The Prosecutor

by Nichole Severn

  Cove shot the SUV through the partially open gate, then parked off to one side.

  Jonah shoved out of the vehicle, and they both rounded to the rear, gearing up. Jonah pushed through the pain in his shoulder and side and reached for the shotgun case. He loaded three rounds into the stock and added three more to his vest for easy access. His pistol was enough to take down any threat, but he couldn’t waste time trying to get inside one of these storage units by hand. The shotgun would do the job. He closed the space between him and the security officer. “Which unit does that man own?”

  “I...I have no idea.” The attendant slid the phone down his cheek, then pointed off to their right. “But he drove that way.”

  Hell. Jonah studied the long row of structure after structure. Twenty, thirty, forty units, all barely lit with flickering and worn-out lighting on the outside. It would take time to search them all. Time Madison didn’t have. Hauling the stock of the shotgun against his shoulder, he angled the barrel toward the pavement and took up position along the right side of the first row. “You take the left. Open any one of these units if you feel you have cause. Keep your ears open and your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. According to the attendant, Pierce is still here.”

  Shadows jumped from unit to unit as Jonah kept himself pressed against the wall, stopping at each unit only for a moment before moving on to the next. No cries for help. No sign of her or the bastard who’d taken her. Doubt coiled low in his gut. The cell towers had pinged Pierce Cook’s location near this storage facility. Had he been wrong in assuming this was where the district attorney had taken his prey?

  A scrape of metal echoed off the steel rolltop doors and both Cove and Jonah slowed as they neared the end of the row. With a glance at the former private investigator, he signaled for Cove to use caution with two fingers. Jonah was in the dark from this side of the alley. No sight lines, but also perfectly positioned to move on the target quickly.

  Cove pressed his back flat against the unit behind him and leaned his head to the left to survey the source of the noise. Straightening, he nodded, then crossed the narrow alleyway to join Jonah on the other side. “Single suspect, looks like Cook, loading boxes into the back of a moving truck. No sign of Madison with him.”

  “She has to be in one of the units in the next row.” Only problem, which one? Moving trucks didn’t exactly fit in these narrow alleys, forcing the district attorney to park at the end of the row, which meant Pierce Cook had most likely used a dolly system to get from his unit to the truck. “I don’t care what you have to do to bring him down, but I want him alive. He’s the only one who can tell us which unit she’s in. Understand?”

  “Copy.” Deputy Marshal Dylan Cove loaded a round into his sidearm and nodded. “Ready when you are.”

  “Move.” Jonah rounded the corner, shotgun raised, and caught sight of their suspect loading the last of whatever he’d come for into the back of the truck. “District Attorney Pierce Cook, you’re under arrest. Turn around, interlace your hands behind your head and get down on your knees. Now.”

  The man at the rear of the truck straightened slowly, his back to both marshals. Dark hair skimmed along the back of the suspect’s sweater collar before he turned to face them. Pierce Cook leveled light-colored eyes on them. Confirmation. They had him. “Marshal Watson, I take it this isn’t a social call. Now, just so I get this right when I call the governor in the morning to have your badge, exactly what crime are you accusing me of?”

  “Murder of nine people, including Harvey Braddock, kidnapping of Madison Gray, attempted murder of a deputy district attorney, three counts of use of explosives in a public area.” Jonah took one step, then another. “Want me to keep going? I’m sure the prosecutor at your trial will have a lot more.”

  “Trial? I’m not going to trial, Marshal. You can arrest me, but I guarantee I won’t spend more than an hour behind bars. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Pierce squared off as though ready for a fight. “I was sorry to hear about what happened to Madison. Almost killed in that courthouse bombing, then abducted by a masked man from Harvey Braddock’s home and nearly thrown over a bridge. I can’t imagine how awful you must feel considering you were the one who was supposed to protect her and her baby, but the fact of the matter is neither you nor the USMS have evidence connecting me to any of what you just said.”

