U.S. Marshals: Chased (U.S. Marshals Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “Hear, hear.” Vince raised his glass in sharing her toast. Everyone else joined in, Cal and Meghan clinking their crystal goblets filled with chocolate milk.

  “Mom?” Cal finally asked. “Can we quit talkin’ and eat? Me and Meggie wanna get back in the pool.”

  “Yeah.” Caleb shot her a private look of such pure love she almost fell into a swoon worthy of a saloon girl. “Our boy’s got some major dunking ahead of him.”

  “All right,” she said. “Thanks, everyone, for indulging me. Let’s eat.”

  Adam said, “I’ll give you an Amen for that!”

  Barney and Milo, having been sitting patiently beside Adam, barked for their own share of the meal.

  “What an amazing weekend.” After they’d tucked Cal and Milo into bed, Allie collapsed onto her living room sofa, glad when Caleb sat beside her so she could rest her feet on his lap. He’d stored quite a chunk of vacation time over the years and had decided to use the weeks before their wedding not only to relax and move, but file for an official transfer to Allie’s judicial district. She still wasn’t thrilled about Caleb’s career choice, but was trying to at least be okay with it.

  “Hey!” he complained. “I was just about to plunk my feet on you.”

  “Sorry,” she said with a sweet smile. “I enacted my plan first.”

  He shook his head, reaching his hand out to hers, lacing their fingers. “This the way it’s always going to be around here once we get hitched? You using me as a foot rest?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “There are lots of other parts I’d like to rest on you, too.”

  “Mmm…” His lips parted in a slow grin. “I’m liking the sound of this.” He stroked the core of her palm with his thumb, streaking heat through her.

  Eyes closed, she sighed. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For letting go of the past. For sharing the great life we have ahead of us.”

  “What if I turn out to be a royal pain in your derriere? Leaving my dirty socks all over the place and never helping with dinner?”

  “I can think of worse things…” Like you never having been here at all.

  “What’s up with this sudden sad face?” he asked. “Having second thoughts?”

  She shook her head. “This time we’re going to get things right.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a solid nod. “That sounds good. Real good.”

  “So then we’ll take Gillian and Joe up on their offer to do this thing at Christmas at their house?”

  “This thing?” He pouted. “You referring to our wedding—the most important day of our lives—as this thing?”

  “You know what I mean.” She squeezed his hand. “I don’t know, it just sounds weird referring to it as our wedding. I’m afraid if I say it too much, I’ll jinx us.”

  “Darlin’,” he dragged her across the sofa to snuggle alongside him. “Once I tell Gillian and Joe our wedding is on, believe me, it’ll be like a speeding train. Nothing’s going to stop it. In that palace of a house of theirs, not even the weather can bring us down. Trust me, we’re good to go.”

  “All right, then…” After taking a shaky breath, she said, “Guess I’d better see how much Adam and Bear enjoy wedding dress shopping.”

  “How come they get to go and not me?”

  “Ever heard of a little rule stating it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the bride wears it walking down the aisle?”

  “Yeah, but seeing how we’ve already established the fact that we’re home free as far as bad luck is concerned—”

  “No,” she said. She did kiss him, though, to soften the blow. “Sorry, but on this point, I mean business. We shouldn’t mess around with tradition.”

  “But Gillian,” Allie said on the phone a few days later. “Isn’t it tradition for the bride to pay for the music?”

  “Sure,” Gillian said, “but I understand the full orchestra is somewhat over the top, and since I know how much Caleb adores all things country, I thought it might be fun to get a really big name in for the reception. You know, someone he’ll never expect. Garth Brooks or Shania Twain.”

  “Assuming they’d even perform at a wedding reception, do you have any idea how much either of those two would cost?”

  “Yes, which is why Joe and I would be honored to cover their fee. It’ll be our gift to you.”

  “You’re already providing the space, catering, flying in a photographer. Gillian, I know your heart’s in the right place, but you’re making me feel like a moocher.”

