Книга - Safe by the Marshal’s Side

Safe by the Marshal's Side
Shirlee McCoy


HER LIFE IS ON THE LINEFor a year, U.S. Marshal Hunter Davis has protected witness Annie Delacorte and her toddler daughter. But now, someone is determined to stop Annie from testifying against the men who killed her husband. To guard Annie, by-the-book Hunter will have to break a promise to himself: to not get emotionally involved. After all, he already cares more deeply than he ever imagined for the sweet family of two . . . a family he’ll do anything to keep safe and sound by his side.Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight.







HER LIFE IS ON THE LINE

For a year, U.S. marshal Hunter Davis has protected witness Annie Delacorte and her toddler daughter. But now, someone is determined to stop Annie from testifying against the men who killed her husband. To guard Annie, by-the-book Hunter will have to break a promise to himself: to not get emotionally involved. After all, he already cares more deeply than he ever imagined for the sweet family of two…a family he’ll do anything to keep safe and sound by his side.

Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight


“I’m taking this situation very seriously,” Hunter said.

“The whole team is,” he continued. “We’ll figure out how you were found and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Annie wanted to believe him, but nothing had happened the way it was supposed to in the past year. She blinked back tears.

A new year. No more tears over things she couldn’t change. She was going to make her life what she wanted it to be. What she thought God wanted it to be.

“I won’t let anything happen to your baby. I promise,” Hunter said.

Please keep your promise, Hunter.

* * *

WITNESS PROTECTION: Hiding in plain sight

Safe by the Marshal’s Side—Shirlee McCoy, January 2014


SHIRLEE McCOY

has always loved making up stories. As a child, she daydreamed elaborate tales in which she was the heroine—gutsy, strong and invincible. Though she soon grew out of her superhero fantasies, her love for storytelling never diminished. She knew early that she wanted to write inspirational fiction, and she began writing her first novel when she was a teenager. Still, it wasn’t until her third son was born that she truly began pursuing her dream of being published. Three years later, she sold her first book. Now a busy mother of five, Shirlee is a homeschooling mom by day and an inspirational author by night. She and her husband and children live in the Pacific Northwest and share their house with a dog, two cats and a bird. You can visit her website, www.shirleemccoy.com (http://www.shirleemccoy.com), or email her at shirlee@shirleemccoy.com.


Safe by the Marshal’s Side

Shirlee McCoy




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.

—Psalms 27:5


With much thanks to a fantastic group of writers—Margaret Daley, Sharon Dunn, Liz Johnson, Valerie Hansen and Terri Reed.

You ladies are awesome!


Contents

CHAPTER ONE (#u92d7a43c-db53-5dff-a2b7-fd7f49b37b52)

CHAPTER TWO (#uac9b564c-e616-5b79-90b5-be016c1b6241)

CHAPTER THREE (#ud9de8bb9-87c6-512c-9231-731e2a4f4fbb)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u21078f27-df87-53c5-ac21-5ff3d806df15)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u3c1a68c5-6a7f-550a-ba87-6364acb23961)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

DEAR READER (#litres_trial_promo)

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION (#litres_trial_promo)

EXCERPT (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE

“Three, two, one. Happy New Year to me,” Annie Duncan muttered as she flicked off the television. 12:00 a.m. on the first day of the New Year. She hoped this year would be better than the last one had been.

“At least it can’t be any worse,” she sighed as she walked down the hallway that led to the room she shared with her daughter. Sophia could have had her own bedroom, but Annie wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

She eased the door open and stepped into the room. The house was older than the one they’d had during the year they’d spent in Milwaukee, the wood floor creaky and cool under her feet. Sophia lay in her crib, her little toes peeking out from beneath the blanket, the stuffed dog that Joe had bought when Annie learned she was pregnant clutched in her arms.

Sophia was such a beautiful little girl. Joe would have been so excited to see her as a toddler, hear her baby-babble change to words and sentences.

He’d loved their daughter. Annie could still say that, and she still believed it. Even if so many other things in their lives had been lies.

She touched Sophia’s soft baby curls, as the sound of quiet conversation drifted from the room below. She didn’t tense the way she had her first few weeks back in St. Louis. She’d gotten used to having people in the house with her twenty-four hours a day. The U.S. Marshals had made it as easy on her and Sophia as they could. The two-story safe house had been fitted with security systems and monitors, the upper level where she and Sophia spent most of their time perfect for their small family. It felt homey, but it wasn’t home.

Annie wasn’t sure when they would have that again.

Even Christmas hadn’t made the place feel any less like a comfortable hotel, a stopping point on the way to somewhere else. Poor Sophia. Her third Christmas had been a bust. For the most part, the marshals who were guarding them had left them alone. They’d spent the day together. Just the two of them. That was the way it had been since their return to St. Louis. Aside from an occasional trip to meet with prosecuting attorney Steven Antonio, Annie and Sophia hung out together. That was fine and fun for a twenty-six-month-old, but Annie was starting to crave adult company and companionship.

Just a few more weeks and the case against the men who’d murdered her husband would be over. She could go back to Milwaukee or head to some new town, some new adventure. The lead marshal working her case had assured her that she’d be safe once the trial was over. She trusted Hunter Davis. He’d helped her through the tough times after Joe’s murder, traveled with her from her hometown of St. Louis to Milwaukee to ease her transition into her new life.

Of course, she’d trusted Joe, too, and look where that had gotten her.

One way or another, she was going to follow through on her agreement to testify against Luke Saunders and John Fiske. She owed it to Joe, she owed it to the marshals who’d been protecting her, but mostly she owed it to Sophia. Someday, she was going to ask about her father. Annie wanted to be able to say she’d done everything possible to make sure his murderers were put in jail.

There were other things she wouldn’t say until Sophia was much older, things that had surprised Annie, upset her, made her question everything she’d believed about her husband.

“He was a good guy with a problem,” she whispered, but saying it out loud couldn’t make it true. Sometimes she wondered if he really had been a good guy or if she’d just been so in love that she’d been blinded to what lay in the depths of his heart.

She walked to the window that overlooked the backyard. Snow had fallen earlier in the day, just a light dusting that she would have loved to bring Sophia out in. Hunter had refused to allow it. He was one of the most stubborn men Annie had ever met. Emotionless and by the book, he loved to tell her how things were going to be. She always did what he said because she couldn’t risk Sophia’s life and he seemed to know how to protect it.

She leaned her forehead against the cold glass, wishing she dared go against Hunter’s order to stay inside at all times. A little fresh air would be nice. She was too much of a chicken to risk it, though.

She hadn’t always been afraid.

As a matter of fact, she used to think her life was going to be wonderful. She’d married her high school sweetheart, had a baby, planned to return to her preschool teaching job when Sophia was old enough to attend. Money had been tight, but that hadn’t bothered her. She’d been happy, excited to see what life would bring.

Now...

She glanced at Sophia, her stomach churning with anxiety. She just wanted to feel safe again and to believe that her daughter was safe.

“Please, Lord, don’t let anything happen to her,” she prayed as she turned back to the window.

There was nothing to look at. Just the wide expanse of the yard. The landscaping was basic—grass and a few low shrubs. A small swing set stood in the far corner of the yard. In the month that they’d been there, Sophia hadn’t been allowed to toddle around in the grass or sit in the baby swing.

Guilt settled like a heavy weight on Annie’s shoulders. All she’d ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. She’d spent her childhood dreaming of having a houseful of kids. Joe hadn’t been sure he’d wanted any, but he’d finally agreed that one or two would be nice.

After Sophia’s birth, he’d said that being a father was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Her eyes filled at the memory, her chest tight with grief. Even after learning about his lies, she missed Joe.

Clouds drifted across the moon, shrouding the yard in deeper darkness. A six-foot fence surrounded the property, the houses to either side well lit. Annie imagined friends and families gathered together to greet the New Year, and she felt more alone than ever.

She hadn’t spoken to her parents in over a year, hadn’t seen any of her friends in that same amount of time. She’d spent a month in hiding in a little house in St. Louis not far from where she’d grown up, and she hadn’t been allowed to let anyone she loved know it. She was tired and bored out of her mind, ready to break free, do something fun, be with people who cared about her.

“Stop it,” she muttered. “Things could be a lot worse.”

As if her words had conjured trouble, a dark shadow rose above the fence. She blinked, sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her. The shadow remained just at the corner of the fence where the safe-house yard butted up against the neighbors’ yards. Head, shoulders, arms. A person. A man? A quick furtive movement and something dark rolled into the yard.

