The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  It was just a dream. Had to be. He’d remembered Elena’s dream, that was all.

  But she’d never said anything about Sir Richard tearing—

  Josh sat stock-still.

  Sir Richard.

  And Richard Matthews.

  Could Quinn really be right? Could one violent, evil man live in two lifetimes with them?

  What in God’s name was he thinking? It was a dream, nothing more. But he couldn’t shake its horrifying effects. His battle-urge roused and ready, Josh wanted to kill. He wanted to defend Elena to the death.

  He still felt the scores on his back, the seep of blood, the whistle of the lash as it approached, just before the searing pain.

  Josh scrubbed at his eyes with his hands.

  Believe in it, Josh, Quinn had ordered. Her life and your own may depend upon it.

  He waited for Elena to return from the bathroom so he could talk to her about this.

  But too much time passed and she didn’t come.

  He rose from the bed and dragged on his jeans. Headed for the door, but his eyes caught on a piece of paper on the dresser.

  With his name on the front.

  With a sinking feeling he opened it.

  And found exactly what he’d dreaded.

  She was gone.

  Thank God she’d at least stolen his car and cash. She wasn’t on foot—though if she were, she wouldn’t be able to get as far away from him without a vehicle.

  He was already making plans by the time he got his boots on.

  “Josh, calm down. You won’t help her if you go off half-cocked.”

  “She’s out there alone,” Josh snapped. “And we’ve sitting on our butts, waiting for some loose cannon deputy to call me back.”

  “It’s only been thirty minutes since you left the voicemail. She has to drive a good 600 miles. It will take her all day to get there.”

  “I don’t know when she left.” Josh slammed his hand against the wall. “How could I have slept through that?” He frowned. “Not a one of us heard her go.”

  Quinn probably guessed what they’d been doing that put Josh so deeply asleep, but to his credit, he declined to bring that up. Instead he switched topics. “How much hot water are you going to be in, if you don’t go back on time?”

  “It’s not the hot water. They’ll wait on me. I’m the star.” Josh shook his head. “I’ve never held up a picture in my whole career, though. A lot of people’s incomes can be affected, but there’s padding built into a film budget. A few more days won’t cause them too many problems, and I’ll make up lost money if need be.” He found a quick grin. “My agent will shit. It’s a bad precedent for sure, but I couldn’t give a rip about this film, not when Elena…”

  “We don’t know anything yet,” Quinn reminded him.

  “I do. She’s gone back to face that bastard.” He huffed a small, humorless chuckle. “When I first met her, I thought she was this timid little mouse, but…there’s a lot more to her than that.” He stared into the distance, smiling fondly. “She wouldn’t even let me buy her breakfast—now she’s stealing my car. That’s growth, huh?”

  “I like her a lot.”

  Josh slid him a glance. “Yeah. She’s…amazing.” He knew his brother was staring at him, reading more than he probably wanted to reveal.

  He couldn’t stand it. He grabbed his cell and dialed again.

  “Blackwell.”

  “This is Josh Marshall. I need to talk to you about Elena Navarro.”

  “Who?” the man hedged.

  “I’m glad you’re discreet. My brother Quinn was on the Houston force with Roberto Aleman.” Aleman was now FBI, and Quinn trusted him completely.

  What they’d learned about Blackwell was a big surprise.

  “Okay,” Blackwell responded cautiously.

  “Aleman checked you out for us before Elena called you. Her friend Carmen had already said she could trust you, but Elena’s been through too much, and I wanted to be careful. So we know you’re there undercover.”

  “And?”

  “And Elena’s gone. I’m pretty sure she’s on her way to Mesa Roja, you sonofabitch.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. So here’s the question: are you going to help me find her before she tries to save your girlfriend by using herself as bait for that bastard who’s abused her for years?”

  “You don’t know what you’re stepping into. You need to let me handle this.”

  “I didn’t ask your permission. I don’t care about anything but making sure Elena is safe.”

