Читать книгу Witness Protection Widow - Debra Webb - Страница 12

Jaxson Stevens left Nashville as soon as he heard the news of the accident. He and Branch Holloway had been assigned together briefly before Holloway transferred back to his hometown of Winchester. Holloway was a good guy and a damned fine marshal. Jax was more than happy to back him up until he was on his feet again.

He parked his SUV in the lot and headed for the hospital entrance. He hadn’t been in the Winchester area in ages. He hailed from the Pacific Northwest, and he’d taken an assignment in Seattle when he completed training with the marshal service. He had ended up spending the better part of the first decade of his career on that side of the country. Then he’d needed a change. He’d landed in Nashville last year.

Truth is, he’d hadn’t exactly wanted to spend time in the southeast, but it was a necessary step in his career ladder. There was a woman he’d met when he was in training at Glynco. The two of them had a very intense few months together, and he’d wondered about her for years after moving to Seattle. They’d both been so young when they first met. He’d kept an eye on her for years while she finished college, certain they would end up together again at some point. He’d anonymously helped out when her father passed away.

Then his notions of a romantic reunion had come to a grinding halt after she moved to Atlanta.

She had gotten married. He shook his head. All those years, she had haunted his dreams. He’d thought he had known her, thought they had something that deserved a second go when the time was right. He’d definitely never felt that connection with anyone else.

But he had been wrong. Dead wrong.

A woman who would marry a man like she had was not someone he knew at all. He imagined she fully comprehended what the world thought of her choice about now.

Irrelevant, he reminded himself. The past was the past. Nothing he could do about the years he wasted wondering about her. He was happy in Nashville for now. He had just turned thirty-two, and he had big career plans. There was plenty of time to get serious about a personal relationship. God knew his parents and his sister constantly nagged him about his single status.

Maybe after this case was buttoned up. The witness had to be at trial on Thursday. After that, he was taking a vacation and making some personal decisions. Maybe it was time he took inventory of his life rather than just pouring everything into the job.

The hospital had that disinfectant smell that lingered in every single hospital he’d ever stepped into. The odor triggered unpleasant memories he’d just as soon not revisit in this lifetime. Losing his younger brother was hard as a ten-year-old. He couldn’t imagine what his parents had suffered.

His mom warned him often that he shouldn’t allow that loss to get in the way of having a family. He had never really considered that he chose not to get too serious about a relationship because of what happened when he was a kid, but maybe he had. His parents had spent better than twenty years telling him that what happened wasn’t his fault. Didn’t matter. He would always believe it was. He should have been watching more closely. He should never have allowed his little brother so close to the water’s edge.

He should have been better prepared to help him if something went wrong.

Why the hell had he gone down that road?

Jax shook his head and strode across the lobby, kicking the past back to where it belonged—behind him. A quick check with the information desk and he was on his way to the third floor. He followed the signs to Holloway’s room.

His gaze came to rest on his old friend, and he grimaced. The left side of the man’s face was bruised and swollen as if he’d slugged it out and lost big-time. What he could see of Holloway’s left shoulder was bruised, as well. “You look like hell, buddy.”

Branch Holloway opened his eyes. “Pretty much feel like it, too. Glad you could make it, Stevens.”

Jax moved to the side of his bed. “What happened? You tick off the wrong cowboy?”

Tennessee was full of cowboys. Jax had tried a pair of boots. Not for him. And the hat—well, that just wasn’t his style. He was more a city kind of guy. Jeans, pullovers and a good pair of hiking shoes and he was good to go. He was, however, rather fond of leather. He’d had the leather jacket he wore for over a decade.

“I wish I could tell you a heroic story of chasing bad guys and surviving a shootout, but it was nothing like that. A deer decided my truck was in his way. I didn’t hit him, but I did hit the ditch and then a couple of trees. One tree in particular tried real hard to do me in.”

Jax made a face. “Sounds like you’re damned lucky.”

“That’s what they say, but I gotta tell you right now I’m not feeling too lucky. My wife says I will when I see my truck. It’s totaled.”