  “Where is she?” Jonah strengthened his grip on the shotgun, his instincts focused on neutralizing the threat to his family. To his future.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I have a feeling you might be too late.” The district attorney’s mouth smoothed into a twisted smile under a thick beard as he turned back to continue loading the equipment into the truck.

  Jonah stepped into the DA’s personal space and pressed the shotgun into Pierce’s spine. “I said get on your knees and interlace your hands behind your head.”

  “Are you going to shoot me if I don’t comply, Marshal Watson? You want to, don’t you? You want to save the damsel in distress from the big, bad bomber, but like I said—you’re too late.” Faster than Jonah expected, Pierce Cook spun, slamming his palm against the shotgun to divert the barrel down and to the right. A hard kick from the district attorney landed square in Jonah’s gut, and he fell back into the marshal behind him.

  Both men went down as Pierce Cook disappeared behind the moving truck.

  “Stay on him!” Jonah shoved to his feet. Pumping his legs as fast as he could, he maneuvered around the truck and chased after the fleeing suspect already two rows ahead of him. Heavy breathing and pounding footsteps echoed from behind as he and Cove closed in on their suspect. Pierce wasn’t getting away. That wasn’t how this was going to end. He was going to find Madison alive. He was going to tell her how much of a mistake he’d made. He was going to spend the rest of his life proving he could make her and their son happy without forcing her to give up her independence. “Pierce!”

  Sirens and screeching tires ahead redirected the DA down another row of units.

  Jonah pointed to the row next to him. “Cut him off!”

  Cove branched off to the right to get to Pierce from the other side.

  Jonah’s heart pounded hard in his chest, his legs going numb from the slap of his boots against pavement. He turned down the row where Pierce had disappeared, weapon drawn, and halted short.

  The district attorney stood in the middle of the alley, a large serrated blade pressed to his throat. Pierce Cook’s shoulders rose and fell in shallow waves, but it was the woman standing behind him Jonah couldn’t take his eyes off of. “Marshal, please. Help me.”

  Rosalind Eyler slid the tip of her nose up the length of the district attorney’s neck as though savoring every moment of fear she could wring out of the man under her knife. “Did you really think you could use my blueprints, my name, for your dirty work and not suffer the same as all the rest of them, Pierce? I’ve known men like you my entire life. I’ve killed men like you. You were never going to hold up your end of the deal, and I won’t let you take advantage of one more woman.”

  “Rosalind, put the knife down.” Jonah took aim, but even from a closer position, he still risked hitting the district attorney instead of her. He needed Cook alive to tell them where he’d stashed Madison. There was no other option. “He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison for what he’s done. That’s punishment enough. Put down the knife, or I will pull this trigger.”

  “I believe you.” Rosalind settled bright green eyes on him, her smile wider than he’d ever seen it before, then slid the knife across Pierce Cook’s throat. The DA collapsed out of her grip and slumped to the pavement. “Oops.”

  “No!” Jonah kept his gun on her as he ran toward Pierce.

  A gunshot tore through Rosalind’s shoulder from behind, and she fell forward with the momentum. Dylan Cove jogged into view, gun trained on the fugitive, and kicked the
blade the Rip City Bomber had used out of her reach.

  Jonah holstered his weapon and pressed the heel of his palms against the DA’s throat. Blood trickled up through his fingers as he applied pressure, but the man’s eyes remained distant and unmoving. “Stay with me, Pierce. Tell me where she is, damn it. Tell me!”

  * * *

  MADISON FLINCHED AT the sound of the single gunshot.

  She couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see anything. Was someone out there? Was someone looking for her?

  Jonah. His name pierced through the panic she’d given in to for the last few minutes. She forced herself to take a deep breath to get her heart rate under control. Alone, in the dark, she pulled at her bound wrists and ankles for the hundredth time, but Pierce had done too good of a job ensuring she couldn’t escape. Five minutes. The countdown ticked off second by second, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Nothing she could do to save herself or her baby. Tape sucked the moisture from her mouth.

