Deadly Vows

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Deadly Vows Page 7

by Shirlee McCoy


  What could she say to that?

  Sorry, Ford, I don’t believe you?

  Or, I love you, too, Ford, and I desperately want to believe we’ll spend the rest of our lives together?

  She was confused. Thrown into a situation she hadn’t expected, going by instinct, and instinct said the only person she could trust was herself.

  And God.

  He was the unseen hand that had led her to safety the night she’d seen Vincent Martino murder a man. He was the silent whisper late at night, telling her that everything would be okay.

  When all else failed, when the world seemed to be falling apart, God was there. Circumstances changed, but He did not. That was the one thing that Olivia could count on, and it was enough.

  She shifted in her seat, leaning her head back and staring up at the ceiling, listening to the silence and the quiet beat of her heart. Praying for the baby she carried. Praying for Ford. And praying that she would be strong enough to face whatever the next few weeks and months brought.

  SEVEN

  Olivia was asleep when Ford drove into Billings. One arm under her head, she rested against the door, her dark hair lying silky and thick against her shoulder and arm. She looked delicate and young, her smooth complexion and unlined skin pale in the light from the dashboard. If he looked closely enough, would he notice a slight swelling of her abdomen? Some other telltale sign of her pregnancy?

  A baby.

  His baby.

  Ford still couldn’t quite believe it.

  Believe it or not, you’re going to be a father.

  Ford frowned, pulling out his cell phone, dialing Special Agent McGraw’s number and waiting impatiently while it rang several times. Finally, McGraw answered.

  “McGraw here.”

  “It’s Ford Jensen. We’ve just hit Billings.”

  “Good. I’ve got a team lined up to offer twenty-four hour protection at a safe house in the area.”

  “You’re not going to move us to a new location?”

  “The team discussed it, but we think the Martinos will be expecting that. What they won’t expect is for us to keep Olivia in Montana.”

  “You hope that’s not what they’ll expect.”

  “It’s more than a hope or we’d be moving you. We’ve handpicked a few marshals—”

  “I thought you said we were keeping them out of this.”

  “I said, only men and women who were part of the task force would have knowledge of Ms. Jarrod’s whereabouts. There are marshals and FBI agents working on that team, and I trust every one of them,” Jackson said, sounding as on edge as Ford felt.

  “It’s nearly one in the morning, and I’ve been driving three hours straight, so I guess I’ll have to take your word on that. Where do you want me to go?”

  “Holy Cross Hospital. It’s on the south side of town. We’ve got some men waiting there.”

  “You want to know what kind of car I’m driving.”

  “We already do. When you drive into the parking lot, pull around to the emergency room entrance. Stay in the car until one of my men approaches.”

  “You’re good at issuing orders, McGraw.”

  “I hope you’re good at following them. Our men are wearing bulletproof gear. You’re not, and neither is Olivia.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good. You have a GPS system in that car?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here’s the address.” He rattled off the information, and Ford typed the information into the GPS system.

  “Got it.”

  “How far out are you?”

  “Just a few minutes. The streets are empty, so we should be able to get there quickly.”

  “I’ll let my men know. Be careful, Jensen.”

  “I have been.” Ford hung up, clipping the phone back to his belt.

  “Was that Special Agent McGraw?” Olivia straightened in her seat, her face still soft with sleep.

  “Yes. We’re going to meet some of his people at a hospital in the area. They’ll escort us to a safe house. We’ll stay there until the trial.”

  “Three weeks in a safe house? That sounds like fun.”

  “More fun than dying, anyway.”

  “You’ve got a point. Sorry I fell asleep. I’ve been exhausted for weeks. I guess the baby is taking more than his fair share of my energy,” she said casually, as if talking about the baby were no big deal.

  “It’s a boy?”

  “There’s a fifty-fifty chance it is.”

