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Authors: Carol Steward

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BOOK: Shield of Refuge
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FIFTEEN

G
arrett had a long day ahead. After questioning Amber again, she realized both the suspects fit the same description. They'd gone back through his yearbook and finally found him. He'd done as much as he could to find a current address for Anthony Melendez without access to police records. There was nothing. How could he vanish? Now it was time to have patience—something God hadn't given him enough of, apparently, because He kept testing Garrett on it.

He wanted to head over to the precinct and wait for the university police, but knew better than to push the chief. He'd been doing the stretching exercises that the physical therapist had suggested and felt like he could get back to the streets any day now.

He tried to rest, but that was futile and he knew it. He couldn't seem to get this case, or Amber Scott, off his mind. He accessed his work e-mail from home, but there wasn't much to get excited about there, either. Garrett jotted notes about Amber's description of the incident into his notepad adding in possible evidence from Samantha Taylor's notes and from the break-in at the store. He needed to be ready to push the investigation as soon as he got the word. His mind came back to the suspect. He'd gotten his aunt to e-mail him a copy of the sketch she'd done from Amber's description to connect it to Melendez's current mug shot.

Tapping the arm of the worn-down sofa, Garrett closed his eyes and walked back through time. He remembered that goofy maneuver with the handcuffs. He wondered how long it would've taken him to make the connection to Melendez had he not happened to notice his yearbooks on the shelf. He hadn't wanted to consider that they could've been dealing with a rogue officer who was on active duty.

Not that it was out of the question, since two crooked cops had tried to implicate his brother in their drug ring. Maybe Melendez had applied to the academy or to FCPD. If Garrett's report to his dad had kept Melendez from his dreams—why had he gone to the other extreme to discredit FCPD? Or maybe this was just another attempt to frame the Matthews brothers.

It wasn't long until Chief Thomas, himself, called him into the station. A half hour later, he had showered, shaved and was waiting, in uniform, hoping beyond all hopes that this would all come together quickly so they could get back to work.

The chief's secretary, Phyllis, led Garrett right into his office. “Afternoon, Garrett.”

Garrett nodded. He wasn't in the mood to make small talk. He filled the chief in on what he and Amber had found. The chief called the investigator to start looking for the suspect.

“University police have a report of a missing girl. They're getting ready to make an announcement, but with the attack on Amber Scott possibly connected, we'd better talk to them ASAP. For the record, Garrett, the mayor isn't happy, but he did admit that he was wrong.”

“What can I do?”

“If you can get the doctor to clear you, we could use your help with surveillance in the downtown area to catch Melendez. After the shooting the other night, business owners were concerned, but after what Melendez did to Amber, there's an uprising. Ms. Scott isn't the only business owner ready to go to newspapers.”

Garrett felt his lip twitch, threatening to share his personal opinion about the situation. “I'm scheduled to go for a check-up tomorrow afternoon.”

“That will do. Will you be working at the bakery tonight?”

“No, she's working from my parents' house to fill the orders she had, but until the security's set up and she's sure it's safe for customers to go back, there's no walk-in business. I don't think she'd have a problem with me working there for a few more days, if that's what you're asking,” he said, cautiously avoiding answering the chief's question directly.
Lord, help me to handle this professionally, yet without upsetting Amber, either.

The chief glanced at the same file that he'd studied the last time they'd visited. “Have you found anything else out about the incident she witnessed?”

“Just that the suspect didn't know how to use handcuffs. But the odd thing is, I was sure I'd seen someone, somewhere hold them like she described.” He demonstrated with his grandfather's cuffs. “I kept coming up empty on where I might have seen it, until last night. I realized a kid named Melendez and I were in the Explorers at the same time, until I saw him with some of the more prominent gang-bangers. I asked Dad about it, he was never there again. So if he wanted to be a cop, I can see him buying a uniform to get revenge.”

“It's so easy to buy them off the Internet now, I would have been surprised if he had picked one up locally. Detective Wang has been contacting online stores, looking for orders from this region. There's been nothing in the time period of our reports, so either he lived outside this region when he ordered it, or he bought it in a store with cash, or secondhand.”

