Standing Fast. Maggie K. Black

behind bars where he belonged. But if Chase was innocent, then was her faith in the team misplaced? Or was she wrong to believe the man now standing in front of her?

      Neither option was a comforting one.

      “Did you ever have anything to do with Boyd Sullivan?” she pressed. Instinctively, her hand reached for his arm. She didn’t know why. But somehow she found her fingers brushing the fabric of his uniform, as if trying to hold him in place. “Anything at all? Anything that could explain why the police think you would be helping him or hiding him in your home?”

      Chase shook his head. Then he looked down at her hand like it had been a really long time since he’d seen a woman’s fingers on his arm. His hand slid over hers, as if he was about to lead her into a party on his arm, or he was double-checking she was really there. The warmth of his touch spread through her skin. Then his clear and flawless eyes met hers again.

      They were the same shade of green as a deep cool pond on a hot Texas summer day.

      “No, ma’am,” he said. “I give you my word. I would never put Allie in danger like that. She is my entire world.”

      She believed that, right? That no matter what else she knew or didn’t know, Chase loved his little girl too much to sneak a man like Boyd Sullivan around the base and into their lives?

      A chorus of panicked shouts erupted from the playground. Queenie barked and her students screamed. Maisy pushed through the door and pelted through the classroom and toward the back door, feeling Chase just one step behind her.

      What was happening?

      Then one child’s voice rose above them all—“No! Stop! You’re hurting me!”—and Maisy knew in an instant which student the voice belonged to.

      It was Allie.