The Prosecutor

by Nichole Severn

  She stepped back as though she’d been hit, the breath rushing out of her. Tears glistened in her eyes as she seemed to regain her balance, but he battled the urge to reach out. He read her answer a split second before the words left her perfectly shaped mouth. “I have to go.”

  “What?” Shock coursed through him. “Where?”

  Diving for the duffel bag he’d discarded on the floor beside his feet, she shouldered their supplies and headed toward the front door. Long hair trailed out from behind her as Madison fled.

  “Madison, wait.” He threaded his hand between her arm and rib cage in an effort to slow her down, before she made a mistake she couldn’t recover from.

  “Don’t touch me.” She turned on him, a hardness in her expression that hadn’t been there before, and ripped out of his hold. Her shoulders rose and fell in harsh waves. His fingers stung where her shirt had caused friction, but the oncoming pain of having her walk out that door paralyzed him in place. “I’ve spent my entire life ensuring I didn’t have to depend on anyone, Jonah, but that’s exactly what you’re asking me to do. All anyone has ever done in my life is betray me, try to control me, and I swore to myself I’d never let someone trap me again.” Her knuckles fought to break through the back of her hand as she pointed one long, slim finger at him. “Now you want me to give up on becoming district attorney—of proving I can support this baby without you—so you can have a chance to be a full-time father again.”

  He swallowed as a rush of grief thickened in his chest.

  “I’m sorry you lost Noah all those years ago. I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve had to live with because of that, but I am not helpless.” She shook her head. “I am not worthless. I’ve taken care of myself since the day I turned ten years old, and I don’t need a white knight to swoop in and tell me what’s best for me and my son. I thought you understood that.” The tears fell. “Don’t come after us, Jonah. We don’t need you.”

  Her son. Not theirs. Jonah held his ground as she wrenched open the front door and stepped beyond the perimeter of safety. Taking his son with her.

  * * *

  SHE WAS SUPPOSED to be stronger than this.

  Madison hauled the bag he’d packed full of food and her clothing toward the SUV and threw it into the passenger seat. Her heels wobbled on the uneven ground, but the rift of hollowness and anger only pushed her harder. She’d gone up against the most terrifying and threatening criminals in the state over the past two years. She’d achieved justice for victims and families, got offenders off the streets, and helped children escape the same fate she’d survived all while holding herself in check every step of the way. But the pressure inside was building to unrecognizable levels.

  She collapsed into the driver’s seat and gripped the cold leather of the steering wheel, not bothering to check the front door to see if Jonah had followed. She’d trusted him with her body, her entire being. She’d started to believe he would be the last person on earth who’d turn what they had into a domestic cage she wouldn’t be able to escape. Just like her mother. Madison pulled down the visor and let the car keys drop into her lap. Swiping at the tears, she twisted the key in the ignition and started the engine.

  In seconds, she maneuvered the vehicle down the long dirt road heading back to the main highway. Jonah would have to call someone on his team for a ride. Because she never wanted to see him again. As soon as she reached out to one of her contacts in the Washington State USMS division to have her protection detail transferred to a new marshal, she’d call her lawyer. She’d offered to have her attorney draft a custody and visitation agreement when she’d learned about Jonah’s first son’s death. She’d wanted to help ease the pain he’d carried all this time, wanted to do something good, but now... Now she understood he’d only used his grief to insert himself into her life. Just as he’d tried to do from the beginning.

  Had any of it been real?

  The promises? The desire? The way he claimed she made him feel? The tightness in her chest constricted her breathing. Had he cared for her at all or had everything he’d done up until now been only for the sake of their child?

  The answer settled at the tip of her tongue. Thick trees and endless miles of dirt stretched out to either side of her as she headed toward the highway. Two and a half hours west before she hit the edge of the city. That was all the time she needed to forget the past three days. Forget the way he’d gone out of his way to protect her, to forget how he’d helped fill the void left behind by her parents’ selfishness and neglect. Forget how he’d convinced her to fall in love with him. Leveraging her elbow onto the window ledge of the driver’s side door, she rested her temple against her palm. “It wasn’t real. None of it could’ve been real.”

  The only person she could depend on in this world was herself. She’d learned that as a kid growing up in Los Angeles, learned that as a law student and as a deputy district attorney here in Oregon.

  “It’s you and me. That’s all we need, right?” That was all they needed. That was all she’d ever needed, but the ache around her heart tried to convince her otherwise. Straightening, she slid her hand over her bulging bump. “We’re going to make it.”

  She didn’t have any other choice.

  Turning east onto Highway 26, she pressed her foot onto the accelerator to get up to speed, but the SUV’s engine sputtered. Once. Twice. Black smoke streamed out from the edges of the hood, and the speedometer plummeted toward zero. A strong exhale escaped her control as she pulled the vehicle to the side of the road. Moonlight shone straight overhead as she threw the SUV into Park and pulled at the hood release near her left leg. She looked down at her baby bump. “Do you come programmed with car maintenance know-how? Because apparently your sperm donor does not.”

