Книга - Colorado Manhunt: Wilderness Chase / Twin Pursuit

Colorado Manhunt
Lisa Phillips

Jenna Night


Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense
Fugitives on the lam…And danger in the mountain wilderness.In Wilderness Chase by Lisa Phillips, US marshal Noah Trent will do anything to protect key witness Amy Sanders when the brother she testified against escapes from prison and comes after her in the Rocky Mountains. And in Jenna Night’s Twin Pursuit, bounty hunter Lauren Dillard must battle the mountain elements and trained killers when she mistakenly tracks her target’s twin brother, Jason Cortez.







Fugitives on the lam…

And danger in the mountain wilderness.

In Wilderness Chase by Lisa Phillips, US marshal Noah Trent will do anything to protect key witness Amy Sanders when the brother she testified against escapes from prison and comes after her in the Rocky Mountains. And in Jenna Night’s Twin Pursuit, bounty hunter Lauren Dillard must battle the mountain elements and trained killers when she mistakenly tracks her target’s twin brother, Jason Cortez.


LISA PHILLIPS is a British-born, tea-drinking, guitar-playing wife and mom of two. She and her husband lead worship together at their local church. Lisa pens high-stakes stories of mayhem and disaster where you can find made-for-each-other love that always ends in a happily-ever-after. She understands that faith is a work in progress more exciting than any story she can dream up. You can find out more about her books at authorlisaphillips.com (http://www.authorlisaphillips.com).

JENNA NIGHT comes from a family of Southern-born natural storytellers. Her parents were avid readers and the house was always filled with books. No wonder she grew up wanting to tell her own stories. She’s lived on both coasts, but currently resides in the inland northwest, where she’s astonished by the occasional glimpse of a moose, a herd of elk or a soaring eagle.


Colorado Manhunt

Lisa Phillips

and

Jenna Night






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


ISBN: 978-0-008-90087-8

COLORADO MANHUNT

Wilderness Chase © 2020 Lisa Phillips Twin Pursuit © 2020 Virginia Niten

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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




Note to Readers (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)


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Noah pulled his weapon out and crept forward.

Amy had stowed hers in her go bag just in case she was caught alone. US marshals tended to get mad when a protectee tried to help them do their job.

He toed open the door and scanned the woods around the cabin. “It’s clear.”

Amy felt the hairs on her neck flutter. She stepped outside, then glanced back, wondering if she would ever get the chance to come back here. There were things she wanted. Stuff not required in her bag. She didn’t want to lose those things.

A vehicle approached. She heard the crunch of gravel under tires. Then the squeal of brakes.

Noah shoved her back. She fell. Coffee spilled on the entryway rug and his solid body landed on hers.

The rat-a-tat of gunfire cut through the thumping of her heart in her chest.

Noah rolled, taking her past the line of sight in the open doorway while the gunfire continued. He covered her body, arms over her head, so her face was nestled against his shoulder.

Wood splintered around them as the cabin was torn to pieces.

They were going to die.


Contents

Cover (#udee4e7e4-2ad6-5ac1-82c6-177e12bfd6d3)

Back Cover Text (#u062c4bd6-d9a2-5aed-b86d-ee27cb85f1c1)

About the Authors (#u568a92af-ad6e-5b8b-985e-062cba4bfcbb)

Title Page (#u1f0666c8-8b68-5dd3-84b5-d34ee22fc34c)

Copyright (#u6331ebb3-4e07-5f86-9950-ebeb0151595a)

Note to Readers

Introduction (#u1396226c-f2c9-5d05-8d00-65aa3b46bc6a)

Contents (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)

Wilderness Chase (#uba911079-4fef-54af-a8c2-63f36a6c7bc1)

Dedication (#u99fe2b0d-8d02-502e-bbb8-7308fa9e382d)

Bible Verse (#ua8bde0a7-48d3-5b56-b57b-0879210ead7c)

ONE (#u7a589d99-32b5-560b-a289-e73b4159ea46)

TWO (#u341a607a-cebc-54ca-9d55-23aaa231894d)

THREE (#u91910080-3c8c-5ef2-b3d0-7beffe0171e5)

FOUR (#u93a976d5-b254-58c1-bfa8-05c7a12fd137)

FIVE (#u535a3abe-3943-5c2c-9157-8d54db338c9b)

SIX (#u925aae9d-51c1-51f6-a9bb-754fccc8b04f)

SEVEN (#u1eaf4200-d1d3-52e0-b749-ca4c1acb67d5)

EIGHT (#u679a18df-9e19-5aeb-b3bc-b0ee233ba1fe)

NINE (#ue3c8fcc1-8d99-51df-87b2-0a331cc1065f)

TEN (#u4761076c-07e0-5b97-a4e8-f6ca432c1195)

ELEVEN (#ufbf54cba-4348-5758-867c-26ec0fe849a1)

TWELVE (#u19046dcf-fb1b-5a37-8fbc-105f832066e2)

THIRTEEN (#u1195c360-e963-54ff-8283-6e6f0c7ebd5b)

EPILOGUE (#ue6e7f8af-6cfa-59ce-bd86-d7bc8010435e)

Dear Reader (#ub598d851-e60b-575f-b826-f785735b9e14)

Twin Pursuit (#u07636c10-5360-5a96-ae4b-afe3f41ff2d0)

Dedication (#u2dda76cf-e54a-5102-aae2-452477847a10)

Bible Verse (#uf62672ac-6f60-5c07-862d-66cff1f202a1)

ONE (#ub388e880-0db6-50d8-bf37-d637128f0f00)

TWO (#u3ee5b259-8a25-5071-b8f0-12dfc397f612)

THREE (#ub0e51ea2-c0a3-5e44-8c97-bd8aefba08d2)

FOUR (#u72cac52e-1989-5114-83ea-84c59dcc88d6)

FIVE (#udf64683a-18f1-52d1-a995-ee40aa70924a)

SIX (#u320eee60-a001-58fd-b337-e6a6622a196d)

SEVEN (#u532ea78c-a15b-5cdc-9eec-d822db558afe)

EIGHT (#ud0f20c02-a569-5a9a-9466-0d670a267d74)

EPILOGUE (#u082eb907-4043-514c-a67b-44ec67636bab)

Dear Reader (#u32b0a393-0ee2-5bb0-b356-18948948ea86)

Extract (#ued20b7f8-48d9-5559-a136-74fe20041678)

About the Publisher (#u63f527b4-1d4b-5bce-95cb-1ff68eecd39e)


Wilderness Chase (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)

Lisa Phillips


Mega thanks always to my writer friends, who drive me to be the best I can be. Couldn’t do it without you.


Evil pursueth sinners: but to the righteous good shall be repayed.

—Proverbs 13:21




ONE (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)


Deputy US Marshal Noah Trent glanced in the rearview. Had he lost them? The older SUV had stuck behind him for the past fifty miles of Colorado highway.

Today had been a nightmare from start to finish. First, a prisoner transfer had gone horribly wrong. Now two marshals were dead and three inmates had escaped. He’d hit the road almost as fast as the news had come.

One inmate had been caught, but the other two men were still in the wind. It was assumed they weren’t together. Too bad that was about all the marshals knew.

If Jeremiah Sanders was loose, it meant one thing. He’d dig up his sister’s whereabouts and be at her doorstep faster than you could say, “Incoming.”

The man wanted to put his sister, Amy, in the ground as revenge for testifying against him. Then there was the death of Jeremiah’s son. Despite what happened to the teen, Jeremiah held her responsible for that, as well. As though she’d been the one to cause the car accident.

Hopefully Jeremiah was still in Washington state, and nowhere near his sister.

