by Marta Perry
Then she saw. A hand, a gun, extended from the window of the car. Pointed toward her. She veered, hearing a muffled report that echoed from the concrete walls of the garage. No time to think. Just run, dodge behind the nearest car, find shelter. She crouched behind a car, heart thumping loudly in her ears. Safe for a moment, but they’d pull up parallel to her and have a direct shot. She couldn’t stay here, but where could she go?
She heard the roar of a motor, the screech of tires—too late, too late to evade—
Micah—it was Micah, leaping from his vehicle. He reached her in a heartbeat, grabbed her by the arms. She felt his strength as he lifted her, practically carried her over the few feet to his truck. He threw her into the vehicle, shoved her to the floor and slammed the door. In an instant he’d slid behind the steering wheel, stamping on the accelerator without even closing his door. She was thrown against the dash as the vehicle veered, making a U-turn. Metal shrieked—they must have hit one of the pillars. The door slammed shut even as something pinged against it.
A bullet, her numbed mind acknowledged. The person in the other car was shooting at them.
Tires screamed. Micah rounded the turns, heading for the exit. There’d be a bar across the lane; he’d have to stop. The pursuers would be on them before he’d identified himself—
A crash, and the vehicle shuddered but kept going. Pieces of the barrier flew in all directions. She thought she heard someone yell.
They surged up the ramp to the street, taking the turn into traffic on two wheels as horns blared and brakes shrieked. Bracing herself against the seat, she looked up, focusing on Micah’s face—stern, unyielding, intent. He’d saved her, yet again. She could trust him. Trust no one. But she had to.
He didn’t shift his eyes from the street ahead, but she sensed his attention on her.
“Get into the seat. Buckle up. I need you to watch for them.”
She hesitated, fear riding her.
“Do it,” he snapped.
Choking down the fear, she slid into the seat, fastening her seat belt. “I’m in.”
“Where are they?”
She turned, scanning the crowded street behind them. Trust no one. But she had to trust someone, and the other men had guns. Besides, this was Micah.
“I see them. They’re a half block back, maybe more. In the far right lane.”
Jerking a curt nod, Micah tightened his grip on the wheel. They were nearing an intersection, the light turned yellow—
Without slowing, Micah took a hard left through the intersection, ignoring the horns that blared in their wake. He sped along the wide street.
She struggled to orient herself. She had only been to Billings a handful of times since moving to Montana, and the city layout was still a mystery to her. They were somewhere in the downtown business district, that was all she could be sure of.
“Are they still there?”
She turned in the seat again, craning her neck. “I don’t see them. Maybe we lost them.”
“Not that easily.”
He took another turn. Then another. Did he have a destination in mind, or was he just trying to lose the pursuers?
“Where are we going?”
His brow furrowed, but he didn’t answer.
“Micah, where are you taking me?”
“Someplace safe.” He snapped the words. “Keep watching for them.”
She obeyed, trying to force herself to think rationally. Trust no one. That message had been from Micah’s own brother. Hadn’t it? Maybe that had been a trick. But Micah had saved her. Her thoughts spun in futile circles.
She wanted to trust Micah. But why wasn’t he calling for help? Why wasn’t he heading straight to the Federal Building and safety? Surely that was the most sensible thing to do. The small worm of suspicion gnawed at her, refusing to be ignored.
He switched off the busy road onto a side street lined with smaller shops.
“Still no sign of that car.” She watched the street unroll behind them. “We must be safe.”
A grunt was his only answer. Obviously he didn’t trust her judgment. Well, what was new about that?
Her handbag lay on the floor, where it had fallen when Micah pitched her into the vehicle. Her cell phone was inside. If she tried to take it out, to call someone, what would Micah do?
A park ran along the right side of the street, deserted at the moment except for a dog-walker or two. Micah veered suddenly, pulling into a road that ran through the park, slowing down.
He took one turn, then another. She could only hope he knew where he was. Then, when a grove of trees screened them from the street, he pulled to the curb and stopped. Her breath caught. What—
He turned, his hand shooting out to grasp her arm.
“What’s going on? Why were you out of your room?”
“I didn’t…” She stopped. Started again. “I had a phone call.”
“A call.” Frustration edged his voice. “What call was important enough to make you leave the hotel room without letting me know? Who called?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Your brother. The call was a message from your brother.”
His face tightened, and she wasn’t sure how to read his expression. “My brother. What did he say?”
“I didn’t talk to him.” She’d have known Jackson’s voice, she thought. “It was a different FBI agent, with a message from him.”
“And what was the message?” He sounded as if his patience was strained to the breaking point. She closed her eyes briefly, remembering the voice on the phone. “He said he was calling for Special Agent Jackson McGraw. He said there had been a security leak from the marshal’s office, and Special Agent McGraw was coming to meet me.” She hesitated, knowing the rest of it would hurt him. “He said not to trust anyone, especially not anyone from the marshal’s office.”
Micah didn’t actually wince, but the fine lines around his mouth and his eyes deepened. “You figured that meant don’t trust me. And you ran.”
“What did you expect me to do?” Anger came to her rescue. “Ignore his instructions?”
