His phone started to ring. He glanced at the screen and his heart leaped with joy.
“It’s Karl!”
A smile broke across Celeste’s face. Her gaze rose to the sky outside. “Thank You, God.”
Thank You, indeed. He shot Karl a quick text telling him he’d call back in a second. Then he stood. “I’ll go take it outside the back door while you go freshen up.”
The emergency exit was right by the washrooms. Plus, the cold air might help snap his head back in the game. Something about being around Celeste made his head spin. She agreed. He left some money on the table to cover the bill, then walked to the back of the diner. He waited until she’d slipped into the ladies’ room, then stepped out the back door and called Karl.
“Karl Adams.”
“Hey, man, you have no idea how good it is to hear the sound of your voice!”
“About as good as I imagine it was to see your face in the hall.” Karl’s voice boomed down the line. “Hunter tells me you got Celeste out safely?”
“Absolutely. We just stopped for food, but you and I have a moment to talk without being overheard. What’s the word?”
“The farmhouse is secured. Three hostiles were taken into custody. There were several minor injuries. Only one casualty.”
“Rod Cormac,” Jonathan supplied.
“Yeah.” Karl let out a sigh. “Stacy is talking to his girlfriend and family now.”
“He was a great marshal.”
“He was the best.”
A long pause spread down the phone as the two friends shared a silent and unspoken moment of grief. He was sure Karl was silently praying.
The easy way Karl talked about God jarred him somehow. He envied it. He missed the way his family had talked about God so easily around the farm, as if God really was, as his mamm put it, “the unseen guest at every meal.” He admired the way Celeste kept turning to God for help and fully believed He had a plan for her life.
I miss talking to You, Gott. But I don’t even know how to come back to You.
Karl went back to briefing him, this time in more detail and flavor. Jonathan held tight and listened. Only two hostiles in combat gear had breached the safe house. One, a career criminal who was already well-known to the feds, had been arrested, and one had escaped the net. Two more criminals, much younger and far less experienced, were picked up on the road shortly afterward. They’d been identified from the description Jonathan had given Hunter. Footage of Celeste had turned up on one of their phones. Karl had no way of knowing whether it was already uploaded to the dark web.
“I want to give you a heads-up,” Karl said. “Chief Deputy Hunter has told Stacy and I to be prepared for a potentially quick assignment change. We were supposed to be doing a prisoner escort in Philadelphia tomorrow. But Hunter has said there’s a possibility she might pull either Stacy or I to take over escorting Celeste. It’s just a precaution. In case you’ve been identified. It happens to the best of us.”
“I know,” Jonathan said. He ran his hand over his beard. As much as something inside him hated the thought of Celeste being transferred to another marshal, he wasn’t surprised.
“Is it true Celeste thought she saw Dexter Thomes in the safe house kitchen?” Karl asked.
“It’s true that’s what she thought she saw. She calls him Doppel-Dex. She also thought a remote-control helicopter was watching us when we stopped to switch trucks. I don’t know what to think.” He glanced back. Celeste was standing inside the diner with her back to him. He shifted his gaze. His heart stopped. She was scrolling through data on some kind of small electronic device. What was she thinking? “I gotta go. I’ll call you back.”
He hung up, slammed the phone into his pocket and yanked the door open. Celeste spin toward him. He snatched the device from her with one hand. The other hand grabbed hers and pulled her close enough that they could whisper. “What do you think you’re doing?”
SIX
Conflicting emotions surged through him. Where had she gotten an electronic device? Yes, she’d told him she had a tablet with some of Dexter’s data on it, but she’d also told him it was completely dead. How had she been foolish enough to use an electronic device when her life was in jeopardy and she was being hunted online by people who wanted to take her life? Why had he trusted her out of his sight for so long? What was it about her that had made him drop his guard like that and think he could trust her?
Yet, as he opened his mouth, it went dry, and all the questions that filled his mind died on his lips. Finding no words to say, he stood there, with his hand holding hers and her wide eyes looking up into his. Her lips were parted, half gasping and half panting in shock. Her body was so close anybody looking on would’ve been forgiven for thinking he’d spun her around to kiss her. He let go of her hand and looked up, breaking their gaze. No one else in the diner had seemed to notice their pirouette and he was thankful for that. He looked down at the device in his hand. Letters and numbers filled the screen. “What is this?”
“I told you, I had a tablet full of data that I downloaded from Dexter before he blew up my apartment.” Her voice barely rose about whisper, but the frustration of her tone was unmistakable.
“You told me it was dead.”
“I borrowed a charger from the mother of the device-addicted children,” she said. “Don’t worry. Like I told you, this device is perfectly safe. It can’t connect to the internet. And I think I’m on to something with my hunch about number patterns. I think Dexter tried to track down someone specific. I think if I could just figure out who he was looking for, where he was looking for them, and why, I might have a lead on finding where he hid the money.”
“How can you possibly know that no one is using this device to track you?”