Annie’s heart jumped, her body cold with fear. She’d been warned that the men she planned to testify against were dangerous. She’d been told that they’d go to any length necessary to silence her. She’d seen what they’d done to Joe, but she’d been safe for a year, going about her life in Milwaukee without even a hint of danger.

Sophia!

She had to protect her daughter. She ran to the baby, lifting her from the bed in one quick movement. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the blanket and tucked it around her daughter. She raced into the hallway, the sound of feet pounding on stairs echoing through the quiet house.

The door that led from the rooms below into her upstairs apartment burst open, and Hunter Davis appeared. Tall, with broad shoulders and a granite-hard face, he wore dark jeans, a dark T-shirt and a gun holster strapped to his chest.

“We’re leaving,” he said without preamble, taking her arm, his grip hard without being painful.

“Someone was at the back fence,” she told him, even though she was sure he already knew. He wasn’t the kind of guy to miss things.

“That’s why we’re moving you and Sophia out.”

“But—”

“Annie,” he said quietly. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I haven’t lost a witness yet.”

“There’s always a first time for everything.”

“This won’t be it,” he responded with confidence.

“Hunter, I—”

“Trust me, okay? That’ll make it a lot easier for me to do my job.” He led her down the stairway and into the lower-level apartment. Unlike the upstairs, it was sparsely furnished. Just a couch and a couple of chairs, a desk set up with a computer monitor. Two people hovered near it, watching an image on the screen. She knew both of them. U.S. marshals Burke Trier and Joshua McCall. They’d been part of her twenty-four-hour protection for the past month.

“No movement,” Burke said, his dark gaze shooting to Annie. “Whatever he tossed into the yard is still there. The bomb squad will be here in five.”

Hunter was glad to hear it. In the month since Angel Delacorte, now called Annie, had returned to St. Louis, they’d kept her and little Sophia locked away in the safe house. As the lead witness against Luke Saunders and John Fiske, Annie had the potential to bring down an organized crime ring that had been working out of St. Louis for the past several years. The FBI suspected that Saunders and Fiske were low-level members of the group, and the marshals had been asked to get Annie to trial safely. They’d changed her name to Annie Duncan, flown her to Milwaukee and kept her safe there.

So far, things had gone according to the plan Hunter helped create.

It looked as though that was about to change.

“We’re going into the garage,” he said, meeting Annie’s dark blue eyes. “I’ll put Sophia into her car seat. You get into the backseat beside her.”

She didn’t question his orders.

Good. They didn’t have time to argue or to go over the plan again. He took the baby from Annie’s arms. Not really a baby. A toddler with her mother’s thick dark curls and big blue eyes. Pretty and delicate and filled with childish enthusiasm. After a year of working the Delacorte case and a month of spending most of his working hours protecting them, he knew little Sophia well. She didn’t make a sound as he set her into the car seat, just stuck her thumb in her mouth and smiled around it.

“Good girl,” he murmured, snapping the straps into place. Making sure Annie made it to trial and didn’t change her mind about testifying was his job. Simple as that. He’d done the same with dozens of other witnesses.

There was something different about this assignment, though.

Maybe the little girl who went along with it. Maybe her mother. Despite the trouble Annie was in, despite losing her husband, giving up her job, giving up all contact with her family, she’d managed to hold on to a positive attitude. That made it easy to guard her. It had probably also made it easy for her husband to pull the wool over her eyes.

Her vision was clear now, though. After months of investigation, Joe Delacorte’s secret life had been revealed. Joe’s murder hadn’t been random. He hadn’t walked in on a robbery; he’d been killed because he couldn’t pay back what he’d owed. Annie hadn’t said a word when the prosecutor told her how much money her husband had borrowed to feed his gambling addiction.

Hunter was pretty sure she’d cried that night.

Her eyes had been red-rimmed the next day, but she’d still had a smile on her face when she’d greeted him.

She wasn’t smiling now.

She looked terrified, her face stark white.

He almost patted her arm and told her everything would be okay, but he liked to keep some distance between himself and the witnesses he protected. He didn’t want to ever have his judgment and instincts skewed by useless emotion.

He tapped his finger on the steering wheel, waiting impatiently for the all clear. Serena Summers should be outside by now, checking the perimeters, making sure that it was safe to leave.

He frowned at the thought. She’d changed since her brother’s murder. A fellow marshal, Daniel Summers had been killed in the line of duty. A year after his death, they still had no suspects, no useful leads, nothing that would bring his murderer to justice.

“What are we waiting for?” Annie asked quietly, her tone soft and easy, just the way it always was. Whatever stress she was feeling, whatever fear, it wasn’t in her voice.

“Just waiting for an all clear,” he replied, shifting in his seat to look her in the eyes. “You and Sophia won’t be coming back here.”

“I know.”

“I’ll grab some of your things later. What do you want me to get?”

“Sophia’s going to want the stuffed dog her daddy gave her. The little brown one with the floppy ears. It’s on her bed.”

“What about you?”

She shrugged, thick strands of dark hair sliding across her shoulder. “I have a small suitcase in the closet. It’s packed with clothes and baby supplies.”

From what he’d observed in the past month, that was typical of Annie. Organized, prepared. “I’ll make sure to grab it for you.”

“Thanks. Why do you think it’s taking so long for the all clear? Do you think someone is outside waiting for us to leave?” she asked, glancing at the garage door.

“I don’t know, but we’re not going to take any chances.” He kept the answer brief, his body tense and ready for whatever action he needed to take. Drive away or go back into the house—either option would work. As long as it kept Annie and Sophia safe.

His radio crackled, Serena’s voice filling the quiet SUV.

“It’s all clear,” she said. “No sign of trouble out front.”

“We’re on our way. You’re following us to the next place?” He didn’t give any indication of where they were going, didn’t want to take a chance that someone had somehow tapped into their conversation.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Serena said.

He stabbed at the garage door opener and pulled out of the garage. Darkness pressed in on the SUV windows, the trees and grass white with ice. It was the first morning of the New Year, the streetlights pouring soft yellow light onto the road and the ice-coated foliage. It would have been beautiful if Hunter hadn’t been so convinced that danger was lurking just out of sight. He could feel it, his skin tight with adrenaline, his senses alive. Every shadow, every swaying branch or rustling leaf hinted at trouble.

Across the street, headlights flashed. Serena signaling from her unmarked car. They’d worked as a team before. Despite her grief and anger over Daniel’s death, Hunter trusted Serena to do her job and do it well.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, met Annie’s eyes.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, because he thought she needed the reassurance.

She nodded.

She probably didn’t believe him. He couldn’t blame her. She’d been promised that she’d be safe in St. Louis, told that she wouldn’t be found, that she and her daughter had nothing to fear. He’d said all those things to her on the plane ride back from Milwaukee. They should have been true.

Someone had found Annie, though.

Who?

How?

That was the better question.

No one but marshals working the case knew where the safe house was located. Hunter had gone to incredible lengths to make sure they weren’t followed when he brought Annie to her appointments with prosecuting attorneys. Long rides out into the country and back, circuitous routes through the heart of downtown—all of it designed to throw off a tail or to spot one.

There’d been no indication that they’d been followed, but the safe house had been compromised. Logical reason dictated that someone had leaked the information, but Hunter wanted to think anything other than that.

Too bad he couldn’t.

He rubbed the back of his neck, glad that Annie was keeping her thoughts to herself. It was probably tempting to throw accusations. After all, she was doing the feds a favor by testifying. She’d been promised a lot of things that had made Hunter cringe. Things that could never really be promised—a new life, a new home, a chance to put the past behind her and to put her husband’s killers in jail.

All Hunter had promised was that he’d keep her safe.

He intended to do that.

Nothing and no one was going to keep that from happening.


TWO

One hour and five minutes.

That was how long Annie had been sitting silently in the back of Hunter’s SUV. Sophia had drifted off to sleep minutes after the ride began. Annie wished she could fall asleep as easily. She was exhausted, but too wound up and scared to close her eyes.

Hunter had said everything would be okay, but it didn’t feel okay. It felt as if she was running away again, killers on her trail.

An image flashed through her head—blood on old linoleum. Joe gasping for breath. She thought she could smell the sharp scent of gunfire in the air.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Anything to stop the memories.

“Another safe house,” Hunter responded tersely. He’d been on his radio twice since they’d left the safe house. Neither conversation had made him happy. Not enough information to go on. That was what he’d told her when she’d asked for an update on what had been thrown into the safe-house yard.

That hadn’t surprised her. In the time that she’d known him, he’d proved to be a man of few words. Usually that didn’t bother her. Live and let live. That was the way her parents had raised her. Be kind, be patient, show love. Those had been the tenets of their faith, and they were the keystones of Annie’s, too.