  “Puh-lease.” Gillian made a pfft sound. “You’ll have become a moocher when you’re over here begging me for stuff. When I’m begging you to let me give you stuff, that’s a whole other story. So? Who should I book? Garth or Shania? Maybe both? Oh—and don’t tell Caleb. I want it to be a surprise.”

  “Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Allie said to Caleb that night as she flipped the six pork chops she was preparing for dinner. One each for Caleb, Cal and herself. Three for Adam, who’d said he was starving and forgot to bring a lunch. “But your sister is out of her mind.”

  “I like Aunt Gillian,” Cal said from the salad-making station where he helped his dad tear lettuce. “She’s fun.”

  Seemingly in agreement, Milo barked, but probably more for a food handout than conversation.

  “I didn’t say she wasn’t,” Allie said. “Just that some of her ideas are a little…”

  “Insane?” Caleb finished her thought for her.

  “I was going to say unconventional. But I suppose your word works just fine.”

  “What’d she do now?” he asked, washing two tomatoes. “Please tell me she nixed the whole Cirque du Soleil ceremony theme? My ass was aching just thinking about what bizarre contortions I’d have to get into just to kiss my bride.”

  “Funny…” Allie burst into a laugh. “And true, but watch your language.”

  “I hear worse than ass at school, Mom. You should hear the kinds of stuff Billy says out on the playground.”

  “Thanks,” Allie said. “But I think I’ll pass. And you watch your mouth, too.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Hey, Dad?” Cal asked.

  “Yep?”

  “Can we go see Power Force tonight? Billy said this is the last week ’cause his mom has to make room for all the new Christmas movies. His mom owns the movies. Wouldn’t that be awesome? That’d be like better than bein’ president or a millionaire.”

  “Things have been pretty calm around here,” Caleb said. “Sounds okay to me. How ’bout you, Al?”

  “I’d love to go to a movie, but Power Force?”

  “Billy says it’s very educational.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “But after hearing the sampling of foul language he’s already taught you, I don’t put great stock in young Billy’s teaching recommendations.”

  “Cool!” Cal said. “That mean we can go?”

  “Why did I let you two talk me into that?” Allie shook her head on the drive home. “That last scene. Ugh.” She shuddered.

  “High five, man.” Caleb held out his palm to the back seat. “Sounds like we did a great job disgusting your mom.”

  “Yeah!” Cal met Caleb’s hand with a solid thwack. “When that alien sliced Laird in half with his turbo sword, I thought he was dead for sure, but then…”

  Allie settled back in her seat with a contented sigh. Though she’d never admit it, the movie had actually been pretty good. Of course, it hadn’t hurt that Laird was hot! Plus, it felt wonderful getting back to normal life. How long had it been since she’d left the house at night without jumping through protocol hoops? Sure, their security detail was both in front and behind her sedan with Milo seated beside her son, but at least she was once again back in her own car, Caleb capably at the wheel, safely guiding them through a steady rain.

  Mmm… His hands looked so strong curved around the wheel. They’d looked good doing other tasks, too. Good thing for the dark night cover
ing her naughty, blushing grin!

  How rare was it when life gave you a do-over?

  How rare, and how wonderful. Why had she ever been so naive as to for all practical purposes throw Caleb away?

  Rain drummed the roof while the back-and-forth swish of the wiper blades lulled her into a sleepy contentment the likes of which she hadn’t felt since last drifting off in his arms. Back when the most stressful thing on her mind was acing her midterm or making that month’s rent.

  Caleb adjusted the rearview mirror, tightened his grip on the wheel.

  “Dad?” Cal asked. “Can you please turn on the radio?”

  “No can do, bud. Maybe in a little bit.”

  “Aw, man. How come?”

  “Now’s just not a good time, ’kay.”

  “But—”

  “Cal!” Caleb barked with uncharacteristic roughness.

  He was back to looking in the mirror, then increasing their speed.

  “Everything, all right?” Allie asked. “It’s pouring. Shouldn’t you slow down?”

  “Nope.”

  He sped up even more. Dodged his way around two slower cars, then ran a red light.