  “I see you, I’ll slap cuffs on you.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be better than the crooked sheriff.”

  A sharp exhalation. “You really need to stay out of this. I can’t discuss any of it.”

  “You’re working alone, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  Quinn’s stony jaw revealed his displeasure at Josh turning this into a confrontation.

  Cops. But Josh made himself stop. Take a breath. “Okay, look. I’m worried about Elena, so I probably came on too strong.”

  “Ya think?”

  “I have my brother the cop glaring at me in your place. The brotherhood stands together, apparently.”

  Quinn’s mouth curved.

  “All I want is Elena safe,” Josh said. “I don’t want to get in your way or mess up your case.”

  “Good.”

  “But I want to help. I have an idea.”

  A long pause. Josh could picture the guy trying to decide if he would take time to listen.

  A long sigh. “Tell me. No promises.”

  “You heard me say I’m Josh Marshall, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well—crap, I hate doing this. I’m that Josh Marshall. You know, Force Recon, The Last Ride?”

  “Uh-huh.” When Josh didn’t say anything, Blackwell did. “Seriously? You’re not jerking my chain?”

  “Nope. So I’m thinking that because Kruger is paranoid as the devil, according to Elena, you’re not likely to be spending time with him, right? She thinks something’s happening soon, so he’s probably got everything locked down tight, and everyone’s suspicious, looking for spies in the woodwork, right?”

  “Go on.”

  “You know the story of the Trojan Horse?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, I can be your Trojan Horse. I come to town not in any sort of disguise but as me, scouting for a film, a Western I actually do want to make. Got the script for it and everything. Pretentious guy like Kruger, I’m total catnip for him. He’ll want to meet me, bet you money. Probably want to entertain me, too.”

  “You’re not a cop. You’re not trained. Plus I’m betting there are some folks in L.A. who would not be happy about this idea.”

  “First of all, I’m a black belt in both tae kwon do and Krav Maga, I’m proficient with firearms, and I’ve trained with the SEALs—and you can bet they didn’t go easy on me. But—” he could already hear the sounds of protest “—I’m not a cop, you’re right. My brother was, though, and he’ll go with me, posing as my bodyguard.” He looked at Quinn, who nodded and looked happier at this news. “And I’m not going in to start a fight. I’m going in to see what I hear while this asshole tries to impress me. You can wire me if you want to, but regardless, what I’m there to do is to get in front of him and keep him distracted while you find Elena. I’ve got a plane landing in Amarillo in an hour, and I’ll be in Mesa Roja before she has time to drive there. I want you to use your resources to find her and stop her before she arrives.”

  Another long pause.

  “Look, I’m going whether you agree or not. I don’t care what happens to your case—all I care about is Elena’s safety.”

  “Will you shut up for a second and let me think?”

  Startled, Josh grinned. Nobody talked like this to him anymore, well, except Quinn. Then he sobered, thinking of all that was on the line.

  Finally Greg spoke. �
��Okay, here’s the deal. No, I’m not wiring you. That’s dangerous and too easy to go south. But I can set your brother up so I can listen in to what’s going on.”

  “Fine by me. Whatever gets the job done.”

  “Get this straight—I don’t like this one bit.”

  “I know.”

  “But I’m getting the sense here, too, that time is critical, and I’m hitting brick walls. Without more to go on, I can’t bring in the troops. There’s no time for us to put anyone else in place, but using civilians goes against the grain. You get killed, it’s on you. I’m also not gonna give you much leeway before I yank you. And you’d better be a damn good actor.”

  “I am.” Josh frowned at the challenge to his skills.

  “Not in Take the A Train you weren’t.”

  Josh couldn’t help it—a laugh burst from him. “Not my finest work, I agree.” How the hell could he be laughing?

  “All right, damn it. I’ve got about a thousand rules I’m fixing to drop on you, but first, run through your scenario from the beginning again.”