Right at that moment, though, she was out of patience with Hunter. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s better if you don’t know the address.”

That seemed to be his argument for everything. It’s better if you stay inside. It’s better if you don’t call your family. It’s better if you sit in the back of my car and be quiet and let me figure everything out.

“It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone where we’re going.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me. I’m an adult. I have a child. I think I have the right to know.”

“You picked a bad night to assert yourself, Annie.”

“The way I see it, I should have asserted myself a long time ago,” she replied. She’d spent a year going by a new name, living as a different person and doing absolutely everything Hunter had told her to do. She hadn’t questioned him because she’d wanted to protect Sophia.

The baby. Don’t let anything happen to the baby.

Joe had gasped those words with his last breath. Late at night, when it was quiet and dark, they’d echo in Annie’s head until she had to get up and touch Sophia’s cheek, make sure that she was okay.

“Only you can decide that,” he said calmly. “But for the record, I’m following protocol. That’s what’s kept you safe for a year.”

“You’re not the only one who wants to keep me safe, Hunter. I have a vested interest in it, too. I have a baby who needs me. I have to make sure I’m around for her.”

“She’s not really a baby anymore, is she?” he asked. “A couple of days ago, she said my name. Clear as day.”

He was trying to distract her. A new move for Hunter. He usually stuck to facts and figures and orders. Maybe he sensed how close to the edge of panic she was.

Her parents had told her not to testify.

They’d begged her to move to a new town, stay away from St. Louis and forget what she’d seen. They’d been afraid that if she agreed to testify, she’d end up like Joe. At the time, Annie had thought that Joe had been an innocent bystander, a guy who’d gotten in the way of a robbery and been killed because of it. She’d wanted nothing more than to see his killers thrown in jail, so she’d refused her parents’ advice.

She’d received a lot of new information since then, but she still wanted the men who’d killed her husband to pay for their crimes.

“Someone found me at the safe house, Hunter,” she finally said. “Talking about Sophia won’t change that.”

“I know, but I thought it might help you relax.” He glanced into the rearview mirror, offering a rare smile. It changed his face, made him less austere and more approachable.

“It’s hard to relax when someone wants me dead.”

“We don’t know that there’s a price on your head.”

“But you think that Saunders and Fiske want to keep me from testifying against them. You told me that if they killed Joe, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.” She’d believed him because she’d seen the look in Luke Saunders’s eyes after he’d shot Joe. Triumph. Excitement. Just thinking about it made her stomach churn.

“Unless they’ve been able to arrange for the hit from their prison cells, what happened tonight could just be—”

“I saw the person at the back fence. I know something was tossed into the yard. Don’t try to tell me that it was some New Year’s reveler. I’m not going to believe it.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Annie,” he said quietly, and she thought that he probably meant it.

But Joe had said the same thing so many times, she’d almost stopped hearing it. He’d said it when checks bounced or electricity bills weren’t paid. He’d said it when she’d asked why he was home late from work or why their money always seemed to disappear.

She’d believed every lie he’d told her.

She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Not with anyone. Even a guy who seemed to be honorable.

“Everyone lies sometimes,” she responded. “And you getting me to relax isn’t a solution to our problem.”

“Trust me, I know that. I’m taking this situation very seriously. The whole team is. We’ll figure out how you were found, and we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She wanted to believe him, but nothing had happened the way it was supposed to in the past year. She blinked back tears. She’d cried an ocean of them since Joe’s death. Every time she thought she was cried out, more tears came.

Not this time, though.

A new year. A new beginning. No more tears over things she couldn’t change. She was going to take control, make her life what she wanted it to be. What she thought God wanted it to be.

Hunter turned down a well-lit street lined with tall apartment buildings. Not as quiet as the street the safe house had been on. Lights shone from most of the apartment windows and a few people milled around in a small courtyard between two buildings.

Hunter bypassed the taller apartment complexes and pulled into the parking garage of a four-story building that sat on a small corner lot. Several cars filled spaces in the dark enclave. He parked near a door, shifting in his seat and looking straight into Annie’s eyes.

He had the darkest eyes she’d ever seen, his eyelashes thick and just as dark. She didn’t know why she was noticing. Maybe because it was easier than thinking about getting out of the SUV with Sophia, walking through the parking garage and into the building, the hot breath of danger still on her neck.

“What are we doing?” she whispered as if someone outside the SUV might hear.

“Waiting for Marshal Summers.”

Annie knew the woman. She’d been at the safe house several times in the past month, her dark hair pulled back, her brown eyes kind. They hadn’t spoken much. Just a few hellos and goodbyes. Not enough to get to know her well.

A black sedan pulled into the space beside them, and Serena Summers got out. All business in dark slacks and a heavy coat, she opened Annie’s door and gestured for her to get out. “Let’s go. I don’t know about you, but I’ll feel a lot better once you’re inside that building.”

“I need to get Sophia.” She reached for the car-seat buckle, but Hunter was already opening the door on Sophia’s side.

“I’ll get her. You go with Serena.”

“But—”

“I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise,” he said.

Don’t promise me anything, she wanted to say.

But he was already unbuckling Sophia.

Arguing out in the open where anyone could see her seemed even more foolish than trusting him to take care of Sophia. Besides, she might have learned hard lessons about trust from her marriage, but she knew Hunter would do everything he could to protect Sophia. She just hoped it was enough.

She got out of the SUV and hurried into the building with Serena. The place was quiet, any tenants tucked behind closed doors. Two elevators stood on the far wall of a brightly lit foyer. Serena led her there, sliding a card into a slot next to one of the doors, her foot tapping as she waited for it to open.

As soon as it did, she urged Annie in, holding the door open as Hunter hurried in behind them. Sophia snuggled in his arms, her head against his shoulder, her thumb in her mouth. She smiled sleepily as she saw Annie.

“Momma, hold me!” she said, her little arms reaching for Annie.

Annie took her from Hunter’s arms, loving the solid weight of her. She didn’t think she’d really known the depth of God’s love for her until Sophia came along.

“Where’s we going?” Sophia asked, pressing her hand to Annie’s cheek and looking into her eyes.

Joe would have been so excited to hear her talk. He’d been longing for the day when she would say more than Dada, Momma and the few other words she’d perfected in the months before he was killed. Now she could, and he was gone, undone by his gambling addiction, murdered by men he’d owed money to.

Her throat tightened at the thought, the tears she’d decided not to shed burning the backs of her eyes.

“A new house,” she responded, her voice thick and watery.

The elevator doors opened, and Hunter took her elbow, leading her into a wide corridor. His fingers seemed to burn through her long-sleeved T-shirt, the feeling so surprising, she shrugged away.

Hunter let Annie go. There was no need to be overly protective. The five apartments on this floor were empty, each one secretly rented by the U.S. Marshals. It was easier that way. No danger of tenants seeing a high-profile witness and leaking the news to the press. No need to do background checks on people who rented the apartments.

Serena used her key to open the door at the end of the hall. The place hadn’t been used in over a year. There’d be a layer of dust on everything and an air of neglect that couldn’t be helped. He knew Annie wouldn’t complain. She never did. He still wished they’d had time to make the apartment a little more kid-friendly. Some toys. Safety covers on outlets. A crib.

He frowned.

They’d need to improvise for the night. Tomorrow, he’d buy one of those portable cribs his sister used for her son.

“Here we are,” Serena announced as she flicked on a light. “Home sweet home until the trial.”

It didn’t really look like a home. Just a couch and a coffee table. No throw rug on the wood floor. No pictures on the wall. A small galley kitchen connected to the living area, the appliances stainless steel, the cupboards white. It was fancier than the little house Annie had lived in before entering witness protection. Hunter knew that for a fact. He’d seen pictures of the crime scene. The kitchen with its mustard-colored appliances and peeling linoleum floor. Thanks to her husband, Annie hadn’t had much to brag about.

Hunter didn’t think she was the kind of person who cared. Still, if he ever got married, he’d want to do a lot better for his family than a run-down house in a questionable neighborhood. He knew that wasn’t possible for some people, but Joe Delacorte had made enough money to provide for his family. He’d just preferred to spend it gambling.

“The place could use a little cleaning,” Serena said, running her finger through a layer of dust on the granite counter that separated the living room from the kitchen. “Sorry, Annie. I didn’t have enough notice to get it done.”

“It’s okay.” Annie set Sophia down, smiling a little as her daughter toddled across the room. “But, unless this place is outfitted for a toddler, I’m going to need a couple of things before morning.”