“Because I know how electronic devices and the internet works.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not!” Her voice rose for a moment. Then she seemed to catch herself and lowered her tone. “It’s extremely unlikely. Extremely. But if there’s even the possibility I could find that stolen money, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Well, I’m not, and it’s my job to keep you safe.”
The teenage boy at the table glanced their way, and even though Jonathan was confident he wasn’t able to overhear them, he still held up a hand warning to Celeste to stop talking. Then Jonathan moved closer and dipped his head slightly. “Let’s take this outside.”
She pressed her lips together. He could tell there was more she wanted to say. Well, she’d have to wait. Clearly, something about her had distracted him so much he’d fallen off the ball. He turned the electronic device over in his hand. It was the size of the notebook that the waitress had taken his order on. He frowned and turned it around looking for a switch to turn it off. As if reading his mind, Celeste reached over, slid her finger along the side, her hand brushing against his for a fleeting moment as she pushed a button so tiny he couldn’t even see it. The power light turned off.
“Thank you,” he said. He slid it into his inside jacket pocket. He reached down, unplugged the cord from the wall and rolled it between his fingers. His hand rested on Celeste’s back just between the shoulder blades as they walked to the family, returned the charging cable with an exchange of polite smiles and then headed out the front door.
They’d gotten about five paces away from the door when Celeste stopped and turned toward him. Her arms crossed. “So why is it okay for you to take the risk of us stopping at a roadside diner, but it’s not all right for me to take the risk of combing data on an off-line electronic device?”
Because it’s my job to determine which risks to take. I’m the experienced US marshal entrusted with your safety, and you’re the witness.
The answer snapped to the front of his tongue, but he held it back and instead took a deep breath. Celeste wasn’t just any other w
itness. There was something special about her that he couldn’t put into words.
“You’re right,” he said. “I took a risk in stopping here for food. Because despite what happened at the farmhouse, I’m still working on the presumption that my goal is to help you learn to live an independent life. There’s a world of difference between walking into an out-of-the-way roadside diner and using an electronic device to track down a dark web hacker’s stolen money. Especially since I’m guessing the feds already have the exact same data you have.”
“They don’t know Dexter like I do,” Celeste said. “He wasn’t even on their radar.”
He scanned the parking lot. A small red car was parked near the front entrance with the hood up. It was only a few feet away from his truck. A couple seemed to be arguing over it. Looked like someone was having car trouble. He steered Celeste away from them and picked a safe middle ground where they couldn’t be overheard by either the people taking care of the car or anyone coming out of the diner.
“But what if no one ever finds the money?” she pressed. “Dexter Thomes stole millions of dollars.”
“From a bank,” he said.
“No, from people who deposited money in the bank,” she countered. “From parents, families, students, people living on their own and the elderly. He dipped his greedy hands into thousands of bank accounts.”
She stepped toward him until they were almost toe-to-toe. He reached out, his gloved hand hovering just inches from her shoulder. Then he pulled back. Something weird seemed to happen whenever he even barely brushed against her. Instead, he crossed his arms across his chest. It was a stance and a gesture that usually intimated people and made them step back. Instead, she took another step forward, closing the remaining gap between them until she was almost stepping on his toes. “What’s your point?”
“That I need to finish the job I started. I found the trail of bread crumbs. I didn’t find the money. If I found the money and traced it back to him, they might not even need me to testify at trial. All this would be over. And all those people’s lives would be changed.”
“I get it,” he said. “I really do. I just don’t know what we can do about it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of movement behind them. It seemed the woman from the duo having car problems was coming toward them.
“Hey!” a female voice called. “You guys couldn’t give us a jump, could you? I think the battery’s dead.”
He turned around, feeling Celeste one breath behind him. Normally the possibility that this obscure pair at a random country road diner would have anything to do with the witness he was protecting would’ve barely been a fleeting thought in his mind. It was just too unlikely. Yet, so much of what had happened since Celeste had been placed in his care made so little sense at all. The woman was younger than he’d realized at first glance. She was barely more than eighteen, with dark curly hair and baggy jacket. She looked more like the kind of person he’d expect to find trying to sell individual joints or small amounts of drugs outside a club than working for the world’s top computer hacker. The scowling man standing beside the car looked at least ten or fifteen years older, with a large nose that had once been broken and scar on his neck from what Jonathan guessed was more likely a broken bottle than a knife. Whatever kind of relationship they were in, it probably wasn’t a positive one.
“Sure thing.” He smiled, putting a bit of extra drawl into his voice and dropping his law enforcement stance and posture in an instant. He glanced back at Celeste. “Honey, I’m just going to grab my jumper cables from my truck and give these two a boost. Then we’re going to get back on the road.”
While I make careful note of both these two, and then run them and their car through the system as soon as we hit the road.
The look of utter relief that flooded over the young woman’s face was so palpable it made his senses tense up even more. Okay, whoever she was she was definitely in trouble. She was also walking back to the car.
“Good news, Fisher!” she called. “This nice man is going to give us a boost!”
The man turned. A grimace crossed his face and his lips contorted into what Jonathan could tell was supposed to look like a grin. “Well, that’s mighty kind of you.”
