by Laura Scott
“Apparently Roland Perry’s status was on a need to know basis, and my job as Brett’s handler wasn’t enough to put me in that group.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in Slade’s tone.
“Nettles killed an undercover cop.” Duncan sighed. “We better hope Brett wasn’t lying about that, and that he really did have evidence.” He met Slade’s gaze. “We can’t let a cop killer walk.”
“I know.” Slade’s voice held a note of resignation. “And I’d love nothing more than to prevent that from happening, but you have to understand my main job for the foreseeable future is to protect Chelsey.”
Duncan knew that all too well. He wanted to be the one to protect her, but soon he’d be forced to hand her over to Slade Brooks permanently.
If Chelsey was right about God’s plan, then maybe his role was to help solve the crime. After all, that was what cops like him did. Arrest the bad guys and toss them in jail.
If that was all he could do for Chelsey, then he wouldn’t rest until he’d accomplished that task.
* * *
Chelsey forced herself to put some distance between her and Duncan. She had to stop leaning on him like this. The sooner she figured out how to manage on her own, the better.
Duncan couldn’t assist with her transition into her new life. Apparently, that was Slade’s job.
She tried to take solace that she wouldn’t be alone, but knew it wouldn’t be the same. Slade was a nice guy, handsome and dedicated, but he wasn’t Duncan.
Her feelings toward Duncan were spiraling out of control. Worse than the way she’d fallen so quickly for Brett after her mother’s death. She knew that these tender feelings she had for Duncan might not be real, but over the past two days, she’d learned he was far more honorable than Brett.
Which still didn’t mean she was falling in love with him. Not like the tepid feelings she’d had for Brett, but for real.
The way her parents had loved each other for over thirty years.
“Colt is bringing pizza for dinner,” Slade said. “With daylight savings time, I’d like to wait until ten o’clock before heading over to Jackson.”
“At least we have a few clouds rolling in,” Duncan pointed out. “The quarter moon shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”
“We’ll drive without lights until we’re out on the highway,” Slade agreed. “From there we should be okay.”
Chelsey tried not to worry too much about getting out of Moose and to the Teton Valley Hotel. Of more concern was what they would, or wouldn’t, find there.
Hearing that Nettles had killed an undercover cop was sobering. Had the murder been done because they’d uncovered his real identity? Or because they’d simply found him snooping around? Murder seemed a drastic punishment for snooping, but if organized crime was involved, she doubted they let little things like morals get in the way.
The evening hours went by slowly. The pizza was good, and the guys seemed relaxed as they sat around her at the table. It was almost as if they were just hanging out, rather than getting prepared for a dangerous expedition.
Exhaustion began to weigh her down at about nine o’clock. Duncan urged her to stretch out on the sofa for a while. She didn’t argue. Better to get a little nap in now, in preparation for what could be a long night.
She didn’t think she’d really get any rest, but she must have dozed because Duncan’s hand on her shoulder gently shook her awake. “Chels? It’s time.”
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she sat up, adjusted the bulky bullet-resistant vest and nodded. “Okay.”
Slade, Colt and Duncan escorted her outside. There weren’t streetlights in Moose, but lights were visible from various apartment windows. The mountains behind them were nothing but dark shadows, and she hoped that meant that anyone lurking there wouldn’t be able to see them clearly, either.
“What if they have night vision goggles?” she whispered as they headed outside.
“We’ve got you covered, Chelsey,” Duncan assured her. “Besides, the assailant on the mountain didn’t have them and neither did the guy who broke into the cabin. As much as they think they’re professionals, they wouldn’t have lasted long in Afghanistan.”
Slade eyed him thoughtfully. “You served over there?”
Duncan nodded, but didn’t elaborate.
She slid into the back seat of the SUV, followed by Duncan. The two marshals sat in front, and as planned, Slade drove out of the driveway without using his lights.
A tense silence reigned inside the vehicle, but after ten minutes and reaching the highway without a problem, the guys relaxed a bit.
Chelsey rested against Duncan. He kissed the top of her head, and she tried not to remember the heat of his kiss. Slade made exceptionally good time getting to Jackson. As they headed toward Teton Valley Hotel, Chelsey straightened and looked around.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, maybe dozens of police vehicles still surrounding the place, but everything looked normal.
As if a groom being shot just before his wedding had never happened.
Slade hit the lights as they approached the hotel. Her map must have been pretty good, because Slade found the service drive leading to the loading dock without difficulty.
Tension returned as Slade, Duncan and Chelsey eased out of the SUV. Colt was designated to stay with the SUV and to watch the back door and the road. Large garbage dumpsters were located back there, too, and Chelsey wrinkled her nose at the ripe scent.
The guys didn’t seem to notice. With Duncan in the front, and Slade behind her, they made their way up toward the employee-only entrance. Chelsey punched in the key code and the door opened with a click.
No one spoke as they went inside. Duncan walked in front of her, so she gently pushed him in the direction of her office. The hour wasn’t that late, going on eleven thirty at night, but there was no sound of activity coming from the area of the lobby.
