by Lisa Harris
Jonas noticed the red stain that had already begun to spread across Ryan’s sleeve and down his bare arm.
“You’re going to have to hang in there for the moment,” he said. “We’ve got four armed men headed our way.”
“Is there another exit?” Madison asked.
Ryan inhaled sharply. “There’s a window in the bathroom that’s big enough to squeeze through.”
Jonas pulled Ryan off the floor, then helped him toward the bathroom. “Do you know that from experience?”
Ryan winced at the movement. “I might have had to make a quick exit once or twice.”
“What’s behind the apartment?” Jonas asked.
“Just an alley with a couple dumpsters and a maintenance shed.”
Jonas jumped on top of the toilet, then forced open the window above it, while Madison held on to Ryan, who was leaning against the wall, groaning. The crack of splintering wood came from the front of the apartment as Jonas shoved out the screen. This was no simple drive-by shooting. These men were going to make sure their targets were taken out.
He motioned at Madison to go through first. As soon as she was on the ground on the other side, he hoisted Ryan up to the window. The front door in the living room slammed against the wall as the men filed inside.
“Hurry, hurry!”
They had seconds to get out. He wasn’t sure if any information they got out of the man was worth this, but if they left Ryan now, it would be a death sentence.
As soon as the opening was clear, he squeezed through the window, feet first, emerging on the other side just in time. Madison had already pulled Ryan behind a dumpster, but it wasn’t going to be long until the men figured out where they’d gone.
Ryan leaned against the side of the dumpster, blood dripping down his arm. “I’m not feeling too good. I don’t know if I can go any further.”
“It’s just a graze,” Madison said.
“No . . . you need to get me to a hospital. I could bleed out before we leave the parking lot. Please. I don’t want to die. I have a kid.”
Jonas bit back his irritation. “You’ll survive the gunshot, but if they catch up to us, you will die. Where does this alley lead?”
Ryan paused, still staring at his arm. “To the main street where there are a couple strip malls.”
“Okay. We should be able to lose them if we move quickly.”
“But my arm—”
“You’re just going to have to move, Ryan.”
A shot rang out of the bathroom window, hitting a cement slab nearby. Jonas shot back, giving cover to Madison and Ryan as they ran down the alley. He fired off a couple more rounds, then took off after them.
They reached the end of the alley, and Jonas quickly assessed the strip malls on either side of the busy road. A storefront three doors down caught his attention. He called out to Madison to follow him. The door buzzed as they walked in. Inside was a mismatched selection of food, beauty products, and car parts. It would have to work for the moment.
Jonas held up his badge at the man standing behind the counter. “Do you have any customers in here?”
The employee shook his head. “No. It’s just me.”
“Good. I want you to lock the door, then go hide in the back until I tell you otherwise.”
“What’s going on?” he asked, eyes widening.
Jonas ignored his question. “We’re going to do everything we can to keep you safe.”
The man froze.
“Go. Now.”
The man nodded finally and hurried to lock the front door, then scurried to the back of the store.
“Find something to patch him up and keep him quiet. I’ll call for backup,” Jonas said to Madison, then turned to Ryan. “Stay away from the front window.”
“This is the last thing I ever imagined,” Ryan said, walking through the rows of the store. “Running like a fugitive in the middle of the city.”
“And don’t talk,” Madison said, as she grabbed a few items off a shelf.
Jonas put in a call to his boss.
“What’s your status?” Michaels asked.
“We need backup. We’ve got a wounded Ryan Kent with us and someone doesn’t want him talking. Our car’s currently cut off by four armed men who are after us.”
“Where are you?”
“Holed up in a strip mall a block from the apartments.”
Michaels started shouting orders in the background. “We’re tracking your phone now. Stay where you are.”
“What happens if they start checking the stores and they find us?” Ryan asked, while Madison bandaged his arm in order to stop the bleeding.
“Then we fight them off.”
Ryan’s face managed to pale a shade whiter than it already was. “Two against four? Are you kidding?”
Jonas frowned. “This is why you don’t get involved in couriering packages for criminals.”
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. “Ouch.”
“Stop fighting me,” Madison said. “If you stop moving, it won’t smart so much.”
“Sorry, but it hurts. Have you ever been shot?”
“She has, actually.” Jonas crossed his arms over his chest, a steely look covering his face.
Ryan turned away, his mouth finally shut. But no doubt it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Sirens whirled in the distance.
“Do I have to come with you?” he asked, wincing again as Madison finished up.
“The way I look at it, you have two choices,” she said. “You can go back home and take your chances with whoever’s after you. Alone. Or you can come with us.”
“And if word gets out that I’m holed up in a US Marshals’ office?”
Jonas shot him another irritated look. “I won’t tell, if you don’t.”
They made it out the back door of the strip mall and all the way to the marshals’ offices without more than a dozen words from Ryan. Michaels sent someone to retrieve their car before they made it back.