  Defeat pulled her deeper into the leather seat. An invisible ache squeezed her chest tighter as she played through the last words she’d spit at Jonah. We don’t need you. But it hadn’t been the truth. Because she’d come to rely on him for more than protection. As more than a rescuer. He’d been safety personified, someone she’d come to trust over her own instincts, a reminder of the good in the world and that she deserved a small piece of it. He’d been...everything.

  Right up until he’d broken their unspoken agreement.

  She pulled a flashlight from the glove compartment and turned off the car. The edges of the light were sharper than any other she’d used. A tactical flashlight, designed to cause damage if needed and light the way at the same time. Madison waited for a break in traffic before stepping onto the pavement and rounding the hood. She unhitched it and hauled it above her head. Something burnt and sickening dived into her lungs before the smoke cleared. Scanning the caps and knobs—as though she had any idea what the hell made a vehicle function—she focused on one that looked like it might be missing altogether. Heat worked under her blouse from the engine, steam whipping around her as it came into contact with Oregon spring temperatures. The cap was missing, and from the labels on the thick black hose beside the container, it looked like it’d come off the radiator. She peered down into the well but met nothing but blackness. Empty. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Another car sped past and the SUV shook slightly. She’d handed over her cell phone to Jonah when he’d taken her into protective custody. She didn’t have any way of calling for a tow truck or maintenance, and there were still nearly one hundred miles between her and the city. Technically, there were physically fewer than that between her and Jonah, but she’d walk straight to Portland if that meant never having to face him again. Damn it. She clenched the edge of the SUV’s frame. According to him, Deputy Chief Remington Barton required all the marshals on her team to carry emergency supplies and extra fluids for their vehicles. She’d wanted them to be ready for any threat.

  Madison wedged herself between the SUV and the highway safety rail to keep from getting hit by an oncoming vehicle and opened the back
cargo hatch. Confusion rippled through her. The space was empty. No supplies. No extra ammunition. No gasoline or coolant. That didn’t make sense.

  Headlights flashed from behind her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Jonah wouldn’t have taken out his emergency supplies. Not as they were getting ready to move to another safe house. What were the chances of her vehicle running out of coolant in the middle of the night just as she needed to flee the safe house? The supplies were gone. She was stranded. A car door slammed a few feet away, and her heart rocketed into her throat. “Looks like you’re having some car troubles. Can I help?”

  “No, thank you. I’ve already called for help.” Without being able to see the Good Samaritan’s face backlit by blinding headlights, she braved the risk of a vehicle not noticing her on the side of the road and walked toward the driver’s side door. She wouldn’t be able to drive the SUV as is, but a layer of steel and glass between her and the man behind her was better than nothing.

  “Come on now, Madison,” he said over the roar of traffic. “You and I both know you’ve never been a very good liar. That’s what makes you one of the best prosecutors in the state. Your determination to do what’s right, even if you’re the one who pays the price.”

  It was him, the man who’d thrown her over the bridge. He’d found her. Fear tensed the muscles down her spine. Hand on the driver’s side door, Madison calculated her options for escape. Waving down another car would put innocent lives at risk. Using the SUV as a safe space hadn’t worked in her favor at the second bombing scene. Wilderness lined each side of the two-lane highway, but darkness had already fallen. She didn’t have time to grab the bag of supplies from the front seat. If she disappeared into the trees, she’d be running blind, running scared and running without hope of the marshals finding her, but it was still her best option.

  “There’s nowhere for you to run this time, Counselor.” He moved in on her, one step at a time. “And no one who’s going to save you.”

  She didn’t wait for her abductor to make the first move. Grip tight on the tactical flashlight, she kicked off her heels and dashed straight across the road into westbound traffic. Headlights grew larger a second before a blaring horn screamed in her ears. The pickup truck barely missed hitting her before she fled into the eastbound lane. Loose gravel and uneven pavement cut into her feet as she pumped her legs hard. She cut the power to the flashlight and ran for the guardrail lining the highway, not daring to look back.

  Cold steel grazed her thighs as she vaulted over the rail and landed on the other side. Almost there. She just had to reach the trees. He wouldn’t be able to find her in the trees. Her heart rate struggled to keep up with her lungs, fingers numb around the flashlight. Dirt bled into thickening weeds ten feet ahead. It was a straight shot. She was almost—

  The ground disappeared out from under her.

  She lost the flashlight as gravity pulled her down into the steep incline and into a shallow canyon of litter, water and dirt. A scream escaped up her throat before air crushed from her lungs. She hit the bottom on her side, nothing but wide-open sky above her and miles of trees beside her. Salt and copper mixed in a dizzying flood in her mouth. A groan escaped from between her teeth.

  Holding on to her belly with one hand, Madison pressed to sit up. Immobilizing pain shot through her wrist and up her arm, and she cried out. Her wrist had possibly broken from the fall. Didn’t matter. She had to keep moving. She wouldn’t become another victim in this madman’s game. She wasn’t going to let Rosalind Eyler or her partner win. Not when there was so much to lose.

