The Outpost (Jamison Valley Book 4)

by Devney Perry

  “For how long?”

  “A couple months.”

  “All right. Then hurry up and give us the outpost recap first. Then get to the good stuff.”

  I smiled and laughed with my friend. We spent the next thirty minutes talking through everything that had happened at the outpost. I told them all about my journey into writing. About Dylan and the hotshot crew. And about my meeting with Henry Dalton.

  “I’m so glad you didn’t go into witness protection,” Maisy said.

  “Me too.” Though, I still thought staying in Montana was just delaying the inevitable. Regardless, I was glad he hadn’t come back to collect me. That had to be a sign that things with the Federovs were progressing, right?

  “Wait a minute.” Felicity frowned and counted out a couple of fingers. “Were you and Beau together when Silas came up to the outpost and brought you down to meet with Henry?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “And he didn’t tell me anything! Silas is in trouble.” She pointed at my nose. “And so are you. This is all information you should have been sending in your letters.”

  I winced and scrunched up my face. “Sorry?” My letters had been so focused on wedding details, I’d left out the details of my budding relationship.

  “You’re forgiven, but only if you give us all the details now. What’s going on with you two?”

  Felicity and Maisy both leaned further into the island, anxious for me to share the juicy gossip.

  I shrugged. “We’re temporary, I guess. I don’t know how else to describe it. Our circumstances are completely insane, but no matter what, I’m really glad I’ve gotten the chance to know him. We’ll just have to see what develops.”

  “Would you ever consider staying?” Felicity asked.

  Beau and I had only ever talked about parting ways eventually, but what if we didn’t have to? I wanted to keep seeing him and I think he wanted that too. Excitement at the possibility bubbled up in my chest.

  “Yes. If it was safe, I’d stay.”

  “Yay!” Maisy cheered at the same time I said, “But.”

  Her hands came down from above her head. “Uh-oh.”

  “You don’t want to get your hopes up.” Felicity voiced my fears.

  I nodded. “I’m still in trouble. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to have a normal life. If I’ll ever be free. I’d love to stay here with Beau, but not if I’m in danger. There’s a very real chance I’ll be going into witness protection and never get to see him again.”

  “That sucks,” Maisy muttered.

  I rounded the island and took a seat on the last stool. “Yeah. It sucks. But Beau and I have always gone into this with clear expectations. We’re enjoying the time we have, for as long as it lasts. Let’s do the same. Tell me everything about the wedding.”

  “The wedding? No. I want to hear more about you and Beau.”

  “Please?” I begged. “There isn’t much more to tell and I really want to hear about the wedding. Just because you know I’m here doesn’t mean I’m going to get to see you often. So let’s use this afternoon as a chance to catch up because I don’t know if it’s going to happen again.”

  She sighed and nodded. “Okay.”

  “I’ve got lots of pictures on my phone.” Maisy jumped up from her stool to dig through her purse.

  “Good. Beau took lots of pictures and videos, but I want to see more. He didn’t get a lot of the behind-the-scenes stuff.”

  And I wanted to hear everything straight from Felicity’s mouth. If I could see her face light up as she described her dress or how the cake tasted, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so sad about missing my best friend’s wedding day. The Federov story had taken that away from me too. And though I was sad, I wasn’t sorry. Beau had helped me see that everything I’d done—all I’d lost and would miss out on—had been worth it to take them down.

  So for the next hour, I swiped through hundreds of wedding pictures and listened to countless stories about Felicity and Silas’s day. There was something magical about being surrounded by these women, listening to them recount every detail of the wedding, because after that hour, I didn’t feel like I’d missed the wedding entirely after all.

  Coby got bored with his cartoons not long after that and Maisy decided it best to take him home. So I hugged her good-bye and ruffled Coby’s hair before they went outside to get buckled into the car.

  “Thanks for showing me pictures,” I told Felicity as I walked her to the door.

