Grace Anne - By Kathi S. Barton Page 0,72

had been staring at them for some time. “That’s my boss. He’ll cover both our asses.”

There stood Lieutenant Colonel David Patterson and, before Michael could make any sort of comment, David saluted him. And out of respect for his retired status, Michael returned it. He turned back to Sin with a huge grin. “You do know everybody, don’t you?”

They turned as one and strode toward the house. Both ignored the shouts and men scrambling behind him. In less than one minute they were on the porch. With a single kick to the door from Michael they were both inside.

A glance around the room showed a couch, chair, and nothing else. When the first person came through the door in front of them, Sin took him out with a single shot to the head. He dropped to the floor without so much as a whimper.

Michael signaled for her to go to the right and he went to the left. Michael walked into what appeared to be the kitchen. Grace was lying on the floor with a woman standing over her with a gun pointed at her.

“Move and she’s dead.”

Michael nodded once, raised his gun, and fired. He felt a bullet hit him full in the chest seconds before he dropped to his knees. He heard someone shout, but couldn’t wrap his mind around the pain and the fact that the woman hadn’t shot Grace. He closed his eyes thinking this was a way to go.

~~~

“Do I look like I give a good damn who the fuck you are? And just in case you can’t fucking tell, let me explain to you that I don’t. Not one fucking bit.”

Trace watched the police woman pace as she yelled at the man in the suit. She sure had a potty mouth, Trace thought. And the man she was yelling at seemed to think she was really funny. Grownups were weird. He looked over at his grandma and grandpa while the nurses and doctors ran around the room.

They didn’t say much. Trace knew that his uncle Thomas was dead. He’d heard one of the other officers talking about the mess on the highway, but didn’t really understand. He almost asked his grandparents, but changed his mind thinking he might not want to know.

The man in the suit sat down next to him on the couch. He sighed really big like his dad did after he got home from work. Trace looked over at him and tried to smile. He was worried and didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

“My name is David Patterson. You must be Trace.” Trace took his offered hand and shook it. “I understand from your dad’s doctor that he’s got a couple of busted ribs and his arm is fractured.”

Trace sat back and closed his eyes. He hadn’t heard that part. He just knew that someone had called the big house and he was put in a car and brought here. The little kids stayed with the nanny. He kind of wished he had, too, until now.

“That’s not so bad,” he told David. “My mom? Do you know how she is? The man at the desk over there seems to think she’s in bad shape. I need for her to be okay so that she and my dad can get married. She isn’t going to send me away like my friend’s new mom did.”

Trace flushed. He hadn’t meant to sound so whiny, but the man didn’t comment. He’d noticed that around this family. They never made you feel bad or stupid if you said the wrong thing. He liked them all a lot. Trace hoped he got to stay close to them when this was all over.

“Grace is a Waite. She’s too mean to do anything but get better.”

Trace wasn’t sure how to take that. He wasn’t sure if the man was insulting his new mom or not so he didn’t say anything.

“Mr. Patterson, there’s a call for you at the desk. It’s Washington, sir. They said it’s urgent.”

Trace looked up at the man who was dressed in the nicest uniform he’d ever seen.

“There’s been a crisis and you’re needed.”

“There’s always a crisis somewhere.” David glanced over at him before he spoke to the man again. “Take a message. Then call the President. Tell him that I’m at the hospital with one of my men and that I can’t be bothered right now. Tell him I’ll call him back when I can.”

Trace stared wide-eyed at the man sitting next to