Love Inspired Suspense October 2015 #1 (44 page)

“Ahem.” Bear stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Angelina and Dylan jumped apart.

She hated the chagrined, embarrassed look that appeared on Dylan's face. He couldn't even meet her eyes.

“What's up, Bear?” Dylan asked.

“Hate to break things up in here.” Bear gestured with his head to the front door. “But we've got company.”

* * *

Dylan withdrew his gun from his shoulder harness. He looked at Angelina, put a finger across his lips to silence her and gestured for her to stay put.

He glanced through the curtain. A black SUV, looking just like the one he'd seen earlier, parked in their driveway. After cutting the engine, a solitary man, about five-ten, wearing denim jeans and a baseball windbreaker stepped out of the car and approached the house.

Dylan followed Bear to the front door and, with gun drawn, stepped to the side out of sight, nodding the okay for his partner to answer the bell.

Bear swung the door open halfway. “Can I help you?”

“Hi! My name's Travis Holden. I live three houses down on the left.”

Bear smiled politely but didn't open the door wider or offer to let the man enter.

“Anyway, I saw a man outside by the mailbox a few hours ago. We were surprised to see anybody here. Old Man Tillman lives alone. He mentioned he'd be away for a month or so visiting family. So we were wondering...”

Dylan studied the man through the slight opening between the door and jamb. He seemed unsure of himself and definitely uncomfortable. His eyes shifted frequently. He had a hard time making eye contact with Bear. He kept shuffling his feet and didn't seem to know what to do with his hands.

“Anyway, my wife wouldn't shut up about it. You know how wives can get sometimes.” The man grinned and tried to include Bear in his joke. “She wouldn't rest until I came up here and checked on things.” The man strained his neck and tried to peer past Bear, which almost made Dylan laugh. Trying to see past Bear would be like trying to glance over a mountain.

“So, is everything okay here?” Dylan again tried to refrain from laughing at the sheepish expression on the neighbor's face.

Bear laughed and reached out to shake the man's hand. “Well, you tell your wife that she has a keen eye and that Mr. Tillman will be real pleased to hear that the two of you are watching out for his place while he's gone. My friend and I are real estate developers. We've known Tillman for years. He mentioned that he would be out of town for a couple of months visiting relatives. We offered to rent the place while we're in town finishing up our business. It's a win-win for both of us. Gives him a little cash to supplement his retirement and helps us out. Staying in hotels can get old after a while.”

The neighbor grinned and shook Bear's hand. “See. I told her there was a reasonable explanation. So how long are you guys gonna be in town?”

“Can't say for sure. You know how business deals go. Could be a couple of weeks or more. But if we're lucky, we'll finish up and be out of here in a couple of days. Either way, our friend Tillman got a month's rent and my friend's wife is providing us with home-cooked meals instead of fast-food joints while we finish our business.”

“So there's a woman here, too?” Again, the man tried to peer around Bear.

“A couple of them.” Bear winked. “My gal hit the hay already and to be truthful, man, I'm a bit tired myself.” He dropped his hold on the neighbor's hand. “But thanks again for stopping by. Appreciate it. Good night.”

The neighbor grinned, waved and headed back to his truck.

Dylan watched the truck pull out of the driveway and continued to watch until he saw it pull into the driveway three doors down.

“Stupid man.” Bear poked fun at the neighbor. “Er, um, are you a burglar, man?” He shook his head in disgust. “If I was a bad guy, didn't he think I could have blown his head off?” He closed the door. “I'll call it in,” he said and headed back to the kitchen.

Dylan rejoined Angelina in the den. He saw the panic in her eyes and hurried to reassure her. “Nosy neighbor. Nosy wife. Nothing to worry about.”

Angelina exhaled deeply and Dylan wondered if she'd been holding her breath the entire time.

Their eyes met and an awkward moment passed between them as they remembered what they'd been doing before Bear appeared in the doorway.

“Thanks for listening to me.” Angelina couldn't meet his eyes.

“No problem. We're all here to make things as easy for you as possible.”

Angelina gave him a telling glance.