“Instead you nearly got yourself killed.” He slapped the palm of his hand against the steering wheel. Killed. Her stomach lurched. She hadn’t had time to process that yet.
“Was it true, what he said?” Her fingers linked together. She needed something to hold on to. Micah stared out at a picnic pavilion covered with snow. He didn’t meet her eyes, and that in itself told her it was true.
“Another woman in Witness Protection in Montana has been killed.” His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in it. “Somehow the Mob knew how to find her, just as they seemed to know how to find Ruby. The only place we can see that information coming from is our office.”
She sucked in a breath, trying to comprehend it. “Is that how those men knew where to find me today?”
“Probably.”
“But your brother said…”
He glared at her, his brown eyes as hard as that chiseled chin. “Get this through your head. That so-called message was a trap. The call didn’t come from the FBI. Jackson would never ask you to leave the safety of your room to meet him.”
The word chilled her, and a shiver slid down her spine.
“So someone in your office told them where I was. I never was safe there. They’ll find me, no matter where I am.”
“No.” He barked the word, his fingers closing over her wrist. They slid under her jacket sleeve, warm against the skin. “Don’t tell yourself that. They’re not omnipotent. Now that we know there’s a leak, we’ll find it. We’ll keep you safe.”
She wanted to believe that. Wanted to believe him. Be careful, the nagging little voice whispered at the back of her mind. He didn’t call for backup. He hasn't called in to report what happened.
“Shouldn’t we go back to the Federal Building?” She didn’t look at him when she asked the question. She didn’t want him to read the doubts in her eyes.
“It’s not safe
. We don’t know who the leak is. Until we do, we can’t trust anyone there.”
“But…” It was insane. The very people who were supposed to protect her couldn’t be trusted. “What about your brother? You can call him, can’t you?”
He frowned. “I will, but not until I’ve taken you someplace safe.”
Again the doubts came. Her instincts said to trust him, but she wasn’t a person who acted on instinct. She was logical, rational, a person of method and order, her life organized like the card catalog of her library.
As if he sensed her thoughts, his fingers moved on her wrist, weakening her will. “Jade, I’m trying to do what’s best for you. You can’t be anyplace that can be guessed by the traitor. Jackson has sent for his people, but until they get here, we’re on our own.”
“Is that what he said?” She seized on his words. “Does the FBI know what you’re doing?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he let go of her wrist. She put her hand over the place where his had been, trying to hold on to the warmth she felt when he touched her. Micah shifted gears and pulled onto the street again.
“There’s a guy I know—he was actually the first person I placed in Witness Protection. Stan Guthrie, his name is. He runs a lodge up in the mountains. It’s not on the list of safe houses, so even someone with access to that couldn’t know about him.”
“You want to take me there.” It sounded logical enough, the way he’d put it. Still, the doubt wasn’t easily dispelled.
“It’s the safest place I can think of. Stan won’t ask questions, and he owes me. He’ll keep you safe until we know who’s selling us out to the Mob.” His voice chilled on the words.
“You’re sure it’s someone in your office.” If he was telling the truth, that had to be a hard situation for him, having to admit that someone he worked with was betraying him. Betraying all of them.
“The location of witnesses is tightly guarded. We’ve always said that the U.S. Marshals have never lost anyone in Witness Protection who followed the rules. If this is the first lapse in security—well, it better also be the last.”
He flipped open his cell phone. “I’ll call Stan and make sure he’s there. Then we’ll head out of Billings. Okay?”
Did she have a choice? She nodded, wanting to believe him. Wanting to trust him.
But still unable to completely silence her doubts.
TWELVE
Micah didn’t breathe easily until they were well away from Billings, headed west on I-90. He still couldn’t relax, but at least he’d gotten Jade safely away. If their pursuers hadn’t caught up to them by now, they must have lost them. Jade hadn’t said a word in miles. He shot a sideways glance at her. She huddled in the seat, her arms wrapped around herself as if for comfort.
His heart clenched. She needed a bit of comfort. After everything else that had happened to her, finding out that someone from the agency she counted on to protect her was in league with the bad guys had to be a harsh blow. How many more strikes could she take? Ruby had been hardened—tough, streetwise, ready to adapt to whatever life swung at her. Jade wasn’t any of those things. Funny, that twins who’d been raised the same could turn out so very different.
His stomach growled, reminding him that it was well past lunch time. His mind flickered back to that breakfast he’d shared with Olivia, before his professional world fell apart. It might as well have happened months ago. He’d have to find a place to eat. If you let yourself get too hungry or too tired when you were on the job, the chances went up that you’d make a mistake. They were coming up on an exit, with a truck stop that was probably as good as any.
“What say we stop and get some lunch? Is that okay with you?”
His voice sounded too hearty, even to himself, maybe because he was so aware of letting her down. His agency, his office, someone he worked with had betrayed them, and he hadn’t seen that coming.
Jade roused at his question. “That sounds good.” She glanced out the window. “I guess I am getting hungry.”