  “We could have pushed the wedding back, you know.”

  “I know, but I didn’t want that. It could be years until my drama blows over, if ever.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” she chided. “This could all work out.”

  “You’re right.” I pulled her into my arms. “It could.”

  Or it couldn’t.

  I didn’t voice that last bit. I’d let my friend keep hoping that this would all turn out for the best.

  And maybe she’d be right.

  “Take care of yourself, okay? And that baby.”

  She squeezed me once more, then let me go. “Promise. You take care too.”

  “Love you, lady.”

  “Love you too.” With a sad wave, she walked out the door, closing it behind her so I wouldn’t be seen standing by the window.

  As I watched Felicity get into the passenger seat and Maisy pull away from the curb, Beau’s truck appeared and pulled into the driveway.

  I heard the garage door roll open and I walked back to the kitchen to greet him as he came inside.

  The smile on my face fell when the door opened.

  Beau was home, and he was not happy.

  “Hey. What’s wrong? Didn’t you find the kids?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I found them,” he clipped, brushing past me to toss his keys on the island. When he spun around, he planted his hands on his hips. “Was that Felicity I saw leaving with Maisy and Coby?”

  “Um, yeah.” Where was he going with this? And why was he mad?

  “So when I told you that we weren’t going to tell anyone you were here, did that not sink in? Exactly how long did you wait after I left before getting ahold of Felicity? Five minutes? Ten?”

  “Beau, they—”

  “And you pulled my sister and nephew into this too? For Christ’s sake, Sabrina.” He yanked off his cap and threw it on the island with his keys. “You’re supposed to be in hiding. It’s dangerous for people to know you’re here. I brought you back from the outpost to keep you safe, not for you to have a social life.”

  I fisted my hands on my hips to mirror his stance. “Now wait a second. I didn’t invite them over here. I was cleaning and they just showed up. What was I supposed to do?”

  “How about hide? I can’t protect you if people know where you are!”

  “I was standing right there!” I shouted, pointing to the spot where I’d been scrubbing. “And don’t get mad at me, you weren’t here. You were busy running off to rescue someone else and leaving me behind.”

  The words came out without thought, but before I could take them back, Beau’s anger spiked.

  “That’s right. I’m always doing something for someone else. Excuse me for fucking helping other people. Do you think I like it? Always on the run, doing things for others while my life gets put on hold? But what else should I say, Sabrina? You’ve got all the answers, tell me. I guess the next time two kids get lost or a woman comes to Montana in the middle of the night and needs a place to hide out, I should just say, ‘Sorry, I’m fucking busy.’ Is that how I can get out of the hassle of everyone else’s shit?”

  I’d walked right into an argument I couldn’t win. I didn’t have any answers to his questions. But I did know that it really hurt to be called a hassle. “You’re right. You’re trying to help everyone else out. I guess if you told people no, maybe those of us that are such a fucking hassle would have to figure it out ourselves.” I stormed past Beau, rushing upsta
irs as anger and guilt settled heavy on my back.

  Beau had likely saved my life. He’d taken me on as a burden, and any time I’d apologized for inconveniencing his life, he’d sworn it had been fine.

  I didn’t know where I’d be without Beau’s help. I had needed him. Not just to keep me safe, but just . . . for me. I still needed him. Just like his mom. His sister. His nephew.

  The line of people that needed Beau was stacked deep and I wasn’t at the front.

  I was halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rang, but I didn’t stop moving.

  I went upstairs and sank onto the end of the bed, burying my face in my hands.

  If the chaos of my life ever settled, Beau wouldn’t want me to stay. I’d been kidding myself to think a life in Montana could be my future, that Beau and I might make a relationship out of this thing between us.

  The truth was, I didn’t belong in Montana. I didn’t belong with Beau.

  We’d always been temporary and he’d been nothing but up front about expectations. Anything else had just been my imagination running wild. My romance novels must have made me delusional, because clearly, I’d been reading much more into Beau’s words and actions than he had intended.