  Screaming wouldn’t do any good. She’d have to find another way to get someone’s attention. She wasn’t going to die here. She wasn’t going to let the last conversation between her and Jonah stand. He’d asked her to let go of the future she’d worked her entire life to build—to trust him with every ounce of her being that he wouldn’t hurt her—and she’d said no. But now she understood the role fear had played in her life leading her to this exact moment. Fear of relying on someone who’d end up hurting her, fear of being that small, helpless girl she’d left behind. Fear of being unloved and used. Every decision she’d made over the course of her life had been out of fear.

  Until Jonah. Where the past had filled her with hollowness and isolation all these years, he’d brought light, warmth, commitment. She’d learned to expect the worst of the people who were supposed to care about her, but the emotional, physical and mental neglect had only prepared her to view everyone the same, to distance herself from getting too close. And when he’d asked her to recuse herself from the case, he’d offered nothing but respect, support and space, and it’d scared her. She hadn’t been able to see the ulterior motive—still didn’t—but now she understood. Jonah didn’t have one. He never had.

  And she was tired of letting fear build her future.

  Ankles zip-tied to the frame of the chair, Madison pressed her toes into the floor and tipped forward. Getting oxygen was still hard, her lungs working overtime from the weight of the vest and the tape over her mouth, but she’d do whatever it took to get out of there. The two back legs lifted off the cement. She tensed against the chair. She could do this. She had to do this. Slowly, one inch at a time, she angled her toes out, then in, and crossed the storage unit toward the table, the rest of her body following.

  Four minutes.

  Only the sound of her pounding pulse filled her ears. No more gunshots. No sounds of footsteps telling her someone was coming to save her. She had to save herself. An overly loud thump registered as the back of the chair hit the edge of the table, and she set the chair back on all four feet. She’d made it across the unit, but without something to cut through the zip ties, she’d still be here when the clock ran out. Her arms ached from the position she’d been tied in, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop her now. What was on the table? Duct tape. Cell phones.

  She’d gotten only a glimpse of the rest before Pierce had shut her inside the darkness. Rosalind Eyler and the district attorney both would’ve needed tools to assemble their devices. Box cutters. She’d noticed the tool before Pierce had locked her inside. That would work, but her hands were still tied. She didn’t have time to try to cut through the zip ties or to try to get one of the cell phones to work. Pressure built in her chest as she read the countdown.

  Three minutes.

  She’d wasted too much time.

  “Come on.” Both words disappeared behind the tape secured across her mouth. She needed someone to know where she was. Noise. She needed to find something to make noise and pray it was loud enough to draw their attention.

  The unit’s walls were built of cinder block, but the rolltop door was presumably steel. Steel could be loud when hit with something hard, but to get to the door she’d have to cross the unit again. She rocked forward onto her toes but miscalculated the angle. Falling forward, Madison slammed onto her right arm with the chair on top of her. Her scream lodged in her mouth as the air crushed from her lungs. Her broken wrist from falling down the incline on the highway burned. She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, and the panic flared. Rawness tore along her throat as sobs took control. Trying to rip her other arm free of the tie, she rocked back and forth against the floor. The chair knocked against the cinder blocks.

  She stilled. The sound could be enough to draw whoever’d shot that gun.

  Two minutes.

  Madison bit back the pain in her arm pinned between the chair and the cement and rocked the frame into the cinder blocks. Once. Twice. She closed her eyes, losing count, as tears streaked across her face. She wouldn’t look at the countdown again. Couldn’t let that be her last memory. She’d think about Jonah instead, about their son, their future. She’d think about how happy they would’ve been if she hadn’t been so afraid of letting go of all the hurt and pain. The tears dried.

  Distorted voices reached through the darkness. Then again.

