Flynn (Oath of Honor #8)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Everything caught up with her in one fell swoop. Taylor was exhausted, emotionally and physically. It was all too much. The attacks against her flashed in her mind, one after the other like snippets from a movie reel. Hearing the pop, pop, pop, pop . The gunman walking past the bedroom door, then playing his flashlight across the room. The gunman taking shots at their SUV after leaving the Brookland Police Department, then finding them at the rental property and forcing them to drive through the garage door to escape. The boat incident on Peabody Lake, suffering hypothermia and nearly drowning.

And lastly the shooting outside the FBI building.

Worst of all, the knowledge that this all started with the brutal murders of her second cousins, Steve and Robin Miller, along with her cousin Roman Paulson. The DNA link was disturbing in more ways than one.

It all came back to her family being involved. Distant family, maybe, but still family. Why, Lord, why?

There was no answer from above.

“Taylor, please don’t cry.” A warm hand rested on her shoulder. She belatedly realized Flynn had come into the room to find her.

She struggled to pull herself together. It wasn’t easy. The dam holding back her tears had opened, and she couldn’t figure out how to slam it shut.

“I’m here. You’re safe. I promise I’ll do everything possible to keep you safe.” His voice sounded tortured, as if he was just as upset.

Somehow, she managed to stop crying. She took one breath, then another, slowing her breathing to the point where she could speak. “I know that.” Her voice was muffled against the pillow, so she said it again, louder this time. “I know that.” She wiped her face with the pillowcase, then lifted her head. “It’s been a long day.”

“Too long,” he agreed, smoothing his hand down her back in a sweet gesture. “But please don’t give up hope.”

A Bible verse from the book of Psalms flashed in her mind from her last church service. Something about hope. What was it? For in thee, OLord, do Ihope: thou wilt hear, O Lord my God (Psalms 38:15).

Amazingly, a sense of peace washed over her. She and Flynn were not alone in this nightmare. Here on earth they had support from the Finnegans, Doug Bridges, Cassidy, and other members of the tactical team who were determined to protect them.

But over and above that, they had God with them. She felt the Lord’s presence now more than ever before.

She swallowed hard and nodded. Then she sat all the way up, moving over to give Flynn room to sit on the edge of the bed beside her. “I haven’t given up hope. I just—lost it for a minute. Everything that has taken place of the last few hours weighed down on me to the point I suddenly felt overwhelmed.”

“That’s understandable.” A frown furrowed his brow. “I hate knowing how badly I’m failing you.”

“You’re not.” She drummed up a weak smile. “You’ve been great. Truly.”

“Says the woman who was sobbing her heart out a minute ago,” he said with a wry grimace.

She reached over to take his hand. “I’m fine. Thanks to you, Flynn. The way you threw yourself over me when the gunfire rang out? That was true courage.”

He tucked a strand of her blond hair behind her ear. “It was instinct, not courage. I’m trained to put myself in harm’s way. Any of my teammates would have done the same thing.”

She knew it was more than skill and training. Maybe all cops reacted like that instinctively. Yet, she knew Flynn would protect her with his life. No matter what. She managed a smile. “Maybe I lost focus for a minute, as the situation outside the FBI building hit hard, but I know God is watching over us. With the Lord’s help, we’ll get through this.”

He nodded slowly, his green eyes intent as their gazes caught and held. In a nanosecond, the atmosphere in the room changed. A keen awareness abruptly sizzled in the air between them. She found herself leaning closer, even as he did the same, dropping his head so that their mouths met halfway.

His kiss was tentative at first, but then deepened as he drew her close. The synapses in her brain went haywire, and everything faded except for Flynn.

His strength. His warmth. His woodsy scent. And the way he kissed her as if he’d never get enough.

A feeling she shared wholeheartedly.

She slipped her arms around his waist, turning into his embrace. Being with Flynn like this was amazing, and she wanted nothing more than to sit there kissing him forever.

But, of course, that was impossible. It seemed like mere seconds had passed when there was a sharp knock on the door. She wanted to pretend she didn’t hear it, but then the knock came again.

“Flynn? Taylor? Everything all right?” Cassidy asked.

Flynn abruptly ended their kiss at the sound of Cassidy’s voice. The way his breath came unevenly made her feel good to know she wasn’t the only one impacted from their embrace.

She wanted to pull him in for another kiss, but he glanced toward the door.

“Fine,” Flynn said gruffly. He cleared his throat, then added, “Everything is fine. Be out in a sec.”

She ducked her head, hiding a smile. He continued holding her for a long moment, then reluctantly released her. “I need to get back out there to discuss our next steps.”