Garrett couldn't help but consider the kind of person that would do this, and Anthony fit. He'd wanted to fit in somewhere. “Is there a pattern with the victims? I don't understand how he picked these victims. Is anyone looking at that?”

The chief smiled. “Haven't found one yet. Would you care to give it a shot?” He slid the file across the desk. “He's getting more careless, and more brazen, that I can tell you.”

He stared at the file, still cautious of the way all of this was playing out. The detectives had far more experience than he did with investigations. He wasn't sure he had any of the right theories, either.

“Kidnapping a young woman before dark right off campus definitely wasn't smart.” He read the first page of the report, dated three months ago. Nine forty-five on a Sunday evening. A high school student had been a block from home when she'd seen the police lights. She'd been too frightened to stop, and called her parents for advice. They'd advised her to calmly drive the rest of the way home and they met her outside. When she pulled to a stop in front of their house, the unmarked car drove on past the house. Though they had called the police, the suspect had disappeared before anyone from patrol had been able to make it to the area.

No description of the suspect.

Garrett looked at the address, hoping it would give them the break they needed. Flipping through the pages beneath, he found a city map where they had already started mapping the different reported incidences.

The second incident was roughly three weeks later, in the college area and involved a twenty-two-year-old student who had no cell phone when the police car, also white with a bubble light, pulled her over. The victim had become nervous when he approached the window and ordered her to get out of the vehicle. When she refused, he broke her window out with a flashlight. She had cuts and bruises from the glass and the flashlight hitting her, but she was able to put the car in gear and get away. Caucasian or Hispanic male, mustache, roughly twenty years old. Police uniform, gun, flashlight.

“Where are the suspect sketches?”

“The first victim never saw the guy. Second one couldn't give us a good enough description for Meg to release it, you've probably seen Amber's suspect….”

The third victim hadn't reported it until the next morning, when her roommate took her to the emergency room for stitches. Though she hadn't admitted to as much, likely reason she hadn't reported it was that she'd been driving while under the influence. She'd been at a party until somewhere around midnight.

Time wasn't consistent. Description similar to Amber's, if one didn't consider race, or facial hair.

She wasn't sure exactly of her location, and due to the call not coming in immediately, there had been no investigation.

He looked up at the chief and shook his head. “We should have issued a public warning long ago.”

“Even if it had gone out, there's no assurance that it would have stopped any of the reported incidences. Personal safety and police stops are discussed in all of our community safety courses.”

The fourth incident he knew far too much about, but he read the case report to see what Lieutenant Chavez had included. To his surprise, all of the information that Samantha had given him was included. So who had dropped the ball? Why had no one followed up with Amber?

There was another report of an incident that took place last night, on the north side of campus, just two blocks from Old Town. The victim had called 911 and had been advised to drive to the nearest grocery store parking lot and a marked car would meet her there. She couldn't give any information about the suspect. Something had apparently spooked him. He'd evaded the police again.

“So we have a missing student, but there's still no sign of the victim from last week?”

The chief shook his head. “At least we have a probable identity now.” He confirmed that the information he'd found matched the official report from the university police. Garrett listened, waiting for the chief to let on that he had contacted the family. If Thomas knew, he didn't let on.

“When were they last in touch with her?”

“The boyfriend was on the phone with her when the suspect made contact with her. He's taking it hard.”

“Yeah,” he said, not wanting it to be obvious that he already knew all of this.

“Her parents have been trying to get in touch with her for almost a week. She last left them a message the day before the boyfriend talked to her. Her parents pushed her to transfer here, to save money on tuition,” the chief added. “Imagine how much guilt they're feeling right now. I don't like the direction this is heading.”

Garrett liked it even less. If Amber was now a witness to a crime linked to the Texas Syndicate, that meant she, too, could have a shadow for the rest of her life. “I want twenty-four-hour protection ordered for Amber until we figure out who Melendez's accomplices are.”

The chief agreed. “Done, but under my conditions. I'm not going to try to provide protection for the entire staff and customers. If she wants to stay safe, she's going to have to keep the shop closed down until we have more information to go on.”

