Love Inspired Suspense October 2015 #1 (51 page)

“I'd heard Frankie was stupid but if this is true I had no idea how stupid.” Dylan shook his head. “Baroni would never reward an underling for a hit he hadn't sanctioned, let alone one on his own daughter. If successful, he would have orchestrated his own death sentence.”

Selma nodded. “I agree. But there you have it.”

“And Maria?” Angelina twisted her hands together. “Did Frankie date Maria just to get close to me?”

She thought about how happy her friend had been in the beginning of the relationship. The thought that none of it was real, that Frankie had played on Maria's emotions for nothing more than information and proximity to her broke her heart.

“It looks that way,” Selma said.

“But why kill her?” Angelina couldn't hide the anguish in her expression.

“Maybe he hadn't intended to kill her.” Dylan shot her a sympathetic glance. “Both of you were standing close to each other on that beach, both of you were shot. It may have been as simple as Maria being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

A shaft of pain traveled through Angelina's body. A random act did nothing to ease the torment she felt that she'd had any role at all in her best friend's death. Sighing heavily, she looked back and forth at both marshals. “At least the worst is over. Bear is recovering. Neither of you were killed. Frankie is dead. Now we can relax until the trial on Monday. We're no longer in danger.”

“Are you kidding me?” Selma asked. She sat up straighter and locked her gaze with Angelina's. “Word on the street is that your father is more determined than ever to find you. Money is flowing. Big money. A small army is looking for you. Your father is not going to allow you to testify on Monday. Not if he can help it. You've never been in more danger than you are right now.”

SIXTEEN

“H
ere, thought you might need this.” Selma threw a quilted bag on the bed.

Angelina looked inside. Pajamas. A change of clothes. Shampoo. Lipstick. Moisturizer. She tilted her head and stared at Selma. She couldn't figure the woman out. One minute she'd be sarcastic, snippy and downright mean. Then she'd do an about-face and be thoughtful and kind.

“Thanks for these items.” She had to admit that sometimes she deserved to be on the receiving end of Selma's sharp tongue. An escape may have saved the woman's life but it would have hurt her career and no one seemed more career-oriented than Selma. She never spoke of having any family. The few friends she did mention were all fellow lawmen. To a person who put their job ahead of everything else, getting a black mark on her career could be a fate worse than death, she supposed.

Selma shrugged. “We fled the house with nothing but the clothes on our backs. I thought by now a little feminine touch might go a long way to making you feel better.”

Angelina smiled. “I didn't think you cared how I felt.”

Selma bristled. “I don't.”

She rolled her eyes.

“If you're happy, and maybe a little bit grateful, I might be able to rely on you to do the right thing.” Selma shrugged again. “A gal can hope.”

Angelina opened the jar of moisturizer and raised it in a toasting motion. “Thanks, again.” She didn't waste any time rubbing the precious cream on her hands and arms.

Selma sat on the edge of the bed and watched. The woman looked as though she wanted to say something.

“What?” Angelina pulled her knees up on the bed and waited.

“Bear frequently teases Dylan. He calls him a superhero.”

Angelina nodded. “Yes, I know. I've heard him, too.”

Selma stared intently at her. “Bear told me that you're Dylan's kryptonite.”

Color rose in her face. Did Bear really think that? Did he really believe that Dylan's proximity to her could be deadly?

Angelina looked away. “That's just silly. Dylan is not a superhero and I am certainly not kryptonite or any other rock or mineral.” She smoothed the moisturizer on her legs and tried to act as if Selma's words hadn't hurt.

“Dylan's not up to his job.”

Angelina recoiled with shock. “What are you talking about? Dylan's done a wonderful job. He's kept me safe at great risk to himself. How dare you criticize him!”

Selma smiled like a cat who'd enjoyed a dish of heavy cream. “So it's not one-sided. You have feelings for him, too?”