She sounded detached. Too detached. He could only pray she wasn’t giving in to hopelessness. He wouldn’t let them get her, no matter what it cost. But there was no point in telling her that again. Only deeds would convince her now, not words.
“Maybe we ought to order something to go. We still have a long drive to the mountains.”
And longer still until he’d safely stowed her away and told Jackson what he’d done. And listened to the flak he’d take for his unilateral action. Were they already wondering why he hadn’t gone back to the office?
No, they wouldn’t wonder. They’d know. By now they were aware that a vehicle whose description fit his had crashed through a barricade at the hotel’s parking garage. They’d know Jade was gone. With any luck, they’d have an APB out on the maroon sedan.
He switched his cell phone on to check. Plenty of calls, most of them from his brother or his boss. He was going to be in plenty deep trouble by the time he finally got in touch with them. How many years of desk duty was this going to earn him?
He hesitated a moment and then switched the phone off again. No point in listening to the irate calls telling him to bring Jade back at once. Not when he had no intention of doing that. He’d call when she was safe, not before. He pulled into the truck stop, automatically scanning the area, alert for any sign of the maroon sedan or anything else that looked suspicious. It was on the late side for lunch, so there wasn’t that much traffic at the truck stop. A small group of truckers clustered in front of their rigs, seeming deep in conversation, their breaths forming a little cloud around them. An older couple exited the restaurant and climbed into their RV as he watched. Florida plates. What on earth were they doing in Montana in midwinter?
“Looks okay.” He cut the engine. “Let’s go in.”
Jade nodded. She opened the door and slid out while he was still reaching for the door handle. He climbed out, stretching a little, and turned toward her. Jade took off running across the lot, headed for the group of truckers, screaming.
Shock immobilized him for a moment. Then he raced after her, nerves standing on end from that scream.
“Jade! What’s wrong?” He was about ten feet away when she reached the men—close enough to hear what she said to them.
“Help, please, help me! That man—he’s abducting me!”
She swung, pointing an accusing finger directly at him. Anger battled hurt…anger that she’d drawn attention to them this way. Hurt that after everything that had happened between them, she so clearly didn’t trust him.
“Jade, come on.” He took a few steps closer. “This isn’t going to help.”
One of the truckers moved in front of her. Big, burly, well over two hundred pounds of muscle, probably. The others followed his lead, forming a wall between him and Jade. He sent them a warning glance. “Look, guys, you don’t want to get involved in this. Just step away and let me handle it.”
They didn’t budge. The wiry guy on the end reached into the cab of the nearest rig. He pulled out a baseball bat and smacked it suggestively against his palm. The big guy held up a fist the size of a ham. “You’re the one who better step away, bud. And do it fast, before we decide to take a piece out of you.”
Baseball Bat wasn’t waiting. He took a stride toward Micah, swinging the bat. “I say we take him out first. Then call the county mounties and let them deal with what’s left.”
Micah balanced on the balls of his feet. He had no wish to be on the receiving end of that bat. And no choices left. He pulled out his badge.
“U.S. Marshal,” he snapped. “That woman is in my custody.”
Baseball Bat blanched, but he still had some bluster in him. “She says different.”
“You’ve seen my ID. Either you get out of the way or I run you in for interfering with a federal officer. That what you want?”
For an instant it hung in the balance. Then, as if someone had given a signal, the men melted away like snow on a summer day.
Still, it would be safer just to get going. They’d eat later. Micah advanced on Jade and grabbed her wrist. She pulled back. He tightened his grip.
“Enough, Jade. Don’t make me handcuff you.”
Her gaze flew to his. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
That was anger speaking, but it seemed to do the trick. She walked along docilely enough to the vehicle and slid into the seat when he held the door open. She stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him, but color flamed in her cheeks.
So she was mad. He was, too. Anger was the safest resort at this point, because if he let go of the anger, he’d know exactly how much it hurt.
Jade wrapped her arms around herself, holding on tight. If she didn’t, she just might fly into a million separate pieces, and what good would that do?
She stole a glance at Micah. He stared straight ahead at the highway, his face as cold and hard as the macadam. If he really was the man she hoped he was, she’d hurt him badly. Doubt was a cold, hard ball in the pit of her stomach. When that man had advanced on him with the baseball bat, she’d been flooded with the urge to retract it all. To say anything that would protect him.
He hadn’t needed her protection. All he’d had to do was pull out that badge. It was like a magic talisman in a fairy tale, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. Good, in the right hands. In the wrong—
“What possessed you?” He shot the question at her, not taking his eyes from the road. “Don’t you realize how dangerous that stunt could have been?”
No answer came to mind, except the simple truth. “I wanted to be safe.”
A tiny muscle pulsed in his jaw, the only sign of movement in his taut expression. “Keeping you safe is my job. I thought you trusted me.”
“Trust works both ways, Micah.” The spurt of anger warmed her.
Now he did look at her. “What do you mean? I trust you.”
“Trust me?” Her voice went up without volition. “How can you say you trust me? You haven’t explained what’s going on. Why are you taking off on your own? Why haven’t you been in touch with your brother? You aren’t doing any of the things it would be logical to do, and yet you expect me just to go along with you.”