Duty to Defend

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  THE MARSHAL’S MISSION

  Working undercover at a day care, Deputy Marshal Daci Marlowe has one mission: protect a mother and her infant son from the woman’s fugitive ex-boyfriend. But when someone seems more focused on killing Daci, she and her partner, child-advocate attorney Jax Williams, must figure out why before it’s too late. With her family’s tragic past and her experience raising her siblings, Daci can’t help but relate to the woman and child—even as she’s drawn to Jax. Daci knows that Jax has his own harrowing past, though, one that makes the handsome defender keep her at arm’s length. But with each attempt on Daci’s life, Jax comes closer to both Daci and a dangerous truth.

  The heavy rat-a-tat of automatic-weapon fire shredded the night.

  Daci’s heart pounded like a trip-hammer as she grabbed for the small pistol she’d strapped to her ankle for tonight’s meeting, although what good the little peashooter might do against an automatic was anybody’s guess.

  Abruptly, the staccato burst of gunfire ceased, and Daci inched her head up above the hood of her car. With a screech of tires, the van raced away up the street.

  Other gunfire blended with hers, and she searched for the shooter. There! Jax was rushing up the middle of the street, pistol raised and blasting, but the van didn’t slow down as it disappeared into the night.

  Jax broke off chasing the fleeing vehicle and raced toward the bullet-riddled VW, calling her name. Panic edged his tone.

  Daci popped to her feet. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re bleeding.” He gestured toward her arm.

  She glanced down. Sure enough, warm blood trickled down her bare arm below the cap sleeve of her blouse. Now that the crisis was past, a hot burn in her biceps suddenly registered.

  “Just a graze. Nothing serious.”

  “Nothing serious? Are you kidding? Someone tried to kill you.”

  Jill Elizabeth Nelson writes what she likes to read—faith-based tales of adventure seasoned with romance. Parts of the year find her and her husband on the international mission field. Other parts find them at home in rural Minnesota, surrounded by the woods and prairie and four grown children and young grandchildren. More about Jill and her books can be found at jillelizabethnelson.com or Facebook.com/jillelizabethnelson.author.

  Books by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Evidence of Murder

  Witness to Murder

  Calculated Revenge

  Legacy of Lies

  Betrayal on the Border

  Frame-Up

  Shake Down

  Rocky Mountain Sabotage

  Duty to Defend

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  DUTY TO DEFEND

  Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  Blessed is he that considereth the poor:

  the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble.

  The Lord will preserve him, and keep him alive;

  and he shall be blessed upon the earth: and thou

  wilt not deliver him unto the will of his enemies.

  —Psalms 41:1–2

  To all the caregivers out there.

  You know who you are!

  Whether you care for aging parents,

  developmentally challenged children or adults,

  or a spouse or other loved one with

  challenges that need special care,

  you make the world a better place.

  Acknowledgments

  Bushel baskets of gratitude to my savvy editor

  at Love Inspired Suspense, Elizabeth Mazer,

  and to the rest of the editorial, copy and design staff that work so diligently to make each book the best it can be for our readers. Special blessings to my hubby, who puts up with a lot of shushing when I’m nearing manuscript deadline. Thanks so much for your patience, sweetheart! And a special shout-out to you readers. Your kind enthusiasm fuels my desire to write these stories. Bless you and read on!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Deadly Exchange by Lisa Harris

  One

  Stomach fluttering, Daci Marlowe paused outside her boss’s closed office door and ventured a tiny smile. This was it—her first assignment as a US deputy marshal.

  Finally!

  After dealing with her siblings’ toddler-then-teenage tantrums until her twenties had faded in the rearview mirror, she was more than ready to begin her own career. Not even the joker who had left the ribbon-bedecked basket with its smelly contents outside her duplex door this morning would cast a shadow on this moment.

  Oh, yes, she would find out who the culprit was. That was a promise. The medium-size wicker basket had contained one jar of opened and spoiled baby food, a baby bottle a quarter full of curdled formula, an assortment of crumpled and dried baby wipes, and a diaper anointed with what her nose told her was vinegar. The block-lettered note read, “ENJOY YOUR NEW LIFE.”

  The personal nature of the practical joke should have narrowed her suspect list to one of her rowdy siblings, but something didn’t quite fit, and she couldn’t put her finger on what was off. But if she went with the theory, her brother Nate would top the list because he was the only one who lived within easy driving distance of Springfield, Massachusetts. However, he, as well as her other siblings, had called either last night or early this morning to wish her well on her first day on the new job, and her deeply ingrained imp-o-meter hadn’t detected any pending mischief in their tones.

  What if the culprit was none of them but, instead, an unseen watcher of her life? The question slithered like a snake down her spine. Daci suppressed a shiver. Stupid thought. No one but one of her brothers or sisters would link the trials and tribulations of an older sister raising a small herd of younger siblings with her first day of work in the Marshals Service.

