She wanted to change the subject and take the focus off of her. “Are you from around here?” she asked.
“I’m from Chicago, but I’ve lived all over working for the FBI. For the past few years I worked out of the Atlanta field office. And now as a marshal, I’ve been assigned to the Northern District of Georgia.”
“I like living in Atlanta,” she said.
The car suddenly swerved, stopping her from continuing her thought. What was going on?
“Hold on,” he said loudly.
She gripped the console.
Then he slammed on the brakes.
*
Max’s day was going from bad to worse. If he hadn’t gotten to the courthouse when he had, his witness might have been killed—gunned down in broad daylight. And now a man stood waving his arms right in front of his car in the middle of the road.
Max had to swerve to keep from hitting him. But it was close. And now his senses were screaming that something was terribly off. They were winding through the suburbs on the way to the safe house. What was this man doing?
He thought of Sydney. How much more could she handle today? She certainly hadn’t signed up for being a target of the East River gang. His years in the FBI gang unit had shown him just how ruthless a group like East River could be.
“Are you going to get out and see what he needs?” she asked.
They sat in the car, not moving, as the man approached. Max estimated him to be in his forties, approximately six feet tall and two hundred pounds. He definitely didn’t look like a damsel in distress.
“What’s wrong?” she asked Max.
“I don’t like this.”
“He probably needs help.” She reached over and grabbed his arm. “We can’t just ignore him.”
“Stay in the car, okay?”
Before she could answer, he checked his sidearm and then opened the door.
And that’s when the man lunged forward. The attacker was fast, but Max was faster.
Sydney screamed, but Max stayed focused on the threat in front of him. But when a gunshot went off, he instinctively turned to look. And there was Sydney wrestling another man with a gun.
He didn’t have time to do a thorough analysis of the situation, so he quickly launched into action. When his attacker landed a blow that connected hard with his jaw, pain shot through his head. But it wasn’t enough to lay him out. There was no way was he going to lose his first official witness as a US Marshal. With a swift uppercut he made contact with the attacker’s face. Calling on his martial arts training, he followed with a precise kick to the ribs. His assailant landed on the ground with a resounding thud.
He drew his gun and turned, ready to take the shot to save Sydney’s life. But somehow she had gotten the other guy on his knees and the man’s gun was now in her hand. How in the world had she managed that? “Keep that gun on him, Sydney.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” she said.
He pulled out his handcuffs and secured the original assailant. Then he walked over to her. The other man was on his knees with his hands in the air. He pulled out a second pair of cuffs from his jacket and put them on the perpetrator.
He would need to call this in ASAP, but he also needed to get Sydney to safety. What if others were coming? These guys could have been waiting for them. Which meant additional threats could be in the area.
He pulled out his cell and put in a call. Backup should only be a few minutes away. That would give him a moment with the suspects. He read them their rights since he didn’t want to get caught in a legal snafu, and then he looked at the first man.
“Who sent you?”
“I’m not talkin’.” The man’s blue eyes weren’t filled with fear but determination. Clearly he was a hired gun.
Max walked over to where Sydney stood beside the other man. Her auburn hair had come loose from her ponytail. “You sure you’re okay?” She looked shaken as she gripped her hands together, but after a moment answered him calmly.
“Yes.”
He turned his attention to the man. “You got anything to say?”
The guy grunted, and Max took that as a no. No surprises there.
As they held the men at gunpoint he leaned in to her. “Where in the world did you learn to incapacitate an attacker like that?” He guessed her to be only about five feet four, but she was a powerhouse.
Her brown eyes were wide as she looked up at him. “Self-defense classes.”
“That looked like a whole lot more than self-defense class.”
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
He was intrigued. Sydney Berry had secrets. And if he was going to be able to keep her safe, he probably needed to find them out. But at the moment he was just glad that her first secret actually worked to their advantage.
He was kicking himself for taking his eyes off of her earlier. She was his first and only priority. Granted, she wasn’t officially in the Witness Security Program, known commonly as witness protection, but he had been tasked to keep her safe until everything could be sorted out.
Sirens sounded in the distance. He looked at her. “Why don’t you get in the car? I’ll handle this, and then we can be on our way.”
She frowned but then got into the sedan.
A moment later the local police arrived, and Max filled them in on the specifics. He’d also looped in his FBI contact. Then he made the call he was dreading. Reporting this incident to his boss, Deputy Elena Sanchez, was hardly the way to make a good first impression, but he had no choice.
Then finally he was ready to hit the road with Sydney. But not to the original safe house. That was too risky now.
He wouldn’t feel even an ounce better until Sydney had safely completed her testimony in the morning. And even then the threat of the East River gang still loomed large.
Once they’d been driving for a few minutes, he decided to break the silence. “Want to talk about what happened back there?”
“You think those men were connected to East River or someone else associated with Diaz?”
