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Staff Sergeant Aiden Finnegan stood at ease dressed in his army dress blues. The cold November wind rattled the branches of the bare trees surrounding the Central Wisconsin Veterans Memorial Cemetery. He wasn’t on duty today as a member of the Army National Guard. He’d come as a pallbearer and to pay his respects to his former commander, Sergeant Major Gregory Savage.
He surreptitiously watched the beautiful blonde Shelby Copeland née Savage wipe at her tears while holding the hand of a young girl roughly three years old. He’d met Shelby before as he’d served with her husband, Emmitt Copeland, before he’d been killed in the line of duty.
The young mother had lost her husband two years ago and was now attending her father’s funeral. His heart ached for her. She looked fragile, pale, and alone standing in the cold as the pastor spoke of her father’s dedication and service to his country.
Difficult to comprehend the man he’d long admired was dead. Sergeant Major Greg Savage had prided himself on staying in top physical condition. Even at the age of fifty-eight, the officer could keep up with the younger soldiers in his command. He and the other five soldiers chosen to carry the commander’s casket struggled to understand how their sergeant major could have died of a sudden heart attack.
Yet here they were, burying the man with full military honors near his hometown of Oshkosh, Wisconsin.
When the pastor finished his brief sermon, Aiden allowed his gaze to roam over the oddly small group gathered at the grave site. He’d expected more attendees for a high-ranking sergeant major like Greg Savage. Yet some in the military deemed the National Guard to be less important than the regular branches of the armed forces—army, navy, air force, and marines. Oh, and the Coast Guard. The National Guard was not considered nearly as relevant. Until a disaster struck.
He watched as the bugler stepped forward, lifting the horn to his mouth to begin playing taps. The twenty-one-gun salute and folding of the flag would follow.
His eyes lingered for a moment on Shelby and her daughter. What was the little girl’s name? Eva? The last time he’d seen the girl she’d been a baby. Shelby appeared stoic and somber, but the little girl looked around curiously, likely too young to appreciate the solemn event. Then he snapped to attention as the soldier with the bugle began to play.
The familiar notes hit him hard, as they always did. The scene was reminiscent of Shelby’s husband’s funeral, although there had been more attendees back then. He kept his gaze focused on the ground near Shelby’s and Eva’s feet. Once he’d imagined dedicating his life to the military, climbing the ranks the way Savage had.
But lately, he’d been considering a change. His current tour of duty was nearly over at
t the end of December. He’d originally planned to reenlist. Yet he hadn’t signed the paperwork.
Maybe it was time to get out and search for a career with a regular schedule. The way most of his siblings were getting married, settling down, and having families made him keenly aware of his lack of social life. Frequent deployments made dating difficult. Maria had made it clear she was done waiting around for him. He couldn’t blame her.
After the final notes from the bugle faded away, seven soldiers stepped forward, rifles resting on their shoulders for the twenty-one-gun salute. They would fire off three rounds. In choreographed unison, they lifted their weapons and fired into the sky.
Something kicked up a bit of the icy hard ground inches from where Shelby stood. Aiden reacted without thinking, lunging forward and grabbing Shelby and her daughter with his arms. He pulled them out of the way, using his own body for coverage.
The seven soldiers were already firing their second round before anyone seemed to realize what was going on.
“What are you doing?” Shelby asked in a choked voice.
“We need to get out of here! Now!” He ruthlessly pulled her up, then reached down to lift the crying toddler into his arms. “Hurry!”
The rest of the funeral attendees slowly began to rush forward. Thankfully, he had a head start. He pulled Shelby with him as he zigzagged through the tombstones to cross the frozen ground toward the line of trees.
“Have you lost your mind? What’s wrong with you?” Shelby demanded.
“A bullet hit the ground near your feet.” He continued moving through the foliage, sweeping his gaze around the area, searching for the gunman.
“It was probably from the twenty-one-gun salute!” Shelby yanked against his grip. “Let me go, Aiden. You’re being ridiculous.”
He wasn’t, so he ignored her. Once they reached the shelter of the trees, he turned to look at her. “I saw the frozen ground kick up under the impact of a bullet. Someone took a shot at you under the cover of the salute honoring your father. The trajectory was such that it couldn’t possibly have been from the seven soldiers firing into the air during the twenty-one-gun salute.”
Her eyes widened, and she finally stopped tugging against him. Ignoring Eva’s crying wasn’t easy. He could hear the ruckus behind him and knew the other pallbearer soldiers back at the grave site were coming
to find them.
He knew none of them could have fired the bullet he’d seen hit the ground, but that didn’t mean one or more of them weren’t involved.
As he’d anticipated, several of the funeral attendees caught up to them. He abruptly stopped, thrust Eva into Shelby’s arms, and turned to face them. He lifted his hands to show he wasn’t holding a weapon.
“Did any of you see the shooter?”