“Can I get you anything?” Jax glanced at the water pitcher on the bedside table.

“No, thanks. My wife was here until just a few minutes ago. She’s hovered over me since the paramedics brought me in. Between her and the nurses, I’m good, trust me.”

Jax nodded. “You didn’t want to discuss the case by phone. I take it this is a dark one.” Some cases were listed as dark. These were generally the ones where the person or persons who wanted to hurt the witness had an abundance of resources, making the witness far more vulnerable. Sometimes a case was dark simply because of the priority tag associated with the investigation. The least number of people possible were involved with dark cases.

There were bad guys in this world, and then there were really bad guys.

“Need-to-know basis only,” Holloway said. “We’re only days out from trial. Keeping this witness safe is essential. At this point, we pretty much need to keep her under surveillance twenty-four hours a day until trial. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

“Understandable,” Jax agreed.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the Armone case. It’s been all over the news.”

Jax’s eyebrows went up with a jolt of surprise. “That’s not a name I expected to hear. I knew the patriarch of the family was awaiting trial, but I haven’t kept up with the details. Besides, that’s a ways out of our district.”

“The powers that be felt moving her out of Georgia until trial would help keep her safe. They’ve kept the details quiet on this one to the greatest extent possible. Even with all those precautions and a media blackout, her first location was jeopardized.”

Her? A bad, bad feeling began a slow creep through Jax.

“Hell of a time for you to be out of commission,” he said instead of demanding who the hell the witness was. This could not happen. Maybe it was someone else. A secretary or other associate of the old man. Or maybe of the son, since he was dead. His death may have prompted someone—an illicit lover, perhaps—to come forward.

“Tell me about it,” Holloway grumbled.

“Why don’t you bring me up to speed,” Jax suggested. “We’ll go from there.”

“The file’s under my pillow.”

Jax chuckled as he reached beneath the thin hospital pillow. “I have to say, this is going the distance for the job.”

“We do what we have to, right?”

“Right.” Jax opened the file, his gaze landing on the attached photo. He blinked. Looked again. She looked exactly as she had ten years ago.

“You okay there?” Holloway asked. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“Full disclosure, Holloway.” Jax frowned. “I know this woman.” No. That was wrong. He didn’t just know this woman—he knew her intimately. Had been disappointed in and angry with her for years now.

“Well, hell. If this is a problem, we should call someone else in as quickly as possible. I’ve got the local sheriff, a friend of mine, taking care of things now. But I can’t keep him tied up this way. No one wants this bastard to get away this time. We’ve got him. As long as she lives to testify, he’s not walking.”

Holloway was right. The Armone family had escaped justice far too long. “I’ve got this.” Jax cleared his head. If Holloway thought he was not up to par, he would insist on calling in someone else. Jax was startled, no denying it. But he wanted to do this. He had to do this. For reasons that went beyond the job. Purely selfish reasons. “You can count on me. I just wanted to be up front. We knew each other a long time ago.”

“If you’re sure,” Holloway countered. “I’m confident I can count on you. I just don’t want to put you in an unnecessarily awkward situation. Sometimes the past can adversely affect the present.”

Jax felt his gut tighten. Maybe he wasn’t as ready for this as he’d thought.

No choice.

If he didn’t do this, he would never fully extract her from his head.

The what-ifs would haunt him forever.

“I can handle it. Like I said, we haven’t seen each other in years,” he assured the other man. “No one wants this family to go down more than me.”

That part was more true than he cared to admit.

“If we’re lucky, that family will be history when this trial is done,” Holloway said. “The son is dead. Now all we need is for the father to be put away for the rest of his sorry life.” Holloway searched his face as if looking for any uncertainty. “I can ask Sheriff Tanner to show you the way to her location if you’re sure we’re good to go.”

“That works.”

“Thanks, Stevens. I’ll owe you one.”

THE CABIN WAS well out of town. Sheriff Colt Tanner had met Jax at the courthouse and led the way. Tanner had last checked on the witness an hour ago. At this stage, Jax wasn’t going to simply check on her—he was to stick with her until she walked into that courtroom to testify. Protect, transport...whatever necessary.