Noah looked back for the blue SUV again. He gripped the wheel the same way he’d done all afternoon. Then he tapped the screen of the rental car and listened to the phone ring through the speakers.

“Withers.”

Noah said, “It’s Deputy Marshal Trent.”

“Any problems?”

“An SUV behind me, but I lost them,” he told his boss.

“Good,” Withers said. “We don’t need this turning into more of a circus than it already is.”

“Yes, sir.”

Withers was all about damage control. Noah didn’t fault him, but playing all the angles had to be exhausting. Now that he was within twenty miles of Amy’s home, Noah didn’t want that SUV to show up again. It would mean leading them right to her.

“Everyone in the Northwest is out looking for those missing inmates.” Withers sighed. “I could call the local police to meet you.”

“I’m not sure what we could tell them, sir.” Noah wasn’t about to call in a suspicious SUV without having to explain who she was and why he was here.

Withers said, “They’re probably watching for Sanders and Pepperton, anyway, considering the BOLO just went nationwide.”

“Good.” Noah was glad law enforcement across the country would “be on the lookout” for Jeremiah Sanders and the other escaped prisoner—Richard Pepperton.

“Gotta go,” Withers said. “Another case update just came in.” He hung up.

Had Jeremiah made his way to Colorado? And how would he even know where to find his sister, considering she was a protected witness? Everyone knew he hated her. Those who hadn’t heard him screaming in that courtroom had learned about it from the media coverage.

How much time did Noah have before Jeremiah somehow discovered his sister’s whereabouts?

Noah glanced back again to check for the blue SUV. Nothing. Could be cartel foot soldiers following him. Jeremiah had worked with them and was reportedly still doing so in prison. Maybe they’d deployed people all over, looking for Jeremiah or his sister.

Noah would almost rather see the SUV again. Then he could lead it somewhere that was nowhere near Amy’s cabin. He wasn’t about to put the woman in danger. Noah was going to ignore the fact she fired all his instincts to keep someone safe. Well, obviously that was true since he was a marshal. Keeping people safe was what he did.

But Amy and her huge green eyes, full of fear, just hadn’t let go of him. It had been a year since they’d had that…moment. Since they’d almost kissed, and then one of his coworkers had walked in. He should’ve forgotten about her by now.

Noah sighed, a reply to the hum of the tires on the road. He’d vowed a long time ago that relationships weren’t for him if he wanted to make director before he was fifty. There were too many people who needed protecting, and he couldn’t be distracted by a woman he wouldn’t know for long before she faded out of his life.

Again.

Noah checked his rearview once more before the turnoff to her cabin. He drove down the gravel road, past the vacation cabins. A couple of cars were parked outside.

It was another six miles to Amy’s place. When the marshal in charge of her case had securely sent him the location, simply because he was closer, Noah hadn’t been able to believe the city girl would be so far from anywhere.

Then he saw it. Her cabin, nestled in a clearing. Single story. Probably one bedroom. Boards on the outside had been replaced, the varnish on those planks a slightly different shade than the rest. Floral drapes. Empty flowerpots on the porch.

She needed a rocker.

The idea of getting one for her made his lips curl into a smile. He parked and trotted to her front door, energized by the idea of seeing her. Seemed a shame to make her leave, but he could get her back here to her nice cabin soon enough. It was the exact kind of place he’d love to go on vacation. If he ever took one.

Noah knocked on the front door, and it creaked open. His other hand readied to pull his gun. He had to be prepared for anything.

“Amy? It’s the US Marshals.” He could get to who he was soon enough, when she knew she was safe.

He stepped inside and looked around. Tiny kitchen, rustic furniture that looked more comfortable than his. The TV had been left on.

Paused.

The screen showed a prison picture of Jeremiah and the other man, both still at large. Presumed extremely dangerous. Across the bottom of the screen it read Call Police Immediately.

Noah called out, “Amy!” again.

No answer.

He walked through the cabin, checking for her in the bathroom and bedroom. His pace quickened as he went, as each second ticked by and he didn’t find her. The mudroom at the back was piled up with boots, shoes and tennis shoes. Jackets and sweaters hung, and the back door was wide open.

She wasn’t here.

Noah stood on the step at the back door and yelled, “Amy!”






Amy gripped the gun in trembling fingers, crouched behind a downed tree. She knew that voice.

It was Noah.

Relief rushed through her, but hot on its heels was the realization that she couldn’t be certain she could trust him. Right now she wasn’t certain she could trust anyone.

She bit her lip. Seeing her brother’s face on the TV, and then hearing the car out front, she’d fumbled with the remote before dropping it. There had only been time to grab the gun and run out the back door. No panic to cloud her thinking, which meant she was already outside running across the frozen grass of the lawn before she even thought to get shoes. Now that the adrenaline had dissipated she could think straight.

Amy stood. She held the gun in front of her and gingerly wandered in his direction. “Noah?”

Even if he meant to hurt her, she could shoot him. Right? Okay, probably not, given their history. She tried to act strong, but it wasn’t like she could actually get over the fear that liked to paralyze her. She’d thought her days of facing down her brother were over.

Now all that had come rushing back with one word.

Escaped.

“Amy!” He trotted over as she made her way to him. The look of worry on his face helped. He scanned her, head to toe. “You ran outside with no coat, and no shoes?”

Only then did she realize that under the sleeves of her shirt gooseflesh prickled her skin. She had a short-sleeved T-shirt on over a long-sleeved undershirt. That was something, at least. But with skinny jeans and wool socks, it wasn’t much protection against the frigid temperatures.

“There was no time,” she argued. “I thought you were Jeremiah.” She would have left that spot where she’d been hiding and run deeper into the brush if it had been anyone but Noah. She didn’t even trust the marshal assigned to her case.

His gaze softened further. “Let’s get you inside.”

She nodded. Her socks were wet, making her toes numb. “I just put a pot of coffee on.”

“We can turn it off before we leave.”

She glanced over at him, slowing her pace. “I’m not leaving.” He wasn’t just here to brief her? She’d assumed he would hang out here until her brother was caught. Make sure nothing happened to her.

Amy shivered at the idea that her brother might actually find her. Didn’t Witness Security—which most people knew as the witness protection program—have measures in place to keep that from happening? It was hard to believe that in a matter of hours after escaping from federal custody, her brother would be able to locate her and reach her doorstep.

She didn’t want to ask, but had to. “Is there something I don’t know?”

Noah said, “Let’s get inside. You’re shivering.”

“I’m not all that worried about being cold, considering there’s a murderous maniac on the loose.” Even after all this time she didn’t like referring to her brother that way. But there was little point in refusing to accept reality.

She stepped inside, and he shut the door behind them. “You have a bag ready?”

“My ‘go’ bag?” That was for emergencies. “Is Jeremiah on his way here?”

Noah lifted one shoulder. “The truth is we have no idea where he is. So the quicker you can get a coat, shoes and your bag, the faster we can get out of here. There’s a safe house set up.”

“This was supposed to be my safe house.” She had to say it. Even though arguing was futile, she had to voice those things. Tiny flashes of defiance against everything Jeremiah had put her through.

Yes, it had been her choice to testify against him. But it had been the right thing. Otherwise who knew what destruction he would’ve caused in the end? Or how many lives might have been lost.

He’d told her he was trying to find a job so he could get on his feet, and properly support his son. She’d gotten him a cell phone on her plan so prospective employers could contact him. A few weeks later, when he hadn’t said anything to her about any interviews, she’d looked at his texts on her online account.

That was when she’d discovered the truth. Jeremiah had been transporting drugs and guns for a cartel.

It had broken her heart. What else could she have done when feds showed up at her doorstep except turn everything over to the FBI?