He wasn't fooling her. What had passed between them had been anything but a simple comforting gesture from one federal marshal to a spooked witness and they both knew it.

“Well, thanks for listening, anyway. I appreciate it.” She stood. “I am feeling a little tired after all. I think I'll go up and get some sleep. What room should I use?”

“The first door on the left. Selma and you are bunking together.”

Angelina grinned. “Of course, we are.”

Dylan watched her climb the stairs and disappear inside the bedroom.

What was wrong with him?

He never should have touched her. Never should have held her in his arms. Never should have comforted her.

Now he had to go into the kitchen and try to explain to Bear that he hadn't really seen what he thought he'd seen. And have a logical explanation when his partner asked him what was going on.

But how was he going to explain what he didn't understand himself?

SEVEN

A
ngelina rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stopped dead in her tracks in the entrance to the kitchen. Two people she'd never seen before were perched on stools and drinking coffee. She rubbed her eyes again.

The female, blonde, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, jumped up and came to greet her. She held out her hand. “Hi. I'm Marshal Donna Clark. This is my partner, Brad Peterson.”

The marshal stood and nodded his greeting. Angelina did a quick study. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Average build. Average height. Nothing notable, and that's probably one of the things that made him a good marshal. He could blend in to any assignment without being noticed.

“We're going to be your day detail today,” Donna said.

Angelina shook her hand, only then noticing the small gun holster strapped to the woman's belt.

“Hi.”

Donna herded Angelina to the kitchen table. “Would you like a cup of coffee? We just put on a fresh pot.”

“Sure. Thanks. But I can get it myself. I don't expect you to wait on me.”

That quickly, Donna was already across the room. “No problem. I'm up. And, yes, you will be free to get your own coffee and your own breakfast from here on out.” She plunked a mug of steaming brew in front of her. “But I'm being nice.”

“Believe me, that won't last long.” Brad grinned at her. “This is probably the only cup of coffee I've seen her get anyone. You must be special.”

Donna moved the creamer and sugar in front of her.

“Naw. You're not special. But Dylan told me that Selma was a little rough on you last night.”

“Where are they?” Angelina swiveled her head back and forth.

“Selma headed out about an hour ago. She'll be back about six tonight.” Brad winked at her. “That should give you plenty of time to put on armor for round two. Selma has a reputation for being tough.” Brad put down his cup. “But she's a good marshal. She'll protect you with her life. Plus Bear will be staying at the house when his shift ends. He'll act as a buffer if you need one.”

That's the trouble. I don't want any of you putting your life on the line for me.

“I must have been sleeping pretty soundly. I never heard her leave our room.” Angelina took a sip of her coffee. Then trying to appear nonchalant she smiled at Brad. “And Dylan?”

“Dylan is right behind you.”

The deep tenor of his voice washed over her and sent a wave of warmth through her body. She couldn't stop a grin from breaking out on her face when she turned his way. She shouldn't be this happy to see him.
I'm trying to find a way to escape him. Remember?

“Good morning.”

He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, finishing the last button on his shirt, his hair still damp from a shower. He looked fresh and clean and devastatingly handsome.

Angelina remembered the scent he wore and wondered how it mingled with fresh soap. She had to fight with herself to stay seated and not move closer to find out.

“I'm surprised you're still here.” She picked up her cup and took another sip of coffee, more to give her hands something to do than because she was thirsty. “Isn't this your relief, too?”

Dylan came and stood beside her. His nearness was almost her undoing.

“I'm here for the duration. So is Bear. These marshals are in charge during the day. Bear will be back at night to help Selma during the night shift.”

Angelina glanced at the clock. “You couldn't have gotten much sleep.”

“Dylan can rest while we're gone.” Donna stepped between them and perched a hip on one of the stools. “You better grab some breakfast if you're hungry. We need to leave here about nine.”

Angelina blinked a couple of times. “Leave? Where are we going?”

“The US Attorney is meeting us in Atlantic City.”

Angelina's chest tightened.

“He asked us to bring you in about ten.”

“Why?” She didn't want to go into Atlantic City. She didn't want to leave the safety of this house...at least, not with them. She'd planned on spending her day trying to figure out a way to evade their protection completely.