Jonathan knew his own fake smile was a whole lot more realistic than this man’s, but still he could feel his jaw tighten as his gaze swept over Fisher’s form. Everything about him smelled trouble.
“Oh, no trouble at all,” he said. “Just let me get my cables and—”
The soft yelp of fear and pain and danger that slipped from Celeste’s lips was enough to make his own words stop in an instant and every nerve in his body leap to attention. He spun.
The young woman had pressed a handgun into Celeste’s side.
SEVEN
It only took a fraction of a second’s glance back to the sneering man to confirm what Jonathan’s gut already knew. He’d pulled a gun, as well. And I apparently totally underestimated the resources Dexter Thomes has and the lengths he will go to in order to hurt Celeste. Two criminals, two guns, Celeste’s life in the balance—and he was trapped in the middle. He let his eyes linger on Celeste’s, hoping she was praying and that God was listening to her prayers. Then he glanced at the girl holding her at gunpoint. She was shaking like a rabbit. Fisher noticed it, too.
“Gina!” Fisher snapped. “Wake up! Put her in the car and don’t let her move or I’ll kill ya when we’re done with her.”
Gina hesitated. Her hand shook so hard he knew that if he spooked her she’d probably shoot Celeste by mistake. And Jonathan didn’t doubt she was terrified enough of Fisher that she’d probably kill Celeste to save herself. Gina’s fear shook something inside Jonathan. The criminals who’d breached the farmhouse had been well armed and focused. The kidnappers with the cell phone camera had been brash and arrogant. These two were a whole different breed of criminal. Edgy and not well armed, with more than a whiff of desperation. The worst part was that he had no idea how they’d found them. His truck was clean of tracking devices, and even if Celeste had been right about that toy helicopter taking pictures of his truck, how would it have possibly found them all the way out here?
“Gina!” Fisher barked. “Move! Now!”
How long would they have until someone in the diner noticed? How soon until someone came out the back door? How soon until someone new pulled in? What would happen if Gina and Fisher opened fire?
Oh Gott, I don’t know what to pray. I don’t know if You’re listening. Just please, help. For so long I’ve felt like the fact I walked away from my family and Amish life meant I’ve lost any right to call out to You for help. But, please, don’t punish Celeste for my mistakes. Save her, Lord. Help me save her.
Fisher was snarling now, barking orders at Gina in a stream of swear words and threats. Jonathan blocked them out. Instead, his eyes focused on Celeste. She’d told him that Doppel-Dex had made it very clear he wanted her taken alive. He hoped that was true.
“Do what he says,” Jonathan told Celeste. “Just go with her to the car. Trust me.”
Because I’m going to take out Fisher, and then I’m going to come rescue you. But Gina needs to calm down first before she accidentally kills you, and I need you out of the line of fire.
He didn’t know what he expected to see in her face in that moment. But through the fear that filled her eyes, he could see something deeper, something he hadn’t been able to detect back in the darkened farmhouse safe house, but which now shone clear and vibrant in the light of day—determination. She was a fighter. She was determined to stay alive. And it strengthened his resolve not to let her down.
“Get down!” Fisher snapped. “Or I’ll shoot!”
Sure thing. Jonathan crouched low, raised his hands and gritted his teeth. Through his peripheral vision he watched Gina and Celeste walk around to the side of the car.
; “Hey, we don’t want any trouble!” Jonathan called. “Just tell me your price and maybe we can work something out.”
“You want to know my price? Fifty thousand.” Fisher aimed the gun between Jonathan’s eyes. “I want all 50K and not a penny less.”
50K? As in fifty thousand dollars? Gina opened the back door.
“Really? Wow, that’s a lot of money,” Jonathan yelled. Come on, man, focus on me. Don’t look at the women. “Who’s willing to pay that much for her? How do you expect to collect?”
Gina’s hands shook as she nudged Celeste in the side with the gun. They climbed into the car.
“Shut up!” Fisher shouted. “Kneel down and put your hands on the top of your head!”
Jonathan stayed crouched and did none of the above.
“Look, let me give you a hot tip. Dexter Thomes, aka Poindexter, is still locked away behind bars. So whoever you think is going to pay you isn’t him.”
The man laughed. It wasn’t pretty. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
Yup. An evil and deadly one, who wasn’t about to tell me anything I needed to know.
Gina climbed into the car and shut the door. Jonathan charged and threw himself at Fisher. He stayed low, letting Fisher get a round off that flew over his right shoulder. Then, with one hand, he grabbed the gunman’s wrist and yanked the gun up over his head. With the other he leveled a strong blow to Fisher’s face. The gun flew from Fisher’s grasp as the man crumpled against the hood, unconscious but breathing.
Jonathan glanced up at the faces of the two women sitting in the back seat of the car. Two pairs of wide eyes met his through the windshield, one terrified and one trusting.
He shoved Fisher’s gun in his pocket and pulled his own trusty service weapon.
Amish Hideout Page 6