  Josh started talking.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When scouting filming locations in the past, Josh had found that, far better than talking to the chamber of commerce or tourism folks, the local watering hole or diner was the best place to learn the real flavor of a town.

  He’d had his assistant make a call to city hall, though, as well as to the sheriff’s office to give them a heads-up, with strict instructions to keep Josh’s visit on the down-low from the media or all interest in filming there would immediately cease. According to her, both the mayor and sheriff had eagerly agreed, which probably meant that they’d be taking surreptitious photos to post on the internet after he was gone.

  But that was okay. The prohibition had two aims: to keep the media away right now, yes, but also to serve as bait. He needed to attract Kruger’s attention, and his staff was more than capable of dealing with rumors. Once Elena was out of harm’s way, well…Mesa Roja wouldn’t be the first town to have its hopes dashed. He was sorry for that, but she was his only concern.

  “So you’re my silent, glowering protector, right?” he teased Quinn. “You sure you’re up for this?”

  “A little late for a change of plans now,” his brother pointed out.

  “I just mean that you’ve been focused on nurturing life in recent years, not being a badass.”

  “I can do both.” Quinn looked at him from behind his sunglasses. “And I’ve put in my time undercover, so I know how to play a role, too, little brother.”

  “Yeah,” Josh acknowledged. “But no putting yourself in any kind of danger, right? Lorie and the kids need you—damn, I should never have involved you. If anything bad happens…”

  “Chill, bro. A cop’s life isn’t like a movie production—you can’t call Cut when you want a do-over. I’ve spent a lot of years rolling with whatever happens and thinking on the fly.”

  “But I dragged you into this because I was trying to be some kind of hero. You’re the real hero in the family. I just play them. What if—”

  “Josh.” Quinn kept his tone patient. “We’re here. The op is underway. Elena needs help, and you’ve never been able to resist rescuing strays.” He glanced over again. “Where would Lorie be if you hadn’t taken her under your wing? I would never have met her. Or had my kids. Your white knight instinct is part of you. Nothing can change that.” He paused. “And none of us would want you to. So stop worrying about me and pay attention to yourself so you can pull this off.”

  There had been few times in recent years when Josh had experienced any moments of insecurity or doubt. To feel them so acutely now was humbling.

  Maybe, however, being off-balance was a good thing. It would make him more careful. He’d gotten a little cocky in his fame and fortune, he realized. Now it was time to play the role of his career, one that held real danger for people he cared about. Josh the man would play Josh the star, this time with lives on the line.

  For a second he wondered what it would be like to live as a regular person. Just to be himself, completely. He couldn’t remember anymore.

  Then Quinn pulled up in front of Hank’s Diner, and Josh performed that instant shift he was so accustomed to.

  “Showtime,” he murmured.

  “Nobody better at it,” his brother reminded him.

  Quinn held the door for him—and wasn’t that a trip?—then Josh walked inside.

  When the waitress’s mouth dropped open, he slid right into the part as if the cameras had begun rolling.

  He should be used to it by now.

  For a moment, everything just…stopped. Silence fell. Everyone stared.

  He wanted to say, hey can’t you tell? I’m just like you.

  Because once he had been.

  But no more.

  In this moment, Josh really understood what a gift the last few days with Elena had been. She thought she owed him, but really, he owed her. For a brief few days, even in the company of a woman who had been hiding secrets, he’d felt…normal.

  He’d missed it more than he’d realized.

  Now he was under a microscope again—and yes, he’d worked damn hard to put himself there—but he’d never understood, back when he’d started down this road, what the price would be. All he’d wanted was to act, to master the challenge of inhabiting a role so thoroughly that he could help others slip inside that character’s skin as they watched. He’d loved the work—he’d had no idea why. And, okay, yes, he’d liked getting noticed because who didn’t want to be recognized for being good at what they did, for who they were?

  But now it was as if Josh Marshall was the role, not the person. The line between Josh the Star and the real person had blurred.

  And like a yoke, it was choking him. He hadn’t understood how long it had been since he had last breathed deeply.