“Like?” Serena pulled out a small notebook. Obviously, she was ready to make a list and head out to find whatever was needed. He could have told her exactly what Annie would ask for. Diapers, baby wipes, apple juice and some sort of toasted oat cereal for Sophia to snack on. Nothing for herself.

Hunter walked down a narrow hall and opened the first door to the left. A master bedroom with an attached bathroom, it had a wide window that looked out over an alley. A queen-size bed sat against one wall. A dresser stood in front of another. He flicked on the light in the bathroom, ran the water in the sink and tub just to make sure everything was in working order.

There were towels in a small linen closet. Soap. Shampoo. None of it for babies.

“Hey, Hunter!” Serena called. “I’m going to see if I can round up some supplies. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“It might be difficult to find a place open, but don’t go back to the other location. We don’t want to clutter the scene,” he responded as he walked back into the living room.

Annie had settled onto the floor, Sophia spinning in circles beside her. The little girl’s giggles made him smile. He’d always loved kids, but his life was too busy, his job too demanding to think about having a family of his own.

“The local Walmart will probably be open. If it’s not, I’ll stop at a convenience store. I can at least get—” Serena consulted her list, stabbing at one of the items. “Diapers, wet wipes and Cheerios. The rest I can pick up tomorrow.”

“I’ll radio you any information that comes in.” He glanced at his watch. So far, there’d been little to go on. The bomb squad had arrived at the safe house within minutes and converged on a gift-wrapped package that had been found in the yard. No explosives, but the team wasn’t taking any chances. They’d bagged the package and transported it to their forensic lab. It would be opened there, everything handled in a sterile environment so there’d be no risk of contaminating evidence.

Serena walked out of the apartment, and Hunter slid the bolt home. The apartment’s second bedroom was set up with a computer that was hooked into the building’s security system. He could monitor the exterior of the building from there. They hadn’t been followed. He was sure of that, but it didn’t give him any peace.

Annie had been found once. There was no reason to think she wouldn’t be found again.

“I’ve got some work to do. If you need anything, let me know,” he said. He sounded cold and uncaring. He knew it. It wasn’t the way he meant to come off, but years of following the rules, of shoving his emotions down so that he could do his job effectively had taken their toll.

Another good reason to not pursue the kind of relationship that led to love and marriage. A few dates a year with nice women who were as career-driven as he was had been enough for so many years he’d lost track.

Somehow, though, every year when Christmas and the New Year rolled around, he started thinking about having more, about what his life would be like if he’d made different decisions and chosen a different path.

Too much time with his sister Carrie and her family, that was the problem. She and her husband, Mitch, were happy, their four children thriving. During the holidays, their house was filled with the kind of joy that washed over everyone who entered.

Yeah. It made him want more than the house he shared with coworker Burke Trier, but that didn’t mean he could have it. God would have to drop a very special woman into his life for things to change. He knew that from watching his parents. His father had been a trauma surgeon, his life devoted to his career. His mother had been sad, then frustrated, then, ultimately, resentful. No way did Hunter want to hurt a woman the way his father had unwittingly hurt his mother.

He shrugged off the thought and walked down the hall. He could hear Sophia’s giggles and Annie’s low murmur as he logged in to the security system. They were more distracting than he wanted them to be. As a matter of fact, if he’d let himself, he could have happily gone back into the living room and spent a little time with the young widow and her child. The two had been through a lot, and they deserved to feel secure and cared for.

His cell phone rang, and he answered.

“Davis speaking.”

“It’s Josh. I’m at the evidence lab. The technicians are finished with the box.”

“What was in it?” He tensed, anxious to hear what had been discovered.

“A doll.”

“A doll?” He glanced at the doorway and saw that Annie was hovering there, Sophia in her arms.

“One without a head. There was a note included. It was addressed to Sophia Delacorte. It said, ‘Don’t tell.’”

“So, our safe house was compromised,” he muttered. He’d known it the moment he’d seen the shadow rise above the fence, but this proved it absolutely.

“Looks that way. We brought in a dog to track the perpetrator but the K-9 team lost the trail a half mile from the safe house.”

“He had a ride.” Had probably spent hours planning things. If he couldn’t get to Annie, he could try to scare her enough to get her to change her mind about testifying.

Hunter gestured for Annie to enter the room as he said goodbye to Josh.

“It’s bad news, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Just someone trying to scare you, Annie. But you don’t need to be afraid.”

“Because you’re going to keep us safe?” She kissed her daughter’s forehead, but her eyes were sharp, her expression harder than he’d ever seen it.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“The same way I have been. Keeping you in the safe house until the trial.”

“It didn’t work that well the last time. What makes you think this time will be any different?”

“It did work. You and Sophia were never in danger,” he tried to reassure her.

“Then why did it feel like we were?” She sounded exasperated and scared.

“This is all routine, Annie. My team is handling it.”

She shrugged, and he could see the doubt in her eyes. She let it drop, though. “You said something about a doll. What were you talking about?”

He explained briefly, watching as she paled. She had a few freckles on her cheeks and nose, and her eyes were deep sapphire-blue. The first time he’d seen her, he’d thought she was about sixteen, she’d looked so young.

She was older than that by a decade, but she still gave off a young and innocent vibe, a naïveté that made him worry more than he probably should about what she would do and where she would go after she finished testifying.

“Sophia’s doll was missing,” she said, her voice tight.

Her comment chased every other thought away. “What doll? When did it go missing?”

“Right after Joe died. I looked everywhere for it when I was packing things to take to Milwaukee. I thought maybe Joe had put it somewhere the night he was...” She shook her head.

“What did the doll look like?”

“It was a rag doll. Nothing expensive. Just all cloth with dark hair and dark eyes. Joe bought it for Sophia’s first birthday. I made a pink dress for it.”

“Sophia was at a sitter’s house the night your husband was killed, wasn’t she?” he asked. He knew the facts, but sometimes revisiting them helped witnesses recall details that they hadn’t before. This was the first he’d heard about a doll, and he wanted to hear more.

“Yes.”

“Could the doll have been left there?”

“The sitter said Sophia didn’t have it with her. I think Joe rushed while he was packing her bag and forgot it. Usually, I was the one...” She pressed her lips together. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”

“How about you let me decide if that’s the case? You usually did what?”

“Packed Sophia’s diaper bag. Joe wasn’t very good at remembering what she needed, but since she wasn’t supposed to be at the sitter’s that night, I didn’t bother.”

“That’s right. You thought she was going to be at home, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “I’m glad she wasn’t, though. Things could have turned out even worse.”

True. But was she glad she’d been lied to?

Was she glad her husband, who was supposed to be caring for their child, had probably been planning to do a little gambling while his wife was away?

A little?

The guy had been knee-deep in debt with no way of getting out of it.

Hunter didn’t mention that.

It would have been like rubbing salt in an open wound.

Besides, Annie was right—if Sophia had been home, she might have been hurt. Or worse. “You’re sure the doll didn’t go with her to the sitter? Maybe with all the trauma—”

“Sophia was crying for it.” She cut him off, her eyes flashing with irritation. “The sitter left a message for Joe asking him to bring it. I didn’t know about the message until months later since the police confiscated our answering machine. There’s a transcript if you’re interested.”

“You’re angry,” he pointed out, and she frowned.

“No, I’m upset. I’m frustrated. I want my life back. I am not angry.”

“Okay,” he agreed.

He’d have been angry. He’d have wanted a little justice, too.

“Sophia is tired.” She touched her daughter’s dark curls. “I’m going to tuck her in for the night.”

She pivoted and walked away, her hair swaying, her body hidden by a layer of faded denim and an oversize Rams sweatshirt. Was it her husband’s?

Not something that concerned Hunter, but he didn’t want to think that Annie was still mourning the man who’d lied to her, stolen from their family and caused her heartache on top of heartache.

“Not your business,” he muttered as he turned back to the security monitor, grabbed his cell phone and dialed Joshua’s number.


THREE

Annie woke with a start, her heart racing, a scream dying in her throat.

Darkness shadowed the furniture and lay deep and thick in the corners of the room. She sat up, her feet touching cool hardwood.

It took a moment to know where she was.

The safe house.

Safe apartment.

Not the kitchen of the little St. Louis rental she and Joe had chosen after their wedding. Not standing with a gun pointed at her head while Joe moaned on the floor, blood seeping from his chest. Night after night, she dreamed of that moment. The split second when the gun had misfired and the man who’d been pointing it at her had run.

Annie shuddered.

The sun would rise in a couple of hours. She’d feel better then, the nightmare fading, her fear fading with it.