“He's going to prepare you for your testimony.” Donna perched on a stool beside her. “Don't worry. It's standard procedure. I'll bet ten bucks with anyone in this room that we'll be in and out in less than an hour. Any takers?”

“I don't gamble.” Dylan poured a cup of coffee.

“You gamble every day only you bet your life instead of your money.” Her tone showed her annoyance that neither he nor Brad had taken her up on her bet. “Anyway...” She turned her attention back to Angelina. “The DA will go over the questions he's going to ask you in court so there are no surprises. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible so the defense team can't make you nervous or trick you into saying something you don't intend to say.”

Brad winked at her again. Maybe it was his idea of breaking the ice or something. She thought it foolish and a little bit annoying. His words made her realize he mistook her frown for fear.

“Don't worry. It'll be a piece of cake. You'll be so sick of hearing and answering the same questions over and over that you'll be able to do it in your sleep.”

“That's right,” Donna said. “We have a session with him both today and tomorrow. Then we have the weekend off to chill and relax before the big event. Maybe we can play a game of cards or Scrabble. Or we can rent a few romantic comedies and torture the guys. What do you think?”

Angelina's stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot. This was Thursday. The trial was only days away. If her father was going to make a move, then he would have to make it soon.

Her thoughts flew to Frankie. Was it possible Frankie had been the shooter Tuesday night? Maybe her father didn't know yet that she'd been found. Maybe he didn't know she was back in protective custody.

A heaviness cloaked her entire body.

Her father didn't reach his position of power without knowing
everything
.

“Oh, honey, relax. It'll be okay.” Donna patted her hand reassuringly. “You'll probably be the first witness called Monday morning. Then this whole thing will be over. In the meantime, we promise to take real good care of you.”

That's exactly what Angelina feared. That the marshals would do anything to keep her safe—even forfeit their own lives.

Angelina looked from one marshal to another. She liked Donna. She was sweet, thoughtful. Even wink-heavy Brad wasn't a bad guy. Maybe she was wrong about him. Maybe it wasn't a conceited wink. Maybe the poor guy had a tic. The thought made her grin.

She'd heard Bear snoring through the upstairs hall when she'd come out of her room. She remembered teasing him years ago about that snore. Apparently he, like Dylan, had chosen to stay for the duration.

And then, of course, there was dear old Selma.

Angelina couldn't find fault with Selma, either. She'd been right with everything she said. She'd betrayed them once before. Why should they trust her now?

A sadness, a heavy feeling of helplessness threatened to overwhelm her.

She knew her father. His life was on the line. He had to find her. He had to stop her. And there was no question that he would. The only question was when and how.

But Angelina had her own plans. She fully intended to show up in court and testify on Monday morning. In the meantime, she was going to do everything in her power to ensure that there were no dead marshals left in the wake when her father did make his move to try and stop her.

Her eyes flew around the room and then her gaze locked on Dylan. The intensity in his stare told her he knew she was up to something.

Yep. Dylan would be her hardest challenge. She'd duped him once. How was she going to do it again? He'd be watching her every move.

She forced her body to relax. She didn't want him to pick up on any excess tension or his radar would take over. She smiled at him and took another sip of her coffee.

His eyes squinted and a deep frown line creased his forehead.

She had to be careful. She had already raised his suspicions. She had to find a way to fool him again. And, yes, it would probably end his career and he would hate her for it.

But at least he'd be alive. And that realization made any doubts or second thoughts she might have about slipping away disappear.

She couldn't allow anything to happen to Dylan.

She didn't question her feelings or dare to ask herself why she cared. It didn't matter. She'd do whatever she needed to do to keep him alive.

She needed a plan.

* * *

“Dylan, you shouldn't have come. We could have handled this. You're going to be exhausted tonight.” Donna, sitting beside him in the front seat of the car, chastised him for the hundredth time that day.

“I'll be fine.”

“Sure. With what? Two or three hours' sleep from last night? I'm sure glad you're not protecting me.”