He decided it best to be open and honest with her about the threat. “I think East River has put a hit out on you.”
“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” she said.
He saw her look out the window and take note of her surroundings. “I know it seems like I’m driving in the other direction now, but given what just happened we’re going to an alternative safe house.”
“But we’re not staying there long?”
“No. After you testify we’ll go to another location. This is just for tonight. We have a list of safe house options already planned for you.”
“I guess I don’t get much of a say in this, huh?”
“You always have a say, but you should know that I have your best interests in mind. Also, I’m sorry about what happened back there, however, I’m thankful that you were able to defend yourself.”
“Me, too,” she said quietly.
He looked over at her. As she stared out the window he could see the tension tightening her features. He tried a different topic of conversation. “How long have you been a sketch artist?”
She turned to look at him, and her shoulders immediately seemed to relax. “I’ve been drawing forever, but I started taking it seriously during college. I didn’t finish school and instead took art classes with my tuition money. Then I started with small jobs and it grew from there. Referrals are very important in my business. But I do more than just draw faces. That’s what you think of when you think of a sketch artist. I’m a forensic artist. I can do a lot more, like crime-scene reenactments and stuff like that.”
“I imagine the work comes and goes.” He wanted to engage in conversation to try to calm his own building nerves, as well.
“Yes. I’ve been very busy as of late, but those first few years were tough. I took other odd jobs to make ends meet. I worked at a library for a bit and as a server at a rest
aurant. All to pursue my real dream.” She shrugged. “With all the high-tech advancements, the field is changing a lot, it’s really exciting. Computers can do a lot, but there’s still something to be said about a human hand.”
“I’m a big fan of using technology in investigations. I had an experience with a traditional sketch artist in the past who wasn’t on point.” That was an understatement, but he didn’t think it was the best time to go into his misgivings about sketch artists right now.
“Don’t get me wrong. The technology for doing things like facial reconstructions or accident simulations is absolutely amazing,” she replied. “But I still trust my abilities to use pencil and paper and sketch based on the eyewitness interview for the purposes of identification.”
He didn’t reply because it only would have led to an argument that he didn’t think she would want to have right now.
“You said you were at the FBI before. How long have you been a marshal?”
He didn’t really want to give an exact answer. “Not very long.” He could feel her gaze on him as he drove.
“Hey, don’t tell me I’m your first witness.”
He smiled. “Okay, I won’t tell you that.”
“Wow.” She blew out a breath. “I am your first witness.”
“That’s true, but I’d been with the FBI for a decade. It’s not like I’m new to law enforcement, so I’m not a true rookie.”
“I can imagine that working as an FBI agent in the gang unit is a lot different than guarding a witness, though.”
“Don’t give it another thought. You’re safe now, and you’ll stay that way.”
“No offense, but we just met. You’re asking me to put a lot of faith in you.”
“I know. But that’s the way it has to be. No one else on our team has the same knowledge of the threats to you like I do. I’m thankful that I got assigned to your case and was able to connect the dots, or this afternoon might have ended very differently.” He paused as he pointed to a house up ahead. “We’re here on the right.”
“This looks like a regular neighborhood.”
“That’s exactly the point. We’re trying to blend.”
He’d actually never been to this safe house before during his training, but he was getting the idea that they were all generally the same. This was a two-story house, painted a pale blue on a nice-size lot.
He pulled the sedan all the way into the driveway and stopped the car.
“Can I get out?” she asked.
“Yes, but first let me just do a quick security check. You stay here and keep the doors locked.”
Before she could answer he had jogged up to the front door and opened it. He quickly surveyed the house, conducting a security sweep. Satisfied it was all clear he went back outside to get Sydney. Her expression appeared unreadable as she sat in the passenger’s seat. He really wanted to know what was going in that head of hers.
He opened the car door for her, and she stepped out bedside him. She was a pretty woman, no doubt, with a simple and natural beauty about her. But she gave off a very strong vibe. One that said loudly, “Back off.”
“This way,” he said. He took her arm and escorted her to the front door, even though he got the feeling she didn’t appreciate him invading her personal space. “Another marshal will be over in a bit with dinner and everything you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow.”
“You aren’t leaving, are you?” she asked as she made direct eye contact.
“No. I just didn’t want you to think we were going to be totally shut off from the outside world without the things you would need.”
“What I really need is to be at my own home.”
“I understand. Let’s get through your testimony in the morning, and then we can reevaluate.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He walked over to where she stood in the living room. “I promise. And I won’t make you promises I can’t keep. I hate it when people do that to me and—”
A loud crash rocked the room as glass flew against his body. His face burned and he felt blood trickling down his cheek. Smoke surrounded him. He dove toward Sydney, hoping it wouldn’t be too late.
Copyright © 2015 by Rachel Dylan
ISBN-13: 9781460389157
Easy Prey
Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Phillips
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