Shadrach looked down. John sprang into action, pulled the sniper’s hand behind his back and arched it so he couldn’t reach his weapon. As he grabbed Shadrach’s other arm, Sam slipped his knife in the strap and the rifle fell to the ground.
Dauntless stretched tall and growled, teeth bared at them.
“What are you doing?” Nadia’s cry echoed through the clearing. “You said you wouldn’t arrest him! John!” She grabbed the sheriff’s arm, but he shook her off.
“Back up, Nadia.”
“You said you weren’t going to arrest him!”
“I never said that. He broke into town. I have to uphold the security rules Sanctuary has in place, even when I don’t like them. Your brother cannot walk free.” John frowned.
It wasn’t Sam’s greatest moment, either. This man was a hero who’d been placed in a tough position.
Nadia stepped in front of her brother. “Let him go, John.”
“Move out of the way, Nadia.”
Sam grabbed the rifle and led Nadia Marie away from the sheriff and her brother. “Let him do his job. Please. This doesn’t have to be tough on any of us, but it will be if you make it so.”
She huffed but walked with him. Dauntless trotted beside her. “He didn’t kill the president.”
“No one is saying he did.”
Behind him, Shadrach spoke, “How is the first lady, do any of you know?”
Sam turned back to John and Shadrach. “Susan was killed the same day as the president. You were there.”
Shadrach shook his head. “The president was killed. The first lady was shot, but she was alive when I left. She called for help.”
Chapter 14
She blinked, instantly winced at the pain in the back of her head. What had the sheriff’s wife hit her with? The floor was hard and cold. She turned her head and saw metal bars. A cot. She was in the Sanctuary jail cell. I guess it worked. Being Abigail Myerson was going very well.
Everything was in place for the next step.
**
“Susan is alive?” John got in his face. “Tell me what happened.”
Shadrach glanced between them and then launched into the story.
**
The window of the left hand room blew out, taking the gunman with him. The second man stepped over his body and strode into the room and fired immediately. Number three, dead. A bullet hit the gunman’s shoulder, but he didn’t stop. The secret service agent kept firing at his center mass, but he had to be wearing body armor.
The gunnery sergeant aimed again, this time for a headshot.
The gunman dropped, fired. The remaining secret service agent did the same. Both dead.
Four agents, all dead.
One remaining gunman pointed his weapon at the president and spoke. The gunnery sergeant read his lips. Where is she? Where is it hidden? Tell me now. He trained his weapon on the first lady. Now, or she dies. The words were measured and emotionless. This man had no grief over his fallen men or for the fact his intention was to kill the president of the United States.
Shadrach was their last hope.
The gunnery sergeant wanted to call 9-1-1, but they would never believe the president had detoured from his planned schedule to make an early morning meeting with his missing wife in a chain hotel across town.
The gunnery sergeant blew out a long breath as the world shrank to one thing—the view at the end of his scope.
The gunman moved.
He adjusted and took the shot.
The three of them dropped.
He shifted the gun and sure enough, the first lady lay on the carpet, eyes open, bleeding from the gunman’s bullet lodged high in her shoulder.
The gunman had a hole in his forehead.
The president lay with sightless eyes, so like Billy that the gunnery sergeant’s breath hitched.
The first lady shifted. The gunnery sergeant watched her pull a phone from her jacket pocket and fumble to dial the number. Relief washed over her face, and she gasped one word.
Grant.
**
John met the gunnery sergeant’s eyes. “You’re sure?”
He didn’t believe the man was lying. Something about Shadrach Carleigh said he wasn’t, and besides, what would he stand to gain by it? A momentary flash of hope before John confirmed she was dead anyway? It would only be a twisted act by a sadistic person, which he didn’t think the sniper was. If Shadrach had only told him so John would go easier on him, maybe out of sympathy or gratitude or something like that, then he’d had one card and he’d played it in the first five minutes. Which meant he was done talking, or he had something bigger he still hadn’t shared.
Shadrach nodded. “I left, and she was alive.”
“She’s alive.” Nadia’s eyes were wide, the whites bright in the dark that had descended as they walked, as Shadrach had told them the story of what had happened in the hotel room the day Thomas and Susan had been killed. Only now Susan was alive. “This is unbelievable.”
Grant.
Had his brother seriously lied about Susan having been killed? Had the director of the marshals taken the hit to his reputation for failing to keep them alive, all the time knowing Susan was really alive? To keep her safe, no doubt. That was exactly what Grant would have done. Because it was exactly what John would have done.
“We have to tell Beth.” Sam had the rifle over his shoulder, hands on his hips. “There’s no way I’m standing for any more secrets. Things are finally coming out. I’m not keeping it from her, and I don’t care what you say.”
John nearly smiled. “Agreed.”
“Because if you…what?”
“I said I agree. Tell your wife her mother is alive. There’s just one caveat in this.”
Sam frowned. “And what’s that?”
“She can’t tell anyone else.”
Nadia said, “But Frannie—”
John looked at her. “No one. We can’t risk Abigail—the one pretending to be her—finding out and telling anyone. That means whoever she might have turned in town, aside from Harrison Knight.”
“Harrison was working with her?”