She eased off the bed, trying not to disturb Sophia. She could hear her deep, even breathing, knew she was soundly asleep. Not hungry or scared or cold. She was a blessed little girl. Even under the circumstances. Even without a father’s love. Even with the moves and the disruptions, she had more than so many children did.

Annie had tried to keep that in mind during the past year.

She paced to the window, the old wood floor creaking under her feet. Icy rain splattered against the brick facade of the building, cold air drifting in through the single pane glass. She shivered, rubbing her arms, her stomach growling. She hadn’t eaten much the night before.

She thought about going to the kitchen to search for something to eat, but she didn’t want to face Hunter. He’d brought her the baby supplies Serena had managed to buy, asked if she needed anything. She’d told him no, but she had needed something. She’d needed someone to talk to, someone who could take her mind off the nightmare she seemed to be living in.

She hadn’t told him that, of course. She’d just said good-night and closed the door. Otherwise, she might have burst into tears and made a total fool of herself.

Someone knocked on the door, the soft tap barely sounding above the splattering rain.

She opened the door and found herself looking at Hunter’s chest. His very muscular chest.

She blushed, looking up and meeting his dark eyes.

“Did you get the photo of the doll?” She couldn’t think of any other reason for him to knock on her door at three in the morning.

“About an hour ago. I didn’t think it was worth disturbing your sleep, but when I heard the floor creak, I figured you might have woken up.”

“You were right.” She sidled past him and walked out into the hall, her pulse racing, her cheeks still blazing. She’d known Hunter for over a year. For the past month, she’d seen him almost every day. Somehow, she’d never noticed just how masculine he was. Or maybe she had, but she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself.

“You hungry?” Hunter asked, following her as she walked into the living room. “Serena scrounged up some groceries. I’m not sure what there is. We can look around, find something to eat.”

“I’d rather just see the photo.” Although she had to admit, food sounded good.

“There’s no reason why we can’t do both.”

“Except that the sun isn’t even up yet.”

“Should that matter?” he asked, walking into the galley kitchen and opening the refrigerator. He pulled out a package of American cheese and a carton of eggs.

Her stomach growled, and he smiled. The second smile in twenty-four hours. She was sure that was a record.

“I guess when my stomach is growling as loudly as it is, it shouldn’t,” she murmured.

“I’m glad you agree, because I’m starving.”

She laughed a little at that, some of her tension easing away. “You should have eaten.”

“I didn’t want to make a bunch of noise in the kitchen while you were sleeping.”

“You wouldn’t have bothered me.”

“I wasn’t worried about bothering you. I was worried about waking you. Sophia is a deep sleeper. You don’t seem to sleep much at all. At least you don’t on any of the nights when I pull shift.” He cracked several eggs in a bowl and beat them.

It was true. She hadn’t been sleeping much since returning to St. Louis, but she hadn’t realized that Hunter had noticed. As a matter of fact, she’d had the distinct impression that he didn’t pay much attention to anything she and Sophia did. Unless he thought they were going to break a rule. Like the week before Christmas, when he’d cautioned her a half a dozen times, telling her to make sure she didn’t give in to temptation and go shopping for gifts.

She hadn’t actually been tempted. Celebrating Christmas without Joe had seemed too sad, too lonely. She’d been happy to give Hunter some money and a short list of gifts for Sophia.

As far as Christmases went, the last one was the worst she’d ever had.

Next year’s would be better, though.

She’d promised herself that.

“You’re deep in thought,” Hunter said as he poured the eggs into a hot pan and dropped cheese on top of them.

“I’m just tired. Like you said, I haven’t been sleeping much since I came back to St. Louis.”

“Nervous about the trial?”

“Among other things.”

“It’s good that you have a healthy sense of caution but try not to worry too much. It’s not good for you.” He folded the eggs into a fluffy omelet and took a plate from the cupboard. “Are you having nightmares, too? Is that what woke you tonight?”

“Yes,” she admitted. Nine nights out of ten, she woke in a cold sweat, her heart pounding with fear. She hoped that would change once Joe’s murderers were in jail. Knowing both men were off the street for good would go a long way in giving her peace of mind.

“That’s not surprising. You’ve been through some tough times. It’s going to take a while to get over it,” he said as he slid the omelet onto a plate and placed it in front of her. “Not that that makes the nightmares easier to deal with. Go ahead and eat while I make mine. Then I’ll show you the photo of the doll.”

“Okay.” She stabbed at the omelet, surprised by Hunter’s words. That was the most he’d ever said to her. At least, the most that he’d said that didn’t have something to do with the case and her safety.

She hadn’t thought he had it in him to care much about anything. Maybe she’d been wrong.

She took a bite of egg. No salt or pepper. No onions or green peppers, but it tasted good, and she really was hungry.

Hunter sat down across from her, a pile of scrambled eggs on his plate. He’d taken a lot more time with her food than with his own.

“Good?” he asked.

“Very. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my job.”

“Your job is to protect me. Not feed me.”

He eyed her for a moment, his brow furrowed. “My job is to keep you healthy and safe until the trial. ‘Healthy’ means that you eat regular meals so that you don’t fade away to nothing.”

“I don’t think you can call this a regular meal. It’s not breakfast, lunch or dinner,” she pointed out.

“It’s food, and you need it. You didn’t eat breakfast or dinner yesterday.”

“Did you have cameras set up in the safe house?” She sounded as horrified as she felt.

“No,” he said. “I checked in a couple of times yesterday, remember? One bowl in the sink after breakfast. Two plates at lunch. Sophia’s little pink plate in the sink after dinner.”

“I snacked. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Sure it is. Like I said, I have to—”

“Keep me healthy and safe until the trial. I know,” she sighed. “Let’s change the subject, okay?”

He raised one dark brow. “Why?”

“Because I’d rather talk about the doll.” And because thinking about Hunter noticing all the things about her that he’d noticed made her uncomfortable. Even if he had just noticed because it was his job.

His dark eyes speared into hers, and, for a moment, she thought that he was going to press for more.

Finally, he stood. “I printed out a photograph. I’ll get it.”

She didn’t follow him from the room. She needed a couple of minutes to gather her thoughts. She wanted to see the photo, but she didn’t. If it was Sophia’s doll, the men who’d murdered Joe had picked it up. She didn’t remember seeing it in either of their hands, but then, she’d only caught a glimpse of John Fiske. He’d already been heading out the back door as she’d walked into the kitchen. He’d glanced over his shoulder to say something to his partner and had seen her.

Annie had been within seconds of dying that day. If the gun Luke Saunders had been carrying hadn’t malfunctioned, she’d be dead. If Sophia had been home, she’d have been dead, too.

She shuddered, washing Hunter’s empty plate and her own. Anything to keep the memories at bay. They were a heavy burden. One she didn’t think she’d ever be able to lay down. She’d wanted so badly to save Joe. She’d pressed dishcloths to the wound in his chest, trying to sop up the blood. She’d held his hand and touched his cheek and told him he was going to be all right. She hadn’t believed it. He hadn’t, either.

Don’t let anything happen to the baby.

His last words to her, and she’d promised that she wouldn’t.

“Please, Lord, help me keep that promise. For him and for me,” she whispered as she dried the plates and put them away.

The apartment floor creaked, and she knew Hunter was returning. She settled back into a chair, the eggs sitting like lead in the pit of her stomach.

Hunter took the seat across from her, sliding a folder across the table. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight?”

“It’s morning, and I’m sure.”

She might be sure, but her hands were trembling. Hunter noticed that and her pallor. She was ashen, her eyes bright blue in her pale face.

Any other time, any other witness, and Hunter would have been impatient for her to do what needed to be done. He was impatient. He needed her to look at the picture. If the doll had been taken from the Delacorte house, it would be a lot easier to connect the guy who’d used it to intimidate Annie to Saunders and Fiske. One more nail in the guys’ coffins.

Once they found the person responsible.

Yeah. He was impatient, but this was Annie, and she had a softer heart than other witnesses he’d protected. So many of the people Hunter had ushered into witness protection had been criminals hiding from criminals. He hadn’t felt sorry for their troubles because they’d brought them on themselves. Annie was different. Her husband had brought trouble into her life. Her only crime had been in loving a guy who’d borrowed money from the wrong people to feed his gambling addiction.

“It can wait,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, it can’t.”

She flipped open the folder and lifted the photo.

As crime-scene photos went, it was pretty innocuous. Hunter had seen a whole lot worse than the headless doll wearing the pink dress.

Annie dropped the photo as if it was a venomous snake.

“Is it—?” Hunter started to ask.

“I need some water.” She cut him off, pushing away from the table. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it at the sink, her hands shaking so hard water sloshed onto the floor.