  And a fifty-fifty shot that it would be a girl. Would she look like Olivia? Dark hair. Sweet smile and dancing feet. For a moment, Ford allowed himself to imagine a child just like that, twirling in summer-green grass. He shoved the image away. “Do you plan to find out before it’s born?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, and please stop calling him ‘it.’”

  He nodded, unwilling to say anything more, the same uncomfortable, sick feeling he had every time he thought of being a father churning in his stomach.

  “Where’s the hospital?” Olivia asked, changing the subject.

  “Not far. You can see our progress on the map here.” He pointed to the GPS system.

  “I’ve always wanted to try one of these. I just never had any reason,” Olivia said, leaning forward to get a better look, her arm brushing against his. Heat shot through Ford at the contact, filling him with memories and longing. He tamped both down, focusing instead on the dark road that stretched ahead.

  Houses lined the street, bunched together in clusters. A church sat on a corner lot, its siding pale gray in the moonlight. Ford was sure he’d seen the exact same scene during the time he’d spent crisscrossing Billings. After nearly three weeks, every street corner, every house looked the same as the last, and he’d been ready to leave Billings, head to another state. He’d about given up hope of finding Olivia, had been ready to head out of town, when he’d run into a woman who’d recognized Olivia’s picture. She hadn’t been able to tell Ford much. Just that Olivia had been working at a local diner and that she’d left Billings, but it had been enough to keep him searching.

  The GPS announced an approaching exit, and Ford took it, merging onto a two-lane highway, then turning into the hospital parking lot. He knew what he was supposed to do—drive to the emergency room entrance, wait for McGraw’s men to make themselves known, but trusting Olivia’s life to others wasn’t something he was happy about doing. Especially when he wasn’t sure how trustworthy those people were.

  “What now?” Olivia asked, as he idled near the parking lot entrance.

  “I guess we go meet McGraw’s men.”

  “You don’t sound happy about it.”

  “I’m not, but I’m not sure we have any choice.”

  “I thought we’d already decided this was the best option?” As always, Olivia was reasonable and calm, but Ford could sense the anxiety in her words. Now wasn’t the time to let her know how worried he was or how much he wondered if turning themselves over to the FBI was the right thing to do. They were committed to the plan, and adding extra stress to Olivia’s life wasn’t something Ford wanted to do.

  “We did,” he said, pulling through the hospital parking lot, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. They were being watched. He was sure of it. He just hoped the people watching were the good guys.

  “Did Special Agent McGraw say who was going to meet us?” Olivia asked, and Ford was sure he could hear the fear in her voice. That couldn’t be good for the baby. Weren’t pregnant women supposed to avoid extreme stress?

  He frowned. He’d planned to avoid thinking about the baby until after the trial. Seemed his mind had other ideas. “No. Just that we’d be met by some of his people.”

  “Maybe Micah will be here. He and Special Agent McGraw are brothers, you know,” she said almost absently, and Ford knew she was as busy scanning the parking lot as he was.

  “I’d wondered.”

  “They are. I think Jackson is older, but I onl
y saw him twice, and it’s hard to remember exactly what he looked like. I do know that he seemed like a really kind man.”

  “Jackson McGraw, kind?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “He seemed more obstinate and annoying than kind when I met him,” Ford responded. Though he couldn’t say Jackson McGraw had been rude or unkind. It was more that he’d been determined to discourage Ford from going after Olivia. It hadn’t worked because Ford was just as obstinate and determined as the FBI agent.

  Ford followed the emergency room signs to the back of the building. The area was quiet. A few cars were parked in the lot, but they were far enough out that Ford couldn’t see if anyone was in them. He pulled up behind a car that idled in the drop-off area, his pulse racing with nerves. Anyone could hop out of the idling vehicle. Good guy. Bad guy. And the unknown filled him with the kind of stone-cold fear he’d only ever felt once before.

  What he needed was a weapon. A gun would work. It had been years since he’s served in the marines, but he figured he could still hit a target if he needed to. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that before he’d found Olivia. Weaponless, he wasn’t going to stand much of a chance against armed men.