Angelina frowned and went back to moisturizing her legs. “I don't have to have feelings for anyone to appreciate the job they're doing.” She hesitated. “I'm grateful for the work you've done, and Brad and Donna and Bear. Everyone has put their life on the line for me.” She looked into Selma's eyes and spoke sincerely. “I'm grateful to all of you. It's a hard job and, I imagine, a thankless one.”

Selma leaned back against the headboard and folded her hands in her lap. “I'm not looking for gratitude. I'm just doing my job. But I needed to know if Dylan's feelings were returned. I can see by your immediate defense of him that they are.”

“What kind of game is this?” Boy, the woman annoyed her. She was grateful for the protection but she certainly wouldn't miss her when her services were no longer needed. “Besides, what makes you think Dylan has feelings for me? He's been nothing but professional through this entire ordeal.”

“Any idiot can see the way he looks at you. He's fallen for you and it's written all over his face.”

“You have an active imagination, Selma.” She closed the lid on the jar and placed it back on the nightstand.

“Really?” Selma studied her. “You wanted to leave. You had a perfect opportunity to do it.”

Angelina glanced her way but didn't comment.

“I'm sure with the injuries that he sustained he must have slept for a while, maybe even lost consciousness a time or two.”

“So?” She stared down at her hands.

“You could have run, disappeared again. After being forced off the road and then having the safe house torched, no one would have blamed you for trying to get as far away from all this craziness as you could—including me.” Selma caught her eye. “But you didn't. You stayed. You tended Dylan's injuries. You watched over him. You never left his side.”

“He was hurt. What did you want me to do, let him bleed to death? Anyone else would have done the same thing.”

Selma smiled. “No. Anyone else would have been scared and run for the hills. You care as much for him as he does for you.” She leaned closer and pointed across the room. “That's why you are going to climb out that window and leave with me.”

Angelina's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe what she'd heard. “What are you talking about? I'm not climbing out of any window with anyone and especially not without Dylan.”

“If you care about him that is exactly what you will do.” The conviction in her voice gave Angelina pause.

“Dylan is doing his best to hide it but the man is in pain, severe pain.” Selma stood and paced the room. “He wouldn't let me see his chest wound but it doesn't matter. I can see the way he cradles his left arm close to his body. I see the grimace on his face when he's moved too fast or twisted the wrong way.”

“He was shot in the chest. Of course he hurts.” Angelina didn't know where this conversation was headed but she didn't believe she was going to like it.

“I wasn't kidding when I told you that your father is spending a substantial amount of money in many different venues for leads to your location.”

“Well, he doesn't know this location. Only Bear knows.”

“Only Bear?” Selma frowned at her. “That's how I found you. Right?”

Angelina's face blanched. “You followed the transmitter. You have to destroy it. Now!”

“I already have.” Selma spoke to her as if she was a youngster incapable of understanding grown-up stuff. “I destroyed it when I went out to the car to bring in this bag.”

Angelina breathed a sigh of relief. “Great. So what's the problem? We're safe here.”

“Yes, we are. But what about tomorrow?”

She sent Selma a baffled look. “Tomorrow?”

“We have to leave for the city tomorrow morning so we can be ready for court first thing Monday. What do you think is going to happen when we roll into New Jersey? Your father's territory? We won't last a minute before we'll be spotted and someone will turn us in. What do you think will happen to Dylan then?”

“I don't understand.”

“He's injured. He's hurting. Don't you think I saw it in his eyes when he held that rifle on me? Why do you think I didn't take it as a viable threat and walked right past him? Because he isn't a threat to me or anyone else in his condition. And he certainly is not a threat to the people your father has looking for you.” Selma sat back down on the edge of the bed. “But they are a threat to him.” She folded her hands and leaned forward. “Listen to me. He can't handle his weapon properly. He can barely stand the lightest jostling now before he's hit with waves of pain. What do you think is going to happen if he has to run? If he needs to duck down or dive behind something for cover? He won't be able to do it and will be the first one to fall in a gun battle. Do you want that to happen?”

Images of the shoot-out at the house raced through her mind. Running. Crouching behind vehicles. Her stomach turned over.