As they entered the interrogation room, Jonas motioned for Ryan to sit down at the table, then he took a seat across from him, with Madison standing behind him.
“Can I at least have something to eat?” Ryan asked, breaking his self-imposed silence.
“I was hoping we were done with the whining,” Madison said.
“I’ve been shot, chased, and pretty much had the most terrifying day of my life. So yeah, it kind of makes me want to keep whining.”
Jonas tapped the table. “Then let’s put an end to all of this. Are you ready to tell us who ordered that hit? Because it’s been a long day, and I’m ready to go home. But unless I get some answers from you, it’s going to be a very long night.”
Ryan stared down at his hands. “I meant it when I said he’ll kill me.”
“Yes—we experienced that just now,” Jonas said. “Which means getting him off the streets is your only way out.”
Ryan didn’t look convinced. “He doesn’t do his own dirty work.”
“He also clearly doesn’t trust you.” Madison leaned forward, resting her palms on the table. “He probably knows you looked inside the package. You actually should be thankful we were there to save you. Because this isn’t going to just disappear.”
“Fine.” Ryan scratched at a spot on the table. “His name is Adam Cain.”
Jonas glanced back at the one-way mirror, knowing Michaels was listening to every word being said.
“Tell me about him,” Jonas said, turning back to face Ryan.
“He’s been super paranoid lately. Apparently, there are a couple Feds who have been poking around, trying to find him. So he’s been lying low. Using couriers like me.”
“He’s a forger?” Madison asked.
“Yeah.”
“And how does someone find out about his services?”
He shrugged, then winced and reached for the bandage on his arm. “You have to know the right people and do a bit of asking around. He usually only works on recommendations from people he
trusts in order to make sure he’s not being set up, but honestly, I don’t get involved in what he’s doing. I drop off packages or pick things up for him. That’s it.”
“Where can we find him?” Jonas asked.
“Like I said, he’s lying low and hiding out. Even I don’t know.”
“Then how do you communicate with him?”
“We use a burner phone.”
Jonas signaled for Madison to step out of the room with him. Michaels was waiting on the other side of the glass.
“The guy’s telling the truth,” Michaels said. “Adam Cain popped up on a wanted database.”
“Do you have any idea how to find him?” Jonas asked.
“Apparently, the Feds have been after him for months in connection with several different cases, but so far they haven’t been able to track him down. He seems to be pretty good at staying invisible.”
Jonas rolled his eyes. “So we’re looking at another dead end?”
“Maybe,” Madison said. “But if Jesse and Nadia found a way to get ahold of him, that means we can too.”
Madison’s phone rang and she excused herself to take the call. When she turned back to them, she had a dazed look on her face.
“Who was that?” Jonas asked.
“My neighbor.” She stared at the phone.
“Madison, what’s wrong?”
“She just called 911. Someone broke into my house.”
TWENTY-ONE
Madison grabbed her bag off the desk. “I need to go—”
“Of course.” He followed her to the door. “But I’m going with you.”
She thought about telling him he didn’t need to come with her. That she could handle the situation. But she stopped herself. She’d gotten used to doing everything on her own for so long, it was nice having someone have her back.
They headed out of the building, toward the parking lot. “And I’ll drive,” he said.
It was early evening, and the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, creating a soft, golden glow over the city.
“I’m fine, Jonas. A bit shook up, I’ll admit, but I don’t even know for certain if anyone actually got in.”
Jonas clicked on the key fob and unlocked his vehicle. “I just don’t want you to have to worry about traffic on top of everything else.”
But she knew what he was really thinking. The last time someone had broken into her house, she was home alone, and they shot her.
A car backfired on the main road, making Madison jump.
“Are you okay?” Jonas asked.
“Yeah. I’m sorry.” She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “I guess I’m more on edge than I thought I was.”
She slid into the passenger seat, then closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. Her counselor had given her tips on how to recover repressed memories. She’d watched her diet, tried hypnosis, and done cognitive therapy, but none of that had managed to surface the truth about what had happened that day three months ago.
Memories from the past forced their way to the forefront of her mind. She’d just arrived home after a stressful week of chasing a fugitive halfway across the country. She was exhausted and glad to be home with a couple days off ahead. Then she’d heard something in the house.
She squeezed her eyes tighter as Jonas headed toward the freeway, willing herself to relive the experience. The house she and Luke had bought together had been old and always made strange noises. But something had been different. She’d pulled out her weapon and started walking through the first floor, making sure she was alone. She’d cleared the rooms, finally deciding she’d imagined something. Once her guard was off, she set her service weapon on the counter and started making a protein shake.
And then someone . . . someone had been standing there, in her kitchen, pointing a gun at her.
“What is going to happen?” she’d asked the intruder, trying to plan out her next move.
“We’ll talk a few more minutes, then I’m going to shoot you.”
A piece of the puzzle had clicked into place.
“Like you did to my husband?” she’d asked.
