“You were up late last night,” Burke said as she grabbed a spoon and settled into the chair beside Sophia.
“Yes,” she responded. She didn’t want to go into the reasons why.
“I heard you talking to Hunter.”
Her heart jumped, but she didn’t rise to the bait. Whatever he’d heard was none of his business. “I’m sorry if we woke you.”
“I was already awake. I heard you go downstairs, and I wanted to make sure you came back up.”
“I did.” She spooned yogurt into Sophia’s mouth, her appetite completely gone. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have, but it seemed as though she was going to.
“I know. Listen,” he said, taking the chair beside her and leaning toward her, his body relaxed, his expression neutral. “If you’re uncomfortable with Hunter escorting you to Antonio’s meeting today, I can do it.”
“Why would I be?”
“Just a feeling I have that there’s something going on between the two of you.”
“You’re wrong. There isn’t.”
“Not yet. But what’s going to happen in the next two weeks? Are you still going to be able to keep a professional distance between you? You’ve got to admit, the circumstances you’re in breed reliance and that can lead to feelings that a person normally wouldn’t have.”
She knew her cheeks were the color of ripe tomatoes, but she looked straight into his eyes. No way was she going to let him continue in the direction he was headed. “The only thing it’s breeding is a need for this trial to end so that I can get back to my life.”
He studied her for a long moment and then shrugged. “You’re lying to yourself if you really think that.”
“I’m not—”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, the old floorboards groaning.
“That’s Hunter,” Burke said. “If you want me to play escort today, now’s the time to say it.”
She didn’t have time to respond before Hunter walked into the room. Fresh from the shower, his hair still damp, his face newly shaven, he looked better than the first spring flower after a long winter.
Her pulse jumped, and she looked away. She realized that Burke was staring at her and spooned more yogurt into Sophia’s mouth.
“What’s going on?” Hunter asked.
“I was just offering to escort Annie to the meeting with Antonio today.”
“The plan is already worked out. There’s no need to change it,” Hunter responded as he crossed the room and poured coffee into a mug. He smelled like soap and some spicy aftershave that made Annie think of long hikes in a pine forest and rafting trips on the river. It made her think of the vices that he’d said he’d get her hooked on, and made her remember the way he’d looked when he’d said there was something between them that neither could deny.
He’d been right about that.
She couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t have to acknowledge it, either.
“I think that maybe there is,” Burke said, and Annie tensed.
“Okay. Go ahead. Spill it.” Hunter sat next to Annie, his arm brushing hers. Her muscles tightened in response, every nerve in her body demanding that she lean closer.
“You two are getting too close, Hunter. I think it’s time to put some distance between you.”
“We’re not—” Annie started to say, but Hunter cut her off.
“Have I ever been anything other than professional in my job?” he asked without a hint of emotion in his voice.
“There’s a first time for everything,” Burke replied. “So, how about you tell me where Antonio’s friend lives and let me escort Annie there? You take the day off and get some fresh air. Clear your head so you can think straight again.”
“I’m thinking plenty straight, and what I’m thinking is that we have a plan in place and there’s no reason to change it.”
“I’m looking out for your better interest, Hunter. I think you know that.”
“The only person you need to worry about is Annie. Last night, we agreed that the meeting site was going to be on a need-to-know basis. Only one person needs to know where it’s taking place. Three if you count Antonio and his friend. Until we find our leak, this is the way things have to be.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You came up with the idea, Burke. Not me.”
“That was before…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.
“What?” Hunter pressed.
“Nothing. I just thought I’d help you out, but if you don’t want it, I’m cool with taking the morning off.” Burke switched gears easily, his hard expression changing to one of easy acceptance.
Annie wasn’t sure he was as content with the outcome of the argument as he pretended to be, but both men let the subject drop.
“Are you ready to head out once Serena gets here?” Hunter turned his attention to Annie, his dark eyes blazing.
“Yes. How long do you think we’ll be gone?”
“A couple of hours,” he replied, taking a sip of coffee and grabbing a handful of blueberries from the container.
“I should probably make Sophia’s lunch and put it in the fridge. That way Serena won’t have to worry—”
“Too late,” Burke broke in. “She’s pulling into the driveway. Better get your purse so you can get out of here.”
She almost argued, but the two men were staring each other down, and she honestly didn’t want to hear them argue about her or the case.
“I’ll be right back, Sophia,” she said, dropping a kiss on her daughter’s head and hurrying from the room.
Hunter waited until the sound of Annie’s footsteps faded away, then he turned to Burke.
“What was that all about?” he demanded, glad to see that Burke had the decency to look embarrassed.
“I’m just trying to protect you, Hunter. You’re letting this case get to you.”
“The way you let the Simmons case get to you?” Burke had fallen hard for the witness in that case. He hadn’t broken protocol, but he’d come close, and they’d both known it.
When Audrey Simmons finally testified against her ex-husband, she’d gone deep into witness protection. As far as Hunter knew, that had been the end of things. He was sure that Burke would have liked more, though.