Amy got clean socks and put a pair of boots on. She added a sweater, even though she was going to put her thick coat on. Gloves and a scarf. A hat. She’d gotten used to Colorado winters, and loved the chill in the air, but the cold set in fast no matter how “used to it” she was. Her “go” bag had a packet of those hand warmers in it, the ones she liked to slip inside her gloves when she went snowshoeing.

“Ready?” Noah had two insulated tumblers out. He replaced the carafe and topped one tumbler up with cold water—he took his coffee black. Amy got her bag while he put milk in hers and screwed the lid on. He walked out of the kitchen. “No sense wasting good coffee.”

He handed one tumbler to her, leaving one of his hands free. She shot him a look. “How do you know I don’t buy the cheap stuff?”

They headed for the door, and she saw his shiver. “Don’t even joke about that.” Car keys jingled against the tumbler as he walked. At the front door, he waved her to the side. No smiles.

She knew the drill.

Noah pulled his weapon out. She’d stowed hers in her “go” bag just in case she was caught alone. In her experience, US Marshals tended to get mad when a protectee tried to help them do their job.

He toed open the door and scanned. “It’s clear.”

Amy felt the hairs on her neck flutter. She stepped outside, then glanced back. Would she ever get the chance to return here? There were things she wanted. Stuff not required in her bag, but which still meant something to her. She didn’t want to lose the things she’d chosen. Just as she didn’t want to lose the life she’d started to build for herself here over the past year.

Jeremiah was ruining everything. Again.

A vehicle approached. She heard the crunch of gravel under tires, followed by the squeal of brakes.

Noah shoved her back. Coffee spilled on the entryway rug and his solid body landed on hers. Tackled to the floor. Because her brother was trying to kill her.

The rat-a-tat of automatic gunfire cut through the thump of her heart in her chest.

Noah rolled her past the line of sight in the open doorway while the gunfire continued. He covered her body. Arms over her head, so her face was nestled against his shoulder.

Wood splintered around them as the cabin was torn to pieces.

They were going to die.




TWO (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)


He heard her whimper, but there was no time for comfort. Air rushed in his ears and he could feel wet under one knee. Spilled coffee.

“Come on.” He hauled her up and they moved.

Through the house, toward the back door. The hallway would put them in the line of fire. Noah stopped at the doorway from the kitchen to the hall and peered around the frame. The gunshots had stopped. Would one of the men come around to the back door, to try and cut off their escape?

His brain wanted to run through all those lingering questions… Who were these guys? How had they found the cabin? But dwelling on all that would only get them killed. Right now they needed to move.

Beyond the open front door—and Amy’s “go” bag that she’d dropped—was a blue SUV. The same one that had been behind him on the highway a while ago. It had to be, because in his experience there was no such thing as a coincidence. Not when it came down to protecting witnesses. But he’d lost that vehicle. They hadn’t followed him here.

Amy clutched his arm. He could hear her breath coming fast. She was scared, relying on him to keep her safe and get them both out of there. The weight of that responsibility was heavy, but not unwelcome. It was the career he’d chosen, the path on which he felt the most like himself.

“Stay here.” He tugged her to stand right up against the wall, where he’d been. “When I say, you run out the back door. Okay?”

She nodded, wide eyes full of fear.

Noah moved back the way they’d come. Both men were still outside. One watching the cabin, the other on a phone. Calling in the fact that they had found Amy? He didn’t like the idea of more men showing up.

Noah reached out with his foot and kicked the front door shut, then ducked to the side. Gunshots peppered the wood as he fired two shots through the window, obliterating the glass and screen.

He ran for the back door. They could get out, it was clear. Both men were out front and waiting…for whatever it was they were waiting for. Noah wasn’t going to do that.

He and Amy were getting out of there.

“Go, Amy! Now!” he called out loud enough she could hear, but not so loud it would be audible from out front.

In a flash of the dark material of her jacket, he saw her run.

Noah caught up at the back door just as she pulled it open. Amy stepped back and to the side, and he moved around her. If he’d explained what he wanted her to do, there was no way it would have come out that smoothly. Thank You, God. They moved as though he’d protected her for years. And in a way, he had. He’d just been doing it from afar since the trial.

A whole year.

Now they met like this?

Noah exited first, gun up. Amy tapped his shoulder.

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and they ran for the trees.

Snow lay a couple of feet deep around the cabin. Amy steered them to a trodden-down path, crunchy rutted snow she’d apparently walked frequently.

The cold air chilled his hands, and the material of her glove over the hand he held. He picked up their pace as they headed along the path. They would be out in the open until they got to the tree line. How far did her path go? And where did it lead?

He was about to ask her when she said, “Careful of—”

Noah’s foot hit a patch of slick snow and he stumbled. His leg gave out, and his knee hit hard-packed snow. He grunted, but held the reaction back.

“You okay?”

He nodded and got his feet under him. He kept running, still holding her hand. He’d probably squeezed it to death for a second there, when his brain had realized his body was falling. Noah kept scanning the area as they ran. Waiting for the second when those gunmen figured out they’d escaped out the back and set off in pursuit.

Thankfully, the ground was so frozen they weren’t making any tracks on the rutted path. Unfortunately, however, that meant his knee throbbed with every step.

He gritted his teeth and pushed on.

“You’re not okay.” Her voice came out breathy.

“Doesn’t matter.” Maybe she was scared, and sympathy gave her something to think about beyond the fear. Whatever the reason, he liked that she cared. What he didn’t like was that they weren’t at the tree line yet.

A shot rang out.

Amy squealed. They both ducked and pressed on, running hunched over. They couldn’t veer from the path or they’d be wading in snow. Noah ran as hard and fast as he could, praying with every step that neither of them slipped.

The second he passed the first tree, he entertained the idea they might make it. Noah sucked in a breath. Tried to calm his exhale. Otherwise he was going to end up passing out.

The pathway angled to the east, and they ran along it.

He slowed, turned as he ran. Checked behind them. Those men were coming. “Where does this go?”

“Into town.”

Would they make it that far?






Amy wanted to whimper. What would giving in to the fear accomplish? That hadn’t helped during the trial. It wouldn’t help now, when her brother was coming after her. Whether that meant he would show up here in person, or send men to abduct her, she didn’t know. Could be he’d only escaped in order to force the marshals to show up at her house. All part of his plan to get revenge on her.

Use the marshals to flush her out, and then kill her.

Without her bag, which she’d dropped before they ran out, Amy had exactly one thing that might keep her alive. But revealing her secret to her brother meant putting an innocent person in danger. It was the last thing she wanted to do, despite the fact it could save her life.

Could she die to protect her nephew’s life?

Absolutely.

In a way, she already had. The person she used to be had perished. Now she was…someone entirely different, living an entirely different life hundreds of miles from who she was. Hundreds of miles from wherever Anthony was.

They ran at least another two miles until she saw the tree. Gnarled and crusty, it had been hit by lightning. Split in two. She liked to sit on it and rest, on her way into or coming home from town.

A couple of times a month, Amy walked to church. Or for a slice of pie from the diner. In summer she did it a lot more. This time of year it was harder to get around. She’d been thinking about an ATV. Too late now. Would have come in handy today, though.

“You okay?”

She glanced over. “You’re the one limping.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Going to play the stoic hero, protecting the damsel in distress?”

He shot her a look. “Not a cliché if it’s actually what’s happening.” He shrugged. “This is where we are. We can either complain, or we can figure out how to get to a vehicle.”

“I was thinking more like go to the sheriff’s office.”