  Gravel crunched under dense footsteps from behind, and she patted the ground around her to find Jonah’s tactical flashlight she’d dropped. “I have to hand it to you, Madison. I didn’t think killing you would be this hard. You’re a fighter. I appreciate that, but you’re only making this harder on yourself.”

  The footsteps slowed as her fingers felt something heavy and cold. The flashlight. She clicked on the power. Wrapping her fingers around the body, she swung around as hard as she could and met her abductor. Strong fingers locked around her wrist and squeezed. The light from the flashlight cascaded across her attacker’s bare face, and recognition flared. No. It wasn’t... It wasn’t possible. “You?”

  “Me.” He slammed the edge of the flashlight into her face, and everything went black.

  Chapter Thirteen

  He shouldn’t have let her go.

  Rosaline Eyler and her partner were still out there, still a threat, and Madison had escaped down the mountain without any way for him to follow. She might’ve claimed she didn’t need him, but he sure as hell needed her.

  Three knocks on the front door reverberated through the house, and Jonah wrenched it open harder than he’d meant.

  “You don’t call. You don’t write. Here I thought we were beginning to become friends after I let your suspect beat the crap out of me.” Deputy Marshal Dylan Cove stalked through the front door and took in the raised ceilings. “Why aren’t any of my safe houses this nice?”

  “Madison left in my SUV twenty minutes ago. We need to find her.” Jonah tossed his phone at the marshal with the vehicle’s tracking data on the screen as he reached for his Kevlar vest. “According to this, she hasn’t moved in minutes, and I’m not giving Rosalind Eyler or her partner a chance to catch up with her. We’re running out of time. Where is the rest of the team?”

  “Remi is running point on the manhunt for the Rip City Bomber with Reed, Foster and that FBI guy you don’t seem to like. Special Agent Jackson.” Cove studied the date on the phone. “You get me. You should feel honored.”

  “Let’s go. You drive.” Jonah strapped into his vest and holstered his sidearm. In less than thirty seconds, they left the cabin behind and were headed down the mountain. Every cell in his body raced with anxiety. “Where are we at with the list of prosecutors in line to take over the Rip City Bomber case if Madison Gray is unable to perform her duties?”

  Cove nodded toward the middle console. “The list is in the file. I took the liberty of pulling phone records, financials and background checks for the top three candidates I got from the district attorney, but I’m not sure what you’re hoping to find. All three names came back clean. No visible connection to Rosalind Eyler, no access to the Rip City Bomber case and no evidence any of them has purchased the components to make a homemade bomb in the last twelve months.”

  Damn it. Their bomber wasn’t going to make this easy for them, was he? Jonah skimmed through the file. Two male candidates, one female. He could rule out the female due to evidence and the altercation on the bridge, leaving two males. Cove was right. Background checks, financials, phone records. None of it led to motive for someone inside the district attorney’s office, which left Jonah’s original suspect, Special Agent Collin Jackson. He scanned through the next section of documents. “You included the statements Reed took from the officers assigned perimeter duty at the second bombing scene.”

  The bomber had gotten onto and off the scene without the Portland Police Bureau noticing. Or the bastard had presumed clearance to be there. Jonah read through the account of one of the officers assigned to watch the crime scene perimeter on the east end of the street, where forensics had narrowed down the exact spot Madison had been taken. The SUV bounced along the unpaved dirt road as they headed toward the highway, but that didn’t stop Jonah from highlighting a single name as the rest of the text bled away. He turned the statement toward Cove. “This officer states he let only one person under the tape while he was on duty that day, but never saw the man leave. Want to guess who?”

  Cove focused on the name Jonah underscored with his finger. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “He had the means and the opportunity. I should’ve seen it before now. I should’ve known.” Jonah pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the deputy chief. The bomber hadn’t been law enforcement at
all, but the SOB might as well have been considering his access to the investigation and the Rip City Bomber case. Hell, how had he missed it? And how the hell had the bastard been able to keep tabs on Madison? The line connected, and he put the call on speaker. “Remi, I need everything you have on Pierce Cook. Now.”

  “The district attorney?” Surprise laced her question, but the remoteness of her voice said she’d put him on speaker, presumably to keep her hands free to get him what he’d asked for. “I need you to be one hundred and ten percent sure about this, Watson. The second I put in this request, I’m going to have the governor on my back asking why I pulled background on the most popular elected official in the state.”

  He had to be sure. The Oregon USMS division wasn’t the only one who’d suffer if he made a mistake. Madison would lose her job completely, lose everything she’d ever worked for. He’d already blown his chance of turning what they had into something more, of them raising their son together. He couldn’t ruin this for her, too.

  Jonah strengthened his hand around the phone. “Madison told me Pierce Cook is scheduled to announce his retirement in the next month, that he put her on the Rip City Bomber case because he wanted a strong prosecutor to see the case through to the end. But a case like this would put him down in the history books for life. What if assigning her this case hadn’t been his choice? His term is coming to an end. Madison’s been recognized by the governor for her work. It’d be easy to confirm the governor is the one who assigned Madison the case and not the district attorney as we believed. He could’ve just been responsible for giving her the assignment.”