The Secret Brokers (16 page)

“That doesn’t sound like Gwen. The woman is either on a horse or in the kitchen. When she was married to Doug Marsh, more than a few people I know begged her to do catering for their parties. Maybe she has just been distracted by the trial.”

“Yes, you forgot to mention the Darryl Robertson trial to me. It would have been nice to have that information before I walked into this situation.”

“I just found out about it from our mutual friend. I didn’t know Ed Pioth was a key witness. I would have told you Dallas, if I had known.”

“Feds have a tag team out here all day and night. They say it’s to protect her during the trial.” Dallas looked to the gate for the black Ford.

“Our mutual friend told me about that as well,” Lance added.

“I’ve got something else you may want to pass on to our mutual friend. The feds are hoping this trial will shake him out of hiding. I’ve been asked to accommodate them with times and places our friend might appear; otherwise I might have certain problems come up in my business.”

“I’ll pass it on,” Lance assured him.

“And tell our friend, Dan Goldvarg, that the feds have been keeping an eye on him and his wife, Jenny.”

“And how did you come by this news?” Lance asked.

“I’d hate to say anything that could be taken down by third parties listening in.”

“I’ve got it.” Lance went quiet for a moment. “Watch your back out there. You could be in danger.”

“I’m keeping my eyes open for any surprises.”

Lance chuckled. “I was talking about Gwen. She’s the one you need to watch out for, Dallas.”

Dallas hung up the phone while Lance’s laughter was still ringing out on the other end of the line.

Dallas considered what Lance had said about Gwen’s cooking skills. There was something else going on with the woman that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She was a walking contradiction, and yet he couldn’t nail down what it was about her story that didn’t ring true.

He stood from his chair as he kept his eyes on Gwen, still trotting the red mare around the clearing.

“Tonight I think Ms. Marsh and I will have a heart to heart over dinner. That should definitely do the trick.”

***

It was after six when Gwen came down the stairs from her shower and sauntered into the kitchen. Dallas was standing at the counter chopping up lettuce, cucumbers, and broccoli for a garden salad as she eased up to his side to inspect his progress.

“You sure you should be wielding a knife?” she asked, pointing to the bandage on his left index finger.

“Do you want do it?” he curtly replied as he held up the knife to her.

Gwen raised her hands to him. “No, it’s your dinner.” She went to the oven and opened the door. “So what’s on for tonight?”

“Nothing much,” Dallas answered with a shrug. “Chicken breasts with a simple sausage and breadcrumb stuffing, and a garden salad.” He paused. “I figured since you were the baker you would probably want to make the biscuits. I was never very good at baked items and Lance told me you were a fabulous baker so…
.
” He nodded to the oven.

Gwen’s features paled before him. Her blue-green eyes nervously darted about the kitchen.

“I told you I don’t like to cook for strangers.”

Dallas gave her a cheeky grin. “But I’m not a stranger, anymore.”

She glowered at him. “I don’t cook well under pressure, Dallas. If my biscuits don’t measure up to your standards, I’ll be embarrassed. Besides, there’s plenty of food and I—”

“But I would like some biscuits with the meal,” Dallas interrupted her. “I don’t see what the big deal is, Gwen. You have a slew of baking products
,
and are reported to be quite proficient in the kitchen. Just make some biscuits.”

“If you’re so hot for biscuits, you make them,” she insisted, raising her voice.

Dallas kept his eyes peeled on her. “Or perhaps you don’t know how to make biscuits, is that it?” He paused as he put his knife down. “Would you feel more comfortable making the dressing for the salad?”

“Stop it, Dallas,” she growled.

He took a deep breath and directed his eyes to the vegetables on the cutting board before him. “What is it
,
Gwen?”

But before Gwen could respond, a long, angry tirade of barking could be heard coming from the barn.

“Harley!” Gwen shouted and tore out of the room.

“Gwen, wait!” Dallas hollered as he followed her out of the kitchen.