  And fuck, did that hurt.

  When the one man you wanted more than any other thought you were a hassle, it hurt.

  His footsteps sounded in the hallway and I looked up, waiting for his body to fill the doorframe. When he appeared, the scowl on his face had just gotten harder.

  “You have a visitor.”

  I stood up. “Me?”

  He nodded.

  “Who?”

  “Your FBI friend.”

  “What? Henry’s here?”

  “See for yourself.” He spun around and walked down the hallway.

  I rushed across the room, following Beau downstairs. Henry Dalton stood in the living room, wearing his signature black suit and white shirt.

  Another visit from the FBI could not mean good things.

  My heart was pounding as I darted around Beau and into the living room, firing off questions as they popped into my head. “Why are you back, Henry? Is everything okay with my family? Did something happen with the Federovs? Do they know where I am?”

  “Hello, Sabrina.” Henry chuckled. “Your family is fine. How about we sit and go through those questions one by one?”

  “Sure.” I swung out a hand, inviting him to sit on the couch. I took the chair directly across from him and sat on my nervous hands.

  Beau came to my side but he didn’t sit. He just crossed his arms over his chest and planted his legs wide as he glared down at Henry.

  “How are you?” Henry asked me, ignoring the waves of anger pulsing from Beau and how I was shaking with nerves.

  “Um, fine.” Something was different about this visit. Unlike last time, Henry wasn’t tense. Instead, he was relaxed, almost carefree as he tossed a hand over the back of the couch and swung a foot up on his knee.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Nice place,” Henry said, looking around the house and not answering my question.

  Beau growled, his jaw clenched even tighter.

  I reached up and touched his elbow. “Would you please sit down? You’re making me even more nervous.”

  For a second I thought he was going to remain standing, but he finally sank onto the arm of my chair with an angry huff.

  Henry was still inspecting Beau’s house.

  “Henry,” I snapped, getting his attention. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to bring you home, MacKenzie.”

  My stomach dropped. “Did something happen?”

  Henry nodded and looked to Beau. “Your hiding spot wasn’t as secure as you thought. We caught some social-media traffic yesterday about a woman hiding up in the mountains of Montana. Blond hair. Green eyes. Sound familiar?”

  My eyes closed as my shoulders fell. “It had to be the hotshots. Who did the post come from?”

  “Do you know someone named Dylan Prosser?” Henry asked.

  Dylan. “That. Asshole!” My fingernails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists.

  Beau had gotten Dylan fired from his hotshot crew, and rather than take that opportunity to grow the fuck up, he’d ratted me out.

  “I’ll take that as a yes?”

  “Yeah, we know Prosser,” Beau growled. His hands were fisted even tighter than mine. “What happened?”

  “He’s taken a lot of interest in Sabrina. From what we can tell, he’s spent the better part of two months trying to figure out who you are. He must have finally stumbled onto Anton’s social-media feeds, because yesterday, we caught a comment that he had information about your whereabouts. For a price, of course.”

  Which meant I’d been found. My time was up.

  “So that’s it?” I asked. “Now you take me into witness protection and I become some random Jane Doe?”

  Henry grinned and shook his head. “I’m not here with only bad news, MacKenzie. I’ve got some good too. You have to come home but you get to stay you.”

  “She doesn’t have to go into witness protection?” Beau asked, his arm wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me toward his hip.

  Henry shook his head. “She doesn’t need to. She’s safe to come back to Seattle as Sabrina MacKenzie.”

  “You’re kidding.” My mouth fell open. “Really?”

  Henry nodded. “Really.”

  “Why? How?” Even though I’d been hoping this would come true, I’d never really expected it to happen. A part of me had come to terms with the fact that eventually I’d be disappearing from my own life and saying good-bye to my loved ones. “What about the Federovs? I don’t understand how this is possible.”