  She glanced down at herself for a quick ready-or-not inventory. Her shiny badge hung neatly from a lanyard around her neck. It lay face-out against her button-down shirt, while her government-issue firearm rested snug against her slacks-clad hip, its weight an underscore to the gravity of her new duties.

  Today, I honor your memory, Grandma, by joining those who bring criminals to justice.

  Inhaling a deep breath of law-enforcement office odors—scorched coffee, printer ink and stale pizza—she lifted her fist and rapped smartly on deputy commander Ross Reynolds’s door.

  “Come in!”

  Her boss’s gruff bark invited her into a square room just big enough to contain a large, well-used desk stacked with paperwork, a wheeled office chair in which he sat, a metal filing cabinet, and a pair of steel and plastic guest chairs. Daci suppressed a grin. Reynolds didn’t like people getting comfortable sitting around. Yet, someone already occupied one of the guest chairs. She had expected to see the thick, jowly man seated behind the desk. The lanky blond in a navy suit and coordinating tie who assessed her with cool blue eyes had not featured in her visualization of this moment.

 
; The stranger in the suit rose and stuck out his hand. “Jaxton Williams,” he said. “Call me Jax.”

  She shook the man’s long-fingered hand and murmured her name, following his lead by sticking to Daci, not the formal-sounding Candace. Jax’s grip was firm and betrayed slight calluses. Despite his clothes, the guy wasn’t a total pencil pusher, though not a member of the Marshals Service, either. What was he doing here?

  Her gaze darted to Reynolds, who had folded his hands over his middle-aged paunch. The corners of his lips twitched as if he battled amusement. Was she interrupting another meeting? Hadn’t she been told to report at 9:00 a.m. sharp? She resisted the impulse to check her watch.

  “Shut the door and have a seat so we can get started,” her boss said in that gravelly voice of his.

  Fixing her eyes on him, Daci complied. The mystery man resumed his seat, also. Apparently, she’d get the answers to her questions soon enough.

  Reynolds twiddled a pen between the thick fingers of his left hand, all humor erased. “You are aware of the situation with escaped felon Liggett Naylor.”

  “Of course, sir.” Her heart leaped.

  Surely, she wasn’t being assigned to the fugitive recovery task force. Rookies didn’t get high-profile cases. And this was as high profile as it got. Two deputy marshals were dead, for crying out loud, and the Marshals Service had a serious black eye for losing a major crime boss during transport from one detention facility to another.

  But if she wasn’t going to join the fugitive recovery task force, then why bring up Naylor at all? And what could this Jaxton Williams have to do with the case? She cast him a sidelong look. Faint swipes of gray highlighted the temples of his neatly trimmed blond hair, and crow’s-feet lined the corners of his eyes. Around forty probably, less than a decade older than her age of thirty-two. Good-looking in an upper-crust sort of way. She’d had her fill of that type.

  The stern set of his aquiline features and neatly squared shoulders screamed some sort of authority. A politician? Sure, that was it. The powers-that-be must be screaming for quick action against Naylor. But her deduction didn’t answer the question of why she would be included in a political pacification meeting between a bigwig and her boss.

  Reynolds pursed his lips. “It seems you have a particular skill set we need in this situation.”

  Daci’s breath caught. What skill set had captured her boss’s attention? Maybe he’d noticed the training record she’d set in Search and Seizure? Or the natural aptitude she’d demonstrated for interrogation? Few would suspect those skills were honed to a razor’s edge before entering the training academy. A person didn’t raise four younger siblings without morphing into a cross between professional detection dog and a finely calibrated lie detector.

  “When Naylor went down for multiple counts of murder, racketeering and grand theft,” Reynolds continued, “it’s a little-known fact that his girlfriend, Serena Farnam, caved under interrogation and told us where to find him. We don’t know if Naylor is aware of her role in his apprehension, but whether he knows or not, there is a slim chance he may be dumb enough to try to contact her—either to kill her in revenge or to reunite with her if he believes she’s still loyal. We need you to stick to this woman like grease on a rag until Naylor is apprehended.”

  Dry mouthed, Daci stared at her boss. Multiple questions flew through her mind, but only one stuck to her tongue. “Why me?”

  Reynolds looked away, focusing on some spot in the corner of the ceiling behind her head. Something about this situation had her boss a little reluctant—probably her inexperience. Daci sat up straighter. Whatever the mission, she’d do her best to exceed his expectations.

  Jaxton Williams angled his body toward her. “We think you stand a good chance of bonding with Serena at her new work site, maybe even becoming a trusted friend.”

  We? Daci gaped at him. Since when did a politician get consulted on Marshals Service assignments?

  Her boss’s gaze turned hard and sharp. “Because of his professional obligations to interact with Ms. Farnam—and his experience in the Marshals Service—Jax will be your backup in the woman’s work environment. Somewhat in her home, as well...provided you succeed in getting invited into Ms. Farnam’s social circle. We need you to make that happen.”

  Daci narrowed her eyes at the suit. “You’re a marshal?”