“Does he know who you really are?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. That’s why you’re here, right?” He didn’t say anything then, just scanned the area around them. She didn’t believe they’d lost those guys. Only that they’d gotten far enough ahead running flat out that they had a second to catch their breath.

Then she saw them out the corner of her eye.

“We should—”

He didn’t need to finish. Amy said, “Hide.”

“I was going to say ‘go.’ But ‘hide’ works.” He followed her around to the back of the tree. It was big enough that it should conceal them until these guys moved on. Then maybe they could go back to the cabin, and Noah’s car.

Amy watched as the two gunmen came into view. They both looked around, and then the other gunman pulled out a phone. No, not a phone. That one had a radio.

“Probably checking in,” Noah whispered, crouched beside her. He tugged his cell from his pocket, and she saw him send a text message. Or try to. “I have no signal.”

The gunman on the phone looked to be having problems, too. He looked at the screen of his phone, clearly frustrated.

Amy leaned closer to him. “Should we make a run for it?”

Noah shook his head. “We’re safer out of sight. For now. Hiding was a good idea.” He turned to watch the two men, and she got the chance to look at his face in profile.

Strong features. He probably thought his ears were too big, but she’d always thought they fit his face. She wondered what he’d looked like as a kid. If he’d gone through that awkward phase everyone seemed to have around middle school, and into high school. Then again, maybe he’d always been like this.

Steady. Protective. He’d probably had a best friend he’d helped keep safe from bullies. Or a neighborhood kid. Like that boy with Down syndrome on her street when she’d been growing up. She’d loved handing out candy on Halloween, just because he would come and she’d get to see him smile like it was Christmas.

“Amy.”

She blinked away the memories. “What?”

He pointed over her shoulder. She turned, facing the fact she couldn’t live in her memories. The good times were long gone. Nothing in her life right now was even close to that, even though she’d been working hard to be happy. Or at least trying to find some piece of “happy.”

On the opposite side of where they crouched, huddled behind the tree, two more men approached. Gunmen, or hunters? It could hardly be a coincidence that more gunmen happened to find them here.

Had her brother sent a whole army to find her? And how was it that they seemed to be closing in on their hiding spot? These gunmen had to know where she and Noah were somehow, which meant they couldn’t stay here.

She turned back to him, ready to tell him that.

“Time to run.” He didn’t look happy about it, but if he thought they should do it, then she was going to. Noah would go with what he thought would keep her alive. She was trusting him to keep them both alive.

Amy shifted around, ready to sprint, and saw that look in his eyes. One she’d seen a few times, all of them a year ago during the trial. A look that said he cared more than he was going to say about her.

She looked away from it now, because it wasn’t going to help. During the trial she’d let those thoughts distract her. They’d been a nice distraction, taking a few seconds in the middle of the insanity to think about what might have been. Right now it wasn’t going to help. Not when the reality was that their lives were incompatible. He was a marshal. She was a witness living in seclusion.

Who knew if they would even survive today?




THREE (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)


With every step into the snow, Noah wondered if it would be their last. Would their bodies be found in spring, when the snow melted? He couldn’t help the shudder as they trudged. Quietly. As quick as they could. Crouched down, wading through the snow.

Trying not to get shot.

“Which way is town?” His phone wasn’t loading the Maps app, so he had no idea where they were. Let alone where they were going.

“That way.” She pointed left, her arm angled behind her at the seven o’clock position.

“But…”

“Come on. I know where we can go.”

Noah frowned, but continued to follow. If he argued with her it could draw attention to them. They were far too exposed as it was. Essentially crawling through the brush and snow trying to get away from gunmen in the woods searching for them.

“Hey!”

The cry rang out. Snow drifted from the branches of a tree. It was beautiful, if it wasn’t going to be the last thing he saw before he was killed, before Amy was taken by hired guns and delivered to her brother to be executed.

“Go!” He hauled her to her feet and they ran.

Shots resounded through the forest, the sound harsh and far too loud out here in the still winter of the Colorado wilderness.

Noah spun around and fired back. A gunman fell.

He caught up to Amy and they kept going, tearing through the trees. He had no idea where they were headed but had to rely on her knowledge of this area. Presumably she’d hiked it. Maybe she’d even prepared for an eventuality such as this. Witnesses were counseled about the possible need for escape plans. Hopefully she’d taken the marshals service’s advice and done it well. He wanted to believe that. To trust her. But only time would tell. Noah had to do what was best for her.

Whether or not she liked it, or agreed with him, there may come a point when he had to make a choice.

If he was going to die for anyone—as much as he didn’t want to think about that—then he would rather it was her than someone else.

Just Amy.

A couple more shots rang out. Farther away this time.

He looked back and saw two guys in an argument. Whatever that was about, he didn’t know. But he thanked God for it and kept running.

Maybe they’d been ordered not to kill Amy, but to abduct her instead? Or none of them liked the idea of killing a US Marshal. Whatever the reason they were arguing and not racing after the two people fleeing, he wasn’t going to object.

“This way.” Amy changed directions.

Hopefully they could get far enough, fast enough, those guys would lose them. But he’d thought that with the SUV on the highway and the vehicle had pulled up at Amy’s cabin.

As though they knew exactly where she was.

Like maybe he had led them there.

Noah pulled out his phone. No signal, which meant he wasn’t being tracked. Possibly they could’ve tracked his phone to the cabin. Someone at the marshals service would’ve had to have leaked the information that it was him headed to her. Or they’d been hacked.

Seemed like they were doing a coordinated search now. Pinning them down out here. They would probably leave Noah bleeding in the snow and take Amy.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Why wouldn’t he be? His knee hurt, but that wasn’t the point. “Why?”

“You made a funny noise.”

Was he supposed to tell her that the thought of being left for dead while she was taken was like how he imagined the sudden realization that he’d been shoved off a cliff would feel? He didn’t even know if he could put it into words. Let alone do that while they were on the run.

He’d try and explain later, if they got the chance. Until then, he’d have to make sure that didn’t happen.

Noah glanced back but couldn’t see anyone in pursuit. “I’m fine. Just go…wherever we’re going.” Up ahead a cabin came into view. “That?”

“It’s a hunting cabin.” They jogged over to it.

“They’ll know we’re in here as soon as they see it.”

“I know.” She didn’t stop. “But there’s a radio in there. And supplies.”

A couple minutes to stop, and then they moved on? “Let’s be quick.”

He halted her at the front door. Noah scanned outside, then went in first. He kept her in sight at all times. When he’d looked in, sure there was no one waiting, he waved her to enter. Then shut the door.

“Don’t turn on any of the lights—”

She finished for him. “And stay away from the windows.”

Amy knew the drill. A fact he appreciated, about as much as he didn’t like that it was necessary. She had the tools. She’d been through this before, and during the trial. That would help keep both of them safe now.

She was the kind of person who deserved to have a peaceful, safe life. Not one where she was constantly on the run, scared because her brother wanted to kill her.

If he hadn’t escaped…

Dreaming that it hadn’t happened wasn’t going to help. Wishful thinking, or denial, wouldn’t keep the bullets from flying at them. It didn’t matter what he thought her life should have been, or the good a person like Amy deserved. After all, she’d done the right thing. The place they were right now, and the situation they were in, took precedence.

She held the receiver of a radio in her hand.

“What is it?” Noah walked over. “Is it not working?”

Maybe they’d killed the radio signal somehow. His cell didn’t have any bars. He’d figured this middle of nowhere wilderness was just one of those dead spots. A broken radio on top of that?

“It’s just…” The fear hadn’t left those bright green eyes of hers. “What if they’re listening? They’ll know where we are when I tell the sheriff.”

“Tell the sheriff.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. “Then we’re out of here before they can show up.”