She set the glass on the counter and grabbed the dish towel. There were tears in her eyes. He should have ignored them, kept his distance, let her clean up the water and get her emotions in check.

But she looked vulnerable and young, her shoulders slumped as she halfheartedly swiped at the drops of water. She’d given up her family to testify. Given up the friends and support system she’d had before her husband’s murder.

She’d been cautioned against making too many friends in Milwaukee. Until the trial, they wanted her disconnected, free from the temptation to say too much, the danger of slipping and revealing her identity.

She had no one.

Except for him.

For some reason, that mattered to Hunter more than he wanted it to. He told himself it was because he had a younger sister, and that he’d have wanted someone to take care of her emotionally if she’d been in the same situation. He thought the reason might be a lot more complicated than that. Annie was a beautiful woman with a beautiful spirit. That was a difficult combination to resist.

He knelt beside her, took the cloth from her hand. “I’ll clean it up.”

“You’re a U.S. marshal. Not a maid,” she replied, but she scooted away and sat on the floor, her back resting against the cupboards, her arms around her knees.

“I’m whatever I need to be.” He finished wiping up the water and dropped the cloth into the sink.

When she didn’t move, he sat beside her. “Right now, I think you need more than a U.S. marshal. I think you need a friend.”

“Don’t be nice to me, okay?” Her voice broke, and she dropped her head to her knees.

“Aren’t I always nice?” he responded, knowing he wasn’t. Hoping the comment would make her smile.

Or at least keep her from crying.

“Nice?” She turned her head, eyeing him dispassionately. “I suppose some people would call you that.”

“What would you call me?” he asked, more curious than he should be. She was a witness, and her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. Right at that moment, though, it did.

“Efficient.”

“Not hard-nosed or cold, huh?” He’d been called both on a number of occasions. He’d thought the descriptions apt and had taken them as compliments. They wouldn’t be compliments coming from someone like Annie.

“No.”

“That’s your problem, then, Annie. You’re too nice. Instead of getting mad at people who treat you badly—”

“You’ve never treated me badly,” she cut in, and for some reason her continued kindness annoyed him. He’d rather she be like everyone else he’d protected. Convinced that he was as cold as he pretended to be.

“I’ve never treated you kindly, either,” he pointed out. “I’ve done my job. That’s what I get paid for, but you continue to act like I’m doing you a huge favor.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” She stood, and she didn’t look vulnerable or young anymore. She looked angry. “Acting?”

“That wasn’t what I was saying.”

“Then what were you saying, Hunter? That I’m too foolish to know that you’re just here doing what you’ve been paid for? That I’m too stupid to realize that the only reason you’re talking to me right now is because you want answers about the doll and you’re afraid I’m going to have some kind of mental breakdown before I give them to you?” Her voice was soft, her tone light, but there was heat in her gaze.

“That’s not why—”

“You want to know the truth? A year ago, I might have been a fool and I might have been stupid. I trusted people because I wanted to think the best of everyone. After what I learned about Joe, I’m not that naive. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be kind.” She grabbed the folder and thrust it at him. “Yes, it’s Sophia’s doll. That’s the dress I made for it. Check the stitching. I didn’t have any pink thread so I used robin’s-egg blue.”

She spun on her heels and ran from the room.

She didn’t slam the bedroom door, but he heard the quiet snap of the lock.

He could have followed her. It would have been easy enough to unlock the door.

But he had the answer he needed. There was no need for further conversation.

He looked down at the photo of the headless doll. The dress was intricate and well made with puffy sleeves and some sort of gathers on the front. He’d call Joshua, ask him if the thread used on the dress was blue. Just to be sure.

If it was, then the doll had been taken the night of Joe Delacorte’s murder. Once they found the guy who’d tossed it into the safe-house yard, they should be able to connect him to Saunders and Fiske. Neither man would have a chance of escaping justice.

That should have excited Hunter. It was what he lived for. Seeing justice done, knowing he had done his part to make it happen.

It had always been enough before.

Right then, though, it felt empty. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of the chase, victory in sight—none of it seemed nearly as important as making sure that Annie was okay. He hesitated, tempted to unlock Annie’s door and make sure she was. He wouldn’t, though. That would be crossing a line and walking into dangerous territory.

Cold detachment. It had served him well before. It would serve him well again.

He pulled out his cell phone and called Josh again.


FOUR

Annie knew she shouldn’t have gotten so upset, but Hunter’s attitude infuriated her. She was a grown woman with a child. Not some naive little girl. She knew he was doing his job. She didn’t have to be reminded of the fact over and over again.

She was doing her job, too. Staying inside, meeting with the prosecuting attorney, sticking by her agreement to testify against Saunders and Fiske even though she couldn’t help wondering if it was the right thing to do. After all, what did she really owe Joe?

In the years they’d been married, he’d apparently lied to her and stolen. He’d taken money that should have gone to their family and spent it on gambling.

She did owe Sophia, though.

A good life free of the shadows of her father’s mistakes.

She touched Sophia’s soft curls. Hunter had been right about one thing: Annie did need a friend. If she could have, she’d have picked up the phone and called her college roommate. Tabitha had always known the right thing to say and the right way to say it. She’d even tried to tell Annie that Joe wasn’t good enough for her.

Love was blind. Annie hadn’t seen anything but the good in Joe. She didn’t want to call that a mistake. They’d had plenty of good times together, and they’d gotten Sophia from their relationship. Annie would do it all again to have her daughter.

She just wished she’d known. She wished she hadn’t been so blind. Maybe then Joe would still be alive.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and paced across the room. She felt antsy and trapped. No jogs in the park like she’d been able to do in Milwaukee. No trips to playgrounds. No playdates. Nothing to take her mind off the looming trial or the danger that she was in.

It was no wonder she felt irritable and unhappy.

“Annie,” Hunter called, his voice soft.

Go away, she wanted to say, but she’d been raised with better manners than that. Besides, she wanted to prove that she wasn’t the immature little girl he seemed to think she was.

She opened the door and stepped into the hall. “What?”

“I called Joshua. He confirmed that the thread on the doll’s dress was blue.”

“Okay,” she said, because she’d known it would be. She had spent hours making that little dress. She’d wanted Sophia’s first doll to be something prettier than the dollar-store find Joe had brought home.

She felt guilty for thinking that.

He’d tried, and he really had loved Sophia. No matter how much Annie doubted everything else about her husband, she didn’t doubt that.

“The crime lab is going to process the doll,” Hunter continued. “Maybe we’ll get some evidence that will help us find the guy who tossed it into the yard. Once we find him, we should be able to connect him to Fiske and Saunders. There’s no other way he could have gotten the doll aside from one of them.”

“You think that will help at trial?”

“It will be one more mark against them, and when it comes to trial, more is better.”

“I hope you’re right, Hunter. If they aren’t convicted—”

“They will be,” he assured her.

“One thing I’ve learned the past year, Hunter, is that there aren’t any guarantees. So, I’m not going to celebrate until both men are locked away.”

He nodded and leaned his shoulder against the wall. It looked as though he had more to say, but he just watched her silently.

“If that’s all you wanted to say, I’m going back to bed.” She put her hand on the door, not really ready to go pace the room again, but not willing to stand in the hall having a stare-down with Hunter, either.

“I owe you an apology,” he said before she could close the door. “There’s nothing wrong with being kind. As a matter of fact, I could use a little more practice at it.”

“You’ve been perfectly kind,” she conceded, oddly touched by his apology. For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed absolutely sincere and absolutely himself.

“For the sake of my work, sure. But I need to spend a little more time being kind for the sake of kindness.” He flashed a quick smile, reached around her to push the door open. “If you’re going to try to get some more sleep, you’d better do it now. Sophia is usually up at the crack of dawn.”

He walked down the hall and disappeared into the kitchen.

She almost followed him. Hunter was a paradox. By the book and cold as ice, but there was something warm in him. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now that she had, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it.

Maybe that was what happened to young widows. They inevitably started noticing the men in their lives. Eventually, noticing led to falling for someone and they married again. That was what Annie’s mother had said a few days after Joe’s funeral.

“One day, the pain will fade. You’ll find someone else. You’ll fall in love again. You’ll get married and have a dozen children,” Sandy had murmured as she’d hugged Annie.

Annie hadn’t believed her then, and she didn’t want to believe her now. She’d learned too much about the lie her first marriage had been.

“Sorry, Mom. No marriage. No dozen children,” she muttered. “Ever.”

The door next to hers opened, and Serena Summers peered out, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, a few strands escaping and falling across her cheeks. “Everything okay out here?”