John nodded in answer to Sam’s question. “Maybe not directly, but they were on the same side.”
They were hitting the point where it was tough to keep track of who knew what. Only Andra knew everything John knew. He apparently didn’t know everything Grant did. Who knew what Ben had in his back pocket? There was always something.
“We need to sit down. All of us and Remy. But we can’t risk fake-Abigail finding out.”
They reached the ranch, and he piled them in his car. Dauntless had his chin on John’s shoulder—he was so big. John pulled away, giving Bolton a two-fingered wave and getting the same back. He’d have to fill the rancher in later and find out why the injured man was acting like normal again. He’d been laid up in bed only weeks ago. Regularly seeing Remy. What had changed?
Nadia Marie turned to the back seat. “It’s really good to see you, Shad.” Her voice wasn’t her usual exuberance but subdued. Maybe even nervous.
“You look happy, Na-na.”
John glanced at her and caught the smile. His radio rang once. He thumbed the button. “Go ahead.”
“It’s me.”
Despite the rush of emotion at hearing her voice, he didn’t think she was calling for a good reason. Not on his radio. “Yeah, babe?”
“Uh, well…Abigail came in to your office. She knows about Remy. She hit Hal with some kind of stun gun. We took him to the Meeting House. Everyone’s there, Remy is working on him. Sonny has Beth.”
“And Abigail?”
“I may have made a…uh…citizen’s arrest.”
John snorted. Beside him, Nadia Marie burst out laughing. When he’d composed himself, he said, “Is she in jail?”
“I knew you’d be mad.” Andra sighed. “She deserved it. She hurt Hal. It was self-defense.”
“Babe, I’m not gonna make you get a lawyer.”
The radio went silent.
John glanced at Nadia. “Waking up?”
Nadia Marie only grinned. John changed direction. “I’ll take you home first.”
“But Shad—”
“If Abigail is in the jail I don’t want you there. I don’t want her, or anyone else she has up her sleeve, to know Shadrach’s sister lives here if we can help it. We don’t arm them with more ammo than they already have against us. Got it?”
The low voice came from the back seat. “She understands.”
Nadia shot her brother a dark look. When they pulled up outside her place, she didn’t look in the back. She got out and held the door open. “Dauntless, heir.”
Shadrach started to chuckle, a rusty sound that might have been a gorilla choking. The dog jumped in the front seat and turned back to his master. Shad said, “Pass auf.”
John had looked up the German commands for a trained animal, and that one meant “guard.” The dog hopped out, and Nadia Marie slammed the door.
John drove to the sheriff’s office. He led Shadrach inside with Sam bringing up the rear. Andra hopped up from her chair. “Hey.” She had a seriously guilty look on her face.
Sam slumped into the deputy chair. He winced and rubbed his leg. John hadn’t figured he was all the way healed, not given the way Ben described his condition when he’d found the lieutenant. Sure enough, Abigail was in the jail cell. The only jail cell the town had.
John moved Shadrach to the door of the barred area and let go of his arm, his eyes on his wife. “Babe.”
She played along, grinning as she hopped into his arms for a kiss that lasted a whole lot longer than should have been appropriate.
He pulled back. “How was your day, darlin’?”
“Great. Thanks. Pat’s asleep, and Aaron is watching a movie.” She glanced at Shadrach. “Aren’t you going to put him in the cell?”
John slapped his head like he’d forgotten. “Right.” He retrieved the keys and unlocked the door. Where one of them would sleep was anyone’s guess. There was only one cot in there. He’d have to let one out to use the other bathroom.
Abigail had a smirk on her face, but it was what he’d intended. She had to know he’d been a marshal before he came here, and she knew his family connections. But she didn’t know him. For all Abigail knew, John Mason was some country bumpkin sheriff who cared more about hanging out with his family and trying to make a baby with his new wife than the affairs of the town whose security he was responsible for.
And that was exactly what he wanted her to think.
“Let’s go see Hal. Then we should head to bed. It’s getting late.”
Andra smiled. “Great, honey.” She turned to where Abigail stood in the cell. She gave her a little wave. “I’ll see you later.”
Hopefully Abigail was clued in enough to consider Andra a credible threat—especially if she figured John was too dense to do anything about it.
He turned to Sam. “You’re on duty?”
Sam looked exhausted. “Sure.”
“Catch you in the morning.”
He led Andra out onto the street.
“I really do want to check on Hal. And Beth.”
He glanced at her. “And I really want to talk to Remy. I have to call Grant, also.”
“Okay.”
“Ready?”
She kissed him. “Break.”
John pulled out his phone while his wife strode across the street to the Meeting House. He prayed for Hal, that he would be fine. For Remy and Beth, that they would finally admit what this was all about, specifically what Remy had made for her father that was so destructive. He figured it was some kind of compound, or bomb, but it could be anything. Then he prayed for Grant. Because if he’d been keeping the secret, that the president’s wife was in fact alive, from the whole world all this time, then he was going to have to brace when it became public knowledge.
John dialed his phone, thanking God this was the most secure phone in the world. Still, it paid to be cautious these days.
Grant picked up. “I can’t talk right now. I’m trying to figure out what happened to Ben.”