On the drive to her location, he had decided he really didn’t have a problem with doing the job. He couldn’t deny that he had spent a great deal of time trying to find Allison James, aka Alice Stewart, the widow of Harrison Armone Jr., illegal drugs and weapons kingpin of the southeast. In fact, he wanted to do this. He wanted to learn what had happened to the sweet young woman he had known during his training. How had the shy, soft-spoken girl become the wife of one of the most wanted bastards on the minds of FBI, ATF and DEA agents alike? Maybe it was sheer curiosity, but he needed to understand how the hell that happened.

The actual problem, in his opinion, was how she would feel about him being the one charged with her safety. She no doubt would understand that he was well aware of who she had gotten involved with and would be disgusted by it. Members of law enforcement from Atlanta to DC had wished for a way to eradicate this problem.

He guessed he would find out soon enough.

Jax parked his SUV next to hers and got out. She was likely watching out the window. Tanner had updated her on Holloway’s condition and told her that a new marshal would be arriving shortly. Jax had no idea whether the sheriff had given her his name. If he had, she might be waiting behind that door with her weapon drawn. Not that she had any reason to be holding a grudge. He’d asked her to go with him to Seattle, but she had turned him down. No matter that he shouldn’t—didn’t want to—he wondered if she had attempted to track him down at any time during those early years after he left and before she made the mistake of her life.

Had she even thought of him?

He hadn’t asked her to marry him, but they had talked about marriage. They had talked about the future and what they each wanted. She’d had expectations. He had recognized this. But that hadn’t stopped him from leaving when an opportunity he couldn’t turn down came his way. She wouldn’t go. Her father was still alive and alone. She didn’t want to move so far away from him. What was he supposed to do? Ignore the offer he had hoped for from the day he decided to join the marshal service?

That little voice that warned when he had crossed the line shouted at him now. He had been selfish. No question. But he’d had family, too, and they had been on the West Coast. An unwinnable situation.

He walked up to the porch. Climbed the steps and crossed to the door. Aware she was certainly watching, he raised his fist and knocked.

She didn’t say a word or make a sound, but he felt her on the other side of the door. Only inches from him. He closed his eyes and recalled her scent. Soft, subtle. She always smelled like citrus. Never wore makeup. She had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen.

The door opened and she stood there, looking exactly the way she had ten years ago—no makeup, no fussy hairdo, just Ali. The big black Lab the sheriff had told him about stood next to her.

For one long moment, she stared at him and he stared at her.

He inhaled a deep breath, acknowledged the scent of her—the scent he would have recognized anywhere.

“Say it.”

For a moment he felt confused at her statement.

“Say it,” she repeated. “I’m not letting you inside until you do.”

He understood then. “Superhero.”

She stepped back, and he walked in. The door closed behind him, locks tumbling into place. The dog sniffed him, eying him suspiciously.

She scratched the Lab’s head, and the dog settled down. “No one told me you were the one coming.”

She stood close to the wall on his left, beyond arm’s reach. Now that he had a chance to really look, she was thinner than before. Fear glittered in her eyes. Beyond the fear was something else. A weariness. Sadness, too, he concluded.

“I didn’t know it was you until I arrived in Winchester.” He held her gaze, refused to let her off the hook. He didn’t want this to be easy. Appreciating her discomfort was low. He knew this, and still he couldn’t help it. “I’m glad I’m the one Holloway called. I want to help. If that’s okay with you.”

“I’m certain Marshal Holloway wouldn’t have called you if you weren’t up to the task.” She shrugged. “As for the past, it was a long time ago. It’s hardly relevant now.”

She was right. It had been a long time. Still, the idea that she played it off so nonchalantly didn’t sit so well. No need for her to know the resentment or whatever the hell it was he harbored related to her decisions or the whirlwind of emotions she had set reeling inside him now. This was work. Business. The job. It wasn’t personal.

He hitched a thumb toward the door. “I picked up a pizza. It’s a little early for lunch, but I was on the road damned early this morning.”

“Make yourself at home. You don’t need my permission to eat.”

