“Someone’s been calling and hanging up for over two hours. In the past thirty minutes, a black van has been slowly driving down my street without stopping.”
“You’re sure it’s the same van?” Brent asked.
A gasp. “Who are you?”
“Brent Maddox. I’m a friend of Rowan’s. Answer my question, Heather. Is it the same van?”
“Yes. It has the same red racing stripe down the side.”
“Where’s Jay?” Rowan asked. “Isn’t he home?”
“I don’t know where my husband is, like usual. I’m scared, Ro. It’s just me and Alexa here.”
“Alexa is my six-year-old niece,” Rowan murmured.
“I don’t know what to do,” Heather continued.
“Call the police,” Brent said.
“I can’t,” Heather said. “Jay wouldn’t like it.”
“He’d rather have his wife and daughter in danger than put up with the cops?” What kind of stuff was Jay into? Nothing good.
“You don’t understand,” the woman muttered. She stopped, gasped again. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
“Heather, tell us what’s happening,” Rowan demanded.
“The van is back.” Her voice shook. “It’s in the driveway.”
Brent’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Heather, listen to me. Get Alexa and leave the house through the back door right now.”
“But I don’t have a bag packed for her.”
“We’ll pick up whatever you need. Grab Alexa and get out of that house. Take your cell phone so we can communicate with you. Don’t hang up. Just slide the phone in your pocket. Move, sugar.” He made the last an order.
While the sounds of Heather racing through the house and whispering to Alexa came through the phone, he asked Rowan, “Where does she live?”
“At the edge of Davidson County. She and Jay live in the Westhaven subdivision.”
His eyebrows soared. Nice neighborhood. Really nice. “Address?” Brent took the next exit off the interstate and began working his way back to the area. Thankfully, the after-work traffic had cleared.
Over the phone, he heard a loud crash and running footsteps. Brent pressed down on the accelerator.
“Heather, what’s happening?” Rowan asked.
“No,” Heather screamed.
The interior of his SUV filled with a loud bang.
CHAPTER TWO
“Heather?” Rowan’s hand tightened around the phone, but her screen showed the call had ended. She thought about the sounds she’d heard. Had her sister knocked something over? Rowan ignored the ball of ice forming in the pit of her stomach. Something was horribly wrong at her sister’s house.
“Call her back,” Brent said as the SUV leaped forward.
The call went straight to voice mail.
Expression grim, the Fortress CEO activated his Bluetooth and called someone named Cal Taylor.
“Who is Cal Taylor?”
“A friend. We’re ten minutes away from your sister. She needs help now.”
Rowan’s gaze shifted from the screen of her phone to the man weaving in and out of traffic with a skill she envied. “What were those noises?”
“You sure you want to know?”
Bile surged into her throat. “Tell me.”
“The first sound was the door being kicked in.”
Blood drained from her face. Rowan had hoped Brent thought the noise was from Heather knocking something over in her haste to flee from her house with Alexa in her arms. “Are you sure?”
“I recognize the sound, Rowan. I’ve kicked in plenty of doors on missions over the years.”
Over the sound system, a male voice said, “Kind of busy here, Brent. What do you need?”
“A cop.”
“Hold on.” Taylor’s voice became muffled for a minute, then became clear again. “Okay, go.”
“Been on the phone with Heather….” He paused, looked at Rowan.
“Maxwell,” she supplied hastily.
“And you are?” Taylor asked.
“Rowan Scott, Heather’s sister.”
“I see. What’s going on, Brent?”
“Got a call for help. Black van with red racing stripes slowly cruising the street and repeated hang ups. While she was on the phone, someone kicked in the door and fired a weapon.”
No. Oh, no. Someone shot at her sister and Alexa. Where was that creep Jay when he was needed? Never around, she thought bitterly. Rowan had tried to warn Heather that Jay wasn’t good for her or Alexa. Now someone could have hurt them. Her brain just wouldn’t contemplate anything worse. She didn’t want to throw up in Brent’s SUV. Not a great way to impress a guy on the first date. Except now there wouldn’t be a date. Couldn’t he drive any faster?
“Address.” Taylor snapped.
Brent supplied the information as he swung onto Nolensville Road and dodged more traffic.
“I’m sending a couple prowl cars. I’ll be right behind them.”
“Tell the responding officers I might be on scene before them. I’d prefer not to be cuffed or shot in front of my date.”
A snort. “She know what you do?”
“Sort of.”
“Right. Try not to kill anybody before we get there.”
Rowan’s eyes widened. Was Taylor serious? She turned to Brent, noted the determination on his face, the air of readiness. Oh, yeah, Taylor was serious. What kind of work had Brent Maddox been assigned to in the Navy?
“Copy that. No guarantees. Thanks, buddy.”
“Yep.”
When she was sure the call had ended, Rowan said, “Heather wasn’t kidding about Jay. He’ll be livid about cops swarming his house.”
He slid her a cool look. “Doesn’t matter whether he likes the police presence or not. Any man worth the name would want his wife and child safe.”
“Jay Maxwell isn’t a good husband or father, Brent.”
His jaw flexed. “Is he abusive?”
“I don’t know.” Probably.
“But you suspect he is.”
“I haven’t seen bruises on my sister or Alexa.”
“If he is abusing Heather, Jay is smart enough to aim for places covered by clothes.”
“Heather’s fear of Jay has grown in recent months, but she wouldn’t tell me why. I can’t force Heather to leave her husband. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Brent’s hand covered hers. “You can’t guilt Heather into leaving Jay. She’ll end up going back to him which puts her and your niece in the middle of danger again.” He squeezed her hand. “You would also become a target for retaliation.”
Scary thought. Rowan avoided Jay Maxwell whenever possible. She purposely timed her visits to see her sister and Alexa when she knew her brother-in-law was out of the house. The few occasions she’d mistimed her visit, Jay had given her the