John frowned. “He’s probably alive, like someone else we both know. Someone you didn’t tell me is, in fact, alive.”
There was silence on the line.
John shook his head. “That’s what I thought. You’ve been lying to me this whole time. Which begs the question, what else haven’t you told me about?”
**
After she’d made sure Dauntless couldn’t get out again, Nadia Marie walked to the Meeting House. John paced outside as he talked on his phone.
“No, I do not.” He shook his head. “No, Grant.”
Nadia didn’t envy the director for his brother’s ire. John wasn’t someone she wanted to mess with, even if he was one of the good guys. She would love him for the change he’d brought out in Andra, even if she didn’t already like him. But he was a good man and a good father. There weren’t a whole heap of those in the world and even less here in Sanctuary.
Thus, Nadia Marie Carleigh was going to spend another year alone while Bolton Farrera ignored her some more. She’d figured something might happen after they’d nearly been blown up together, but evidently some people didn’t grow closer during intense situations. Some people found out the other person was keeping a huge secret about their health, got mad, made a fool of themselves and then slunk off to lick their wounds.
Well no more.
Nadia blew out a breath and pushed open the Meeting House door. Apparently instead of being a connoisseur of art and fashion or hobnobbing with the rich and fabulous, God’s plan was for her to be a single salon owner in a tiny town for the rest of her life. And no more than that.
Andra waved her over. “What’s wrong?”
Nadia shook her head.
Beth and Remy huddled over Hal, fussing. The big man’s beard moved as he worked his mouth back and forth. His eyes lifted to her, widening. If he’d said, “Save me,” and launched out of his chair, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
Nadia wanted to laugh, but instead folded her arms. “How bad is it?”
Remy glanced over. “His heart rate is elevated, but other than that he appears unscathed.” When she turned back to the “patient,” Nadia glanced at Andra. What’s wrong with her?
When Andra mouthed back, Your brother, Nadia forgot they were having a private conversation.
“Why does Remy have a problem with my brother?”
Beth and Remy both straightened. Nadia couldn’t decipher the looks on their faces. She’d figured Shadrach’s presence had something to do with Beth, but Remy?
John’s boots echoed across the tile floor. He was breathing like the Big Bad Wolf.
Andra winced. “Is everything okay?”
“Peachy.” He gave his wife a look Nadia knew meant, I’ll tell you later.
She turned to him, but before she could ask what was going on, Remy said, “What’s happening? Why is Shadrach in jail?”
It was the way she said his name. Remy’s connection to Nadia’s brother was deep, it was emotional—which was surprising—and she was trying to hide it.
John answered. “It’s a formality until Grant decides what action should be taken.”
“And there’s nothing I can do?” Remy winced.
Nadia figured that meant there was nothing she could do, either. Especially considering John wouldn’t even let her go see Shadrach. She looked at Remy. “Does Abigail know you’re involved in this?”
Remy nodded.
Beth shifted beside Andra. “Where is Sam?”
“He’s on duty tonight.”
“And you’re not concerned he might interrogate Abigail?”
John’s eyebrows lifted. “If we’re lucky, he’ll get something out of both her and Nadia’s brother.”
“Oh.”
John continued, “I want you to stick close tonight, o
kay? Just because they’re both in jail doesn’t mean we’re free and clear.”
Beth nodded.
Nadia couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to be the president’s daughter, followed around by Secret Service agents all the time. Although being ignored by tall, handsome men was something she was familiar with.
Andra elbowed her. She frowned.
Nadia rolled her eyes. “If Hal is okay, I can walk him home. Make sure he gets in all right.”
Hal hopped up from the chair. “I’m good. Let’s roll.”
Nadia smirked as he held out his elbow to her. The woman he gifted with his time and affection must be a very blessed woman. She wanted that for herself, and if she was honest—which she tried not to be too much, since it hurt—she’d admit she wanted that with only Bolton and no one else.
But some things just weren’t meant to be.
As they walked away, she heard Remy ask, “Will Shadrach be okay, alone in a cell with the fake Abigail?”
Her brother was a hotshot Force Recon sniper. Why wouldn’t he be okay facing off against a middle aged woman?
John smirked. “I’m not worried about Shadrach. He knows what to do.”
**
It had been ten minutes since Sam started the movie on his tablet. Next time he saw Pat Mason, he’d have to tell the kid he’d given Sam the idea. Except Sam wasn’t really watching, and the sound was muted.
Earbuds in, he pulled up the surveillance cameras in the sheriff’s office. Beth had been right, someone was listening. But it wasn’t Abigail.
Only he and John, Hal and—for some reason—Bolton knew this system was there, but it would certainly come in handy tonight. He could see Abigail glance at him out of the corner of his eye. Sam played the audio feed from the surveillance while he watched whatever the bad guy was doing to the computer in the hero’s office in one corner of the screen.
When nothing came through his earphones, he glanced up at the two of them in the jail cell. Shadrach sat on the floor, his back to the bars, facing away from Sam. Abigail was perched on the edge of the bed, studying her morose cell-mate.
Sanctuary Breached WITSEC Town Series Book 3 Page 16