Major Nanny - Paula Graves

Paula Graves

Major Nanny

The fourth book in the Daddy Corps series, 2011

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Stacy Giordano-A single mom to a child with Aspergers syndrome as well as the Texas governors aide-de-camp, the last thing Stacy needs to deal with is another threat to the governors life-especially when it puts her and her young son in the line of fire.

Harlan McClain-The governor taps the Corps Security and Investigations agent to head security for an upcoming fundraiser-and work side by side with Stacy. Can he keep the governor and her pretty aide safe from a ruthless assassin?

Zachary Giordano-Stacys young son is struggling to fit into a world that makes no sense to him. But does he have a vital clue to the mystery of whos stalking his mother locked in his mind?

Lila Lockhart-The Texas governors announced intention to run for president was greeted by a deadly bomb blast. Is she crazy to hold another fundraiser within a couple of weeks of the assassination attempt?

Bart Bellows-Lilas dear friend owns Corps Security and Investigations. Did he make a mistake assigning Harlan McClain to the governors security staff?

Greg Merritt-Governor Lockharts new campaign manager is a political shark. Can Stacy trust him to have the governors best interests at heart?

Trevor Lewis-The young stable groom has taken a liking to Stacy and her young son, Zachary. But what are his true motives for befriending them?

Jeff Appleton-The Freedom, Texas, deputy is leading the investigation into some very personal threats against Stacy. But is he looking in the wrong direction?

Planet Justice-The anarchistic antiglobalization group is determined to hold a peaceful protest outside the governors fundraiser. But are there elements within the group whose intentions are anything but peaceful?

Chapter One

The bomb went off, and for a minute, Harlan McClain was back on a dusty road in Iraq, his ears ringing. Everything around him moved in slow motion-debris flying, people falling.

There were screams. Always screams. The training never prevented the screaming.

Youre not in Iraq. Youre in Austin, Texas, and a bomb just went off. Get your backside in gear.

Over a decade of Marine Corps training taking over as chaos unfolded around him, he scanned the area for a quick damage assessment. Car bomb. Not a huge one-the blast radius wasnt anywhere near the size of something like Oklahoma City-but the dais where Governor Lila Lockhart had stood moments earlier was a ruin, reduced to jagged metal and splintered wood.

Was the governor buried somewhere under the debris?

The crowd surrounding the platform had already begun to disperse in panic, leaving behind some of the fallen. Many were still moving, trying to drag themselves to safety. Others lay motionless in the grass in front of the dais.

Triage, he thought, pulling out his cell phone to call 911. His call was one of many, he discovered. To his relief, the dispatcher told him units were already responding. But he couldnt sit tight waiting for the cavalry to arrive-some of these people might not survive the wait.

As he hurried toward the first fallen victim, a slim, dark-haired woman raced across his path, heading toward the collapsed platform. Blood stained the side of her face without obscuring her delicate profile. Pretty, he thought. Scared as hell. She looked familiar.

Governor! she cried, trying to pull away a piece of metal from the pile.

Harlan raced forward to stop her. The wrong move could bring the rest of the debris falling down on top of anyone buried underneath. And the last time hed seen his boss, Bart Bellows had been only a few feet from Lila Lockhart.

Dont try to move anything, he barked, his voice coming out more gruff than hed intended.

She turned a fierce glare his way. The governor is under there.

And if you do the wrong thing, you could bring the rest of this mess crashing in on her.

Her nostrils flared. You were with Bart.

Harlan McClain. He nodded, remembering where hed seen her before. Youre the governors aide, right?

Stacy Giordano. She pressed her fingertips to the side of her head. When she drew them away, they were bloody. Her face went even paler. What happened? Was it a bomb?

Yeah, Im pretty sure.

She shook her head, looking stunned and scared. But Frank Dorian is in jail.

Hed had the same thought. Even Bart, who was a suspicious old cuss, had thought that stopping Frank Dorian solved Governor Lockharts problem. Dorian had come damned close to killing the governor before Wade Coltrane had stopped him, but once he was in custody, everyone at Corps Security Investigations had thought the trouble was over.

Harlan should have known better. Trouble never went away for long.

We need to help the injured. He caught her arm, making her gasp. He loosened his grip, tried to soften his voice. She looked shell-shocked and he didnt need to spook her any further. Go find as many able-bodied people as you can. We need to start some sort of triage-

She straightened, as if shed found her core of steel. Okay. Her chin lifted and her eyes flashed with determination as she headed out in search of help.