  His cell phone rang, and Olivia jumped, screaming loudly enough to nearly break Ford’s eardrums. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey confidence as he lifted the phone to his ear. From the look of stark terror in her face, his efforts weren’t paying off.

  “Hello?”

  “Ford? Jackson McGraw here. I’ve got two marshals and an agent moving toward you. Two men. One woman. Look out your back window. You should see them.”

  Ford shifted so he could do as he’d been asked. Just as Jackson said, three figures were moving toward the car. He couldn’t tell their gender, but he was sure they were McGraw’s people. “I see them.”

  “Good. Stay put until they’re at the car. They’ll escort you to your ride. We’ve got a few other people guarding the perimeter of the parking lot, so your safety is assured.”

  Just like Olivia’s safety had been assured in Pine Bluff?

  Ford didn’t ask. No sense pouring salt on an open wound, and there was no sense needling a man who was obviously doing the best he could to keep Olivia safe. The problem was, Ford wasn’t sure McGraw’s best was going to be good enough. He wasn’t sure anyone’s best would be.

  As Ford watched, one of the figures separated from the others, walked to Ford’s side of the car and gestured for him to open the door.

  Medium height and build, with sandy blond hair, he leaned into the open door, shooting a look at Olivia before focusing on Ford. “Mr. Jensen?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Marshal Anderson Lawrence,” he said, offering a quick, hard handshake.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. We’re going to get into the car in front of yours. I’ll escort you there.”

  “What about Olivia?”

  “She’ll be in the same car, but we’ll wait until you’re safely inside the vehicle before we move her.”

  Ford wanted to argue, but it would be a waste of time. The marshals had their methods, and they weren’t going to change for him. He met Olivia’s eyes. “Are you okay with that?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling the same sweet smile she’d offered the first day they’d met. Ford wanted to pull her close, press a kiss to her lips, tell her how much he loved her smile. How much he loved her.

  “Ready, Mr. Jenson?” Marshal Lawrence’s voice held a note of impatience that Ford didn’t miss and that he didn’t appreciate. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the one calling the shots. He leaned forward, letting his lips brush Olivia’s for just a moment before he pulled away and got out of the car.

  Cool night air enveloped him as he hurried to the waiting vehicle, and Ford inhaled deeply, trying to slow his rapid pulse. As far as he could tell there was no immediate danger, but his body hummed with awareness, his mind screamed a warning. Had this been the way Olivia had felt every moment of the past months? Had fear kept her heart beating rapidly, her ears straining for signs of danger?

  He should have been there for her.

  “Get in and slide across, Mr. Jensen,” Marshal Lawrence said as he pulled open the back door of an idling Cadillac.

  Ford gritted his teeth to keep from telling the marshal that he’d do what he wanted when he wanted. In his day-to-day life, Ford was the boss. He told his employees what to do and they did it. Not having control wasn’t something he was used to, and it wasn’t something he liked.

  He got in the car anyway, sliding over to the far door as Marshal Lawrence walked away.

  “How was the trip from Pine Bluff?” A man in the driver’s seat asked, as if Ford and Olivia had been on a scenic jaunt rather than running for their lives.

  “We didn’t run into trouble if that’s what you’re asking,” Ford replied, not bothering to turn his attention from the open door. How long did it take for three federal officers to get a woman from one car to another?

  “Good. We didn’t think you’d been followed out of town, but we weren’t sure. I’m Marshal Micah McGraw, by the way.”

  McGraw?

  Jackson McGraw’s brother, and the marshal Olivia was on a first name basis with. Ford would have given the guy a once-over if he hadn’t been so focused on the well-lit area outside of the car. Olivia would make an easy target as she got into the car. He hoped the marshals had thought that through.

  “Don’t worry. The team is just waiting for an all clear before they get Olivia out of the car,” Micah said, as if he’d read Ford’s thoughts.