  “Your article saved your ass,” Henry declared.

  What was he talking about? My article had put me in this position. “What do you mean?”

  “Remember I told you the inside guy with the Russians said they were poking around the case?”

  “Of course I remember. That was less than two months ago. Tell me something new.” My patience was running out.

  Henry smiled, completely unaffected by my sharp tone. “Well, it turns out they weren’t interested in you at all, just your article.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “The numbers you included were what drew the Russians’ interest.”

  I thought back to the story and exactly what I had included. At Anton’s, I’d found a copy of a ledger documenting the gun shipments and another documenting sales. High-res photos had been sent to Henry along with the evidence my source and I had gained from Federov Shipping. But the only thing my article had included were estimates on gun imports over the last ten years and some income estimates for Viktor Federov and his sons.

  “Why would the Russians care about how many guns were being imported?” I asked. “Wouldn’t they already know that?”

  “Imports weren’t the issue. Sales were.”

  “The Federovs were skimming,” Beau said, voicing my thoughts.

  Henry nodded. “Yep.”

  “And the Russians are only just now noticing?” I asked. “Because of my article? That seems suspicious.”

  “I thought so too,” Henry said, “but my inside source says it’s solid intel. The Federovs have been careful, taking just enough to inflate their take but not enough to draw suspicion from their Russian counterparts. Compound small draws over thousands of shipments, though, and they got themselves a nice pay bump. Your article put a spotlight on their operation, so the Russians started running numbers.”

  It didn’t surprise me that Anton and his family had gotten greedy. Viktor, Anton’s father, had always seemed fairly levelheaded—for a criminal—but Anton and Ivan were reckless and arrogant.

  “Okay. So the Russians aren’t a threat, but what about the Federovs? They’ll still be after me, right? How is it safe to go back to Seattle?”

  “The Federovs aren’t going t
o be around much longer,” Henry said. “They’re marked by the Russians. I give them a week in prison, two tops.”

  “They aren’t in prison yet, Henry,” I said. “Their trial and any appeals could take months or years.”

  He shook his head. “The U.S. Attorney’s office has the Federovs dead to rights and the grand jury will indict fast. No way a judge will grant them bail, so they’ll have to plea-bargain or prepare for their trial from prison—if they live that long. Six months, a year at most, and they’re gone.”

  “And until then?” I asked. An ongoing trial did not guarantee my safety, nor did having the Federovs sitting in a jail cell. “It’s not just Viktor, Ivan and Anton I’m worried about. What about their goons?”

  “Word is out that the Russians aren’t backing the Federovs,” Henry explained. “All of their former employees, your ‘goons,’ are in the wind or have found new criminal undertakings. The Federovs are drowning and no one is stupid enough to tie a rope to their ship.”

  “She could still be in danger. What are you going to do to keep her safe?” Beau asked.

  Henry leaned forward and dropped his elbows to his knees. “She’ll have round-the-clock protection from some of my best agents. I’ll see to it myself. And if anything changes with the Federovs, if by some miracle they get out on bail, we’ll go the WITSEC route. We’ll have to play it as it comes. But one thing is for sure, she can’t stay here.”

  No, I couldn’t. Not with Dylan Prosser broadcasting my whereabouts and my connection to Beau. I wouldn’t bring more stress into his life or risk putting his family in harm’s way.

  I wouldn’t keep being a hassle.

  “Look,” Henry said, “if I didn’t think you’d be secure, I wouldn’t have come here again. But like I told your sheriff when I called him earlier to track you down, things are a lot different than they were six weeks ago.”

  That was an understatement. Six weeks ago I was at the outpost, happier than I’d been in a decade.

  “You promise I’ll be safe?” I asked Henry.

  He nodded. “I’ll have three or four men on you at all times. Your apartment will be monitored with someone stationed outside the door. And when I’m not needed at the office or in the courtroom, I’ll be by your side the whole time.”