Читать книгу Dangerous Christmas Memories - Sarah Hamaker - Страница 16

Luc jolted awake when the SUV stopped. He couldn’t believe he had fallen asleep. The combination of the shooting, car accident and ibuprofen must have lulled him into catching a few winks. Stretching his back sent a stabbing pain in his arm, which receded to throbbing. Careful not to move his injured limb, he pulled out his phone to check the time. 6:38 p.m. They had been driving for around three hours.

Mac shifted in the driver’s seat to face the back and spotted Luc’s phone. “You’ll need to give me your phone, Mr. Langsdale.”

“My phone?” Luc wasn’t about to hand over his smartphone without an explanation. “Why do you need it?”

“Because you’re now in witness protection along with Priscilla. For security, you can’t contact anyone until we apprehend the man who’s after her. I’d have asked for it earlier, but you were sleeping.”

Luc shook the last of the cobwebs from his brain, his hand clutching the phone in a tighter grip. “What if I don’t want to go into witness protection? I have a choice, right?”

Mac exchanged a look with Priscilla, who stayed silent. “To enter the program permanently, you would have to agree to do so. However, this would be temporary. My top priority is keeping Priscilla safe, and right now, you’re along for the ride.”

“What does that mean?” Luc still kept his phone, not willing to hand over the device so easily.

“That you’ll need to stay in the safe house with Priscilla for a day or two while we get this sorted out,” Mac replied. “We’ll have marshals on guard around the clock while we figure out where to permanently relocate her. With your being a witness to the salon shooting, you might have noticed something that can help us catch whoever’s behind this.”

Luc had a hard time digesting that information. But the idea that he’d be able to talk more with Priscilla appealed to him. “Will I be able to at least let my family and employer know I’ll be gone for a couple of days?”

Mac shook his head. “Tell me who to text or email and what to say, and I’ll send it for you.”

Luc studied the marshal’s granite jawline. The other man wasn’t going to budge. Luc reluctantly reached over the seat to give Mac the phone. “I’m glad you take keeping Priscilla safe seriously, but I have to ask—do you trust anyone?”

“I wish I could trust people, but unfortunately, most of them think precautions like not using their smartphone for anything don’t apply to them.” Mac’s face settled into grim lines. “Witnesses can die because someone didn’t follow these rules. Now, who needs to know you’ll be taking a few days off?”

Luc gave Mac the name of his boss and a message about a family emergency that necessitated his immediate absence from his job with CS Enterprises, a cybersecurity company with government contracts. He also gave Mac a message to give his sister, with whom he was expected for dinner the next evening. He used a sudden trip to work for a client who insisted on no outside phones while working on the company’s highly sensitive computer network.

Priscilla raised her eyebrows. “Wow, those are really good excuses. Sounds like you’ve had practice in covering your real whereabouts.”

“Not at all. Just read too many spy thrillers, I guess.” He shrugged. “I just hope those excuses work. I’d hate for anyone to be worried about me or think I’m missing.”

Mac powered off Luc’s phone and pocketed it. “I’ll make sure you get it back.”

“Are we waiting for backup?” Priscilla’s left leg started jiggling again. She looked up to see Luc watching her leg and stopped the movement.

“Yes, should be here soon.” Mac continued to survey their surroundings.

Luc gazed at the small house tucked into a side street of what appeared to be a quiet neighborhood. Many of the houses had Christmas lights, the bright displays a welcome sight after their harrowing trip. The mild early-December day hadn’t brought anyone outside, although most driveways had cars parked in them.

Another vehicle pulled parallel with theirs in the gravel driveway and four clean-shaven men in nearly identical suits stepped out. Reinforcements had arrived. Two of the men fanned out to check the house perimeter, while the other pair disappeared inside. After a few minutes, one of the men who had entered the house gave a hand signal to Mac from the front stoop.

“Mac? Can we get out of the car?” Priscilla sounded tired and scared.