  “An all clear from whom?” Ford finally pulled his attention away from the portico outside the car, met Marshal McGraw’s eyes. The guy was young. Maybe late twenties. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Looked like he’d know his way around a fight.

  “Didn’t my brother fill you in? We’ve got a half dozen marshal and FBI agents patrolling the perimeter of the hospital. We fell short in Pine Bluff, but we’re not going to do the same here.”

  “Fell short? That’s a nice way of putting it. My wife was almost killed.”

  “So were two of our men, Jensen. You can believe we take what happened tonight very seriously, and we’re doing everything in our power to figure out how Martino’s men found Olivia.”

  Ford bit back further recriminations. Slinging mud wouldn’t change what had happened. Besides, Ford would be dealing with the marshals for the next few weeks. There was no sense getting on McGraw’s bad side. “I know. How are Marshal James and Marshal Louis doing?”

  “They should recover. Sebastian said you’re the reason for that. Thanks.”

  “I think Marshal James had things under control,” Ford responded, turning his attention back to the portico.

  Micah’s radio sputtered and a tinny voice said something Ford didn’t catch.

  “That’s the signal. Looks like we’re ready to move,” McGraw said.

  Seconds later, Olivia slid into the seat beside Ford. She looked pale and drawn, the dark circles beneath her eyes giving her an air of fragility Ford had never noticed before. She offered a shaky smile as McGraw greeted her.

  A woman followed Olivia into the car. Medium height with shoulder length brown hair, she shot Ford a quick smile as she settled into the car. Was she a marshal or an FBI agent? He didn’t ask. There’d be plenty of time to figure that out later. Three weeks’ worth of time if she stuck around until the trial.

  Marshal Lawrence hurried into the front passenger seat, offering a quick wave to another man who stood outside the car. The door slammed shut, McGraw stepped on the gas, and they were moving, pulling out of the portico and around to the front of the building.

  They headed east through the city and into a subdivision of cookie-cutter houses. Ford thought they’d stop there, but McGraw kept driving. Through the community, out into a rural area dotted with farmhouses. Then, as if he hadn’t just come from there, he exited the freeway and reentered it, headi
ng back to Billings.

  “Is there a reason why we’re turning around?” Ford asked, exhausted and irritated and not in the mood to drive in circles.

  “Yeah. We’re trying to make sure we’re not being followed. The safe house we’re bringing you to isn’t going to be safe if we lead Martino’s men to it,” McGraw responded.

  “This is how it always is, Ford. We could be driving around for another three hours and end up two miles away from the hospital,” Olivia said, yawning loudly as she finished speaking.

  Concerned, Ford studied her face. She’d slept for several hours on the trip from Pine Bluff, and he hadn’t expected her to still be tired. She’d always been the kind of person who could take a ten-minute nap and wake up raring to go. “Are you okay, Liv?”

  “Dandy.”

  “You don’t sound dandy. You sound exhausted.”

  “Like I said before, pregnancy takes a lot out of me.”

  “Here,” he said, sliding his arm around her shoulders and tugging her closer. “Put your head on my shoulder and close your eyes for a while.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Just for a while, Liv. It’ll do you good.”

  “He’s right, Olivia. A woman in your condition needs her rest,” McGraw said, and Ford wasn’t sure if he should thank the guy or tell him to mind his own business.

  Which proved just how tired he was.

  Under normal circumstances, he didn’t allow himself to be upset by people. Nor did he overreact to things. He was doing both, and seemed helpless to stop it.

  “All right,” Olivia said, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “Just for a little while.”

  Her hair tickled his chin, her warmth seeped through his jacket, and he forgot his irritation and his fatigue. Forgot everything but how thankful he was to have Olivia in his arms again. He’d missed her. More than he’d wanted to admit. It was a miracle that he’d found her. A miracle that they’d survived the Martinos’ attack.

  They’d need another miracle to survive the next few weeks.

  Maybe more than one.

 

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