  Until Elena.

  Right now, however, a packed room of people were waiting for Josh the Star. For Elena, he had to let go of the only man she’d known…and become the Josh, the Event. The Main Show.

  He zeroed in on the red-haired waitress. Turned on the full wattage of his smile. “Hi there. I’m Josh Marshall. Think you could squeeze us in?”

  The woman blinked and kept staring. Then she shook herself. “Of course, Mr. Marshall. I am such a fan.”

  He laid another smile on her and winked. “I appreciate that more than you can imagine—” he read her nametag. “—Dottie.” He glanced around the room. “Hi, folks. Anybody want to tell me what’s the best thing on the menu?” He locked eyes on a teenage boy sitting at the counter and lifted his eyebrows.

  The boy straightened. “Can’t beat Hank’s cheeseburgers.”

  “My trainer will scream.” Josh’s grin wasn’t feigned as he slapped his palm on his belly. “It’s a deal.” Then he waded into the room, and the noise level began rising.

  Dottie pointed. “Mooney, you get up and let Mr. Marshall have your table.”

  The two men sitting there started to rise, but Josh shook his head. “No, please don’t do that, but maybe you’d consider letting us join you?”

  Another buzz zipped through the room. Didn’t matter that probably half the people in here had done more important things with their lives than play pretend for a living. That for damn sure the man who’d walked into this powder keg at his side was a real hero and not someone who played them on the screen…

  Josh the Star was in the house.

  And Josh, the worried man hoping to save one small, precious woman, needed to use every advantage Star Josh could bring him. He took hold of the chair that had been pulled out for him and extended his hand. “I’m Josh Marshall, Mr… Mooney, is it?”

  “Mooney Walker’s my name.” The man shook his hand. “This here’s Andy Saenz. Over there’s my granddaughter Hope. Don’t suppose you’d—?”

  “I’d be happy to.” Josh crooked a finger at Dottie and when she came close, he spoke into her ear. “Bring me the
bill for the whole crowd, would you?”

  Her eyes popped wide. “Seriously?”

  “You bet.”

  “If you say so…”

  “I do. Mooney, you and Andy had dessert yet?”

  And so it began.

  Josh was returning from the kitchen, where he’d sincerely congratulated the cook on one of the best cheeseburgers he’d ever eaten. He’d managed to get it down while answering a plethora of questions about his costars, about his training for the role he played as a Navy SEAL, about whether he actually sometimes did his own stunt work as reported…and on and on. He could answer them in his sleep, but these people weren’t piranhas as he too often encountered in LA. They were just hard-working, salt of the earth folks much like those he came from, so he didn’t begrudge the time at all.

  He might need this goodwill to help Elena.

  Where are you, sweetheart? He itched to call Greg Blackwell to find out if there was any progress tracking her.

  But he couldn’t afford to think about her right now. She’d made her way to a place inside him few had ever managed.

  Suddenly he realized the cafe had gone quiet. He emerged from the kitchen to see two men just entering. One was mostly forgettable, medium height, medium frame, gray hair, fiftyish.

  The other he’d have known even without the badge, gun belt, cowboy hat and beer gut.

  “Mr. Marshall, I’m George Watkins, mayor of Mesa Roja. This is Sheriff Lon Carlson. Welcome to our fair city.”

  Josh hid his amusement. This was a dried-up tumbleweed of a near ghost town, nothing close to a city. He took the offered handshakes. “Gentlemen, I appreciate you taking the time to show me around.”

  “I’d expected you to drop by city hall first,” the mayor said.

  “We thought we’d grab a bite to eat,” Josh said easily, though he heard the whine. “Glad we did. Got some terrific food and met a bunch of your fine citizens.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Place does a good business, I see.” So predictable that you’d spread the word around town, you little worm.

  The mayor flushed. “Yes, we’re very proud of Hank’s establishment. Another place you might enjoy is Lupita’s, if you like Mexican food.”