Panic engulfed her. Madison opened her eyes, but as hard as she tried to hold on to the memory, it was gone. No different than a lost dream after you wake up. There in vivid detail one moment, and then gone forever. She let out a sharp breath of air, trying to picture whoever had been holding the gun. If she could just see their face . . .
“Madison? What’s wrong?” Jonas’s gentle voice brought her back to the present.
She rubbed her temples in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension in her head. Her hands felt clammy. “I don’t know, I heard that noise, and then for a moment, it was like I was there again. Standing in my house in front of the shooter.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I still can’t see their face.” Who pulled the trigger?
“You will . . . you just have to give it time.”
She pulled at the seat belt strapped across her chest. Suddenly it felt like a noose. “It’s been three months. I can’t see them, but I can still feel the panic.”
“Has that happened before?” he asked. “Something triggering a memory?”
She paused for a second before answering. “Once.”
He flipped on his blinker, then took the exit toward her house. “The psychologist told you this was a normal part of the healing process.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe the pieces are starting to slowly come back.”
“Just give it some time.”
She nodded but couldn’t help but feel that time was running out.
The police had already arrived at the house by the time they pulled into the driveway. Madison jumped out of the car and hurried to the porch, where one of the officers stood, talking into his radio. Her next-door neighbor Venessa was talking to a second officer in front of her house, holding her six-month-old daughter, Charlotte.
Madison introduced herself as the homeowner. “My neighbor called and said someone was breaking into my house.”
“Officer Acosta,” the police officer said, shaking her hand. “My partner is talking with your neighbor right now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone on the property, but we haven’t searched the house yet. Your neighbor actually got video of the suspect, though from what I’ve seen, it’s not enough to ID our suspect.” The balding man rubbed his chin. “That said, there has actually been a string of break-ins in this area over the past couple months, so there’s a good chance it’s connected. The suspect breaks into the back of the house while another stands guard. The first grabs what he can and is in and out within a matter of minutes.”
Madison frowned at the information. “So more than likely, someone has been watching my house.”
“It is possible,” Acosta said.
So much for moving to a safer neighborhood.
“We need to make sure the house is clear,” Jonas said.
Acosta held up his hand. “Don’t worry, folks. My partner and I are about to handle that ourselves.”
Madison grabbed her badge and showed it to the officer and his partner, who had just returned from Venessa’s house. “We’re US Marshals,” she told them.
“I see, then,” Acosta’s partner said, shrugging. “It can’t hurt to have more hands on deck. We can clear the house together.”
Madison pulled out her service weapon, then unlocked the front door. The alarm pad was off. Had she forgotten to set it when she left the house yesterday morning? Setting the alarm had become a habit, but she had been distracted.
She began systematically going through the ground level of the house with Jonas while the two officers headed to the unfinished basement. There were a number of boxes in the three-bedroom house she still hadn’t unpacked, but for now, they were neatly stacked up between what would one day be a guest room and her office. The second floor held the master bedroom and bath she’d repainted, but there was no sign of a burglar. The house was clear.
“Does it look like anything was taken?” Jonas asked as the officers headed outside.
She opened a couple dresser drawers, her irritation growing. “I had some cash here that’s gone. Less than a hundred dollars. A few pieces of jewelry.”
She checked out the bathroom, then returned to the main floor, taking a mental inventory as she went back through, more slowly this time. “The only other thing I’m noticing right off the bat is a missing bottle of prescription pain medicine I had left over from my surgery.”
Jonas holstered his Glock. “Then, like the officer said, it’s likely this is connected to the string of robberies.”
Maybe, but she still wasn’t convinced. The uneasiness she’d been feeling since Venessa’s call settled inside of her. What if this wasn’t connected to the burglaries, but had something to do with whoever had broken into her house the last time? What if she had been here when they broke in?
“Madison?”
A shiver slid through her as she turned back to Jonas. “Sorry. I’m just trying to process all of this.”
“I know what you’re thinking.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “But there’s no reason to assume this is connected to the last break-in.”
“But it could be.” She pulled her hand out of his. “We both know that.”
She stepped back outside onto the front porch and let the words hang between them. She had no idea why someone had shot her. Or what they might want by breaking into her house a second time. But she couldn’t simply dismiss the idea that they were connected.
Officer Acosta finished searching the outside perimeter and headed up the sidewalk toward them. “Is anything missing?”
“Some jewelry, cash, and a bottle of prescription painkillers,” Madison said.
“How much cash?”
“Less than a hundred dollars. And the jewelry wasn’t necessarily valuable. More sentimental. Other than that, I don’t keep a lot of valuables in the house.” Madison glanced over at her neighbor Venessa. She turned to the officer. “I’d like to talk to her.”
“Of course, though she’s pretty upset. Worried about the break-in being so close to her.”
Jonas and Acosta followed Madison across the grass to where Venessa stood with a wide-awake Charlotte on her hip.