Chelsey fought her instinct to go find out what was going on. Had the hotel lost business after the wedding fiasco? Had people cancelled their reservations because of the violence?
She reminded herself it didn’t matter, because she wasn’t going to be managing the hotel anymore. Upon reaching her office door, she tried the knob, belatedly realizing she didn’t have a key.
What bride carried her keys down the aisle?
The door was locked. She looked up at Duncan in horror. He glanced at Slade and nodded. The US marshal nudged her aside then pulled some tools out of his pocket and went to work.
She’d never watched anyone pick a lock before and was impressed at how easy Slade made it look. A minute later, he pushed the office door open. Duncan went in first, with Chelsey directly behind him.
Not until Slade closed the door behind him did Duncan use the penlight Ranger Paul Davidson had given him. He made a wide arc with the light, verifying there was no one else in the office.
Eerily, the place looked as if she’d just left it. Maybe Trish was waiting for her to return. Chelsey instinctively moved to her desk and the stack of folders sitting off to the right. She lifted them, searching for the yellow honeymoon folder that she remembered Brett tucking under the pile.
It was gone.
“What’s wrong?” Duncan whispered.
“The folder isn’t where I expected it to be.” Her stomach knotted painfully, and she quickly began to search the entire desktop.
The folder had to be here, it just had to be!
“Which room was Brett using?” Duncan asked. “I can check the place out while you keep searching here.”
“Room 112, but I don’t have a key and I don’t think your lock picks will work on the room doors.” She shifted another stack of papers aside. “I know the folder is here somewhere.”
“Should I check the file drawers?” Slade offered.
She shook her head, trying to ignore
the pounding of her heart. “Duncan? Shine your light here, please.”
Duncan came up to stand behind her, so that she could see her desk. A glint of yellow caught her eye and she shoved the pad of paper aside and uncovered the folder. “Got it.”
“Let’s see what’s inside.” Slade came up to stand beside her. Duncan kept the narrow beam of the flashlight centered on the folder as she opened it up.
The photograph on top was an ad for an exclusive honeymoon resort. She shoved it aside without a second glance, riffling through the rest of the contents. It wasn’t until the back of the folder that she found two photographs.
The picture was a little grainy, but not enough that she couldn’t make out two men standing in a large building filled with boxes that appeared to be labeled with the Coyote Creek Construction logo. One man, a guy who looked vaguely like the picture of Anthony Nettles, held a gun and was clearly threatening the other man who she now recognized as Roland Perry. The second picture showed the man with the gun, and Perry lying on the ground in a dark pool of blood.
“That’s it,” Duncan said in a low, hoarse voice.
“I can’t believe he kept this from us,” Slade whispered harshly. “If he’d have turned this over to me right away, he’d still be alive.”
“Take them.” She stepped away from the desk. “I’m just glad we found them.”
Slade picked up the folder when his cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and quickly answered. “Colt? What’s wrong?”
It was so quiet in the office it was easy to hear Colt’s response. “We have company. Black truck just pulled in.”
Chelsey froze and glanced at Duncan. “I know this hotel like the back of my hand. We’ll find a way out.”
“Colt? Stay out of sight. We’ll be in touch.” Slade disconnected from the call. “All right, Chelsey. Let’s go.”
Swallowing her fear, she gently turned the knob of her office door and cracked it open. For the first time since Brett’s murder, she was responsible for the lives of these two men.
A heavy burden. Please, Lord, show me the way!
FOURTEEN
Duncan put a hand on Chelsey’s shoulder, preventing her from going out of the office. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Me first. Tell me which way to go.”
She shook her head. “Too difficult to navigate. Follow me.”
He didn’t like it, but arguing was a waste of time they didn’t have. It seemed as if their planned late-night escape from Moose had only postponed being found by the bad guys, not circumvented it.
They should have gotten in and out of Chelsey’s office as quickly as possible.
Over Chelsey’s shoulder he could see the hallway was deserted and quiet. She moved out and headed in the opposite direction from which they’d come in. He tensed, hoping she wasn’t planning to take them to the front door.
She didn’t. Instead, she turned down another hallway, going past a couple of conference rooms that were thankfully empty. She turned right and led them down a narrow hallway with hotel room doors located on either side.
It was pretty quiet for a hotel, although thinking back, he realized the wedding was on Saturday so that meant today was Monday. Not as much going on, apparently even in June.
“Colt? What’s happening?” Slade asked softly. “We’re heading toward the north end of the building.”
“See you soon.” In the quiet hallway Duncan could hear Colt’s muffled response without the phone being on speaker.
Duncan glanced over his shoulder at Slade. “He didn’t answer your question.”
Slade gave a curt nod. “I know.”
At the end of the hallway, there was a door leading outside to a flat parking lot.
Once again, he rested his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from going outside. “Wait for Colt.”
She nodded and peered through the glass door. From what he could see of the parking lot, there was a scattering of cars on the left, all of them close to the door. For whatever reason, there weren’t many cars parked on the right. Maybe they were parked closer to their rooms, overlooking the mountains.