He turned and looked around while she got on the radio and spoke with the dispatcher. He searched for anything useful they could take with them. This was like some kind of communal cabin. A place to crash after a long day of hunting, all the things here common use. Take one, leave one of something else. A cooperative effort to stay out of the weather without hauling in a tent or it costing money.

If they had to stay here, they could. But it wasn’t safe—not when there were gunmen in the area.

They had to keep moving.






“Thank you.” She replaced the handset on the tabletop and turned, her stomach a ball of knots. She wanted the distraction of gathering up her bag but didn’t even have that.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “They’re going to have someone meet us on the highway. If those men are listening in somehow, then we’ll have to find a place to hide.”

Behind a tree again? That had worked before, but she didn’t like the idea of being pinned down waiting for death. It seemed like that had happened several times since Noah had shown up.

She wanted to run again, holding his hand. Amy wasn’t a coward. She couldn’t have done what she’d done and testified against a whole cartel if she had been. She’d have caved when the first death threats came in.

She’d been alone for a year now, trying to figure out how to trust people. How to not give in to the fear and let it swallow her whole. Sure, she’d basically retreated. She rode her bicycle or walked to work, interacting with her boss and their customers at the bookstore. She knew how to make a fabulous caramel macchiato that Noah would probably think was way too sweet. But she never connected with people.

She wasn’t ready yet.

Or she hadn’t been, until Noah showed up in the snow.

Someone moved past the window.

Amy swallowed back a scream. Choked on it. Noah spun from her to the window, putting her behind him. Whoever walked through the door would meet him first. Their bullets would hit him first.

It was enough to make her drown in the fear. That mental image of him falling. The blood.

A whimper worked its way up her throat. She shoved it back down. Why did she have to react like that every time? If she wasn’t about to be killed she might try to work on being braver, but there wasn’t time.

She looked around for a weapon. Her gaze snagged on a latch…on the floor.

Noah had his weapon out. She crouched and grasped at the latch. Pulled it up and open. A trapdoor. Inside were wooden stairs leading down. “I think this is an old root cellar, or something.” They could hide inside.

Behind him, boots pounded on the front steps.

“Come on,” she whispered.

He had to hurry, or they would be found. Not waiting for him, Amy stumbled down the steps. One hand out straight, she slammed it into a wall. Dirt. This was an old root cellar, like an Old West refrigerator. And it was freezing down here.

A second later Noah followed. He pulled the trapdoor shut over their heads.

Shut in.

Totally dark. Oh, no.

She’d tried so hard to work past it, but she could feel it coming now. Breath hitched in her throat. Each inhale faster than the previous one. Hands reached for her. Grasped her sleeve. Then she felt a hand run from her elbow down to her wrist. He tugged her to him, gently.

“Amy.” He whispered her name.

Each breath wasn’t enough. Amy tried to suck in a lungful of air, but it hitched halfway. She was making too much noise.

Why did this have to happen now? There was no way it should come on this fast. She’d been working on it. Trying to get past it.

Noah’s shirt was warm. His strong hand rubbed up and down her back. “Shhh.”

He knew. He’d been one of the marshals that had raided the house along with FBI agents in full tactical gear. Law enforcement personnel who had rescued her before her brother’s friends could hand her over to be killed.

Where is our money?

She squeezed her eyes shut and wound her arms around Noah now. This was what was happening right here, in the present.

She wasn’t in that house. There were no gunmen down here in this cellar. Just her and Noah. The marshal who had come to keep her safe, so that the terror she’d gone through before didn’t happen again.

Amy worked to push down the panic. Nothing but a memory. A reaction, a symptom in her recovery. Not even a setback. She wasn’t going to let it have that much power over her.

He held her tight. A hug that was every bit as strong and reassuring as it was when he’d held her hand. When he stood in front of her to meet the danger first.

Above their heads boards creaked. Those booted feet, walking around inside the cabin.

Amy held herself still. They were right above them.

One sound, and she and Noah would be killed.




FOUR (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)


Noah tried to reassure her, but couldn’t use words. The man above them would surely hear if he even made the tiniest sound. Amy had been having a panic attack. Because of the dark enclosed space?

The footsteps above moved through the cabin as the person looked around. Noah prayed they wouldn’t find the trapdoor, despite it being in the middle of the floor. If they weren’t discovered, it would be for sure a God-thing.

Noah trusted in Him to keep them safe. He also prayed for Amy. She needed to hold it together and not let the fear overtake her. Right before the trial she’d been under marshal guard at a hotel. During transport to where she’d been supposed to record a video of her testimony for the US Attorney, they’d been ambushed.

Amy had been taken.

Three hours later, he’d been part of the team that stormed the house and got her back. The cartel foot soldiers who’d been holding her were either killed in the operation, or sent to jail and killed there. Far too convenient. None of them had ever given anything away.

As for Noah, he would never forget the look on her face when he’d kicked the basement door in and found her tied to that chair. They’d saved her that day, but clearly there were lasting repercussions. The fact she was able to keep a lid on her reaction, enough to not give away their hiding spot, was a good sign. She’d retained that strength he’d seen in her during the trial. That resolve to do the right thing.

A door slammed above.

Amy flinched in his arms. He squeezed her hands and let her go so she could take a half step back.

He whispered, “Keep quiet for a little longer, okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was small. Forlorn.

He’d liked to have hugged her again, but that would be more about reassuring himself that she was all right. Amy was his protectee. He shouldn’t move things beyond what was professional. A year ago, during the trial, he’d still been a newer agent. He was more seasoned now, but he could still remember every word of his boss’s caution against allowing his personal feelings for Amy to interfere with his career.

Getting tangled with a witness will mark you until you retire. You’ll be that deputy and you’ll never shake it.

He could care about her. He could protect her.

What he couldn’t do was fall for her.

Noah shifted to face the stairs and felt his way up a couple of steps until he could touch the trapdoor above his head. “I need to go and see if the coast is clear. Stay here.”

She said nothing.

“Amy?”

He heard her sniff. Then she said, “Okay.”

Noah needed to do this safely, but also quickly. She needed to get out of this dark, enclosed space and out where she could see daylight.

He prayed again, and held his breath as he listened for noise on the other side of the trapdoor. When he heard nothing for another minute except the distant sound of a small engine, he eased it up. No time to lose. They could have been forced to stay in that cellar for hours, but the sheriff’s department wasn’t coming here. He didn’t know if Amy could handle being down there that long. The situation could get worse in that time, not better.

An inch of sunlight spilled in. He listened again and thought he might have heard Amy whisper, “Please be careful.”

She was scared, but knowing she cared about him helped. It made him a little bit more confident that she wouldn’t put them both at risk. Some witnesses didn’t listen. But the fact was, Witness Security hadn’t lost a protectee who followed their rules. That was why they had them in place.

Noah eased the trapdoor all the way open and laid it down as carefully as he could. If the wood banged the floor someone might come running.

He climbed out and moved to the window, staying out of sight as he looked around. A man climbed behind another onto the back of a snowmobile. They roared off and he realized the one on the back had been the man he’d shot at Amy’s cabin.

Taken away because he needed medical attention, maybe.

So where were the other two?

He moved through the cabin and looked out the other windows. Tried to see where the gunmen had gone. Finally, he spotted them. “There you are.”

Before either could turn and see him through the window, he ducked out of sight again. If he was going to take them out, he needed to do it without using his gun. The noise of a gunshot would carry through the snowy wilderness. Every gunman in the area—and he didn’t figure these four were out here alone—would be drawn to them.

Noah walked to the front door, determined to get this done. He kicked the side table as he went. Two empty drink cans clattered to the floor. A second later, someone yelled outside.