  “Former.” A grin lifted one side of his chiseled lips. “This guy here—” he motioned toward DC Reynolds “—used to be my team partner, but I changed careers about five years ago and became a—”

  “Kiddie lawyer,” Reynolds burst out.

  A wicked smile lit Jaxton’s face, sparking his blue gaze and propelling Daci’s silly heart into a backflip. “That’s Mr. Kiddie Lawyer to you, Rey-Rey.”

  “Big talk from the guy who sits behind a partition in a warehouse reno where the phones never stop ringing and the voices never stop jabbering.”

  “I like my wide-open spaces. Beats your claustrophobic ‘splendor’ any day of the week.” His gaze traveled the circumference of the small office. “And don’t forget my private conference room in the back. It’s furnished with a top-of-the-line folding table.”

  Reynolds snorted. “We can’t all hit the big time.”

  The guys grinned at each other, and Daci heroically resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her twin brothers, Nate and Noah, used to banter like this all the time at the dinner table, which was not a bad thing—usually. But the habit drove her nuts when she was trying to have a serious family discussion, and the discussion right now was about as serious as it got.

  She still had no idea where this assignment was taking her—other than cozying up to a vicious felon’s former girlfriend. It sounded like it would be an undercover operation—certainly an unusual choice for her first assignment. How would anyone come to the conclusion she had the skill set for this?

  “What exactly is a kiddie lawyer?” Daci enunciated her question with the slightly too loud, slightly too cold precision that used to get the boys’ attention at the meal table.

  The smirks fell away, and both men fixed their stares on her. Daci raised her eyebrows. Apparently, the method worked with adults, as well. Who knew?

  Jax offered a sober nod. “I work for a nonprofit specializing in defending the rights and best interests of juveniles and/or mentally and emotionally handicapped adults who have entered the social services system. We’re not in the system ourselves, so we can take on the system to address corruption or mismanagement if we need to do so. We follow our clients closely, even making regular visits to home or caregiver sites.”

  Warmth spread through Daci’s insides. Score a big one for the suit for choosing such a difficult, yet worthwhile, career. Numerous crises embedded in her past could have used such an advocate. She smiled at the nonprofit lawyer, and he blinked back. Did his square jaw drop a few millimeters? What was up with that? Her frizzy strawberry blond locks, barely contained by a wrap net at the nape of her neck, and well-defined but ordinary features weren’t exactly knock-’em-dead material.

  Reynolds cleared his throat. “Jax has accepted a temporary assignment with the Marshals Service for this case.”

  “Very temporary and limited in scope.” Jax’s intense gaze turned toward Daci’s boss. “My primary focus will be the child—not Serena, not even Naylor. That’s where our goals and interests intersect. If I have to choose between protecting the boy or apprehending Naylor, I will choose the child.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Reynolds nodded.

  Daci tapped a finger against her lower lip. “Am I correct in understanding that this child is Ms. Farnam’s son?”

  Honestly, it was like pulling teeth to find out what this case was all about. She’d learned during her orientation that Ross Reynolds was generally forceful and direct. Something about this situation had him tiptoeing like a ballerina on a crowded
bus.

  Her boss leaned his elbows on the scarred desk. “Yes, she has a little boy. A six-month-old infant that is assumed to also be Liggett Naylor’s son—another reason there’s an off chance he may try to contact her. You are assigned to shadow the mother under cover as her coworker. You and she will be starting work together on the same day, which should add additional opportunity for bonding.

  “Because Serena has problems that have called into question her fitness as a mother, she has lost custody of him—at least temporarily. Jax has been assigned to the son as his legal representative, which gets him access to monitoring the child. He also observes the mother at her workplace for confirmation that she is rehabilitating and during set times when mother and son are reunited for supervised home visits. When you’re around Serena, you and Jax are to behave as if you are strangers. But behind the scenes, the two of you will coordinate efforts on everything.”

  Daci shifted in her seat. What kind of parental-fitness problems? “How much do the people at this workplace know about the danger Serena Farnam may attract toward them? I mean, I don’t want to speak out of turn and say too much on the job.”

  “The director, Naomi Minch, knows the whole picture,” Jax answered. “I filled her in, and she agrees that Naylor would be a fool to approach his former girlfriend if he doesn’t want to be recaptured. He’s probably on his way out of the country as fast as he can go. However, she’s on board with the two of us operating under cover to keep an eye on the situation, just in case.”

  “Right.” Reynolds jerked a nod. “While Serena is aware that her former boyfriend is in the wind, she laughed when police suggested he might seek her out. According to her, before he was arrested, Naylor was already losing interest in her. He’s more than old enough to be her father and has a reputation for preying on vulnerable younger women, then discarding them. We offered protective custody or a protection detail, but she refused, so the arrangement we are discussing is Plan B. Serena has no idea we are planting undercover deputies. She needs to stay in the dark so she will trust you. Since her interaction with Jax has been somewhat adversarial, it will be important that she not realize you and he are working together. Now, go study the case file on your computer and get busy on this as of yesterday. Any further questions?”