Garrett didn't say anything. He couldn't. He couldn't do this to Amber. He had to find another option. How could he convince her he had fallen in love with her at the same time he took her dream away? Garrett closed his eyes and prayed fervently for God's wisdom. The only scripture that came to mind was from the Book of Samuel, a prophet who, through his own trials and triumphs, was rewarded with God's blessing.
The promise of the Lord proves true; He is a shield for all those who take refuge in Him. Shield Amber from harm, Father, and let us both find a life of refuge with You.

Garrett could hear Chief Thomas moving papers, and opened his eyes.

“Somehow, I didn't think you'd like those conditions, but I think once you get past your personal feelings, you'll understand.”

“I don't understand. And she'll go for them even less.”

The chief pushed a manila envelope across the desk. “You don't have to read it now, but I think it might be of interest. You can keep it.”

Garrett turned the envelope over and noticed it was sealed. He tried to focus on the impersonator case, but everything had changed.

He'd fallen in love. And he would do everything within his power to protect the woman that God had brought into his life.

“Last night's victim,” Garrett managed to say, “How old was she and what time did the incident happen?”

They discussed more facts and more theories for another hour, until Garrett could hardly stand the thought of Amber in her shop, any time of day with anyone. After they finished, Garrett changed into his street clothes, keeping his bulletproof vest on. He placed his weapon and an additional couple of magazines of ammunition in his duty bag. If he was going to be coming and going at all hours downtown, he was going to be prepared.

SIXTEEN

A
mber left a message for Garrett two hours ago. Now that security had been fixed, she hated to take this mess to his parents' house. She was far too behind and far too tired to let herself be distracted. She only had a few more to finish after Nick and Sarah had needed to leave.

She needed to talk to God about what He had in mind, throwing her and Garrett together. Now, of all times, when he was applying for special-agent jobs, and she was working sixteen hours a day trying to build her business. She'd prayed for Garrett's recovery, about her feelings for Garrett and now it was time to pray that she could let him go before they got too involved. They had to be realistic.

Heavenly Father, I beg You to take this confusion away. I don't know how I can love Garrett so soon. Sweet, loveable, protective men like him don't go for girls like me. He's a take-the-bull-by-the-horns kind of guy, and I'm a bossy oldest child who has trouble taking orders. Or accepting advice. Even from those who mean well.
“I don't care about an uptown shop with a fancy showroom,” she said softly. “I'm happy here in Nana's shop, God. I don't want to have a security service watching my doors, seeing who is coming and going, but right now, I'm very thankful to have them.”

She filled her cake-decorating bag with pink royal icing, then moved to the sofa with a tray in front of her. The pastel hibiscus were flowers made from royal icing and would take a day or two to dry, and time was getting short. After loosely forming the foil square to the flower nail, she spun the nail into position between her thumb and her forefinger. She squeezed the bag and moved the rose tip up and down the bowl of the nail, quivering slightly to give the edge the ruffled look of a natural flower. She added the candied stamens and set it on the cookie sheet to dry.

Her mind returned again and again to Garrett, and how to tell him about her past. How to tell him it was over between them. Or more to the point, how to prepare herself for that reality. She went back and forth, just like the repetitive motions of making flowers for the wedding cake. A pastel wedding in the mountains, right before Thanksgiving.

She shook her head, wishing she hadn't sent Nick and Sarah away until she'd heard from Garrett. She was getting worried that he hadn't called back. She hoped Melendez hadn't found him this time.

It was for the best, she kept telling herself. They'd been attracted to each other since their vehicles had collided. This couldn't be anything more than a reaction to the stress, guilt and physical attraction. They had to put some distance between them, she tried to convince herself.

The business phone rang, and Amber heaved a sigh of relief. The last thing she felt like doing tonight was going out and trying to enjoy herself. She had too many details to finish for this big wedding, she reminded herself as she picked up the phone.

She knew he'd call, and she was ready to argue that she was fine. Unfortunately, it was Rachelle, and her best friend wasn't in the mood to be put off. After talking about the kids, her husband, and the added stress of the holidays, she asked, “Have you heard the public announcement?”