“He'll die trying to protect you. Bear is right. You are his kryptonite.”

The truth in Selma's words stole Angelina's breath away. She couldn't let anything happen to Dylan. “What do you want me to do?”

“Leave with me. Tonight. After he falls asleep.”

“He'll hear us before we get ten feet down the drive.”

“Not if he's asleep.” Selma took a small vial out of her pocket. “This is a mild painkiller, works as a sedative. I'll slip this into a drink and make sure he takes it.”

Angelina stared at the brown bottle. “You came prepared with a sedative?” Suspicion shook her bones. “Why would you do that?”

“We had four men burn down our safe house, cover our exits, and open fire on us. Bear was critically injured. If I hadn't fallen and cracked my head on that concrete I probably would have been shot, too. It stood to reason that one of you, if not both, had been hurt in some way during the hail of bullets we endured.” She lifted the bottle. “I brought these painkillers from home when I stopped to pack a bag just in case.”

She tossed the bottle to Angelina. “Read the label. It's my leftover prescription from about nine months ago when I dislocated my shoulder. They made me tired so I stopped taking them.”

A quick glance at the label on the bottle confirmed Selma's words.

“I didn't know what I would find when I got here. I hoped no one was hurt. But if either of you were, then they'd be better than nothing.”

Angelina handed her back the bottle.

“Listen to me,” Selma insisted. “I know you don't like me. Truthfully, I'm not too crazy about you, either. But I'm good at my job. Some people have families, second jobs, hobbies, other interests. I have my job.” Her words demanded Angelina's attention. “My job is to get you to the federal courthouse in Camden in less than twenty-four hours. In one piece. Safe and ready to testify. That is exactly what I intend to do.”

Selma sat quietly and waited for her to process everything she'd been told. As much as she hated to admit it, it made sense. Dylan would not back down from any confrontation on any level in his effort to protect her. But at what cost? Selma was certainly not her friend. But she was a diligent federal marshal who prided herself on doing a good job. She wanted to get her to that trial. The least Angelina could do was hear her out.

“What are your plans?”

“Simple. I'm going to slip a couple of these sedatives in Dylan's coffee. Once he falls asleep, we leave.”

Angelina felt a headache, a huge one, coming on. “Where will we go?”

“The courthouse.”

Angelina shot her a surprised look. “In Camden?”

Selma nodded. “We'll time our arrival at dusk, harder for anyone to spot us, and we'll spend the night in one of the empty offices. I admit it won't be the most comfortable night of our lives but it won't be the first time I've slept on a floor.” She chuckled. “It will probably be the first time you've roughed it but you can do it. I have faith in you.”

“It's Sunday. The courthouse will be locked.”

Selma held up her cell phone. “Did I mention that I have a friend of a friend that can take care of that little problem for us?”

Angelina released a long, low sigh. “What if you're wrong? Dylan never sleeps during the day. If the sedative doesn't work and he's awake, even if we make it to your car and take off, he'll be on our tail in minutes.”

“Not if we hide his keys.” Selma grinned. “I saw them hanging on a peg by the front door. I'll lift them. He'll never notice they're gone until it's too late.”

“We can't leave him here without keys or anyone knowing the location of this cabin.”

“We'll leave the keys on your bed. Eventually he'll come in here to look around and he'll find them. By that time, we'll have a good head start and he won't have a clue where we are. Neither will anyone else. We'll be safe for one night.”

“Dylan's not going to like this.” Angelina worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

“He'll be mad for a minute or two. But he'll meet up with us at the courthouse. Once you testify and this situation has come to an end, he'll get over it.”

“I don't know,” she said. “I betrayed him once. I don't want him to think I did it again.”

“Then leave him a note with the keys. Cover it with
X
's and
O
's for all I care. At least, I will have delivered you safely to the courthouse and Dylan will be alive and well.”

Angelina stared hard at the woman. She couldn't refute the logic of anything Selma said. “Okay.” Reluctant but determined to keep Dylan safe, she nodded. “Let's do it.”