“That is exactly why I’m trying to protect you,” Burke admitted. “I don’t want you to make my mistake.”
“Don’t worry. Things are under control.”
“I hope so,” Burke muttered as Serena walked in through the laundry room.
“Everything okay in here?” she asked, her gaze jumping from Hunter to Burke and back again.
“Fine. We were just discussing today’s logistics.”
“Oh, I thought maybe you were talking about the new guy.” She poured herself some coffee. She’d chosen jeans and a T-shirt for babysitting duty and had pulled her hair into a ponytail.
“You mean Da…” Burke’s voice trailed off.
“Yes. I mean Daniel’s replacement,” she said as if it didn’t bother her.
Hunter knew it did. “We haven’t made any decisions about who that’s going to be yet, Serena. Once we do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“You’re considering Colton Philips, aren’t you?”
“His name has come up.” Colton had been working for the marshals for a while. He had a reputation for getting jobs done. He also had a reputation for doing things his way.
“And?” she demanded.
“I’m going to talk to him, but I don’t think he’ll be a good fit. He’s moved around a lot. Seems to have a reputation for skirting the rules.”
“Definitely not your kind of team member,” Burke said, his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed. He still didn’t seem all that happy. Maybe he had a thing for Annie. Something that went beyond just natural concern for a witness.
If so, Hunter couldn’t say he blamed him.
He still wasn’t going to switch the plan. “Would he be your kind?”
; “No,” Burke admitted. “I may do things my own way sometimes, but I’m not into the maverick type. They’re not good for team building.”
“Agreed. I’ll keep you guys posted.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to get Annie and head out.”
He was halfway through the living room when the floor at the top of the stairs creaked. He knew Annie was on her way down, but he walked to the staircase anyway.
She’d hooked her purse over her shoulder and pulled her hair into a high ponytail that brushed her nape. Head down, eyes focused on a piece of paper she was holding, she seemed oblivious to his presence.
“Ready?” he asked, and she jumped.
“I didn’t realize you were there,” she said with a little laugh.
“I wasn’t trying to make a secret of it. What are you studying? Notes for the trial?”
“No. I’m prepared for that. I’m just…” Her cheeks went three shades of red, and she folded the paper and shoved it into her purse.
“What?”
“Reminding myself why I’m doing this.”
“Going to talk to Steven Antonio?”
“Testifying.”
He didn’t say anything as he led her into the kitchen.
He was curious, though.
He wanted to know what was on the paper.
He waited while she kissed Sophia goodbye and gave Serena instructions that probably wouldn’t be followed. Serena would do her own thing with Sophia, and that would be fine. As long as the little girl was safe and happy, Hunter didn’t see any harm in that.
Once she was finished, he cupped her elbow and led her into the garage. He unlocked the door to the SUV, and she slid into the passenger seat. He was uncomfortably aware of her presence. He took his time getting into the SUV, letting the cold garage cool his blood and refocus his thoughts.
He had a job to do, and he needed to get it done.
Until he did, nothing else could matter.
THIRTEEN
Annie leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes. Maybe if she kept them closed, Hunter would make the trip in silence.
She should have known better.
“So, what was on the piece of paper you stuck in your purse?” he asked before they even pulled out of the garage.
“A list.”
“Of reasons why you’re testifying?”
“Yes.” As silly as it seemed, she’d written them down before she’d left St. Louis, and she’d carried them with her to Milwaukee and back again because she’d wanted to remember why she’d agreed to work with the marshals.
“What were they?”
She didn’t really feel like talking about them. She didn’t want to think about the horrible hours she’d spent after Joe’s murder. Didn’t want to remember how desperate she’d been to find Sophia or how scared she’d been that she never would.
She’d been at the hospital, dressed in a stranger’s clothes because hers had been taken as evidence, waiting and praying that the police would find Sophia and that she was okay.
When the door had opened and a police officer had walked in with Sophia, she’d almost passed out with relief. She’d stayed with her parents for the next week, huddled in her old room, terrified and grief-stricken.
Eventually, she’d identified the two men she’d seen in her kitchen. She’d have known either of them anywhere. John Fiske’s pinched weasellike face. Luke Saunders’s dragon tattoo dancing along his forearm as he’d pointed the gun in her direction.
She shuddered.
The police had arrested them both, and she’d been approached by Hunter. He’d asked her to testify and promised to keep her safe until trial. It had seemed like the right thing to do until a couple of days before she was supposed to leave town.
Then she’d doubted her choice, wondered if maybe she’d be better off staying in St. Louis. That was when she’d written the list.
It seemed like a lifetime ago, and she felt like a different person. Not the young and happy woman she’d been before Joe’s murder. A jaded, older version of herself.
The reasons she’d written a year ago seemed so naive, so simplistic.
“So, you’re not going to share?” Hunter asked as he backed out of the garage and pulled onto the quiet street.
“There’s nothing to share, really.”