“Yeah, I did,” she said hesitantly. With their vacation, Amber hadn't wanted to worry them with her crises.

“I'm wondering what happened to make them decide to release the information,” Rachelle said.

Amber moved the speaker phone closer so she could work and talk. “Garrett insisted the mayor didn't want them to make it public, so Garrett did a little digging and made contact with her family.” Then Amber told Rachelle what had happened to her.

“Are you okay with him being a cop? He seems like a nice guy,” she said, expressing her concern with Amber for staying at the store alone.

Amber assured her it was safe again, and the police were watching out for her, thanks to Garrett.

Amber bit her lip and the happiness spread, just hearing that her friend liked what she'd heard about Garrett. “He is a really nice guy, but I know he's trying to get a job with the FBI or one of those federal agencies. The last thing he needs is someone holding him back. He's a good officer, but I don't think I'd be able to take the stress.”

“Don't give up without talking to Garrett, Amber. Hand it to God and give it a chance. Maybe you can get him to come to church Sunday. If you really care for him, you need to compromise. God will take care of the rest. I'd like to meet him,” Rachelle said.

Amber could hear the smile in her friend's voice. “This is just because of the case,” she said, trying to prepare herself for that fact. Sure, he'd been comforting after the attack, but sooner or later, it would come down to facing reality. He had dreams that didn't go along with hers.

They talked for a long time while she worked on the flowers for the cake.

“I guess we'll see, but he seems pretty serious. I mean, you're practically part of his family now!”

“They are as easy to love as he is, honestly.”

Rachelle laughed. “See? You need to give it a chance!”

Amber explained that she needed to tell Garrett about her police record, before things got any more involved. It helped to say the words aloud, to hear her friend finally support her reasoning.

An hour later, she'd covered every pan she had in the family-size kitchen with pastel flowers and set them on every available table and seat to dry, and she still had another color left to make. Amber thanked Rachelle for making a long, quiet afternoon go quicker. They said goodbye, and Amber again wondered what was keeping Garrett.

It was only five o'clock. She may as well make the last color of royal icing and know they were all ready. Dumping powdered sugar, dried egg whites and water into the home-size professional mixer, she cranked it up, then left it to whip for ten minutes. She took a deep breath and felt the stitches on her jaw, reminding her that God did answer her prayers.

She turned on the radio and, almost immediately, the public announcement came on. The police advised women to be extra cautious and on the lookout for a police impersonator. They included a description of the car and the man. They even went so far as to advise anyone who was suspicious of being stopped by an unmarked car in a dark secluded area to call 911 from their cellular phone or, if they didn't have a phone, to cautiously drive to a busy location before stopping. If it was a legitimate officer, they would be patient and support that action. It all sent chills up Amber's spine.
Trust God. Let Him handle it.

She switched to a radio station that played praise music and went to look out the window. A light snow was falling. She noticed an SUV like his parents' drive past and felt the loneliness sink in again.

“That's ridiculous,” she whispered. “It couldn't be Garrett. He had to have gotten my message. He would have called by now.” She twisted the shade closed again and tried to focus on the music as she got ready to sit and finish the last batch of flowers. She moved some of the trays to the bed so she'd have room to bring another tray up from the shop. She hurried down the stairs, into the bakery kitchen and grabbed one of the giant cake pans to store the next batch in.

The phone rang again, and she didn't want to get her hopes up again. She stared at the phone with fear, remembering the heavy breather who had called her before the attack. “Parties…”

“It's Garrett,” he interrupted.

“Hi,” she said, relieved. The feeling of warmth spread. “Is that you that I saw drive by?”

He laughed. “I wasn't sure if you were still here. Nick has been watching out as he patrols. I waited to call until I saw lights. I know you said you want some space, but there's something I need to talk to you about. I'm out front, if you have a few minutes.”

“Yeah, we do need to talk. I'm in the kitchen, so I'll be right there to let you in.” She set the receiver on the hook and grabbed the key from under the counter.

