by Debra Webb
He was right. She understood this. She wasn’t completely naive to these sorts of things. Harrison and his father had had only a few they trusted with everything. The rest were only allowed a tiny piece of knowledge—only what was required to carry out their mission.
But she had to be firm. This was what she wanted. “I apologize for making this difficult for you, Marshal Holloway—especially under the circumstances—but I’m willing to take the risk. I would like you to send Marshal Stevens back to Nashville.”
He studied her a moment. “If you’ll tell me the real reason you want him to go, I promise I’ll make it happen if that is truly what you want.”
The real reason. She glanced back at the door. She had promised herself that she would never allow lies into her life again. If that rule didn’t start with her, what was the point?
“We both know there is a strong chance Armone’s people will find me no matter what we do or how careful we are.” When he would have interrupted, she held up a hand to stop him. “It may be as I walk up the steps at the courthouse or as I enter the courtroom.” She shrugged. “In the car on the way to the airport. At the airport. There are just a million opportunities for it to happen.”
The weariness and probably pain he struggled with filled his expression, but Holloway nodded his understanding. “You’re right. It’s possible one of those scenarios could happen. Are you having second thoughts?”
Startled by his question, she pressed her hand to her chest. “No. Not at all. Whatever happens, I’m going to testify as long as I’m still breathing. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s him.”
Realization dawned on his face. “You’re concerned that if they come after you, anyone in the way will be hurt or worse.”
“Yes. I don’t want to cause him harm.” How did she explain this without sounding like a fool? “I know his family. His mother is a wonderful woman. He has a sister with three kids. I don’t want to risk being the cause of his family losing him.”
Holloway seemed to consider her explanation for a moment. “Ali, that’s incredibly noble of you.” He spoke as if he were choosing his words carefully. “But you must be aware that Marshal Stevens risks his life every day on the job. If he leaves this assignment, he’ll only go to another that could be even more dangerous.”
She couldn’t deny the former, but she had her doubts about the latter. Armone, the bastard, was completely ruthless, and he had endless resources. There had to be something she could say that would change his mind. What he’d said to her at the onset bobbed into her frantic thoughts.
“You said whatever I wanted,” she reminded him. “All I had to do was ask.”
He gave a nod. “You’ve got me there.” He stared at her for a long moment. “Jaxson Stevens is one of the very best. We’re very lucky he was available. Anytime there’s a touchy situation, he’s the one they go to. They would likely have put him on this case instead of me, except he wasn’t available then.”
He was going to say no. Her hopes fell.
“All that said,” he went on, “if you’re set on having someone else, I’ll make it happen. But I think it would be a mistake. Has he done or said anything to you that has you feeling upset or uncomfortable?”
“No, not really.” Truth, she reminded herself. “I was deeply in love with him once.” She shrugged. Felt like a fool.
Holloway held up his hand to prevent her from saying more.
“I need to say this,” she warned. “The truth is maybe I still am even after all this time. All I know is that I can’t allow him to risk his life for me.”
“You don’t get to make that decision.”
Her heart dropped to the floor at the sound of his voice.
Holloway sighed. “I tried to stop you when the door opened.”
He had, and she wouldn’t listen. Her back was to the door, and she’d had no idea. Oh God, he’d heard her declaration. She told herself it wasn’t entirely true...only partly so.
Jax joined her at the marshal’s bedside. Ali couldn’t look at him. Not after what she’d said. How she wished the floor would crack open and swallow her up. Good grief, could she have stuck her foot any deeper into her throat?
“Ten years,” Jax said, his voice oddly neutral. “It’s been ten years. We’ve both moved on. Whatever you think you feel is more likely resentment because I left.”
Heat scalded her cheeks even hotter. Lovely. Now Holloway knew the rest of the sad story of their shared history. She and Jax had had an intense relationship ten years ago, until he got an offer he couldn’t refuse and then he was gone.
She was a fool. Then and now.
Ali turned to him. “Or maybe you’re just feeling guilty for walking away and now you have something to prove.”
He moved his head slowly from side to side. “Trust me, I have nothing to prove. You’re a witness in a high-profile, very important case. I’m here to make sure you stay alive until you’ve testified. Nothing more.”
Anger fired inside her. She shifted her attention back to Holloway. “Fine. Let him stay. If he gets himself killed, it won’t be on me.”
Holloway struggled to sit up straighter. Ali winced at the pain on his face.
“I don’t like this one damned bit,” he said then grimaced, “but we are too close to risk a screwup.” He stared at Jax. “Can you handle this?”
“What the hell, Holloway? You know better than to ask.”
“Tell me you won’t get distracted.”
He shook his head. “I will not get distracted. Like I told you, whatever we had was over a long damned time ago.”
His words were like a slap to her face. Ali pinched her lips together. Anything else she said at this point would only make her look more foolish.
Holloway slumped against his pillow. “If I could get out of this bed, we would not be having this discussion.”