“Yes. Fine. I was just going back to bed.”

“At...” Serena glanced at her watch. “Four in the morning? Shouldn’t you already be in bed?”

“I was. I couldn’t sleep. I probably still won’t be able to, but I’m going to give it a try.”

“I’ve been trying for three hours and haven’t had any luck. Maybe we should both give in to the inevitable, drink some coffee and play a game of checkers.”

“Checkers?”

Annie wasn’t really in the mood for a rousing game of checkers. She wasn’t really in the mood for coffee, but she couldn’t not notice the sadness in Serena’s eyes.

She saw it in her own eyes every time she looked in the mirror.

“Sounds like fun,” she said and couldn’t quite hide the note of sarcasm in her voice.

Serena smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, it’s not my idea of fun, either. I’d rather be out on the gun range, but we’re stuck here for the time being so we may as well make the best of it. Come on. I’ll make the coffee.”

Annie followed Serena into the small living room. Hunter was in the kitchen, so she didn’t follow Serena there. Instead, she sat on the couch and waited. She wanted to ignore Hunter’s presence, pretend that she hadn’t noticed just how masculine he was, just how handsome. Now that she’d noticed, though, she couldn’t not notice. She glanced his way, saw that he was watching her.

She should probably say something, but her mouth was dry, her throat tight.

“You want cream in your coffee?” Serena called, her question breaking the spell that held Annie’s tongue.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Great, because that’s the way I made it.” Serena walked into the living room, two coffee cups balanced on a boxed checkers set. She set it on the coffee table. “Ready?”

“Sure,” Annie responded, settling onto the floor with her back to Hunter.

Hunter watched as Annie and Serena started their game. They both looked relaxed and at ease, but he didn’t think either was. Annie had spoken of nightmares. Serena had struggled during the past year, too. Losing her brother had been difficult; knowing that he’d been murdered in the line of duty and that his murderer was still on the loose was even harder.

He frowned, pouring himself a cup of coffee. His third of the night. Caffeine overload, but he had a long day to get through. A meeting at headquarters at nine, and then a trip to Steven Antonio’s office in the afternoon. The prosecuting attorney was determined to win his case against Saunders and Fiske. He’d been asking for weekly meetings with Annie since her return to St. Louis. Hunter might have to curtail the frequency. She was as prepared for trial as a witness could be, and her safety was paramount.

Hunter glanced at the computer monitor that had been set up on the kitchen counter. The split screen offered views from six security cameras. No sign of trouble outside the apartment building and no sign of it inside. He hadn’t expected that there would be. The safe house had been used dozens of times, and it had never been compromised. There was no reason to believe it would be now.

Then again, the little house that they’d been using had never been compromised before, either.

He sipped lukewarm coffee and tried to think of a way that could have happened without someone from the unit being involved. He trusted the men and women he worked with. He depended on them to do their jobs. He’d have trusted any one of them with his life. But someone had leaked Annie’s location.

He had to find out who, and he had to do it quickly.

Since Daniel Summers’s death, there’d been some tension within the unit. Daniel’s murder had left a hole in the team. Josh McCall and Serena felt the loss the most. Serena because Daniel was her brother. Josh because they’d been partners and best friends. There hadn’t been much Hunter could do but encourage the team to keep working, keep seeking justice and keep doing exactly what Daniel had always loved. But the newest development in the Delacorte case wasn’t going to sit well with anyone. Accusations could be tossed around. That could cause more tension.

No one needed that.

Hunter clenched his fists and walked out of the kitchen. He wasn’t used to feeling helpless, but he’d felt helpless when he’d heard about Daniel’s murder. He’d promised Serena and himself that he’d find the person responsible, and that he’d make sure that person paid. Over a year later, he still had no leads, no suspects, no clues.

He felt as if he was failing himself and his team.

He would fail them even more if he didn’t find the leak and stop it.

Serena and Annie looked up as he entered the room.

“She’s beating my socks off,” Serena said with a dramatic sigh. “How about you take the next round, Hunter?”

Not likely. Playing games while he was on duty wasn’t something he’d ever done, and he didn’t plan to start now. “You’re the checker champ, Serena. I’m sure you can take her down if you put your mind to it. I’ve got to make a couple of calls.”

“Are you checking in with the evidence team?” Serena asked.

“Josh was going to do that. I’m going to call him and see if there have been any updates.”

Her expression hardened the way it seemed to every time Josh was mentioned. She’d obviously had a problem with him since her brother’s murder, and Hunter suspected that she blamed him for Daniel’s death.

“Right. I’m sure Josh will know what’s going on. Your move, Annie.” She turned her attention back to the game.

He could have asked her if she had a problem working with Josh. He didn’t because she did her job well. Whatever she might be feeling, she never let it affect her work. That was what mattered.

He walked down the hall and pulled out his cell phone. Joshua’s phone rang twice before it jumped to voice mail. He left a brief message asking for information and reminding Josh of their meeting. Hopefully, there would be more information by then.

A quiet sound drifted from Annie’s room. Sophia? She was one of the most well-behaved kids he’d ever met. Quiet and cute, she spent her days toddling around the house and smiling. If he’d had time to be a parent, getting to know Sophia would have convinced him that it was a good idea.

He didn’t have time. Not for a wife. Not for kids. Unless he did, he’d never take that step. His siblings had said the same until they’d fallen in love. Now they insisted that he’d change his mind when the right woman came along.

He wasn’t sure that would ever happen, because love was never enough to hold a relationship together. There needed to be time, attention, companionship. There needed to be more than a half-hour dinner once a month or a quick phone call between cases.

There needed to be as much commitment to the relationship as there was to work, and Hunter didn’t think he’d ever be able to give that. He certainly hadn’t had a good example of how to make it work, that was for sure.

He frowned, not sure why he was letting his mind wander in that direction.

Another soft sound drifted from Annie’s room. He peeked in the door. The bed was empty. His heart jumped in surprise, but he wasn’t worried. No way could Sophia have gone far. Then again, he didn’t know how far a toddler would have to go to find trouble in an apartment that wasn’t baby-proofed.

“Sophia?” he called as he walked into the room.

No answer.

He rounded the bed and found her lying beside it, a blanket clutched in one arm. Still sound asleep by the look of things.

He scooped her up, planning to put her back in bed, but her little arms wrapped round his neck, and she held on tight.

“Time to get back in bed, Sophia,” he said.

“Where’s Mommy?” She popped her thumb in her mouth and eyed him suspiciously.

“In the living room. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I want Mommy,” she somehow managed to say without taking her thumb out of her mouth.

For such a young kid, she was very articulate, every word she spoke crystal clear. He had good reason to know it. She was speaking more and more lately, her voice high-pitched and sweet. “All right. I’ll get her for you.”

He tried to put her down again, but she tightened her grip on his neck.

“Hey,” he said, easing one of her little arms from his neck before she cut off circulation. “You’ve got quite a grip, kid.”

“I not kid. I Sophia.”

The comment surprised a laugh out of him. “Sorry. Sophia.”

“Good boy, Hunter,” she said solemnly, patting his cheek.

He was more amused than he probably should be. He was working, after all. Protecting Sophia and Annie. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted.

“Come on,” he said, carrying her from the room. “Let’s get your mom.”

“And a cookie?”

He almost laughed again. “That’s up to your mom.”

“What’s up to me?” Annie hurried into the hall. Obviously, she’d heard him talking to Sophia. She took the toddler from his arms and eyed him with the same suspicion he’d seen in her daughter’s eyes.

They looked a lot alike. Both with dark hair and big blue eyes. Both with smooth skin and delicate features. Hunter had seen pictures of Joe. His hair had been light brown, his eyes gray. Whatever he’d passed on to his daughter didn’t show in her face.

“Sophia wanted a cookie,” he said.

“Does Mommy ever give you cookies before breakfast, Sophia?” She looked at her daughter rather than him, and he had the distinct feeling she was trying to cut him out of the conversation, exclude him from their little circle of family.

That should have been just fine. He’d spent the vast majority of his adult years standing on the edges of other people’s lives. It was part of the job.

For some reason, with Annie, it bothered him.

With her, the quick pivot and half jog down the hall and away from him was more than annoying. It was downright insulting. He’d been providing for Sophia’s needs for months, making sure the little girl was safe and protected. In the last safe house, he’d been the one to buy outlet covers. He’d also been the one to shove them into every outlet in the house so that Sophia wouldn’t stick her fingers into the sockets. He’d purchased a car seat for their trips to and from the airport and to and from the prosecuting attorney’s office. He’d even researched the best ones, making sure that he bought one with the highest safety rating. He’d purchased cabinet locks for the kitchen and little padded covers for the edges of the coffee table in the living room. Annie hadn’t had to think about or worry about any of those things. They’d been done before she’d arrived.