Noah swiped up one of the metal folding chairs that sat around the card table and adjusted his grip. Here goes nothin’. He’d need to swing it hard and fast to take the men down without getting shot.

Footsteps pounded around to the front door. Noah watched the door handle rotate, counting every breath as he braced for what was about to happen.

The first man stepped in. Noah waited a heartbeat and then swung with the chair. It slammed into the man’s face and shoulders. He dropped to the floor.

The momentum took the chair into the door. Noah tried to pull the swing, but it slammed the wood. The impact rushed up his arm.

It wouldn’t be long before the other man stepped in.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw movement. But it wasn’t the other man. It was Amy, coming out of the cellar.






The expression on Noah’s face didn’t mean anything good.

She looked at the man on the floor. “Wow, he—”

Noah’s gun came up. Pointed right at her. “No!”

Arms banded around her and lifted her feet off the ground. Amy tried to scream but the air caught in her throat as this man’s arm pressed against her diaphragm.

“Let her go!” Noah’s voice rang through the cabin.

Her head swam. She kicked with her legs. Tried to hit back at the man holding her. Fresh from a panic attack, she had little in the way of reserves. But the last thing she wanted was to be taken from here.

“Gun down!” The man’s voice was heavily accented. She’d heard that lilt before, but couldn’t be sure if it had been this man specifically.

Where is our money?

Her gaze connected with Noah’s. She could see the intent there in his eyes, plain as if he’d spoken the words out loud. He would die to save her.

Noah’s lips pressed together for a second, and she saw a slight shake of his head. “No way. I’m not lowering my gun.”

Nothing about what he’d said surprised her. He was a federal agent, and he wasn’t about to disarm himself. Especially not with a witness in the room in danger.

The gunman shifted his aim. He laid his forearm on her shoulder, weapon pointed at Noah.

She could try and shove it away.

Noah gave another tiny shift of his head. Didn’t like her idea? Apparently she was broadcasting it on her face and he’d seen it.

Too bad the alternative was that these men shoot each other. And she was between them, just standing here waiting to get hit.

Instead of keeping watch on that take-charge thing he had going, she shut her eyes. Yes, he was the marshal and she was the protected witness. That didn’t mean she had to be helpless, did it?

She heard the gunman’s ragged breathing. Felt the squeeze of his arm, still holding her waist tight.

The weight of his arm rested on her shoulder and tugged it down. She wanted to shake it off. Not helpful. She needed to get out of his grip instead, move away from being between Noah and the target he wanted to hit. She couldn’t turn to the left—he’d just hold on tighter. She needed to spin right. Into the arm holding her.

Amy opened her eyes. She motioned to the right with her gaze, and then she moved. Turned to the inside of his arm. It shifted with his surprise. Amy moved to the side, so the back of her shoulder faced Noah. Body out of the way. She did it fast enough that Noah used those few seconds before the gunman realized what was happening.

A shot cracked through the room. The noise was deafening in the small space.

Amy’s entire body flinched. She shoved the gunman’s arm away, praying she didn’t get shot in the back of the head for her trouble.

He let go. His hand fell away and he hit the floor behind her.

Dead.

Noah grabbed Amy’s hand. “Come on.” He grabbed the gunman’s weapon and tugged her to the door. “We have to get out of here before someone who heard that shot shows up.”

She nodded, hardly able to process everything.

Yes, he’d saved her life. He’d also taken a life. His job. Was it supposed to hit her like this?

“You okay?”

They were at the door now. She nodded, even though tears rolled down her face. Beside the door were snowshoes, stacked upright. “Let’s take these.” They could cut across the snow and make it to the road, avoiding anyone else that might be out there looking for them.

She handed him a pair, not acknowledging the look on his face. She had to push aside emotion and face the next step. The next heartbeat, the next breath. That was all. Just stick with the basics. Keep her head together. Don’t get caught in that undertow, the residual effects of the panic attack causing everything to be so close to the surface.

Noah led the way outside where they put snowshoes on. “If we need to run, can we do it in these?”

“You have to be careful, but you should be able to run.”

“Do you want this gun?”

She looked down at the weapon in his hand, the gunman’s weapon. After a second of debate she took it, hit the button to slide the clip out. It was nearly empty. Because the gunman had shot at her when they’d been back at her cabin? She shoved it back in and pulled back the slide.

Noah said, “Okay, let’s go.”

He set off. She wanted him to take her hand again, but she couldn’t rely on him to support her. She had to stand by herself. All those things she’d believed she could do. Now she was actually having to do them. Self-defense. Weapons training.

Running.

No one out for a jog ever believed it was only training for the next time they had to run for their life.

Except her.

Noah scanned the area as he walked. “I saw two of them take off on a snowmobile. One is dead back there, and the other is unconscious.”

“He’ll probably wake up and come after us, right?” She glanced back at the hunting cabin and shuddered. Not just because of the man lying on the floor by the door. She never wanted to be anywhere near that place after everything that had happened in there.

The marshals wouldn’t ever let her come back to this area, anyway. They would relocate her. A new name. A new life.

Noah said, “All the more reason to pick up the pace.”

Amy followed him, her mind full of the knowledge that every step she took might be her last.

Her brother was coming for her.




FIVE (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)


The snowshoes were awkward, but Noah couldn’t deny they made better progress across the mountainside, through the trees and two-feet-deep snow, a whole lot faster with them than without. Both of them would have had wet pant legs, and they’d be even more cold now.

“Is that a car up ahead?”

He took a few more steps, trying to see what she’d been referring to. Despite the markings denoting it as a county sheriff’s vehicle, he said, “Wait here for a second.” Then he did a half walk, half run in snowshoes to the side of the highway, where a sheriff’s department vehicle waited.

Just the small SUV. No occupant.

“Okay.” He waved her over.

Tension sat like a knot in his stomach. Like a bad case of food poisoning.

They had to get help.

Noah’s whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat. He felt like he’d run his usual morning routine of six miles, but all of it uphill. He estimated they’d maybe walked three miles, if that. It felt so much farther with the extra exertion of wading through Colorado winter in snowshoes.

He blew out a breath. Amy came over to him. She was maybe a little winded but didn’t seem any worse for their…workout. That sounded a whole lot better than running for their lives.

“Where is the sheriff?”

Noah looked around. Then he walked across the hard-packed snow on the road to circle the SUV. The snowshoes didn’t help when the snow was matted down like ice, but if he took them off and more gunmen came, how would he get them back on? Mostly he figured he’d regret it if he took them off and he’d probably regret leaving them on.

Useful, but not exactly user-friendly.

Noah tugged on the driver’s door handle. “It’s unlocked.” He saw the state of the interior. “Not good.”

“What is it?”

He lifted a hand. “Stay over there.” He wanted her to have at least a chance of cover to hide behind, and she was closer to the trees on that side of the vehicle.

“What is it?” Her tone was different this time, heavy with a hint of what he’d seen when she’d opened her eyes. Right before she’d twisted out of the gunman’s arms. The determination inside her, not just to do the right thing but also to pull her weight. To treat this like a partnership, and not like he was the marshal and she was the witness.

Noah wouldn’t let anyone else make that shift. Amy? He trusted her. She did what he needed her to. She followed orders. She also showed him that vulnerable side he wanted to take care of.

“Noah.”

“There’s blood on the seat.”

“How much?”

She really wanted the answer to that? “Enough he’s light-headed, but hopefully still alive.”

She twisted around to look at the area. “Do you think he’s here somewhere, hurt?”

“Whoever injured him took the time to shut the door after they got him out of the SUV.”

“So they dragged him off and left him in the snow to bleed out and die? Or he was already dead?”