He grabbed her arm just as she was about to go barreling out the front door. The barking was interrupted by a horrible yelp and then there was silence.

Gwen pulled against his arm. “Something has happened to Harley. I need to go to him.”

“Wait here,” Dallas ordered. “Let me get my gun. Then we will go together. All right?”

Gwen took a breath and nodded.

Dallas let her go and started for his leather jacket on the sofa, but just as he reached the edge of the living room, Gwen bolted out the front door, and down the steps toward the barn.

“Goddamn it! Gwen!” he yelled as he ran after her.

She headed across the clearing to the barn as Dallas ran to catch up with her. Right before she came to the barn entrance, he snagged her arm and shoved her to the ground. He covered her mouth with his hand as she struggled against him.

“Shh,” he whispered into her ear. “Listen.”

Gwen’s body went still when she heard the muffled voices inside of the barn.

Dallas let her go and helped her from the ground. “Stay here. I’ll go around back.”

“I’m coming with you,” she whispered.

Dallas shook his head and pointed adamantly to the ground for her to stay in that spot. But Gwen ignored him and made a move for the barn. Dallas jumped in front of her and then waved her behind him. She nodded and followed behind Dallas until they stood next to the front entrance to the barn.

As the voices grew louder, Dallas could make out two men arguing. He silently cursed his stupidity for leaving the house without his gun, and then he remembered the black car parked at the gate. He turned to Gwen.

“Go get the feds,” he murmured in her ear. “Tell them someone is here.”

“You go get the feds,” she argued in a low voice. “I want to find out if my dog is all right.”

Dallas rolled his eyes. The woman was beyond belief. Her life was being threatened and all she cared about was her dog. He decided to enter the barn to try and get a closer look at the intruders. As he moved inside, he spotted the faint outline of the large dog lying in the shadows on the other side of the back entrance. He was about to turn to Gwen, when she shot out from behind him and ran toward the back of the barn.

Three successive gunshots erupted inside of the building. Dallas hit the ground as his eyes anxiously searched the barn for Gwen. The horses were neighing frantically all around him. As he crawled forward, hugging the barn floor, Dallas prayed the agents parked at the gate heard the gunfire. He needed back up in order to get Gwen safely out of there. Dallas finally caught sight of her, crouching against one of the stall doors just inside of the entrance. Harley’s motionless body was lying next to her.

Two figures suddenly emerged from the shadows of the rear entrance. Dallas checked Gwen’s position once more, and his gut flinched when he noticed that the two men were about to stumble over her. He quickly crawled across the aisle floor toward the back of the barn and placed himself between Gwen and the armed men. Hiding next to a bale of hay, Dallas was about to jump the man closest to him when beams of bright light penetrated the darkness of the barn.

“FBI, drop your weapons,” a man’s voice called out.

Dallas ducked behind the bale of hay, knowing what would happen next.

A brief volley of gunfire sounded like thunder echoing inside of the barn. The horses neighed and kicked at their stalls. Dallas took the opportunity, while the intruders were busy with the agents, to run to Gwen’s side and cover her body with his.

After the gunfire ceased, several tense seconds passed as Dallas felt Gwen’s breath rise and fall beneath him.

“Ms. Marsh, are you all right? It’s Agent Taylor.”

Dallas rolled off Gwen. As soon as Dallas moved away from her, Gwen grasped her left arm, rolled over to her side, and began whispering a flurry of expletives. Dallas immediately noticed the dark patch of blood covering her left shirtsleeve.

“Taylor,” Dallas shouted. “We’re over here! Gwen’s been shot!”

Dallas was sitting beside Gwen on a bale of hay, inspecting her wound. The bullet had grazed Gwen’s left upper arm. She appeared shaken and pale, but, to Dallas’s relief, was not seriously injured.

He removed his long-sleeved shirt and wrapped it around her bleeding arm. “You’re damn lucky it didn’t hit the bone,” Dallas scolded. “That was stupid, Gwen, really stupid. How in the hell am I supposed to protect you when you run into harm’s way like that?”