“I understand.” The reality of the situation was sobering. This wasn’t the time to be kissing Flynn. Not when there was a professional hit man with ties to the Russian Mafia set on killing her. Running her fingers through her hair, she rose to her feet. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Flynn’s smile was sweet. “Take your time.”

She ducked into the bathroom, nearly groaning out loud when she saw how awful she looked. No pretty crying for her, the way actresses in movies looked so beautiful when they were emotionally distraught. Her nose was red, her eyes puffy and swollen. Her hair was a tangled mess and damp from her tears.

Why on earth had Flynn kissed her?

Or had she kissed him?

She felt certain she wasn’t alone in feeling the attraction between them, but Flynn had been quick to pull away. As if he did not want Cassidy to know how close they’d gotten.

Whatever. It didn’t matter. Shaking her head at her foolishness, she splashed cold water on her face. Then she took a moment to press a washcloth soaked in cold water against her eyes. After blowing her nose and drying her face, she looked in the mirror, relieved she looked better. Not great, but not as bad as before.

Note to self , she thought with a sigh, no more crying.

The truth was she didn’t normally lose control like that. Obviously, what she’d been through over the past—what, fourteen hours?—were far from normal circumstances. Most nannies took care of kids without catching a glimpse of a professional hit man leaving the scene of a double homicide while protecting the children under their care.

She still felt sick remembering how close she and Max had come to being killed that night. If she hadn’t texted Flynn when she had, if he hadn’t called 911 on her behalf and broken speed records to get there...

Best not to think about it. She was alive and so was Max. She wanted to see the baby for herself once this was over to make sure he was okay.

But that would only happen once the danger was over.

As she emerged from the bedroom, Flynn, Cassidy, Doug, and Brady all glanced at her. She did her best to smile as she crossed over to sit on the sofa between Flynn and Cassidy. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

There was a brief moment of silence before Brady took the lead. He and Doug were sitting at the small kitchen table, facing them. Brady gave her a slight nod as he spoke. “Rhy is on his way, so we’re waiting to take action until he gets here to see what he thinks. We’ve gone through the shooting incident again, but I need to ask you if there’s anything you can tell us about that?”

“Me?” She echoed in surprise. She glanced at Flynn, then shook her head. “I’m sorry but no. I heard the gunfire, then Flynn was pushing me to the ground, covering me.” She thought back for a moment. “I didn’t see anything suspicious before that.”

Brady nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “I had to ask, just in case you noticed something small that we didn’t. None of us caught a glimpse of the shooter either. Although I’m certain it’s the same one you have already identified, Nickoli Yurgis.” He shrugged. “At this point, we’ve decided against using one of the FBI safe houses, so it looks like we’re stuck with either motels or rental properties.”

She nodded, knowing Flynn was likely the one who’d nixed the idea of using an FBI safe house. The agents who’d interviewed her had been respectful and came across as good cops intent on finding the shooter.

But she also understood that Flynn was unwilling to trust anyone outside of the Finnegan and tactical team family. Doug Bridges being the sole exception.

“Nothing yet on the company that owns the house on Peabody Lake?” she asked. Her gaze darted from Brady to Doug Bridges. Both men wore somber expressions as if they were feeling the magnitude of the shooting outside the FBI building too. “Your tech guy was going to work on that, right?”

“Yes, Ian is digging into the ownership of the corporation,” Doug said with a nod. “I know he’ll be in touch the minute he finds anything.”

“I also left Gabe a message,” Flynn added. “He’s working on identifying those involved in forming the company too.”

“They’re both talented guys,” Brady said. “I’m sure they’ll find something useful.”

Should, could, hopefully... she tried not to feel depressed about the lack of progress on the case. Everyone was working hard. It wasn’t that they weren’t trying.

Yet deep down, she felt sick. If the FBI and the local police couldn’t find the shooter, who could?

Flynn avoided Cass’s knowing gaze. He didn’t like to think the fact that he’d been kissing Taylor was written all over his face, but the way she’d eyed him suspiciously convinced him it must be obvious.

If someone cared to look.

Thankfully, the guys were more concerned with the case and the task of protecting Taylor. She didn’t look very happy to hear they didn’t have much of anything to go on. And he couldn’t blame her.

He’d hoped they’d have identified a solid plan by now. Part of that was waiting for Rhy to get there.

“I think we should stay away from motels that have been associated with the tactical team or the feds,” Brady said. He waved a hand at the room. “That means moving out of here sooner than later.”

“And go where?” Flynn demanded. “We tried a rental house secured under Gabe’s name, but that didn’t work. If we can’t use federal resources or local cop resources, how are we going to arrange for a place to stay?”

“I don’t know,” Brady admitted. “I’m trying to think of someone we know well enough that would pay for a place under their name but who also wouldn’t be obviously connected to us.”