“What shooter?” Sergeant Oliver Kennedy asked. “What’s wrong with you, Finnegan? Are you planning on holding Shelby and her daughter hostage?”
“No. I was getting them out of the way of the shooter.” He outranked the soldier and did his best to level him with a stern glare. He didn’t care that Oliver had been friends with Emmitt and likely knew Shelby better than he did. “Go back to the grave site. Inspect the ground where Shelby and Eva were standing. You’ll see what I mean.”
Kennedy exchanged glances with the others.
“I didn’t see anything,” Victor Morrison muttered.
“Fine, I’ll go,” Oliver agreed. “But Victor and the others are staying here to make sure you haven’t lost your mind and are planning something stupid.”
His jaw tightened at his subordinate’s comment, but he didn’t respond. Behind him, Shelby was comforting her daughter, and Eva’s crying turned into sniffles. He lowered his voice and said, “Please stay behind me, Shelby.”
She didn’t respond, but she didn’t move away either. He was glad she was taking his concern seriously.
A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Aiden knew what he’d seen, and he wasn’t about to back down despite the group of men and women facing him.
It seemed like hours instead of minutes before Sergeant Kennedy returned, his expression grim. “I found the area in the ground that you mentioned, Finnegan. I found the slug. It’s not the same ammo used in the twenty-one-gun salute.”
The discovery did not fill him with relief. Just the opposite. He didn’t know who had come to the sergeant major’s funeral to kill Shelby or why. “I need you and the rest of the team to spread out and search the area
for the shooter. He’s likely long gone but may have left evidence behind.”
“Yes, sir,” Kennedy replied, although the way he glanced at Shelby indicated Oliver would rather stay there to help protect the young mother. Victor, too, looked as if he didn’t like leaving.
“Oh, and let the pastor and the other funeral attendees know the service is over,” he added. “I’m taking Ms. Copeland and her daughter home.”
Shelby sputtered in protest. He turned to look at her. “Do you want to put your daughter in danger?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Of course not. But there’s no way that bullet was meant for me. Whoever fired it must have terrible aim.”
“I disagree.” To his mind, the bullet had come far too close. But her comment gave him pause. Soldiers were trained to hit what they were aiming at. So why had this shooter missed?
It didn’t make sense. Especially because the assailant went so far as to use the twenty-one-gun salute to cover the sound of his own weapon. Then again, maybe the guy had been too focused on matching the timing of the rifles being fired into the sky rather than making the perfect shot.
“Let’s get out of here.” He put his arm around Shelby’s waist, urging her across the hard ground toward the road where he’d left his truck. He doubted the shooter had stuck around, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
“I have my car here.” Shelby subtly pulled away from him. “I’ll drive myself home.”
“Not happening.” He had to bite back a flash of anger. Striving for patience, he added, “Please, Shelby. I don’t want anything to happen to you or Eva.”
“You’re taking this whole army obligation to Emmitt a little too far, aren’t you?”
Aiden doubted she’d appreciate how his knowing her deceased husband had nothing to do with his motives. In truth, Oliver Kennedy and Victor Morrison were both closer to Emmitt than he was. “Emmitt would want me to look after you.”
“Whatever.” She suddenly sounded exhausted, as if the long funeral and the frantic rush from the burial had sapped her strength.
“I’ll keep you and Eva safe.” They reached the road where several of the funeral attendees were already in their respective cars, intent on getting out of there as soon as possible.
One soldier glared at him as he passed, as if the abrupt ending to the solemn occasion was his fault. Aiden knew God had been watching over Shelby and her daughter today. He was just grateful he’d noticed the bullet
striking the icy ground.
“We need to use my car.” Shelby gave him a stubborn look when he paused near his cherry-red truck. “Eva’s car seat is inside.”
That hadn’t occurred to him, although it should have. He’d taken Brady’s son Caleb to the zoo twice over the summer and knew young kids needed to be in car seats.
“Fine. But I’m driving.”
“I’m not in the military, Aiden, so stop ordering me around like I’m one of your soldiers,” Shelby snapped.
He swallowed a retort and tried to soften his tone. “I’m sorry. The only reason I’d like to drive is to make sure we’re not followed.”
She sighed, then nodded. “You could have explained that up front. Clear communication goes a long way.”
No argument there. Shelby led the way to a light-gray Jeep SUV, then opened the back to help Eva get inside. He stood behind her, scanning the area for any sign of a threat. When she finished, he opened the passenger door for her. “Keys?”
“I have the fob in my purse.” Clearly, she had no intention of giving it to him. He closed the door behind her, then jogged around to slide in behind the wheel. Seconds later, he pulled out onto the road and followed the trailing cars out of the cemetery.
“Do you have any idea why someone would do this?” He glanced over to where Shelby sat, twisting her hands in her lap. She was dressed in funeral black, from her sweater and skirt to her heeled pumps and coat. “Why you’ve been targeted?”