  “Caleb,” she said with a white-knuckle grip on her door handle. “You’re scaring me.”

  “Sorry,” Caleb said from between gritted teeth, taking the next curve a good forty miles an hour over the suggested speed limit. “We’ve got company. Not sure where Adam’s detail is.” He tried talking into his mic, but got nothing but static. Was his brother out of range? Or worse?

  “Cool!” Cal unbuckled his seat belt and hooked his arms over the front seat. “We being chased?”

  “Not cool,” Caleb said. “And I want both of you to get as far down as possible.”

  “Can I keep off my seat belt?” Cal asked.

  “No!” Caleb and Allie barked together.

  The car behind them—a large truck sporting even larger tires—sped up, coming still closer, revving the loud engine.

  In the side mirror, Allie saw a long-haired man stick his head out of the truck’s window, then his torso. In his arms, he held a rifle. “Oh my God, Caleb. He’s got a gun. H-he’s aiming right at me.”

  A second after fire flashed from the gun, a sharp ping sounded near the passenger-side mirror. Another at the trunk.

  “Dammit.” Caleb pressed the car still faster.

  Allie couldn’t breathe.

  She seriously couldn’t breathe.

  Before, all of Francis’s threats had seemed somehow distant and removed. Not really aimed at her or Cal. He couldn’t really want to hurt her family. But now, with startling clarity, she saw differently—yes, the man not only wanted to hurt her and her son, but kill them.

  Kill them.

  As in dead.

  A sob caught in her throat as she unfastened her seat belt, then began a frenzied climb into the backseat.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Caleb cried. “Sit your ass down and buckle your safety belt!”

  Cal started to cry. Really wailing. “Mommy said not to cuss. That neither of us is supposed to cuss.”

  Caleb swerved around a semi, then a slow-moving minivan.

  Another shot was fired, this time shattering the rear window.

  “How could I have been so freakin’ stupid?” Caleb mumbled under his breath. “I’m a sitting duck. Got no radio. Got a piece, but how am I supposed to use it while weaving through traffic?”

  “Please, God, let us be okay…” Allie chanted. “Please, God, let us be okay…”

  Caleb shot a glance in the rearview at Allie, who was white-faced and terrified, crouched in her seat, facing Cal, gripping his hand.

  Cal clutched Milo and his mom.

  “We’re all going to be fine,” Caleb said. “Hear that? Every damned one of us is going to be just fine. I’m going to make things right.”

  “Shut up!” Allie screeched through a teary, snot-filled, crazed laugh. “You said that once before. That you’d make things right, but—”

  The shooter struck again, hitting the passenger-side back window.

  “Cal,” Caleb said. “Staying as low as possible, I want you to climb into the front. Allie, you, too.”

  Thankfully, they both did as they were told.

  “We’re going to get through this,” Caleb said, sorry as hell for his earlier brusque tone. But it wasn’t every day he had his wife-to-be and kid in a bind like this. “Trust me. We’re going to be great.”

  Eyeing the town’s state police headquarters, Caleb veered through two lanes of on-coming traffic to shoot for the lot. Guns blazing, Francis’s dumb kin followed.

  Fortunately, state cops weren’t so different from other law enforcement types, in that they didn’t take kindly to having their house and cars shot up.

  In under a minute, Caleb doubled back to the relative safety of the station to off-load precious cargo before resuming the chase—only this time, he’d be the one doing the shooting.

  No one fired on his family and lived to tell about it.

  No one.

  “Y-you’re just going to leave us here?” Allie cried, clutching Cal.

  Milo stood at attention beside his young charge.

  “Yes!” Caleb shouted. “You’ll be safe! Get inside!” Already, someone in uniform hustled out to usher Allie and Cal into the station.

  The second Caleb saw they were in good hands, he shouted “Love you!” out the car window, then took off in hot pursuit—not only to find the shooter, but Bear and his brother.

  If they were hurt…

  Teeth clenched, all Caleb could think was that they’d better not be hurt. Or anyone who’d ever even spoken to Francis was going down—hard.