“I’ve got this, Branch,” Jax said, using the marshal’s first name.
Apparently the two knew each other better than she had realized.
Jax reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell. “It’s Tanner.”
He answered the call, explained their situation and set the phone to speaker. “Go ahead, Tanner.”
“The man posing as a utilities worker is Rafe Sanford.”
Holloway looked from Jax to Ali and back. “Sanford is a local thug. In and out of trouble all the time.”
“Always has been,” Tanner reiterated. “Mostly petty crimes, but there have been rumors of bigger jobs but no evidence to ever tie him to any of it. I’ve got him in lockup now. He says a man sought him out and hired him to see if a certain blonde lady was holed up anywhere around town. He suggested Rafe keep an eye on Marshal Holloway and me, as well as Chief Brannigan as a way of finding what he was looking for.”
Ali’s mortification from what Jax had overheard vanished as her fears were realized. Armone had found her again.
“He says he was caught before he could report back to the guy. He has a cell number to call. He says the guy was wearing a suit like he was some big hotshot. Waited for him at the pool hall. Looked about as out of place as a bald guy at a barbershop.”
“Have you confirmed his story?” Jax asked.
“I did. Kenneth Prince, owner of the pool hall, described the same guy hanging out twice this week.”
“Is Sanford supposed to meet with him again?”
“Only if he finds her location. He gets one thousand dollars in cash.”
Ali felt sick to her stomach. That was the Armone way.
Holloway was trying to sit up again. Jax shook his head and ushered him back down.
“You think we can set up a sting operation?” Holloway asked.
“We?” Jax laughed. “You’re not leaving this hospital. I’m taking this witness—” he glanced at Ali “—someplace safe.”
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“I’ve already notified the FBI,” Tanner said. “They want this guy.”
“Damn.” Holloway blew out a breath. “The more activity in this area, the more attention we draw.”
“Deputy James Carter is headed to your location now. Stevens, he’ll take you to a place to stay tonight.”
“We need security at Holloway’s home and on his room here at the hospital,” Jax said.
Ali hated this. She didn’t want anyone else hurt because of that bastard.
Holloway protested. “I don’t need—”
“Don’t argue,” Jax ordered.
“Making that happen now,” Tanner said. “We can’t be sure what this man knows. If Sanford doesn’t come through for him, he may move onto bigger fish.”
Holloway muttered a curse.
While Tanner and Jax continued to talk, Holloway looked at Ali. “You okay?”
She managed a nod. “You guys have the tough job. All I have to do is stay alive.”
Falls Mills Bed & Breakfast
SHERIFF TANNER WAS friends with the owner of the historic bed-and-breakfast. Since there were no guests tonight, he had turned the place over to Tanner.
The bed-and-breakfast was a small two-story cabin built in the late 1800s, according to the brochure on the table by the door. The location was sort of off-the-grid. Not as much as the cabin where she’d stayed for the past six months, but definitely on a road less traveled.
She glanced at the clock—almost nine. Not so late, but she was exhausted. The owner had closed and locked the gate to the main property. Of course that wouldn’t stop a man like Armone.
“Here we go.”
Jax was on one knee in front of the fireplace; Bob watched him intently, his tail wagging. Jax had started a fire. He had a bit of trouble in the beginning. Ali had thought about telling him that she could do it, but she’d decided to avoid conversation as much as possible. She did not want him to ask her about what she’d said to Holloway. She’d come up with an excuse to explain it away, but she’d rather not talk about it.
Ever.
He stood. “You hungry? Tanner said the place was stocked. We can have a look, see what’s available.”
“I think I’ll just go to bed.” She needed some time alone to regroup and pull herself together.
She could not linger here any longer and have him stare at her the way he was right this second.
“We eat and then we sack out.”
“Okay.” She started toward the kitchen, moving past him as quickly as possible. Bob trailed behind her.
Jax followed. She didn’t have to look back—she could feel his nearness. How could she be so keenly aware of him after all these years?
To distract herself from him and to get this whole eating thing over, she perused the cabinets and the fridge in the small kitchen. Nothing she saw made her the slightest bit hungry. But he was right. She had to eat or she wouldn’t be able to function at her best. She grabbed a can of soup and crackers along with a bottle of water. While he prowled, she heated her soup in the microwave. There was no dog food, so she opened a can of little sausages for Bob. Then she went to sit on the floor by the fire.
She couldn’t get warm.
She needed a shower. A toothbrush and clothes.
It felt as if this nightmare was never going to be over. She forced herself to eat the soup and munch on a cracker. It would be nice to say she couldn’t wait to go home, but she had no home. She had nothing. Not even a vehicle. The one at the cabin didn’t belong to her.
Nothing belonged to her. Not even the few items of clothing in the bureau in that cabin she would never see again.
Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to cry. Crying was pointless. Besides, she was utterly exhausted. She lacked the energy to cry.