“I had to check on my dog,” she said in a frail voice.

The tears welled up in her eyes and Dallas felt his heart soften. “I’m sorry. I know you loved that dog,” he told her in a soothing tone.

Agent Taylor came up and worriedly looked Gwen over. A tall man with a lumbering gate, short-cropped, blond hair, brown eyes, and a round face, Taylor reminded Dallas of someone who should be herding cattle on a ranch, and not hunting for bad guys with a gun.

“There’s no sign of the two men. We found some blood stains over there.” He nodded to several bales of hay stacked next to the tack room. “But we checked the grounds outside and they must have hauled ass out of here.” He nodded at Gwen’s arm. “Ma’am we really should take you to the hospital to be checked out.”

Gwen shook her head. “No thanks. The bullet just went through the skin. I’ve got everything I need at the house to take care of it.” She stood up quickly and placed her hand to her head.

Dallas jumped up when Gwen went deathly white in front of him. He wrapped his arms about her, just as her legs gave out.

Taylor came to her side and helped Dallas set her back down on the bale of hay. “Ms. Marsh, I insist. We need to take you to the emergency room.”

She waved away his concern. “I’m fine. I just stood up too fast.” She took in a few deep breaths and then her eyes wandered to the back of the barn. “I need to see to Harley,” she mumbled.

“I’ll see to him later, after I know you safe,” Dallas assured her.

Agent Hickman joined them, still carrying his gun in his hand. The smaller of the two agents, Hickman was wider and more muscular than Taylor. He had deep blue eyes and light brown hair. He looked down at Gwen as he holstered his gun inside of his jacket.

“If you don’t mind ma’am,” Hickman said in a deep southern drawl. “I’d like to take care of Harley for you.”

Gwen stared at Hickman. “You were the one who fed him chicken wings, weren’t you?”

Hickman smiled for her. “We were friends.”

Gwen gave the man a slight nod of her head. “Thank you.”

Dallas and Taylor exchanged concerned glances.

“You two need to consider relocating,” Taylor advised.

Dallas nodded his head. “I understand.”

Gwen looked up, her eyes hurt and angry. “I’m not leaving my horses,” she declared.

Taylor ran his hand over his short-cropped, blond hair as he gave a heavy sigh. “Ms. Marsh, please. I can’t do my job if you won’t cooperate.”

Dallas held up his hand to the agent. “Why don’t you let me get her back to the house, fix up her arm, and then we can talk about this.”

Taylor reluctantly nodded. “All right.”

Dallas placed his arm about Gwen’s waist and lifted
her
from the bale of hay. “Come on, Gwen. Let’s see to that arm.”

He helped her out of the barn and back across the clearing to her home.

Once Dallas closed the front door behind him, he turned to see Gwen go pale again.

She placed her hand to her head. “I feel dizzy.”

Dallas picked her up in his arms and headed for the stairs. “Let’s get you into bed before you pass out on me.”

As Gwen nestled her head against his naked chest, Dallas could smell the hint of jasmine in her silky, blond hair. When he reached the second floor landing, he walked over to her bedroom door and nudged it open with his foot.

After he had set her down on her blue and white bedspread, he went to the armoire and pulled out gauze, hydrogen peroxide, and tape. He came back to the bed and placed the supplies next to her.

Gwen pulled herself up in the bed. “I can do this. Why don’t you go and help Hickman bury Harley and then you check on all of the horses for me.”

“Gwen, you already checked each of the horses twice before you let me see to your arm. Right now, I need to stay with you.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Gwen, you’re not fine.” He removed his bloody shirt from around her arm and inspected the gunshot wound. “You’ve been shot at by two men who probably came here to either scare you or kill you. Either way, your life has been threatened. We can’t stay here. There is too much ground to cover and too many open places that a sniper could take a shot at you. I can’t do my job if we stay here.”