Dylan's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly so he wouldn't have the urge to grip her throat. “Knock it off, Donna. I'm fine. I got enough sleep and if I find myself getting tired tonight, I can catnap on the sofa. Bear and Selma will be on duty. Remember? So drop it.”

Donna raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, subject dropped. I'm just saying we could have handled this detail without your help. It's pretty routine you know.”

“Yeah,” Brad called from the backseat. “Like I told Angelina, it was a piece of cake.”

Dylan glanced into the rearview mirror. Angelina lowered her head and placed her hand over her lips to hide the snicker he saw. Apparently, Brad wasn't winning Romeo points with their witness and a certain satisfaction curled in the pit of his stomach.

Things had gone well, today.

The DA had thrown every possible scenario at her. Asked her the same questions over and over to the point of almost being harassment. Raised his voice. Tried to intimidate her. Tried to twist her words and throw her off her game.

Nothing worked.

Angelina remained cool, calm and collected. Her voice never wavered. Her story never changed. He was proud of her.

Now, if she could keep it together when she came face-to-face with her father in the courtroom, they'd be home free.

He had to admit he was worried about that little detail.

After their talk last night, Dylan had no doubt that Angelina truly loved her father. Testifying against him, knowing her testimony would probably be the deciding factor between a life sentence and death row, would be the hardest thing she'd ever been asked to do.

Could she do it?

Playacting with the DA was one thing. Sitting in open court in front of a judge, jury and her father would be something else.

He glanced again in the rearview mirror and studied her face. Something was bothering her. She'd been contemplative and quiet all afternoon. And, yes, it had been a tiring and taxing day but Dylan didn't think that was it.

She seemed to be lost in thought. Distracted. Almost as if she had a problem she was trying to solve.

When he could get a few minutes alone with her, maybe after dinner tonight, he'd try and get her to confide in him. He told himself it wasn't that he cared about her feelings and was worried about her. That had nothing to do with it. He was simply doing his job, covering all the angles, being ready and prepared for any occurrence.

He saw her grimace in pain.

Those pills the doctor had given them had helped take the edge off her headaches but her injuries were still too fresh for the pain to be gone. He'd have to remind her when they got back to take a couple more before dinner.

As it got closer to rush hour, traffic on the Garden State Parkway was picking up. Not yet congested but getting there. He'd have to keep his eyes more on the road and less on the rearview mirror.

A country-and-western song played on the radio. Donna sang the lyrics and tapped her fingers on her knee to the music. Brad kept trying to engage Angelina in conversation but she wasn't having any of it. For some reason, he found that something to smile about.

A glint in the rearview mirror caught his attention. The setting sun had hit the chrome on a motorcycle behind him. The biker weaved erratically from one lane to another as if he couldn't decide where he wanted to be. Dylan wondered if the man was driving under the influence.

The traffic on the Garden State Parkway flowed evenly. He didn't note any potential problems. The cars in the fast lane moved at a smooth and steady pace. In his right lane it had been easy to maintain at least two car lengths behind the pickup truck in front of them.

He glanced into his side-view mirror.

The motorcycle, still behind him, maintained its own distance. Seemed the driver had finally picked a lane, the fast lane of course, and was sticking with it.

Dylan relaxed and allowed himself a moment to admire the bike—a Harley-Davidson Road King Classic Screamin' Eagle. He hadn't been on one of those pieces of perfection in years. But once someone rode one of those powerful machines, it wasn't something they soon forgot.

He turned his attention back to the road ahead when he heard the revving of a motor as the biker moved out of the passing lane and pulled even with the bumper of their car.

“Dylan.” Brad's tone carried a warning.

“I see him.”

Dylan slowed down, hoping this guy was just showing off and would shoot ahead.

He didn't.

Dylan sped up. The bike kept pace.

A warning sensation slithered up Dylan's spine. Something wasn't right. Not by a long shot.

Revving the motor loudly, the biker moved from behind their car and slid up beside Dylan's door.

Donna slipped her gun from her holster and held it on her lap. Dylan knew protocol would have had Brad pull his weapon, as well. A quick glance in the rearview mirror and Brad had already pushed Angelina down on the floor in the backseat.