sped up. All it would take was an effective block. Yes, he’d innocently pull up between her and the men and play out his role of night janitor by warning them to leave the premises due to the fire alarm.
He stopped the truck, got out and motioned for Jenna to get down.
Instead, she whipped out a canister of pepper spray.
Matt put out one hand in surrender and pointed around the corner with his other hand.
Her green eyes widened.
He motioned for her to stay low, and then went around the back of his truck to confront the men.
But there was only one guy. Not good. Where was the other perp?
“Get away from the building!” Matt shouted. He had to play his part, although his navy blue custodian’s uniform should make it clear who he was.
“My wife is in there!” the guy, midforties, wearing a knit ski cap, shouted.
Yeah, his wife.
“Have to wait for the all clear from the fire department!” Matt shouted.
The man nodded and turned away. Good, an easy fix.
Then Knit Cap Guy snapped around and took a swing at Matt. He dodged the blow and slugged the man in the stomach. He doubled over, coughing. With fisted hands, Matt readied himself for another assault.
The wail of sirens grew louder. The perp jumped to his feet and took off. Matt the FBI agent would chase after him; Matt the janitor would not.
He went back to the other side of the truck to help Jenna.
But she was gone.
He scanned the playground, the surrounding woods, the nearby parking lot. Knit Cap Guy’s partner couldn’t have gotten to her in the thirty seconds that Matt had been engaged in a fistfight.
Matt needed to find her, protect her.
He climbed into his truck to get his weapon and slammed the door.
A squeak echoed from the back seat.
He froze as he reached for the glove box and spun around. The little boy was sucking on a pacifier, eyes wide and curious, clutching a white stuffed animal.
“Are they gone?” Jenna said from the seat directly behind Matt.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. It seemed like her eyes had grown a brighter shade of green since he’d seen her earlier this evening.
“I think so,” he said. “The little boy, is he Mrs. McFadden’s?”
“Yes. I promised to protect him.”
She studied Matt as if trying to make out his character, figure out whether he was good or bad. A little of both, he mused.
She needed good right now, very good, and committed. Which wasn’t Matt. He wished it could be different. There was something about Jenna North that always made him smile. It was her way with staff members—with everyone, come to think of it. She was gentle and kind, yet persuasive enough to get the job done. The Broadlake Foundation thrived in part because of her fund-raising efforts that supported the operating budget.
He hoped she knew nothing about the cartel’s money-laundering scheme, that she was only an innocent bystander.
“My friend, Mrs. McFadden, she...” Jenna’s voice trailed off.
He waited.
“She’s dead.”
Yes, Matt knew because he’d seen it happen.
And now, because she’d also witnessed the homicide, Miss North’s life was in danger, as was the child’s. Anger simmered in his chest. This couldn’t be his problem, not today. He’d get Miss North and the child to safety and get back to his assignment.
Acting like the innocent bystander she assumed he was, Matt said, “We should report this.”
“To whom? The police? They’re involved.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Chief Billings killed Chloe.”
Great, not only had she been asked to protect the child, but she knew of the chief’s involvement. This put her life at an even higher risk.
“Matthew, may I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you keep this between us, that you helped me, that I have Eli?”
“Only if you’ll do me a favor in return.”
“What?”
He had no choice but to protect her. She was in too deep. “Stay here until I deal with the fire department. Once they’re gone, I’ll come back and give you a ride to wherever you want to go. Okay?”
“Thank you, but my car isn’t far.”
“They’ll probably be watching your car, right?”
She nibbled her lower lip for a second, an adorable gesture. He snapped his attention out the front window of his truck to the parking lot in the distance.
“I guess you’re right,” she said. “But...you should know that helping me could get you into trouble.”
“I’m okay with that.” Matt offered her the truck keys. “If I’m not back in twenty, take off.”
He flung open the door and headed for the front of the building. He half expected to encounter the two perps, maybe even the chief, but they were nowhere in sight.
The glass windows on one of the community center doors had been shattered, which must be how the men had gained access to the building.
Motioning to the fire response crew, Matt led them inside. They spread out, looking for smoke. A fireman turned off the alarm and nodded at Matt. “Are you the night custodian?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please wait outside until we clear the building.”
Matt did as he was ordered and called the police. He had to. It would look suspicious if he didn’t alert the authorities to the break-in. As he was making the call, a squad car and the chief’s car pulled into the lot.
A patrolman Matt recognized as Kyle Armstrong exited his squad car. Chief Billings and Kyle approached Matt.
You’re only the janitor, he reminded himself.
“I was just calling you guys,” Matt said.
“Hey, Matt,” Kyle greeted him.
“You two know each other?” Billings asked.
“We attend the same church,” Kyle said by way of explanation.
Church was no doubt a foreign concept to a guy like Billings. A dirty cop. A killer.
“This is Matt Weller, the night custodian,” Kyle introduced.
Billings extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Matt. Have any idea who pulled the alarm?”
“No, sir. Apparently some guy broke in.” He pointed toward the broken window.
“Some guy? Not mischievous teens?” Billings asked.
Matt opted for sticking to the truth as much as possible. “No, it was a man, sir.” He looked directly at Billings, whose eye twitched ever so slightly.
“Can you describe him?” Kyle asked, pulling out a small notebook.
“About five-ten, a hundred and eighty pounds.” He directed the rest of his answer to Kyle. “He wore a black leather jacket and knit cap. I’m thinking he was pushing forty?”
“Wow, how close did you get to this guy?” Kyle asked.
“Pretty close. He took a swing