out of here. Now!
Thankfully, she’d been sleeping in a pair of thick stretch pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Yanking a sweatshirt over her head wasted a precious moment, but then she quickly made her way over to the window. The sash lifted easily enough, but removing the storm window was difficult. Willing her fingers not to shake, she finally managed to pry the window out of the frame.
She threw her leg over the sill. At eighteen weeks along, she was still fairly flexible, but she couldn’t help worrying the short drop would somehow harm her baby. Halfway out the window, she heard the bedroom door bang open.
No!
She tumbled to the ground at the same time she heard two muffled bangs. Something whizzed past her head.
He was shooting at her!
Her ankle twisted as she landed hard, but she ignored the throbbing pain as she sprinted through the cold winter night, crossing the snow-covered ground in order to reach the protective shadows of the evergreen trees behind the safe house.
Lord, keep me and my baby safe in Your care!
The prayer helped her to remain calm. Where should she go? She needed to call for help, either Detective Monique Barclay or FBI agent Marc Callahan, but didn’t dare stop long enough to use her phone. She had to assume the gunman had followed her footprints in the snow to the small wooded area. From there, the bare areas on the ground around the trees helped hide her trail.
What if the intruder wasn’t alone? Her chest squeezed with fear at the thought of others being somewhere outside, lying in wait for her.
She reached the shelter of a cluster of trees along the edge of the property, but kept going, stepping carefully to avoid leaving footprints. Her breath created puffs of condensation that she feared the gunman might be able to see, so she lifted the edge of her sweatshirt to cover her mouth.
The house where she’d been staying was located at a quiet and secluded dead-end street. Hugging the shadows, she made her way around to the front of the house. There was a policeman sitting in a squad car outside the house. If she could get to him, he’d be able to drive them to safety and call for backup.
Kari took cover behind a huge oak tree, pausing for a moment to catch her breath. From her position she could see the police car parked beside the curb. She frowned, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rising in alarm. The vehicle looked empty, no shadow indicating a person was seated behind the wheel. No sign of condensation on the windows, either. Where was Officer Wallace? Was he outside making rounds?
Or had something happened to him?
Kari swallowed hard and stepped softly through the brush, going from one tree to the next in a direction far from the so-called safe house. She needed to keep moving. To get as far away from the gunman as possible.
She stumbled and fell to her knees. The cold, wet snow made damp patches on her pants. A sob rose in the back of her throat, but she relentlessly pushed herself upright, wiping her snowy hands on her hips. She swept her gaze over the area, searching for someplace to hide.
The sound of a branch snapping in half echoed through the night, spurring her into action. There was a shed up ahead, but that hiding spot was too obvious. She needed something better.
But what?
She crossed several more backyards in a zigzag pattern, choosing those that were already trampled with kid-sized footprints. She lost track of how many blocks she’d passed when she saw it. A long rope ladder dangling from a thick tree branch. Tipping her head back, she noticed there was a small tree house made out of mismatched wood, nestled in the branches.
Without giving herself time to change her mind, she grabbed the rope and quickly ascended the swaying ladder to the platform of the tree house. Once she was safely inside, she pulled up the ladder behind her, hoping and praying that if the assailant went past, he wouldn’t notice.
The interior of the structure was dark, the gaps in the wood frame letting in the frigid air along with a tiny sliver of moonlight. For the first time since waking up to the sound of an intruder, she felt a modicum of safety. Kari pulled out the disposable phone she’d been given and quickly searched for the emergency contact information she’d been provided. Agent Callahan’s number came up and she quickly placed the call.
“Callahan,” he answered gruffly on the second ring.
She nearly wept in relief. “It’s me, Kari Danville,” she whispered. “I need your help. Someone found me and tried to kill me.”
“What?” Agent Callahan’s harsh voice made her wince. From the moment they’d met, there was something about his stern demeanor that put her on edge. Oh, he was handsome enough, tall with dark hair and strikingly green eyes. His broad shoulders gave her the impression he worked out a lot, too. But she’d found it difficult to warm up to a man who never smiled.
“Where’s the officer guarding your house?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “The squad car is still out there, but I didn’t see anyone inside.”
“Where are you?” he asked. She could hear rustling sounds as he moved around.
“Hiding in a tree house,” she whispered.
There was a long pause. “A tree house?” he echoed in surprise. “Where?”
“I’m not sure. I went through several neighbors’ yards to get away.”
More background noises. “Stay where you are, understand? Don’t contact anyone else. Wait for me... I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Okay.” She didn’t want to disconnect from the call, wanting, needing human contact. But she forced herself to push the end button before sliding the phone back into the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt.
She shivered and once again placed a protective hand over her belly. “We’re going to be all right,” she promised her unborn baby. “God is watching over us. He’ll make sure Agent Callahan finds us and takes us someplace safe.”
Kari closed her eyes, struggling to hold on to the thin thread of hope.
Truthfully, her life had fallen apart shortly before the bank robbery. Discovering that her fiancé had suddenly vanished had been difficult enough, but then she found out Vince had also cleaned out their joint bank account, taking every last dime they’d been saving for their wedding. Angry and destitute, she’d taken her modest engagement ring to a jeweler, only to be told it was fake and completely worthless.
Finding out she was pregnant was an even bigger shock, but after the first wave of hopelessness had washed over her, she’d decided to treat this baby as a blessing. Yes, the baby’s father had abandoned her, but obviously she was better off without Vince Ackerman. She still had her job at the bank, and her boss had been kind enough to grant her a leave of absence in order to testify at trial. When this mess was over, she would be able to provide a loving home for her baby.
The same way her mother had raised her.
Kari huddled in the corner of the tree house, wondering if it was time to tell Agent Callahan she was expecting. Not that her condition mattered to him one way or the other; all he needed was for her to testify at trial. A trial that had been moved up to the first week of December after her name was leaked to the press.
If only she hadn’t gotten such a good look at the bank robber’s yellow-gold eyes and intricate chest tattoo. If only she wasn’t a graphic artist, noticing every detail of the tattoo to the point she’d been able to draw an exact replica of the complicated design. Of course it was Terrance Jamison’s fault that he shot and killed a bank patron, increasing the charges against him.
She hadn’t known until Agent Callahan showed up later that day that any bank robbery was a federal crime. Or that Jamison and his cohorts were believed to be responsible for almost a dozen heists that took place in a two week time frame. The robbers had hit hard and fast, sending them soaring to the top of the Milwaukee FBI’s