No, he did not. “I’ll grab my bag and the pizza.”

He walked out to his SUV. He took a breath. Struggled to slow his heart rate. He had an assignment to complete, and it was essential he pulled his head out of the past and focused on the present. What happened ten years ago or five years ago was irrelevant. What mattered was now. Keeping her safe. Getting her in that courtroom to put a scumbag away.

He grabbed his bag and the pizza and headed back to the cabin. She opened the door for him and then locked the four dead bolts. He placed the pizza on the table and dropped his bag by the sofa. He imagined that would be his bed for the foreseeable future. The place didn’t look large enough to have two bedrooms.

“This is Bob, by the way,” she said of the dog who stayed at her side.

He nodded. “Nice to meet you, Bob.”

Bob stared at him with a healthy dose of either skepticism or continued suspicion.

“Would you like water or a cola?”

Since beer was out of the question, he went for a cola. She walked to the fridge and grabbed two. On the way to the table, she snagged the roll of paper towels from the counter and brought that along, as well. She sat down directly across the table. Apparently she had decided to join him. He passed her a slice, grabbed one of his own and then dug in. Eating would prevent the need for conversation. If he chewed slowly enough, he could drag this out for a while.

She sipped her drink. “You finally get married?”

He was surprised she asked. Left her open for his questions. And he really wanted a number of answers from her. At the moment dealing with all the emotions and sensations related to just being in the same room with her was all he could handle.

“No. Never engaged. Never married.”

Silence dragged on for another minute or so while they ate. Keeping his attention away from her lips as she ate proved more difficult than he’d expected. Frankly, he was grateful when she polished off the last bit.

“Technically,” she pointed out as she reached for a second slice, “we were engaged—informally.”

He went still, startled that his heart didn’t do the same. He hadn’t expected her to bring that up under the circumstances. “Technically,” he repeated, “I suppose you’re right.”

“How long were you in Seattle?”

“Until last year.” He wiped his hands on a napkin. “I’m sorry about your father.”

“It was a tough time.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it was.” He had come so close to attending the funeral, but he had wondered if he would be welcome, so he hadn’t.

He bit into his pizza to prevent asking if that was why she’d ran into the arms of a criminal. Had she wanted someone to take care of her? A sugar daddy or whatever? Fury lit inside him. He forced the thoughts away. It didn’t matter that they had spent months intensely focused on each other, practically inseparable. That had been a long time ago. Whatever they had then was long gone by the time she married Armone. All this emotion was unnecessary. Pointless. Frustrating as hell, actually.

“What about your parents?” She dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Your sister?”

“The parents are doing great. Talking about buying a winter home in Florida. Is that cliché or what?” He managed a smile, hoped to lighten the situation.

She looked completely at ease. Calm. Maybe he was the only one having trouble.

Her lips lifted into a small smile. “A little.”

“My sister is married with three kids.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how she does it.”

“She’s lucky.”

“You have kids?” He knew the answer, but he didn’t know the reason.

“No. He didn’t want children. He had two with his first wife.” She stared at the pizza box for a moment. “Looking back, I was very fortunate he didn’t.”

For now, he guided the conversation away from the bastard she’d married. He asked another question to which he already knew the answer. “You were determined to finish school. Did you manage?”

“I did. With taking care of my father it took forever, but I finally got it done.”

“That’s great.”

More of that suffocating silence. He stared at the pizza, suddenly having no appetite.

“Your career is going well?” she asked.

“It is. The work is challenging and fulfilling.”

She stood. “Thank you for the pizza.”

He watched as she carried her napkin and cola can to the trash. She stood at the sink and stared out the window.

The urge to demand how she could have married a man like Harrison Armone burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it back.

“I think maybe they should send someone else.”

Her words surprised him. Flustered him. He stood, the legs of his chair scraping across the wood floor. “Why? I see no reason we can’t put the past behind us.”

She turned to face him but stayed right where she was, her fingers gripping the edge of the countertop as if she feared gravity would fail her. “If he finds me, he will kill me. If you’re in the way, he’ll kill you, too.”