sisters.

Her parents were out of the country on a month-long trip to Europe. She didn’t want to bother them about this now.

By the time she’d finished with Max, Detective Klem returned with the computer. After taking her fingerprints, he set up the computer. She held the baby in her lap as she worked the mouse to begin going through the mug shots. Focusing on the profiles of each criminal, she tried to mesh the face on the screen with the flash of memory she had in her mind.

But after a solid hour of searching, she wanted to scream. Either the guy wasn’t in the system or she hadn’t gotten a good look at him.

And she feared the latter.

Flynn had taken over carrying Max, pacing from one side of the conference room to the other as she’d worked. With a frustrated gesture, she pushed the computer aside and stood. “I don’t see him, and I can’t sit here anymore. Will you please take me home?” As soon as the word left her mouth, she realized she didn’t have a home.

There had been no reason to pay for an apartment in her current role. And she didn’t want to go back to living with her parents. Sometimes when she was between jobs, she’d stayed in a rental.

Yet the idea of being all alone wasn’t appealing.

As if reading her mind, Flynn handed the baby to her. “I’ll take you to my place,” he said. “I have a guest room, so you’ll have the privacy you need.”

She was grateful for the offer but pretended to think about it. “I don’t know. Based on what I saw in your car, I can’t help but wonder what I’m walking into. Are you going to expect me to clean the house?”

He laughed, and for the first time since this nightmare started, a genuine smile tugged at her mouth. “I can’t lie; it’s probably messy, especially compared to what you’re used to. But no, I don’t expect you to clean. I can manage that. This is a no-strings offer.”

“Okay, thanks.” Staying with Flynn wasn’t a long-term plan, but she needed to figure out her next steps. She swayed back and forth with Max, glancing at her watch. The hour was still relatively early, seven in the morning, and she had no idea what time the representative from child protective services would show up. “You better let Detective Klem know I couldn’t find the gunman.”

Flynn nodded and opened the door to the interview room. Then he stepped back as Detective Klem and another woman happened to be standing there. At first, Taylor thought the woman was from CPS, but then she saw the gun on her belt.

She inwardly groaned, not in the mood to start all over with another interview. She was tired, hungry, and on edge.

“I’m Detective Irving,” the woman said in a brisk no-nonsense tone. “I was hoping you’d answer a few more questions.”

“New questions?” Flynn asked, stepping next to her as if she needed his protection. “Or going through the information she’s already given Detective Klem?”

Irving’s face flushed red, then she tipped her chin defiantly. “I want to hear what our witness has to say for myself.”

“Nope, not happening,” Flynn said. “You can watch the recording. We’re leaving.”

“What about the baby?” Klem nodded at Max. “I thought you agreed to stay and watch him until the CPS worker gets here?”

Taylor looked down at the baby in her arms, then at Flynn. With a resigned nod, she sank back into her seat.

She had promised to watch over Max. Answering more questions while she waited seemed like the least she could do.

Flynn remembered Jina’s less than favorable interaction with Detective Irving, and after listening to her question Taylor, he was not impressed. The female detective came across as antagonistic and sarcastic. As if Taylor was the criminal and not the witness.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Seeing a woman hovering next to a uniformed officer, he knew the caseworker from CPS had finally arrived.

He stood. “This interview is over.”

Irving sputtered with anger, but Klem looked relieved as he shot to his feet. “I understand. Come on, Irving. There’s nothing new to be learned here. Let’s give Ms. Templeton room to discuss the baby’s care with the Department of Child Protective Services.”

Flynn thought Irving would resist leaving, but just then Max began to cry. As if sensing there was no point in pushing for more, Irving followed Klem out of the interview room.

He stayed out of the way as Taylor went through Max’s routine. “He’s probably hungry again,” she said as his wailing increased. “I can make another bottle for him before you go.”

“I’ll do it.” Flynn held out his hand. “It can’t be that hard.”

Taylor flashed a relieved smile and dug the bottle and formula supplies from the bag. “Two scoops and fill it all the way with warm—but not hot—water, okay?”

“Got it.” He took the items from the room, stopping abruptly as he saw Klem and Irving arguing.

“You should have called me,” Irving said.

“I did,” Klem shot back. “Don’t blame me because you didn’t hear your phone.”

Flynn felt sorry for Klem. It couldn’t be easy to be partnered with Irving. In the small kitchenette, he filled the baby bottle with warm water, added the formula, and shook it vigorously to dissolve the powder. As he was leaving, he heard a voice call out, “Klem! Call for you on line two!”

He wasn’t a detective, and this wasn’t his case, but Flynn hovered in the doorway of the breakroom, trying to listen in on Klem’s side of the call.

“Yeah, that’s good that a print was found in the office. Let me know if you get a hit in the system. We’re heading over to the bank to start interviewing employees now,” Klem said. “Appreciate the update.”

Flynn walked out of the kitchenette, giving Klem a nod. “You’re following up on the bank angle?”

Klem frowned, but then nodded. “Yeah. As you said, I doubt anyone doing interior design would be the target of a professional hit. I’ll be in touch with Ms. Templeton if we find someone matching the description of the shooter.”