She disarmed the new security system, then opened the door and hurried him inside. “I've got royal icing mixing upstairs. It should be ready. Come on up after you've locked the door. The alarm will go back on automatically in sixty seconds. You know where the coat hook is and where the key goes, right?”

“Yep,” he said as he took off his coat and shook the snowflakes from the parka. She turned and ran up to her apartment.

 

He turned the key to lock the deadbolt and watched her disappear with a cake pan in her hands. “And I suspect I'm going to learn where you keep a lot more of your supplies before long,” he said, to himself, he realized. She was long gone.

He hung the key on the hook under the counter and walked through the immaculate kitchen, appreciating how much effort it had taken to get it that way.

He turned the corner to head up the stairs, a sweet aroma smacked him in the face.

Sugar. How could it smell any sweeter than a bakery did every day?

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing her apartment with trays of pink and lavender and yellow and soft blue candy flowers all over. “What happened in here?” He looked around the room again. “It looks like Easter eggs exploded all over.”

She looked at the mess and smiled wryly. “Flowers for the wedding cake this weekend.”

“You actually make them?” There was barely room to walk. “I guess I assumed bakeries bought them from a flower supplier or someone.”

Amber bit her lip, struggling to hold on to the happiness. “You can buy them, but I am a professional cake decorator,” she said.

“Interesting choice for a November wedding, isn't it? That is, according to Sarah and my sister. It seems like I just keep hearing discussions of weddings these days.”

She laughed. “I agree with them, but I couldn't change Maya's mind. They didn't decide to get married until a couple of months ago, and didn't want to wait until spring. But Easter is her favorite holiday.”

Garrett chuckled.

“I hope it works, or I'm going to be storing a lot of flowers. At least they store well, so I can have them on hand for summer weddings.”

“Now I know why my mom always bought our cakes here. The flowers look so real.” No matter how light the conversation, Garrett could feel the tension between them. He blamed himself for moving so quickly, before their friendship had fully developed.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at her. He couldn't stall anymore. “We need to talk, Amber.”

For a long moment Amber looked back at him, then returned the decorating bag to the counter and covered it with a wet cloth. “Yes. We do,” she said, leaning one hip against the counter. “I wondered why it took you so long to call back.”

He nodded. “The chief and I had a lot to discuss. That, and a few other things. He gave me an unexpected file to read. Yours.”

Her smile faded, a slow, painful evaporation of sweet beauty. “If you don't mind, I need to keep working, this frosting dries rock hard, and…”

“What can I do to help?”

She stared awkwardly at him, frozen in place. “You're staying?”

“Unless you want me to leave. I just got here, but if you don't want to talk…” He stared back, determined to keep his distance. Nothing was going to be accomplished if they couldn't talk through difficult issues like these. He held his breath, worried that she was going to send him away.

She grabbed her supplies, walked over to the sofa and started working away. “Actually, it's rather frightening the way God works. I was just wondering how to ask if you had seen my police record….”

“I hadn't, until my meeting with the chief today.”

She paused, the frosting heaping into a blob on the spindle in her hand. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed that you'd check me out first….”

He shrugged. “I wouldn't be the first officer to fall for a bad girl.” He smiled, noting that she didn't laugh at his humor. “I'm joking.”

“I warned you that I wasn't the girl of your dreams,” she said, going about her business. “But then again, your major objective was to keep me out of the way, wasn't it?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Amber acted like she didn't hear—which he might have considered if she wasn't breathing faster than normal. She poked the foil squares into several cups of the nail-looking things and eased the flaps over the edge, then filled each with frosting petals and carefully pulled them off the nail and set them in the cake pan and added the stamens. “It means I should've known better than to trust a cop. I'm just an assignment to you.”

“You're not
just
an assignment to me,” he said firmly. “If I didn't care for you, Amber, I wouldn't be here to discuss this. I wouldn't have come back to help you. If you were
just
an assignment, I would've let the surveillance team handle your safety from here on out. I'd have come and interrupted your workday. I'm here because I
don't
want this to end up just an assignment.”

Raw pain showed in her eyes, her actions, even her smile. “Haven't I messed up your life enough, Garrett?”

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