Was she angling for a job as a detective? “When we find him, or whoever hurt him, we can ask them.” He took a step back. If the sheriff—or whoever had shown up—left the vehicle bleeding, wouldn’t there be blood on the snow somewhere? He didn’t see any. Not losing blood meant the wound was either not bleeding now or had been staunched somehow. A stray drop would be here, surely.

The alternative was that the person had died before they were moved—no more blood flow to get on the snow.

He shook his head. Now he was doing exactly what he accused her of doing—trying to figure out what happened with no evidence.

Noah wandered to the far side of the empty highway. He looked for footprints. Probably more than one person had been out here. Where were they?

Behind him, he heard the other door to the SUV open. Heard Amy’s intake of breath. Exactly what he hadn’t wanted her to see, that visible evidence of injury. Something to trigger another panic attack.

She’d done well to keep it together so far. He didn’t want to be the cause of something she wouldn’t be able to fight off. A rush of emotion that would slow them down.

Then he spotted something.

“Over here!”

He called out before he even realized what he’d done. Noah rushed to the sheriff’s deputy’s side, landing awkwardly on his knees because of the snowshoes. “Can you hear me?”

He patted the man’s cheek, not looking at the blood on his shoulder. The law officer seemed to have passed out, his shoulder bundled up by his jacket. Why leave the vehicle, though? Walking off to pass out in the snow didn’t seem like a good idea.

He drew his gun. Then he grabbed the uniformed man’s good arm and hauled the man onto his back. Noah stood up from his crouch and faced Amy. “Get back to the SUV. Try to find some keys.”

He followed her, carrying the man over his shoulder. Teeth gritted. Each footstep a prayer that he wouldn’t trip over the edge of one of these shoe-things and fall.

She got in the front seat. “You think someone is here, like, watching?”

He hauled open the back door. “Maybe.” Then laid the uniformed man on the back seat. Noah didn’t figure his chances were good if they didn’t get him to a hospital, or whatever passed for one in this town, and quick.

The engine cranked. Coughed, then turned over. He ran around to the passenger door and got in.

Amy tossed her snowshoes on the floor in the back and then threw the SUV in Drive.

“Go.”

She hit the gas. “Where?”

Noah looked around. He’d expected someone to come out of the woods and murder them. Leaving the officer for them to find like that… It didn’t make any sense.






“You think that was a trap?”

He nodded. She saw it out the corner of her eye as she drove toward the medical center, which was thankfully on this end of town.

“You think he’ll be okay?”

“I hope so.”

She knew he wouldn’t like it if a law enforcement person was killed. Not when his job here was protection. She was the one he was supposed to be keeping safe—and alive—but she knew firsthand how they felt about collateral damage. And how deeply they reacted to the loss of what they’d refer to as “one of their own.”

“If it was a trap,” she said, “wouldn’t they have waited for us to show up?”

“I’d have thought so.”

“Or hurt him.” She jabbed at the back seat with her thumb. “And taken his car?” Except they hadn’t, and now she was the one driving it. None of this made sense.

“Maybe that was the plan, and then they got called away. Like to the cabin. Could be we crossed paths—or we would have if we hadn’t been cutting across the forest in these snowshoes.” He put his with hers, in the footwell of the back seat.

“How are we supposed to figure out what the answer is?”

He shifted and pulled the cell phone from his back pocket. “Still no signal.”

“It’ll be a minute until we get closer to town. Unless you have the one carrier that literally gets zero signal no matter where in town you are.”

“That would be disappointing.” He lifted the radio from the dash. Keyed the mic. “This is Deputy Marshal Trent. Is someone there?”

Static was his only reply.

“Something is going on, right?” She gripped the wheel, concentrating on driving in her lane and not freaking out. “I’m not crazy. There’s a whole bunch of cartel guys running around these woods all looking for me. And now it’s worse.”

He sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth when he said, “Now it’s worse.”

Great. Amy bit her lip and nudged her foot down on the gas pedal. No. That wasn’t going to be good. She eased off for the corner, half worried they would come up against some kind of roadblock. A group of cartel members waiting with their weapons, ready to kill her.

But there was no one around the corner.

They saw no cars on the road all the way to town. At the medical center, a single car had been parked at the far end of the parking lot. Amy drove all the way up to the front doors and jumped out.

“I’ll carry him. You get them to bring a bed out.”

She nodded and ran to the front doors, leaving the driver’s door open. She pushed on the door and nearly fell inside. “Help! We need help! The sheriff has been shot!” She didn’t know if that was true, but it was probably what’d happened. He could be a deputy.

A nurse ran out, wary-eyed but ready to help. Black scrubs and a short pixie cut. She was probably in her fifties and had the build of a woman who watched what she ate and worked on her feet all day—but still loved to treat herself to dessert. “Where is he?” Amy waved at the door. “We need a gurney, or a stretcher, or whatever it’s called.”

The woman grabbed a phone from the empty reception desk and hit one button. “Bring a bed.” She replaced the receiver.

Amy said, “Is something going on?”

Before the woman could answer, Noah strode in hauling the lawman over his shoulder again.

A male in blue scrubs pushed a bed down the hall. Noah laid the lawman down. “It’s just the two of you?”

The woman’s full attention was on the man on the bed. “That’s Deputy Higgins.”

“Let’s get him in the back so we can check him out.” The man was younger and looked more scared than any of them.

Amy took a step back.

Noah glanced at her. “What is it?”

“They’ll take care of him. We should get out of their hair.”

Noah looked at the woman. “What’s going on?”

She took a step back on her white sneakers. “Everything is fine. She’s right, be on your way.” The pointed look she gave Noah wasn’t lost on Amy. She wanted them gone.

Amy turned to the door. Whatever was happening here, these people would fare a whole lot better if she left. Maybe if she’d never come in the first place that would have been best. But this was where the marshals had placed her. It had seemed like a nice quiet town to put down roots in, so she hadn’t objected.

Her eyes filled as she pushed the front door open again.

“Hold up.” Noah caught up to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as he angled her out of the way.

“I go first.”

“Right.” She tried not to let the conflicting emotions bleed through to her tone but was pretty sure he caught all of it. He could probably read her like no one else ever had.

She’d figured she was keeping her own counsel with her emotions her whole life. But maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe it was just that no one had cared to see what she really felt, below the surface. Until Noah.

He pushed outside and she heard the roar of an engine. Rotors. Amy followed him, wondering if it was state police. Or a TV news station reporting on the prison break, maybe.

Seconds later a helicopter flew overhead.

Time to run again?

Noah reached over and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”




SIX (#u48bee924-e794-597e-bcb2-1d2f04402622)


“Looks like it set down over there.” Noah pointed out the windshield, then made a right turn.

“That’s the park area out front of city hall.”

“If it’s clear of trees there’s probably enough space to land.” He still didn’t like this, though. He had no phone signal. No way to tell if the occupants of that helicopter were friend or foe. One meant rescue, the other meant more running.

The marshals, or the cartel?

He turned a corner. On the sidewalk, an older woman wearing warm clothes and white sneakers hustled along. More than a power walk. She glanced behind her, then hurried down the street. Running away.

At the far end of this street, on the corner at the crosswalk, two men stood together in conversation. Both had dark hair and red-tipped ears from the cold. No gloves, black boots. The bottom half of their pant legs were wet.

Men from the woods. Possibly the same ones who had chased them. He didn’t know.

Noah kept driving. What else could he do? Then he saw a side street halfway down the block. He tapped the gas and took the turn faster than he should. At the last second he saw the men recognize them.

Noah gripped the wheel.

Amy twisted to look out the back window. “He got his phone out.”