The hotel was located in a valley—the mountains circled the property on all sides—which is why the loading dock was tucked away in the back of the building.
There was a niggling itch along the back of his neck, a sixth sense telling him something wasn’t right. They’d gotten the evidence against Anthony Nettles but needed to stay alive long enough to use it.
A dark shape came around the corner from the right side of the building. Chelsey pushed against the door, but he held her back, waiting. Slade’s phone vibrated.
“That you, Colt? Okay, we’re coming,” Slade said.
The SUV rolled to a stop right across from the door. Duncan nudged Chelsey aside so he could go first. Less than a minute later, they were in the back seat of the SUV.
Colt drove slowly, going around the corner, then pulling up into a parking spot between two other cars. He shut down the engine, then turned to look at them. “I think we need to stay down for a while, long enough for the black truck to leave.”
“Good idea,” Slade said. “We’ll stay low.”
Duncan made sure Chelsey was crouched behind the passenger seat before doing the same.
They’d been settled in their hiding spots for only five minutes when bright headlights slowly swept past them. No one moved or spoke. Duncan had no doubt the vehicle would take a second pass, maybe even a third before leaving.
Unless...he swallowed hard. What if they decided to go from car to car searching for them? It wouldn’t take long to uncover their hiding spot. He found himself praying they wouldn’t. Praying didn’t come naturally to him, but he bowed his head so his chin was resting on his chest.
Please, Lord, guide us through this danger.
Chelsey shifted, ever so slightly. He glanced over and whispered, “You okay?”
“Yes.” A second later, the headlights washed over them again.
He didn’t like it. “Colt? We may have to make a run for it. I’m worried they’ll send someone to search each vehicle on foot. The alarm won’t help if they have a gun.”
“Already on it,” Colt answered. “I timed their sweep. In two minutes, I’m going to get us out of here. You and Chelsey need to stay down.”
“Okay.” Duncan flashed an encouraging look at Chelsey. “We can do this.”
She nodded. “With God’s help.”
“Yes.” There wasn’t time to say anything more as Colt fired up the engine and backed out of the parking spot. From Duncan’s position behind the driver’s seat, he couldn’t tell if Colt was using his headlights or not.
Colt didn’t waste any time but headed straight out of the parking lot back out onto the highway. “Slade? Ideas on where to go from here? Take interstate 191 southeast or go off on the less traveled highway 20?”
“Stay on the main highway, more traffic that way.”
Traffic? Duncan swallowed a protest. Wyoming didn’t have traffic. Not like Chicago and other big cities did. “Don’t forget you’re flying Chelsey out of Jackson Hole Airport in the morning.” He peered at his watch, his stomach clenching at the time. Midnight. “Which is only eight hours from now.”
“Turn here,” Slade said with urgency.
Colt cranked the wheel, taking a hard right. “Why?”
“Duncan’s right, we need to stay in Jackson. I know there are a couple of hotels roughly seven to eight miles from the airport.”
“Okay, but we’ll need to find a place to hide the vehicle,” Colt said. “If they start searching parking lots, they may recognize this one.”
“Understood,” Slade agreed.
Duncan’s back and knees were starting to protest the uncomfortable position, but he ignored the aches and pains, more concerned with how Chelsey was doing. “How much
longer, Colt?”
“Ten minutes,” the marshal responded.
“Thanks.” He stared at Chelsey. Eight hours to go before she’d be flown out of Wyoming, for good. The SUV slowed, then made a couple of turns before coming to a stop within the designated timeline.
“Stay down until I can get a couple of rooms,” Slade instructed before easing out of the passenger seat.
It didn’t take long for Slade to obtain two connecting rooms. Duncan stayed behind Chelsey as they headed inside, glad that their ground-floor rooms had easy access in and out.
“I’ll park the SUV somewhere safe,” Colt said. “Don’t worry about how long I’m gone. It’ll take me a while to hike back from the resort.”
Duncan walked Chelsey through the connecting door to her room. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, even though there was so much he wanted to tell her.
“I’m tired but not sure I’ll be able to sleep,” Chelsey confided, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “It’s all been so surreal. I don’t know anything about where I’ll be at this time tomorrow.”
He sat in the only chair in the room, across from her. “I wish there was a way you could stay.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “I think we both know that’s impossible. The fact that they followed us to the hotel proves they won’t stop until they get what they want.”
He was very much afraid she was right. “I don’t think they know about the evidence—maybe they believe we were there to get your personal things.”
“Maybe.” Chelsey looked down at the floor. “It’s hard to accept the inability to take personal photographs with me.”
“I can grab them for you,” he offered. “That way if things change down the road you’ll know that you’ll be able to have them back some day.”
“Really?” The offer caused her face to light up. “I’d love that, thanks.”
“No problem.” He hesitated, thinking back once again to his family back in Milwaukee. His dad, who might be marrying Maggie Callahan; his sister, Shayla, and her two kids. “I’ll go with you, Chelsey.”