“Yes, let’s go into the house.” Mac exited the SUV, giving the area a sweep before opening Priscilla’s door. As she got out, Luc opened his own door and eased to a standing position. His whole body ached even though it was his upper arm that had been creased by a bullet.

He followed the pair into the small Cape Cod–style house with two dormer windows. The avocado-green shag carpet in the living room affirmed the home hadn’t been updated since it was built in the early seventies. A small kitchen with the same color appliances sat to the right and a short hallway led to what Mac said was a bedroom and adjoining bathroom.

One of the two men who had cleared the house stood in the kitchen doorway. “Mr. Langsdale? If you’ll come through to the kitchen, I’d like to take a closer look at your arm.”

Luc wasn’t surprised they knew his identity. Mac had likely relayed that information soon after Luc had told Priscilla his real name. What he didn’t know was how deep into his background the marshals would look at first glance. Luc needed to talk with Priscilla first about their wedding, but that would have to wait until he’d had something to eat and some rest. His brain in its current state was too muddled to think straight.

He followed the man into the kitchen, where the second marshal had laid out first-aid supplies—gauze, bandages and a syringe.

“What’s that?” Luc pointed to the syringe.

“Antibiotics.” The man grinned. “Don’t worry—I’m a trained paramedic as well as a US marshal.” He held out his hand to Luc. “By the way, I’m Nick Grayson. Have a seat and let me see that arm.”

Luc shook his hand, then joined Grayson at the table. From the open doorway, he could see Priscilla and Mac conferring in the living room, standing close together. Mac, with his wavy brown hair and muscular form, appeared like a TV version of a US marshal. Luc didn’t spot a wedding ring on Mac’s hand. Maybe Priscilla was in love with her handler, which would make asking her for an annulment that much easier.

“Stay still while I remove the bandage.” Grayson nodded toward the other room. “Don’t worry. Mac’s married.”

Embarrassment crept over Luc like an old man shoving on a baseball cap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Grayson swiped the area around the wound with an alcohol swab, then used a saline rinse to cleanse the wound itself. “Not that I blame you. She’s definitely striking, but you don’t have anything to worry about with Mac.”

Luc gritted his teeth but couldn’t stop a groan from escaping as the paramedic-marshal worked on his arm. To distract himself from the stinging pain, he contemplated Priscilla. Her formerly blond hair was now brown with purple and turquoise streaks. Today she wore it in two buns on either side of her head, which meant it was longer than the short haircut she sported the night they’d met. He jerked his thoughts away from wondering how long her hair was. He was here to end their nonexistent marriage, not rekindle a failed romance. A broken engagement right after college and a missing bride had undermined Luc’s confidence in sustaining a relationship. His busy work schedule made meeting women difficult, and over the years it became easier to not even try than to have his heart broken again. Both sets of grandparents and his own parents had fairy-tale marriages—the love between each couple had been nauseating to him and his siblings as children, but now it served to highlight his own inability to find someone with whom he could settle down.

Luc bit back a yelp as Grayson used tweezers to extract something from the wound.

“Sorry, got some of the bandanna in the wound.”

“That’s okay. I’m not usually so sensitive, but today has been anything but normal.”

Grayson affixed a fresh bandage on the wound, then wrapped it in gauze. “There, that will keep it covered. Now, time for your shot of antibiotics.”

Luc grunted as the man gave the shot.

After adhering a bandage to the injection site, Grayson stripped off his gloves. “You’ll be as good as new in no time.”

Luc stood. “Are we done here?”

Grayson nodded as he cleaned up the supplies.

“Thanks. I’m going to check on Priscilla.” Luc pushed open the kitchen door and hurried into the living room.

Priscilla and Mac stopped talking at his entrance. “How’s the arm?” Priscilla gestured toward the fresh bandage.

“Sore.” Luc looked from one to the other. “What happens next?”

Mac’s eyes hardened.

Luc braced himself for what the marshal would say.

The other man didn’t disappoint. “You tell us why you’ve been following Priscilla.”