“They’ll be calling in a sighting of us. Are they following?”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice still shook. That quaver of fear he didn’t like.

It might be realistic to be scared, and he wasn’t going to tell her not to be. Still, Noah would rather Amy were somewhere safe by now. Or that she’d never gotten into this situation in the first place.

But that would be impossible. Life was about choices, and she’d done the right thing. It had cost the life of her nephew, but she was moving on. Trying to get free.

He wanted to be there to the end, if he could.

If she would let him be part of the happy ending of her story.

“We need to ditch this car.”

Amy said nothing. Noah pulled into someone’s driveway. The sheriff’s department probably had GPS on all their vehicles. If he and Amy were going to get out of here, then they needed a way to do that without being tracked.

He pulled up the emergency brake and shut the engine off, leaving the keys inside. “Come on.”

They hopped out, and he shifted places with her so he could hold her right hand and have his gun in his right hand. He wanted her with him. Connected. And he wanted to be able to defend them both.

“Seems weirdly quiet,” she commented as they turned onto the sidewalk.

“Empty.” No one was outside, apart from that older lady he’d seen running from the two men.

Across the street Noah saw the slats of a blind in someone’s front window snap shut. They were being watched? Or whoever it was wanted to make sure they stayed out of sight.

“This feels weird.”

Noah squeezed her hand for a second to try and impart some reassurance in her. Hopefully it worked. But until they were actually out of here, neither of them was going to relax.

“It’s up here?” He pointed with their joined hands.

Amy nodded. “To the right.”

“Okay.” He didn’t want to go out into a common area if they were going to be exposed, so he slowed at the end of the street.

Then he checked behind them. No one had followed. He crouched and looked around the corner. Please be the marshals.

The helicopter rotors had powered down. A group of men milled around. Noah drew his phone and took pictures of them, trying to zoom in far enough to make out…

That was the cartel’s number two.

His stomach dropped. “It’s not help.”

They needed to get out of here, and fast. Too many men. They were outnumbered, and outgunned. Noah would love to arrest that guy right now. Take him in. Get all the respect and accolades for bringing down a key player in the cartel, one they’d never been able to pin down. A man on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.

Now he was here. Surrounded by foot soldiers all looking for Amy.

“Who is…?”

Behind the cartel number two, another man climbed from the helicopter. Jeremiah Sanders. Amy’s brother.

Noah shifted. “We have to go.”

The street was still empty. They needed a car. A way out of town.

“What—”

He cut her off. “It’s not help. It’s more of their guys.” He tugged her back down the sidewalk. Should he tell her?

“Noah.”

She knew. “Your brother is here.” Amy said nothing. “I don’t want to be standing around when they spot us.”

She nodded, her face flushed. Her hair was disheveled. “Okay.”

He picked up the pace and they started to run. But where? Aside from that sheriff’s department vehicle, how were they supposed to get out of town to a safe place? He wasn’t about to steal someone’s car. Help appeared to be limited.

It was like the whole town had been put on lockdown and every resident confined to their homes. Which was good, as it helped them to avoid collateral damage when bullets started flying. Who wanted an innocent caught in the cross fire?

But the eerie quiet was bizarre enough it caused a niggling feeling in him. How were they supposed to get out? Her brother and all his cartel buddies were here. Jeremiah had escaped prison for the express purpose of flushing out Amy so he could get revenge.

Amy squeezed his hand. “Jeremiah is really—”

A man turned the corner at the street where they’d left the car.

“—here?”

There was no time to answer her question. He shoved her across the street. “Go!”






Noah raced with her to the far side of a car parked on the street. She crouched behind it as the first bullet flew at them. Then he crouched and returned fire over the hood of the car.

Jeremiah was here.

Amy resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears and pretend she was anywhere but here. It might work for a toddler trying to hide from the world, but she was a grown woman.

She slid the gun from the back of her waistband and crawled to the rear of the car. If the gunman came into view, and there was anything she could do, then she would absolutely defend herself. But Noah was a marshal. He was the federal agent here, and she wasn’t.

He would probably never forgive her if she put herself in danger.

The man was out of sight. Noah fired again. She heard the cartel guy grunt as one of the bullets Noah had fired struck him. She didn’t want to be glad for someone getting hurt, even if it was a criminal, but there was nothing else they could do. These people were trying to kidnap or kill her. Right now they were like a swarm of ants crawling over a summer picnic.

She bit back a whimper and crawled close to Noah. Over his shoulder she saw two men round the corner. “More of them are coming.”

He looked. “And they’re bringing friends with them.”

Amy got ready to run when he told her to. She’d never anticipated wanting to leave this town as badly as she did right now. In fact, she had thought she would live here the rest of her life, hiding from her brother and his friends.

She looked over. Two men ran up behind the first two. They tackled them from behind. Shoved them to the ground and hit them with what she realized were baseball bats. Amy winced. Locals? But whether they were or not, Amy didn’t want to hide behind this car forever. She was exposed in the street. Out here, waiting for someone to pick her off.

She spun, aiming the gun around her just in case more people ran up from another direction. The two men who had tackled the gunmen advanced on them next. The first one started to close in on her and Noah saw the star badge on his belt.

“Marshal?” The man then eyed her. “Is this business all about you?” Instead of answering him, Noah said, “We need a car.” He stood up, keeping her behind him. Making it clear she was under his protection. “Then we’ll be on our way, and you can have your town back.”

The man eyed him and Amy. “Or we can turn you two over to them and it’ll be done a whole lot faster.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. Nor did she like the look in his eyes. “We’re leaving.” She put all the confidence and bravery she didn’t feel in her voice. It didn’t matter what they tried. They weren’t the thing she feared.

Jeremiah was here.

She lifted her chin. “We need a car.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” one of the men suggested.

Before she could object to that—no, thank you—Noah did it first. “That’s not happening. I don’t want more collateral damage than there already has been.” He waved at the two men on the ground. Blood had pooled on the sidewalk. Were they dead?

These guys were wild cards. She wouldn’t have gone with them even if Noah had agreed to it. “Let’s go.” She put her hand on his arm.

Noah took a step back, then another. She had to move, as well. The two of them backed away from the men, Amy behind him the whole time.

When they were far enough away, Noah turned. “Come on.”

They jogged back toward the sheriff’s department vehicle. When they turned the corner and she could see it, Amy breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Noah glanced over. The look on his face was like he wanted to smile, but this wasn’t the time. True. But it was nice, even just for a second, to have that shared moment of connection.

He pulled open the driver’s door. “They busted out the radio.”

She got in on the passenger side and saw the damage. “That isn’t all they did.”

Wires hung down under the steering wheel.

Noah got in. He selected two and touched them together. Trying to hot-wire it? Whatever he was attempting to do, it didn’t work. He sat back in the chair. “We aren’t getting out of here in this.”

“What are we going to do?”

He looked at his phone. “Still no signal. I’m beginning to think someone’s blocking it deliberately.”

“Because my brother is here now, and he doesn’t want to be found?” She didn’t want to see the look in his eyes, so she watched out the front window of the small SUV.

Noah touched the back of her hand, his palm warm. She wanted to shut her eyes, but if she did that she wouldn’t be able to see danger coming.

“I’m going to keep you safe, but to do that we need to keep moving.”

She nodded and he squeezed her hand. Amy turned to him then. “Thank you for being here.”

His eyes softened. “There’s no way I’d let you do this alone.”

The words warmed her. She felt the corners of her lips curl up as she opened her mouth, ready to tell him he’d been sent here for his job.

The back window of the car shattered. A bullet hit the front window and lodged in the glass, splintering it out in every direction.

If they’d been any closer to each other…

Amy screamed.





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