“Which means there is plenty to share.” He glanced in the rearview mirror, probably making sure they weren’t being followed.
She resisted the urge to turn around and see for herself.
“I wanted to do it for Joe. I thought he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I wanted justice for him because it felt so unfair that he died for nothing.”
“It still is unfair, Annie. Just because your husband borrowed money from the wrong people doesn’t mean that he deserved to die,” Hunter said gently.
She knew he was right, but things had felt different since she’d found out about Joe’s secret life. It wasn’t that she thought he deserved what he’d gotten. It was just that she kept thinking that he could have prevented it. “I know, but he was part of the tragedy that happened to him. A knowing participant in the events that led to his murder. That doesn’t mean he deserved it, but it means that it could have been prevented.” She sighed and looked out the window. “That’s what I can’t forget.”
“And what you can’t forgive him for?”
“I’ve forgiven him, but I can’t seem to forget that all the plans and dreams and goals we had died with him. I can’t stop thinking that if he’d just been doing the things he’d said he was, he wouldn’t be dead, and we’d still be raising Sophia together.”
“Do you really think that?” he asked as he pulled onto the highway and headed toward the suburbs. “Because the way I read the Bible, we each have a certain number of days. Once those days are up, our lives on earth are over. There’s nothing we can do to stretch that number out, so we’ve got to live the best way we can every day that we have.”
He was right, but it was so much easier to think about other things. Like Hunter with a leather Bible in his tan hands. “You read the Bible?”
“You sound surprised.”
“I…guess I am.” He’d been accompanying her to church every Sunday since she’d returned to St. Louis, but she hadn’t realized that attending meant anything to him.
“Why?”
“Because you’re all about facts and figures and rules.”
“And that means I can’t have faith?” he asked with a short laugh.
“No, but you’ve never mentioned it.”
“It isn’t something I talk about to witnesses.”
“You’re talking about it now,” she pointed out.
“Because the subject came up.” He sighed. “And because I’ve been thinking about it a lot more lately. I guess that’s what happens when you go to church every Sunday.”
“You weren’t doing that before?”
“Sleeping seemed a little more important than getting up early to attend services.” He offered a wry smile. “Thanks to you, I’ve learned the error of my ways. But we weren’t talking about me and my mistakes. We were talking about Joe and how hard it is for you to forgive him.”
“It isn’t hard,” she protested, but it was.
No matter how many times she told herself that she’d forgiven Joe, she couldn’t let go of the pain. He’d lied to her, betrayed her trust and then he’d been killed.
It was all tied up together in a knot of unhappiness that spent most of its time sitting right in the center of Annie’s chest. Some days, it was so heavy and tight she could barely breathe.
“It is hard, Annie, because you were supposed to have an entire lifetime with someone who promised to love and honor you. Instead you’re raising your daughter by yourself, spending your days locked away because you’re afraid for your life. You took vows before God. You lived by them, but Joe didn’t, and now you’re left cleaning up the mess he left behind.”
He was right.
She couldn’t deny it.
She stared out the window, watching as trees and houses whizzed by, hot tears burning her eyes.
“It’s okay to admit that you’re angry,” Hunter said quietly.
“What good will that do? Joe will still be dead. I’ll still be alone raising a little girl who will never know her father.” She sounded pitiful, and she hated that. She’d always tried to maintain an attitude of thanksgiving, but over the past year that had been difficult.
She knew that God had a purpose and plan for everything. Even the hard things.
That didn’t make it any easier to go through.
“You’re not alone. You have me and my team.” He patted her thigh, his hand warm through her cotton dress. Even after he pulled away, the warmth of his touch lingered.
“That’s even more pitiful than being alone.” She kept her voice light, tried hard not to let any of her feelings seep into the words. There was no place for them in her life. Not then. Probably not ever.
“It’s not pitiful, and neither are you,” he said as if he’d read her mind, knew exactly what she’d been thinking.
“At this moment, Hunter, you are the closest thing I have to a friend and, aside from Sophia, the closest thing I have to family. If that’s not ridiculously pitiful, I don’t know what is. So, how about we change the subject?”
“To what?”
“Did the police find anything at the apartment complex yesterday?”
“A homemade explosive device. Small. The car it was in was parked away from other vehicles,” Hunter replied. He’d wondered how long it would take before she changed the subject.
“So, whoever planted it didn’t want to hurt anyone?”
“It’s hard to say.”
“But you have an opinion about it, I’m sure.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh. The same thigh he’d patted. Unintentionally. He hadn’t been thinking about the job, protocol, right and wrong. He’d just been thinking about Annie and how hard things had been for her since her husband’s murder.
He also hadn’t been thinking that that simple touch would warm his blood, leave him wanting more.
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “My opinion,” he said, trying to refocus his thoughts, “is that the bomb was a distraction. The perp didn’t intend to hurt anyone with it. He detonated it remotely. Which means he was either waiting somewhere close by, watching for you to exit the apartment, or he had someone else close enough to do it for him.”
Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 Page 12