“My younger half sister can do it,” Doug said. “She lives out of state in Jackson, Wyoming, and her last name is Sanders. Emily Sanders.”

“Really?” Flynn stared at Bridges. “You don’t mind asking her for a favor?”

Doug shrugged. “Of course not. She won’t mind and knows I’ll pay her back once this is over.”

“We’ll pay you back,” Flynn swiftly added. “Don’t worry about that. This isn’t your fight, it’s ours. And thank you, I really appreciate the offer.”

Brady’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “This is Rhy.” He stood and moved to a quiet corner of the room. “Hey, bro. How did it go?”

Flynn thought about Doug Bridges’s half sister arranging a rental house for them. Unless Rhy could get them into the MPD safe house, that was their best option. He glanced at Taylor who looked encouraged by the plan too.

Although keeping Taylor safe was only half the battle. They really needed something more than just the gunman to connect the three murders of Steve and Robin Miller and Roman Paulson.

The house on Peabody Lake was key. If they could figure out who owned it, then they’d be one step closer to unraveling the case.

Or so he hoped. As much as he hated to admit it, police work was rarely that easy.

“Okay, Rhy is parking in the back of the hotel,” Brady announced. “I’ll go let him in.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Rhy and Brady returned. Rhy looked on edge, and Flynn had a bad feeling his meeting with Michaels didn’t go as well as Rhy had hoped.

“Everything okay?” Flynn asked.

Rhy grimaced. “Yeah, nothing new.” He waved a hand as if the meeting with the upper brass was nothing to be concerned about. “I’ll survive.”

“We’re here for you,” Flynn said. “I know you stick your neck out for us on a regular basis. Whatever you need, we’ll do our part.”

Rhy managed a smile as he dropped into the chair Brady had vacated. “I know, thanks. Okay, on to bigger issues. How on earth did our gunman, Yurgis, find you outside the FBI building?”

“There are only two viable scenarios,” Flynn said. “Either someone within the FBI is a part of this mess and on the payroll or the gunman assumed the feds would want to talk to Taylor, so he camped out there and waited for us.”

Rhy scowled. “I don’t know if this guy is smart enough to stake the place out.”

“We spoke to SAC Donovan; he doesn’t think any of the agents are involved,” Brady said. “But you know how that goes. He’ll need some sort of evidence indicating that before he’ll take that possibility seriously.”

“Even though he already knows what happened back when Roscoe and Libby were hiding from the cartel?” Flynn asked. “That someone high up in the DEA was involved?”

Brady frowned. “You’re thinking Donovan is the mole?”

“I didn’t say that,” Flynn protested. “But after what went down back in July, your boss should be more open to the possibility of someone operating against us from the inside.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone considered that. Then Doug spoke up. “If you want me to call my sister to make the arrangements for another rental property, I need to do that soon. She’s a nurse and sometimes works night shift. If she’s sleeping, she won’t answer the phone, but she’ll return my call when she wakes up.”

“Your sister?” Rhy looked surprised. “All this time we’ve been working together, and I never knew you had family in the area.”

“She lives in Jackson, Wyoming,” Doug said. “Her last name is different from mine, which should give us the anonymity we need.” He held up his phone. “I’ll make some calls if you’re on board with that plan.”

Rhy nodded. “Unfortunately, the MPD safe house is still in use. And after hearing about the shooting at the FBI office, I’m loathe to use anything with MPD or FBI connections. A rental property secured under your sister’s name sounds like a good option.”

“Great. I’ll see what I can do.” Doug moved away to make the calls. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long. “Thanks, Em. If you can find a house in the Brookland or Greenland area, that would be great. Talk to you soon.” He turned back to face them. “Emily is searching for viable options.”

“Why did you tell her to focus on Brookland and Greenland?” Cassidy asked.

Doug shrugged. “I keep going back to how the president and CEO of the Brookland Bank was shot and killed. He must be the key to all of this.”

A strange thought occurred to Flynn. “Even if Taylor hadn’t been at the house as a witness to the murders, a bank president shot in his bed at night is sure to garner attention. Specifically from the feds if they think there’s international money fraud involved.” He glanced from Taylor to Cassidy, back to Rhy and Brady. “I don’t understand why the killer didn’t at least try to make their deaths look like an accident.”

“That’s a good question. Maybe Steve Miller was set up to take the fall,” Rhy said thoughtfully. “Plus, accidents have a way of backfiring. Either someone sees something they shouldn’t or the accident doesn’t kill the target outright as planned.”

“But that line of thinking does lead us back to someone within the FBI being involved,” Cassidy said. “The goal may have been for the guy on the inside to make sure the investigation doesn’t get solved.”