  Opening her eyes, Madison moaned through the tape. She rocked the chair back into the wall harder, accompanied by her pathetic attempt to shout for help. Metal protested in her ears, then a loud bang right before the rolltop door screamed along the track. Several holes had been punctured through the steel. Fresh air rushed into the unit as two outlines took stock of what was inside.

  She tried to crane her head up, but managed only to strain the muscles in the back of her neck. Another shout for help died at her lips.

  “Maddi!” The largest of the two outlines collapsed at her side and made quick work of the zip ties. Her uninjured hand immediately went to pull the tape from her mouth as Jonah cut through the ties at her ankles, and a surge of warning shot through her. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  She sucked in as much air as she could. “Bomb... Vest. Get out.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you, damn it. Not again.” Cutting her loose from the chair, Jonah pulled her into a sitting position against the wall, his cinnamon-spiced aftershave diving deep into her lungs. He’d come for her. Even after she’d told him she didn’t need him, he’d come for her. “Somebody get that light on. I need to be able to see what I’m doing so I don’t blow us all to hell.”

  The light burst to life overhead, and Madison closed her eyes against the brightness. Someone else was in the unit. A woman. His deputy chief?

  The sound of Velcro tearing filled the space as Jonah exposed the device Pierce had strapped to her chest. “Pierce can’t hurt you anymore. He can’t hurt anyone anymore. Okay? He’s gone.”

  Pierce was dead?

  One minute.

  Her pulse rocketed into dangerous territory. They didn’t have enough time. As much as she hated the idea of the district attorney finishing what he’d started, Madison couldn’t be responsible for bringing two US marshals down with her. “Jonah, you have to go.”

  “Don’t move.” He worked fast, examining each wire running from the cell phone duct-taped to the small plastic container near her chest, then moved on to the next. This was what he’d been trained for. This was what he did best, but not even the most experienced bomb technicians were fireproof. “The bastard added a bunch of dead wires to confuse anyone who might’ve found you in time.”

  “I’ll order everyone back.” Remi’s voice brought Madison’s attention up to the deputy chief angled over Jonah’s shoulder before the marshal called to the growing scene outside the door. “Active explosive! I need everyone to evacuate behind the perimeter. Now!”

  “I can’t cut you out,” Jonah said. “He
’s got the wires running down through the vest.”

  “Jonah, you’re running out of time.” She couldn’t be the reason he died.

  “No, I’m not going to lose you. You’re not dying in here today. Understand?” He locked mesmerizing blue eyes on her, and the entire world fizzled into nothingness. In that moment, there was only the two of them. That was all they needed. Nothing else mattered. He pinched what looked like a blue wire between his index finger and thumb. “Do you trust me?”

  No hesitation this time. No fear. “I’ve always trusted you. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Jonah pulled the wire free from the device. The countdown on the LED screen stopped for a moment, then flickered before speeding up to twenty seconds remaining. He flipped open the blade he must’ve used to cut through her zip ties and sliced the Kevlar vest holding the device down the side. He peeled her out and helped her haul the heavy bulk over her head, as she’d done for him back in the ambulance after the courthouse explosion.

  Terror stirred in her gut. “What—”

  “There was no way to disarm it without triggering the final countdown.” He tossed the vest toward the back of the room, latched onto her hand with his and pulled her out of the storage unit. Turning back briefly, he pulled the rolltop door shut. A soft beeping reached under the space between the door and the cement as they ran for safety. He waved toward the marshals standing near the moving truck Pierce Cook had used to abduct her from the highway. “Get back!”

  An ear-deafening explosion thundered through the alleyway from behind.

  Heat seared across her skin as tendrils of flames and hot air raced ahead of her and Jonah. He wrapped his arms around her, protecting her from the sear of the blast. She ducked her head between her hands as chunks of metal and stone rained down on top of them. Debris bounced against asphalt under their feet. He kept her moving ahead of him. Smoke enveloped them in a thick layer of blackness, but he wouldn’t let her stop. Adrenaline drained from her veins as quickly as it’d set in and made every step heavier than the last.