So, yeah, having Sophia snatched from his arms and hurried away as though he might kidnap the kid irked.

He almost asked Annie what her problem was. Why she felt the need to protect her daughter from the guy who’d spent the past month providing everything the little girl needed.

His better self prevailed. His professional self, the one who always kept his cool and never let a witness shake his confidence or his calm, won out over irritation.

Barely.

And that worried him.

Maybe the past year had taken more of a toll than he’d thought it had. Losing Daniel in the line of duty, seeing his team suffer, had given him plenty of sleepless nights. With the Delacorte trial approaching, the danger to Sophia and Annie was intensifying. That had never bothered him with other cases, but this case was different. It involved a completely innocent woman and her child. He’d found himself caring just a little more, going to just a little more trouble for his charges.

Going to a little more trouble was one thing—letting them affect his emotions was another. Once he got Annie safely through the trial, he was going to take a vacation, spend a couple of weeks at his uncle’s ranch in Montana. He’d always loved it there. The fresh air and wide-open spaces. The chance to breathe and think without the clutter of city noise and smog.

He glanced at his watch. He needed to be at the office in two hours. His replacement would arrive soon. The best thing he could do was prepare for the meeting.

He grabbed a laptop from the room beside Annie’s and carried it into the living room. Annie was in the kitchen, making eggs for Sophia. Serena was manning the monitor.

He settled into a chair, opened the laptop and got to work.


FIVE

The worst thing about being in witness protection in St. Louis was that she was never alone. Ever.

And, sometimes, Annie really wanted to be.

In the six hours she’d been awake, she hadn’t had a moment to herself. Serena and Hunter had hovered close by until they’d had to leave for a meeting. After they left, their replacements had done the same.

She rubbed the back of her neck and lifted the blanket Sophia had covered herself with.

“Found you!” she said for the hundredth time.

Sophia giggled and ran away, her chubby legs churning as she zipped past Burke Trier. Tall and muscular with dark hair and eyes, he had a quick smile and an easygoing personality. He was funny, smart and interesting.

He was also a player.

It had taken Annie only a couple of days to figure that out. Not because he’d overstepped any professional lines, but because he constantly seemed to be arriving for his shift after a long night or rushing out because he had a hot date.

His words. Not hers.

Personally, she’d only ever been on nice dates with a nice guy. At least, Joe had seemed nice when they’d been dating during high school and college. He had been nice, but nice didn’t mean honest.

That had been a hard lesson to learn.

She had learned it well. Even if she hadn’t, men like Burke had never appealed to her.

She scooped Sophia into her arms, offering Burke an apologetic smile. “She’s a little hyper. That seems to happen when she doesn’t get enough sleep.”

“She’s less hyper than my nieces and nephews get when they’re tired,” he said with the charming smile he used every time they spoke. “She’s also pretty steady on her feet. Once all this is over, you should put her in gymnastics or dance or something.”

“She’s still a little young for that.”

“My niece is the same age. My sister-in-law takes her to Mommy and Me classes. Gymnastics and dance.”

His sister-in-law obviously had a husband who could help her afford classes. Either that or she had a good job that still allowed her plenty of time to spend with her daughter.

Annie’s situation was different.

There was no sense in trying to explain that to Burke. In a few weeks, the trial would be over. She and Sophia would be free to move on. Annie would find a new job and a good day-care center. Hopefully, they’d settle into life and finally start really living again.

“Maybe I’ll look into it,” she said as she carried Sophia into the kitchen and set her in one of the chairs. “Are you hungry, peanut?”

“For cookies?” Sophia asked. The child loved sweets just like Joe had.

That was one thing she’d gotten from her father.

“For lunch, silly,” she responded, forcing some cheerfulness into her voice. Sophia deserved more than a mother who constantly bemoaned her fate. “But you can have a cookie when you’re finished.”

“Yay!” Sophia clapped her hands, her little eyes barely above the rim of the table. She needed a booster seat, but Annie didn’t want to ask. It seemed as if all she did was ask for things. Hunter had assured her that it was his team’s job to make her and Sophia comfortable, but she was starting to feel like a bird in a cage. Given everything she needed, but denied the freedom she craved.

“I’ll bring a high chair for her tomorrow,” Burke offered, his attention on the computer monitor set up on the counter.

“That’s okay. We’re only going to be here a few more weeks.”

“A few weeks is a long time for a little girl.” He pulled a phone from his pocket and typed something into it. “There. Sent myself a text, and I sent one to Hunter. Between the two of us, we’ll get it done.”

“Really, Burke—”

His cell phone rang, and he raised a hand.

“It’s Hunter. Hold that thought, okay?” He made it sound as though they’d been having an intimate conversation, a man and a woman in the middle of something more than a discussion about booster seats. Or maybe that was just what she heard because Joe had said the same thing to her so many times.

Hold that thought, sweetie. I need to take this call.

Hang on to that thought for a minute. My boss is calling me.

She’d never doubted that she was being interrupted for a good cause. She’d always waited patiently, and then continued the conversation as if the interruption hadn’t happened.

Her throat felt tight and her eyes burned, but she’d cried every tear she could in the weeks after Joe’s death.

She pulled cheese out of the refrigerator, broke it into a few small pieces and put them on a plate. There was a package of crackers on the counter. She put a couple on the plate. Not much of a lunch, but Sophia tended to graze more than eat.

“Here you go, Sophia.” She set the plate in front of her daughter, trying hard not to eavesdrop on the conversation Burke was having. It was hard not to, though. Especially since the conversation seemed to be about her.

“Okay,” he said, meeting her eyes and smiling. “I’ll let her know.” He shoved the phone in his pocket, took a couple of crackers from the open package. “Your meeting with Antonio has been pushed forward. Hunter will be here in twenty minutes to pick you up.”

Twenty minutes would have been plenty of time if she’d had clean clothes for herself and Sophia. A brush would have been nice, too.

“I’m not exactly dressed for a meeting,” she said, glancing down at the sweatshirt and jeans she’d been wearing for the better part of two days.

“Did you check the drawers and closet in your room? Usually, we keep a few things stocked. Just in case we have an emergency like this.”

“I’ll check, but Sophia needs some things, too. All her clothes are back at the house.”

“I’ll have Serena pick them up on her way back here tonight. At least, I’ll ask her to. Knowing her, she already has that on her schedule for the day.”

“Thanks, Burke. Let’s get ready to go,” she said, ready to scoop Sophia into her arms.

“Actually—” Burke put a hand on her arm “—Hunter thinks it would be best if she stays here.”

“I don’t really care what Hunter thinks.” At least, she didn’t care much what he thought when it came to raising her daughter.

“He’s worried about what happened last night, Annie.”

“He’s been worried since the day I met him, and he was probably worried long before that,” she pointed out.

“That’s what makes him good at his job. He takes it seriously. He thinks about every detail, and he plans for every eventuality. If he’s worried about Sophia being out today, you’d be wise to be worried, too.” There was an edge to his voice that Annie hadn’t heard before, a seriousness to his eyes that she couldn’t ignore.

“I’ll...” She glanced at Sophia. She was happily munching on a cracker and smashing a piece of cheese between her fingers. Annie hated to go anywhere without her. Usually, Hunter was happy to accommodate that. The fact that he wasn’t this time made her uneasy. “...talk to Hunter when he gets here.”

“You can talk all you want, but the plans are set. I’m going to stay here with Sophia. Hunter and Serena are going to escort you to the attorney’s office.”

“I really don’t feel comfortable leaving her here, Burke,” she tried to protest.

“You don’t trust me to watch your daughter?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just don’t really like leaving her when I go out.” Mostly because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget the feeling of returning home to a wounded husband and a missing baby. She didn’t want to ever have to live through that again. “Besides, the apartment isn’t toddler-proof. She could get into all kinds of trouble while I’m gone.”

“You know that fifty years ago people didn’t believe in childproofing, right? I mean, they didn’t have all the little gadgets to keep kids from putting their fingers into sockets or pulling furniture over on themselves.”

“And?”

“Most kids lived,” he said drily. “And I’m pretty sure that if I can watch my brother’s identical twins for an entire weekend, I can watch Sophia for a couple of hours.”

“But—”

“Look, Annie,” he cut in. “We try to be accommodating, but when it comes to the safety of the people we’re protecting, we don’t believe in taking chances. If you don’t hurry and get ready, you’re going to be late for your appointment.”





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