Brady leaned against the counter, pursing his lips. “I hate thinking someone I work with is involved in this. I’ve been there for years and can’t imagine anyone stooping so low. As long as we are considering all options, though, I feel the need to point out that if my boss, Donovan, is the bad guy, he might know about Doug’s sister.”

“Maybe not,” Flynn said. “I had considered that possibility too. Doug works for the DEA, right? That’s a different division of the federal government.”

“True, but they’re all housed in our building,” Brady said. “And Donovan has access to our personal records.”

That gave him pause. He glanced at Doug, who shrugged. “Up to you. Although I don’t know of anyone else who can do the rental for us.”

Flynn didn’t know of anyone else they could use either. He’d thought briefly about asking Sienna’s new manager to assist, but the incident last month when Zeke was shot and injured was all over the news, so he decided against that. Who else? His family lived up in Green Bay, but he didn’t want to put them in danger either.

“I don’t have any reason not to trust my boss,” Brady said, breaking the long silence. “Back when my son was kidnapped, he was supportive of me and the other agents working the case. He’s never so much as taken a paper clip from the Bureau and always comes across as dedicated to upholding the law.” Brady spread his hands wide. “I wouldn’t even be going down this path except for the way you mentioned the situation with Roscoe. We’d be foolish not to admit that anything is possible.”

Flynn glanced at Taylor who had been quietly listening. “This impacts you the most, what would you like to do?”

She glanced around the room for a moment. Then sighed. “I don’t know what we should do. It would be nice to stay here, but if that’s not an option, then I think we should go along with heading to a rental property financed by Doug’s sister, Emily.” She hesitated, then added, “Honestly, if that doesn’t work, then I’m not sure what will.”

That gave them all pause. Because she was right. They really didn’t know who exactly they were dealing with. Other than a professional hit man with ties to the Russian Mafia.

Was this related to political corruption? Money laundering? Or something else completely?

There was no way to narrow things down so they could focus the investigation on a specific issue. Not without knowing who owned the house on Peabody Lake.

And what if any connection did that person have with Taylor’s cousins? Were they just friends? Colleagues?

Business partners?

No, the latter was too obvious. One guy killing off his business partners leaving him with all the assets would place him at the top of the suspect list. There had to be something else at play here.

What he wasn’t sure.

Lack of sleep and nonstop thoughts of the case were making his head hurt. He was about to ask how soon they could get out of there when Bridges’s phone rang.

“Hey, Em,” Doug said, after lifting his phone to his ear. “Did you find something for me?”

The room fell silent as Doug listened and jotted notes.

“Great, thanks. We’ll head there in an hour.” Doug slipped the phone into his pocket. “Emily found a house in Greenland, directly across the street from the park. We can check in after four p.m.”

“Good. I like the location near the park,” Flynn said.

“Once we get you and Taylor situated in the rental property, I think Brady and I should drive past the Millers’ home,” Rhy said. “I can’t lie, it bothers me that the murders happened so close to the homestead.”

“You’re not the target,” Brady said. “But I get that Brookland doesn’t see that level of criminal activity.”

A hint of movement passed by the window to Flynn’s right. For some reason, he jumped off the sofa and crossed the room, his weapon in his hand before he realized he’d drawn it.

“What’s wrong?” Rhy quickly joined him, also holding his weapon. “Is someone out there?”

Flynn stood to the side and lifted the edge of the curtain to see better. This side of the suite overlooked the parking lot. He told himself he was overreacting, and when he peered out, he didn’t see anyone.

Because he was hiding? There weren’t that many places out there to avoid being seen, except for the smattering of cars in the lot.

“I think we should get Taylor out of here,” he said. “Maybe it’s nothing, but I don’t want to take any more chances.”

“We can’t check into the rental yet,” Doug said. “But I’m fine with getting out of here. We can take the scenic route out to Greenland.”

“Stay with me, Taylor,” Cassidy said, drawing Taylor off the sofa. Taylor glanced at him with fear in her eyes. “We’ll cover you on the way outside.”

“I’ll go first,” Doug said. “Brady, you bring Taylor, Flynn, and Cassidy. Rhy, you cover us from behind. All good?”

“Yep. Let’s blow this pop stand,” Brady said.

Doug opened the door, looked up and down the hall, then stepped out of the room. Brady went next. Flynn followed, indicating Taylor should stay behind him. Cassidy hovered behind her, leaving Rhy to cover their backs.

In single file, they made their way to the rear exit. Doug indicated they should stay back as he pushed open the door.

The sound of gunfire sent Doug and the rest of them down to the ground.

The movement passing their suite window hadn’t been his imagination after all.