“No!” Her raised voice was laced with fear. “It doesn’t make any sense. I’m a teacher, not involved in the military like you and my father. I haven’t done anything wrong. Why on earth would anyone shoot at me?”
It was a fair question.
Too bad he had no answer.
SHELBY WANTED to cry but managed to maintain control for Eva’s sake. At first, she’d wanted to believe this was nothing but Aiden Finnegan’s overactive imagination. But then Oliver claimed to have found a mark in the dirt and a bullet. One that was a different caliber than the one the soldiers carrying out the twenty-one-gun salute were using.
And worse? It had struck the ground near the exact location where she and Eva had been standing!
“Maybe the, uh, attempt was meant for someone else.” She turned in her seat, offering a reassuring smile for her daughter. Eva looked sleepy, no doubt tired from the long day too. The little girl probably didn’t know what a bullet was, but she didn’t like having this conversation in front of her three-year-old daughter.
“The pastor?” Aiden arched a brow. “Doubtful.”
“Anything is possible.” A theory she desperately wanted to believe. “Why not? Could be he has some dark, secret past. I sure don’t.”
Aiden frowned but didn’t reply. She could tell he wasn’t sold on the idea. But the more she thought about the near miss, the more logical it was that she and Eva were just innocent bystanders.
Not specifically targeted by a gunman.
Staring down at her hands, she imagined she could still see the indentation from her wedding ring. She’d taken it off six months after Emmitt’s death, but she hadn’t dipped her toe back in the dating pool.
She wasn’t interested in starting over. Besides, teaching and taking care of Eva took all her time and energy. Eva had just turned three, and her bundle of energy was both a blessing and exhausting. By the time Eva fell asleep, she was too tired to do anything else.
“Shelby?” Aiden’s husky voice drew her gaze. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head but glanced pointedly back at Eva, indicating she didn’t want to talk about it. He seemed to understand, and when he turned onto the highway, she noticed he’d headed toward Oshkosh. She inwardly sighed and relaxed, glad to know she’d be home soon. “I live off Sunset View Road, not far from the church.”
“I remember.” Aiden met her gaze. “I was there after Emmitt’s funeral.”
She glanced away. Sometimes it seemed as if Emmitt might walk in the door at any moment, coming home from a recent deployment. And other times she found it difficult to remember what it was like to be married. Their union had only lasted four years, and Eva had no memory of her father since he died just after her first birthday.
Aiden slowed and quickly moved into the right lane. She frowned, as this wasn’t their exit. The way he kept his gaze on the rearview mirror made her stomach tighten. “Something wrong?”
“No.”
The tense expression on his face belied his response. Twisting in her seat, she scanned the traffic behind her. He was driving at the speed limit, which most people didn’t do. Car after car zoomed by, passing them on the left.
Was he doing this just to make her paranoid? Her gaze lingered on her sleeping daughter for a moment, then she sat back with a frown. Emmitt had told her Aiden was a decent guy to serve with. But other than meeting Aiden a handful of times—yes, including during Emmitt’s funeral—she didn’t know much about him.
Other than he came from a large family with something like eight brothers and sisters. As an only child, she couldn’t imagine growing up with that many siblings.
She lurched in her seat when Aiden made an abrupt turn, exiting the interstate at the last possible second. Grabbing the handrest with one hand, she braced herself on the dashboard with the other.
Before she could ask what he was doing, he hit the gas, flying through a yellow light that turned red the moment they reached the center of the intersection. Car horns blared and a wave of anger hit hard. Eva was in the car! If they’d been hit, her daughter would be injured, or worse!
“What’s wrong with you?” It was all she could do not to scream at him, but she did use her best stern teacher’s voice, lowered so as not to wake Eva. “Pull over right now! I do not feel safe with you speeding like a maniac through yellow lights.”
Aiden ignored her, weaving between cars before turning sharply and taking the on-ramp to get back onto the interstate. Only they were going the wrong way.
She smacked him on the arm, her knuckles brushing against the stripes on his uniform sleeve. A quick glance back confirmed Eva was still asleep. “Why are you acting like this?”
“There was a black SUV following us.” His tense tone sent shivers down her spine. She twisted again in her seat but didn’t see anything.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He shot her a concerned look. “It stayed in the middle lane but dropped his speed dramatically when I did. No one does that, Shelby. I had no choice but to bail.”
She wasn’t sure what to think. Her husband knew Aiden, along with several of the other men who’d been at the funeral today, so logically she should be able to trust him. But this—this couldn’t be happening. There was no reason for anyone to follow or shoot at her!
Unless . . .
Pressing a hand to her racing heart, she forced the question past her tight throat. “Is this related to my father?”
“That possibility has occurred to me.” Aiden didn’t meet her gaze, ...