  A fleet of officers had driven Allie, Cal and Milo safely home.

  Though Cal and his dog were long since in bed, while waiting for Caleb, Allie paced the living room, gnawed her nails. Cried. Paced some more. Above all, she couldn’t help but compare this night with another. The awful night her father had been gunned down in the line of duty.

  Closing her eyes, Allie went back roughly twenty years in time to the top of the stairs from where she’d watched the scene unfold.

  With her father already an eternity late getting home from his shift, Allie’s mom had sat ramrod straight, knitting at a furious pace.

  Her mother knit a lot, the speed indicating her mood. When she was content, her pace was leisurely. When sad, she slowed and made mistakes. And when she was mad, she worked even slower and made more mistakes, peppered with occasional grunts and cursing. Only one other time had Allie seen her mother knit as she was tonight—fast, with her rows perfectly straight—and that had been when Grandpa Ralph had been in the hospital having heart surgery. She’d been worried sick about him, as Allie presumed her mom was tonight about her father.

  Allie’s heart had seemed to beat in time with the needles’ faint, harried clicks.

  And then, at one-seventeen, according to the grandfather clock in the hall, the doorbell rang.

  Allie had jumped, but her mother, almost as if she’d been expecting the ding-dong, calmly set her needles and half-finished pink and blue afghan intended for Gladys Ulmstead’s new grandbaby on the sofa beside her, smoothed her hair, took a deep breath, then answered the door.

  Allie wasn’t sure if her mother had sensed her at the top of the stairs, or if she’d made a noise, giving herself away. Regardless, her mother, lips pressed tight, had given her a funny half-smile, then walked outside, closing the door behind her.

  Cold January air floated to Allie’s hideout.

  Allie had wanted so badly to run down the stairs and fly out the door, but she’d been frozen—not by temperature, but fear. And so she’d waited, until one of her father’s friends, Officer Manny, had helped her mother back inside. Her usually strong mother had walked all hunched over, as if someone had socked her in the stomach. Another policeman Allie hadn’t recognized followed her mom and Manny inside.

  His expression grim, th
is stranger glanced at her, then shook his head before vanishing into the living room.

  Again, Allie wanted to move, to demand her mother—anyone—tell her what was going on. Why these men were at her house in the middle of the night. But inside, she knew. She’d seen enough cop shows to know nothing good happened this late.

  And so she’d pushed herself to her feet, and somehow gotten down the hall to the bathroom where she’d thrown up—twice—then sat on the cold tile floor in front of the toilet, leaning against the porcelain tub hugging her knees.

  Daddy. Please, Daddy, come home.

  Maybe he was just sick, and these men had come to take her and her mother to the hospital? But if that were the case, wouldn’t they be rushing to see him?

  No, she knew.

  He was dead and never coming home.

  Back in the present, the back door slammed shut.

  Heart pounding, Allie’s mouth went dry. Was Caleb home, or were strangers coming to tell her…

  Though when she saw her dear Caleb, her insides turned quivery with relief and tears stung her eyes, she somehow managed to keep from leaping from the sofa and throwing her arms around him.

  “You’re back,” Allie said to Caleb, never looking up from the living room fire. Outside, cold rain still fell.

  Inside, it was raining, too.

  It might sound corny, but when a girl cried as much as she had over the past few hours, surely it counted as its own storm.

  “Cal all right?” he asked.

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Had to lay down with him and Milo for him to even try to sleep. He was worried about you.” So was I. “How are Adam and Bear and the rest of the crew?”

  “All good. Had their tires shot out. Guess because of the rain, we didn’t hear.”

  “Yeah. Well, you did a good job of driving.”

  “Thanks.” He shrugged off his leather jacket, stepping into the fire’s glow. He held out his hands to warm them, but the flickering flames were more about atmosphere than heat. “First thing after the wedding,” he said, “I’m going to make this sucker into a real, wood-burning fireplace. It rains too much around here not to have a good spot to come home and warm yourself.”