He wasnt surprised when she returned a few minutes later with several people in tow. Most had clearly survived the blast themselves, their clothing covered with grime and fine debris. Some, like Stacy, had cuts and scrapes, but they all seemed relieved to have a purpose-something to take their minds off witnessing their world upended.

Sometimes, Harlan knew, finding something useful to do was the only thing that kept you sane in a crazy world.

He sent Stacy Giordano and her army in search of people who were moving around, while he checked on the ones who werent moving. Unlike his civilian helpers, he had plenty of experience in dealing with mortality. Too much experience.

He found two D.O.A.s and a couple more who might not make it. As he moved to the next body-a man in a state trooper uniform lying near the mangled remains of the dais-he heard sirens approaching at a clip.

Its Chip! Stacy Giordano rushed past him toward the state trooper. Hes part of the governors security detail.

Harlan raced to catch up, not sure what shed find when she reached the troopers still body.

Stacy crouched next to the man, her fingers on his carotid. Hes alive, she said briskly. Her hands moved over his body, searching for injuries. She moved with a sureness that caught Harlan by surprise.

You a nurse or something?

She glanced at him. No. Search and rescue medic training. Theres a lump here at the back of his head. Skull feels intact, but it may be a concussion. She checked the mans eyes with a small penlight attached to a keychain. Pupils reactive. Good sign.

The man made a low groaning sound.

EMTs are arriving. We should back off, let them work, Harlan suggested.

There arent going to be enough for everybody. Not yet-

He caught her arm and tugged her to a standing position. Well be in the way. And we dont know that weve seen the last of the blasts.

Her eyes widened. You think there could be more coming?

Its possible, he admitted. Sometimes theres a secondary device-

To hit the first responders. Stacys jaw squared. Then wed better find the governor and get her out of here. She started toward the back of the dais before he could stop her.

He jogged to catch up.

She was standing back here, Stacy called over her shoulder, so if she dropped with the dais-

Harlan spotted a flash of pale blue under the tangle of metal piping and wooden slats that had once constituted the bunting-draped platform where Lila Lockhart had declared her intention to run for higher office. Lila had been wearing a light blue suit, hadnt she?

Lila! Stacy dashed forward. Lila, can you hear me?

Im stuck under this damned mess! Lila called out, her voice surprisingly strong. I mustve bumped my head-I was out a few seconds-

Hold still-you dont want to cause yourself more injury, Harlan warned. Did you see what happened to Bart?

He was right behind me-

Im over here. A mans voice, weak and strained, came from somewhere behind Harlan.

Harlan turned to see a large chunk of the dais had broken off and flown backward in the blast, landing sideways in a shallow rill in the capitol grounds. Bart?

Knocked me clean on my backside! Bart called out, his voice a little stronger. But I cant get my chair up.

Keep her from moving, Harlan ordered Stacy before he hurried to the second debris site. To his relief, Bart had been thrown clear of the twisted tangle of wood and metal, but the old man and his wheelchair both lay on their sides in the grass beyond the rill.

Im afraid this is probably a goner, Harlan said as he picked up the wheelchair, pushing it away from Barts useless legs to free them. He grimaced as his scarred right hand twinged where he gripped the chair handle.

Is Lila okay? Bart asked.

Shes alive. Shes trapped under the debris, but she sounds good. The paramedics are on the way.

Who did this? Frank Dorians in jail.

I dont know. Harlan ran his hands over Barts body, looking for injuries. He didnt feel any obvious broken bones, and the old man seemed bright-eyed and lucid. Do you have any pain anywhere?

Bart shook his head. The explosion flung me like a rag doll, but I reckon I landed that way, too. Probably saved me a broken bone or two. He clapped his hand on one useless leg. Not that Id have noticed.

Harlan looked again at the wheelchair. The control panel had been damaged by the impact, but the wheels and frame looked surprisingly sturdy. Lets get you into the chair and see if we cant do this the old-fashioned way.

He picked up Bart and set him in the wheelchair, taking another chance to look him over. Barts well-seamed face was scraped and dirty, but he didnt seem to have any worrisome injuries, to Harlans relief.

Quit lookin at me like Im about to keel over any minute, Bart groused.

Harlan bit back a grin. Lets go check on Lila.

The wheelchair wasnt easy to push over the uneven, grassy terrain, especially with Harlans hand starting to ache as if hed taken the shrapnel injury moments earlier rather than months ago. But Harlan was so relieved Bart seemed to be okay that he barely felt the pain.