Every family photo she possessed was at the house she had shared with Harrison. The necklace her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday, the watch her mother had worn every day of her life and dozens of other mementos.
Armone had probably had them destroyed.
He would love hurting her that way. Bastard.
“About the thing at the hospital.”
She dropped the spoon into her empty bowl. Somehow, she had finished the soup. “What thing?”
“What you were saying to Holloway.”
He was staring at her. Waiting for her to look at him. She refused. Kept her gaze locked on the bottle of water in her hand. “I said what I thought I had to say to get him to take you off the case.”
It was a good excuse and kept her from looking totally pathetic.
“I see.” He scooped up another spoonful of cereal.
“Good night.” She got to her feet and started toward the kitchen with her bowl.
“For the record,” he said.
She stopped but didn’t look back.
“It doesn’t matter. This is what I do. Nothing more.”
She took another step and then another until she reached the kitchen. Careful not to drop the bowl, she placed it in the sink, her hand shaking. The crackers went back into the cabinet. He came into the kitchen and placed his bowl in the sink next to hers. She braced herself for walking past him once more.
“Good night,” he said as she passed.
She kept walking, Bob on her heels.
Chapter Five
Three days until trial
Monday, February 3
A sound woke her.
The room was pitch-dark. Ali lay still and listened. The distant sound of the falls, the occasional splat of something wet against the metal roof. More snow?
She had no idea what time it was.
Throwing the handmade quilt aside, she sat up. Her bare feet settled on the cold wood floor. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Across the room the other bed was empty. The white linens beneath the other handmade quilt confirmed her conclusion.
Where was Jax?
Maybe he’d awakened early and gone down for coffee. Ali drew in a deep breath. Since the loft was open on one side to the first level, the scent of brewed coffee would surely have wafted up to her.
No hint of coffee lingered in the air. Just the cold air flavored with the slightest scent of lavender. There were bunches of the dried herb neatly placed throughout the room. Pushing up to her feet, she righted her clothes. The sweatshirt had twisted around her waist, and the jeans had crawled up above her ankles. Somewhere around the bed were her socks and shoes. She should find them before going downstairs. She moved slowly around the bed, swiping one soundless foot across the wood until she bumped the pile of abandoned footwear.
Where was Bob?
Settling on the floor, she gathered the socks first and tugged them on. Then the shoes that were her favorites. This was the only footwear she’d brought with her when she walked away from that gym. When this was over, she would certainly need to refresh her wardrobe.
Assuming she needed something more than a burial dress.
She shivered. The cold, she told herself. She wasn’t afraid. Not really. Especially now. She was far more afraid of Jax being hurt than she was of her own mortality. She had bought in to this tragic nightmare. He had not. He was only attempting to do his job. She cringed at the memory of him hearing what she’d said to Marshal Holloway. It wasn’t true, of course. The assurance rang hollowly in her head. Yes, she had feelings for him. He had been her first love. But she wasn’t still in love with him.
Not possible.
She got up and moved quietly to the stairs. They were narrow, not made for more than one person at a time. Downstairs was just as dark as upstairs. She opened her mouth to call his name, but some deeply entrenched instinct stopped her.
It was too quiet.
If he was up, why wasn’t a light on? Why didn’t she smell coffee?
Another step
downward and then another. Maybe he’d gone outside to look around. Check the perimeter or whatever bodyguards did.
She took the final step down to the lower level and turned toward the kitchen area. Moonlight filtered in through the window. No Jax.
A firm hand closed over her mouth. Her scream lodged in her throat.
A strong arm locked around her and flattened her against a hard body. “Quiet,” he whispered.
Jax.
Thank God.
Holding her tight against him, he shuffled soundlessly away from the stairs and the meager light trickling into the kitchen.
When they were in the darkest corner of the room, his mouth brushed her ear again. She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold.
“There’s someone outside.”
Her pulse accelerated. She pinched her lips together to prevent any sound from escaping. Holloway had been right. The closer the trial date got, the more desperate Armone would become. All these months had been so quiet, so uneventful. She closed her eyes and focused on steadying her breathing.
Where was Bob? She opened her mouth to ask, but the dog’s warm body brushed against her leg, alleviating the need. Her fingers trailed the length of his back.
Jax guided her to the area beneath the narrow stairs. Bob scooted in next to her. Jax touched her lips with one finger in the universal sign for quiet.
As he moved away, she lost sight of him in the darkness. The other windows in the cabin, including the one in the door, were covered with curtains. Jax had carefully closed them all when they first arrived. Only the kitchen window was uncovered. If trouble was here, they needed backup. He shouldn’t do this alone.
She reached into the hip pocket of her jeans, thankful her phone was still tucked there. Squatting deeper beneath the stairs, she turned it on and waited for the home screen to appear. Her fingers shaking, she quickly typed a text message to Holloway.
