Page 5 of Stand By You
“Speaking of Miami. I have a case for you if you are not otherwise tied up with a JAG case,” Kenneally said.
“My docket is clear. I haven’t been tapped to fill in for anyone in a while,” Nick said. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to check in on a young woman who’s in the hospital over at Mount Sinai Medical Center,” Kenneally explained. “Hank Patterson received a call from a Miami detective buddy of his, Curt Simons, and asked us to take this one since Hank knew I had a man in the city.”
“Does Hank know everything about the Wolf Agency and your personnel?” Nick asked.
“Pretty much,” Kenneally said. “Plus, he has Swede on his payroll and that hacker can get any information he wants at his fingertips.”
Nick chuckled going into his home office and opening up his laptop. “That’s the truth. Can you tell me anything about the young woman?”
“I’ve already sent her file. It should be in your inbox,” Kenneally said. “Her name is Jillian Grant. She’s a nanny, and she’s had two mugging attempts in the past few weeks. Today she was a victim of a near fatal hit and run as she left Miami PD. Detective Simons saw the whole thing.”
“You’re kidding?” Nick said. “Someone must really want this woman dead.”
“That’s what Simon’s believes, and he’s smart enough to know he can’t keep her alive, much less safe. That’s why he’s called in Brotherhood Protectors.”
“I’ll shower and get over there pronto,” Nick said. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Pack a bag, because you’ll be moving in with her at the gated community where she lives and cares for Nathan McGinty’s son,” Kenneally said.
“McGinty. Why does that name sound familiar?” Nick asked as he began packing up his computer equipment.
“Because McGinty is one of the guys in the photograph with me that hung in my office,” Kenneally explained. “He served with me and Hank back in the day.”
“Damn,” Nick said. “Talk about these guys going after that wrong person, they don’t know what bad choice they made when they picked Miss Grant to mess with.”
“That’s right, but according to Simons she has no idea why anyone wants to hurt her, and he doesn’t either, so it’ll be up to you to do that while keeping her and McGinty’s eight-year-old son Travis safe.”
“Got it,” Nick said, slipping his laptop and accessories into his backpack. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep the McGinty household protected like it was my own.”
“That’s why I called you, I have no doubt,” Kenneally said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Nick ended the call. Slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed to his bedroom to pack his clothes in his duffle before taking a shower. He made quick time pulling pants, tops, shorts, undergarments from his closet and chest of drawers until he was certain he had enough items to last him two weeks which he hoped the assignment wouldn’t go longer. And if it did he could do laundry. Then he headed for the shower where he gathered his toiletry bag and tossed it in. The last items were his shoes. Two pairs from his closet and then his running shoes downstairs.
Satisfied he had everything he’d needed; he did a quick security check of his place that nothing was plugged in or on that shouldn’t have before he walked outside into the Miami heat and deposited his duffle and backpack in the back of his Land Rover.
Time was of essence, and he didn’t want to give whoever had tried to kill Jillian Grant a moment more than was necessary to think they’d gotten away with their attack before he shut them down.
Jillian openedher eyes to find herself in the hospital again. Her left arm was in a cast and her left calf to below the ankle in an air compression support device. Her lips felt swollen and so did most of her face. She slowly turned her head and found Detective Simons working at the food tray table mumbling to himself as he filled out some papers.
“They didn’t kill me,” she said.
Simons head came up and he dropped his pen in surprise. “No, but they sure tried. Miss Grant, you may not know who’s out to get you, but they surely want you dead. I’m certain of it now more than before.”
“Did you see who was driving the car?” she asked, her eyes wide and swollen lips trembling.
“Unfortunately, I was too far away.” Simons shook his head, looking defeated. “But I’ve got our tech guys pulling surveillance footage from around the station in hopes the cameras got a good shot of the driver and the license plate.”
“That’s something at least,” she said, closing her eyes and laying her head back on the pillow.
“You need protection until we know you are safe,” Simons said. “My case load is too heavy for me to look in on a mugging or a hit a run victim like you with the obvious care you need. That’s why I’ve called in someone who can do. A Navy buddy of mine, Hank Patterson runs an agency that offers surveillance and bodyguard protection. It’s called Brotherhood Protectors. He’s sending a man who will stay with you and keep you and Travis safe until whoever is behind these attacks is caught. I’ve already been in touch with Mr. McGinty and he’s on board.”
Her eyes flashed open. “You called Mr. McGinty on his honeymoon?” Jillian said. “But there was no need.”
“Under the circumstances I saw there was no choice,” Simons argued. “He was very worried about your safety, and he was glad to know that I’d been in contact with BrotherhoodProtectors. He was about to give them a call himself until I mentioned they were already on their way. He has a similar connection.”
“He does?” Jillian said.