“Sure.” He wondered about the fingerprint that was found in Steve Miller’s office, but there was no point in asking as it hadn’t been run through the system yet. Still, he intended to let Rhy know about this, so his boss could follow up with the case.

Taylor’s eyes were bright with tears as she handed Max over to the CPS caseworker. “Please take good care of him,” she said.

“We will,” the woman assured her. “And thanks for the information on the possible family connections. Placing children with relatives is always preferable in these situations.”

Taylor nodded and wiped her eyes. “I’ll call my mom too. She and my dad are on a month-long cruise, but I’d like to let her know what happened.”

That made him frown, and as he escorted Taylor through the Brookland PD, he spoke in a low voice. “I’m not sure you should reach out to your parents yet.”

“Why not?” She sounded crabby, and he couldn’t blame her.

“We don’t know who this guy is or what he’s capable of.” He opened the passenger door of his SUV for her. “Let’s give Brookland PD some time to investigate first, okay?”

She waited until he was in the driver’s seat and backing out of the parking space, before saying, “You really think he’s going to come after me?”

“I don’t know.” He wished he could reassure her, but he hadn’t liked hearing how the gunman had played his flashlight over her room. If Taylor hadn’t texted him when she had, and the Brookland PD hadn’t responded so quickly, he was very much afraid that Taylor and Max would have been ruthlessly shot and killed. “But I’d rather not take the risk.”

“I don’t believe this,” she whispered. “I thought what happened to Sienna was bad, but this is much worse.”

“Yeah. But you’re safe with me.” He tried to smile. “And the good news is that the one meal I can cook is breakfast. I have bacon, eggs, and toast at home if you’re hungry.”

“I am hungry, although it seems wrong.” She pulled the ponytail holder from her blond hair and combed her tresses with her fingers. “I just can’t believe they’re gone. That they were involved in anything that would cause someone to shoot them while they were sleeping.”

“Detective Klem is a good guy; he’ll figure out what happened.”

“I know.” She glanced at him. “I really appreciate your help, Flynn. I feel bad I dragged you into this, but contacting you was the only option that flashed in my mind.”

“Hey, I don’t mind,” he said lightly. “Good thing I live in Greenland. I was glad to have gotten there so fast.”

“You have a house?” she asked.

“Yes, it’s small, only two bedrooms.” It was more than enough to suit his needs. Yet he also knew it would be a drastic change from the sprawling dwelling she’d lived in with the Millers. “Like I said, you can sleep in the guest room.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep without nightmares,” she confessed.

He didn’t have a good response for that. In his role as a police officer, he’d seen more than his share of violence. But that was his job, to protect and serve. Being a live-in nanny shouldn’t be dangerous.

And for sure a nanny shouldn’t be the witness of a double homicide.

A glance in the rearview mirror made him frown. Dawn was barely peeking over the horizon now that they’d fallen back from daylight saving time, but the vehicle behind him had two headlights, one slightly brighter than the other.

The same set of headlights had been behind him on the way to the police department from the Millers’ home in Brookland.

Were the cops following him for some reason? That didn’t make any sense, but he couldn’t seem to shake off the weird coincidence.

Without warning Taylor, he abruptly turned at the next light, then hit the gas, surging forward. She cried out in alarm, bracing herself with a hand on the dash.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry about that but hang on.” The vehicle with the unevenly bright headlights had made the same turn.

“Are we being followed?” Taylor’s tone was incredulous. She twisted in her seat to look behind them.

The sharp crack of gunfire had him yanking her down even as he swerved to get out of the line of fire. He cranked the wheel to cut through a gas station that was thankfully mostly empty. He hit the gas again, pulling into traffic and cutting off another driver. Ignoring the sharp blare of the guy’s horn, he drove as fast as he could, going around cars that were moving too slow.

The morning rush hour made it that much more difficult to avoid the car tailing them. Although he hoped the same would hold true for the driver of the car with uneven headlights.

Using his thumb, he activated his phone. “Call 911!”

The sound of a ringing phone filled the interior of his car. A moment later, the dispatcher answered, “This is the 911 operator, what is your emergency?”

“This is MPD Officer Flynn Ryerson. Shots fired on Blakemore Drive,” he said as he hit the brake to avoid striking another vehicle. He quickly swerved around the slow driver and then took another right-hand turn. “I’m heading west now, on 121 st Street. Get officers to this area now!”

“Please stay on the line,” the operator said calmly.

He thought he saw the uneven headlights closing the gap, so he quickly switched lanes and floored the gas, shooting through a yellow traffic signal. More horns blared, but then other cars moved into the intersection blocking the driver of the uneven headlights from following.

Flynn wasn’t listening as the 911 dispatcher continued to talk. He was too busy trying to figure out where he could take Taylor that would be safe.

Not his place and not the American Lodge in Brookland either. He wanted to be as far away from Brookland and the scene of the murders as possible.

He thought of Zeke’s house and made another abrupt turn. He felt certain his buddy wouldn’t mind his using the place while he was out of town.

Especially not once Zeke heard that he needed to keep Taylor safe from the gunman hot on their tail.