Darby's Decision, page 20
Cooper followed up with a kick to his groin, before spinning away and once more following the pretty girl. This time, she seemed relieved to see him.
“This way.” Cooper grabbed her hand, tugging her around the corner. He knew this area of Gatlinburg better than most from living off the streets and working the tourist crowd. He captured the girl’s hand, tugging her to a narrow alley between two buildings.
She went along with him, her dark eyes wide with fear. Cooper took every shortcut he could think of to put more distance between them and the two men dressed in black.
He finally led her into a coffee shop located two blocks from his low-budget apartment. He figured the coffee shop would put her at ease more so than taking her to his private digs.
“W-who are you?” she managed when they snagged an empty table near the window.
“Cooper Orchard. Who are you?”
“Mia . . .” She stopped, bit her lip, and glanced away. “Thanks for your help. I should go.”
“Wait a minute.” He held up his hand. “Shouldn’t you call the police? Those guys were about to grab you.”
“I-I will.” She glanced around nervously. “But you need to stay far away from me.”
He stared at her. Mia was a pretty name, but he had a feeling it wasn’t her real one. Not that he was one to talk. His last name was fake too. As was his ID, driver’s license, and social security number. “I think it’s a little late for that. I just assaulted two men.”
“I’m sorry.” Her expression crumpled. “Truly, I feel terrible you had to do that. But this isn’t your problem. Thanks for your help, but you should go back to your sketching.”
He lifted a brow. “You noticed me sketching?”
She blushed, then frowned. “Go away, Cooper. Leave me alone.”
He didn’t understand what was going on with her, but no way could he simply walk away. He raked his gaze over her arms, relieved there were no needle tracks marring her skin. Prostitution? Sex trafficking? Maybe.
“Let’s head over to the closest police station. They’ll help you get away from those guys, find you a safe place to stay.”
“I can’t.” Her voice was a mere whisper.
He swallowed a wave of frustration. “The cops aren’t going to arrest you.” At least, he didn’t think so. Then again, he wasn’t sure what she was running from. Had she committed some terrible crime? Armed robbery? Manslaughter?
Murder?
It seemed unlikely, especially since her fear was too real to be faked. She must be a victim. So why not go to the cops?
“You don’t understand.” She slid off the stool. “Really, Cooper, I appreciate your help. But you’re better off staying far away from me.”
The smart move would be to let her go. To return to his sketching, hoping no one had stolen his stuff. He had rent to pay. Sitting here with Mia wasn’t going to bring in the cash he needed to live.
But he couldn’t walk away. Not from a woman in distress. “Okay, look. I’ll take you to my apartment. You can stay there while I go back for my things. We’ll figure out where to go from there, okay?”
Mia shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
No, he didn’t. Although it was obvious Mia was running from a couple of bad dudes. Two men he’d assaulted, not that he believed either one of them would report the incidents to the police.
Mia was in danger, and he couldn’t stand the idea of something bad happening to her. It was oddly reassuring that she kept trying to protect him. “I live nearby.” He met her gaze. “Don’t you think the best move right now is to hide out for a while? Disappear long enough to shake those guys loose?”
She hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to do just that and staying on the move. He could relate as he’d spent several months avoiding the police while struggling to survive. He and Trent had spent several years on the streets, before Cooper began using his sketching to make money legitimately from tourists rather than stealing from them.
Sketching didn’t pay as well, but he preferred working than running. Trent had gotten involved with a band, and for a while they’d continued to live together. Until the band had moved on to Nashville.
It had hurt Cooper to lose the company of his foster brother, but he’d made the best choice for his own well-being. Trent had done the same. He couldn’t blame Trent for taking a different path, for wanting something more. Even if that meant leaving Cooper behind.
He shook off the depressing thoughts. “Mia? My place?” It struck him she might be thinking the worst. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I promise I won’t take advantage of the situation.”
“And I should believe you, why?”
He liked the fighting spirit in her dark eyes. “Good point, we really don’t know each other. To be honest, there is something I’d like from you.”
Her entire body went tense. “No.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t let me finish. I’d like to sketch you.”
She frowned. “Why on earth do you want to do that?”
“I’m an artist, and you’re beautiful,” he answered honestly. “Just a sketch, nothing more, in exchange for you being able to hide out from those bad guys who tried to abduct you.”
She was silent for several long moments. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. A sketch.”
“Great.” Relief intermingled with anticipation washed over him. Mia had agreed to stay, at least for the night.
Technically, he’d lied about what he’d wanted from her. He wanted to understand what was going on, who she was running from, and why. He also wanted to protect her, which was a bit unusual, especially for someone who’d spent years looking after himself.
But for now, he’d settle for the sketch.
What in the world was she doing with Cooper Orchard?
Mia Royce knew she should find a way to ditch him. She was safer on her own. Well, maybe not, but Cooper was definitely much safer without her.
She was the one in danger. She had no right to drag an innocent guy into her problems. Into the mess that was her life.
Yet the chance of having a safe place to stay for a few hours had been too good to pass up. She’d called her US Marshal contact, Sean McCarthy, yesterday as scheduled, but she hadn’t heard back.
Which was strange as usually Sean responded very quickly to her calls for help.
Witness protection, better known as WITSEC, wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. How had Frank Germaine’s men found her so quickly?
The church.
She inwardly winced at the thought. There was more than one church in Gatlinburg, but apparently Germaine’s men had watched each of them in an effort to find her.
A tactic that had obviously worked.
Sean had counseled her not to go back to her old habits. That doing such a thing would make it easier for them to find her. And he’d been right.
Yet she needed God’s strength and support. Her faith was all she had left. Everyone else was gone. Dead or gone in a way she’d never see them again.
Lord, I need You. Please keep me safe.
“Mia?” Cooper’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“What?”
“Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to be afraid.”
It was far too late for that. Germaine’s men scared her more than anything on the planet. The irony was that Cooper didn’t scare her at all. He was a stranger, yet she still wasn’t frightened of him. Maybe because she’d seen him sketching on the sidewalk across from the church over the past two days. She glanced through the window. “You think it’s safe to head outside?”
“We’ll go out the back, I know one of the kitchen workers.” Cooper stood and held out his hand. He was incredibly handsome, wearing his blond hair longer than most men she’d known, his overall appearance being that of a magazine model rather than an artist. His topaz gaze was mesmerizing, she’d felt its impact even from a distance.
She took his hand, doing her best to ignore the zing of attraction. This was hardly the time or the place for such foolishness. Her plan was to stay with Cooper for one night. She’d sleep on his sofa and hopefully hear back from Sean McCarthy. The US Marshals would show up and escort her to yet another city, providing her yet another name.
The idea filled her with despair, but there wasn’t another option. She’d testified against Frank Germaine. Now his son, Frankie Junior, was determined to make her pay.
With her life.
Cooper guided her through the kitchen to the rear door of the shop. She was mildly surprised no one stopped them or asked what they were doing. Cooper must do this sort of thing on a regular basis.
Or maybe he came back here to see his friend on a regular basis. There had been two younger women working back there, both very pretty. Cooper looked like the type of guy who could have his pick of women.
He may have called her beautiful, but she knew that was likely a line. Something to convince her to let him sketch her. Maybe he needed practice or something.
The apartment building was small and could have used a bit of maintenance. Not that she was living in the lap of luxury these days.
Once, she’d gone to private schools and lived in the largest house in the neighborhood. Before she’d discovered her father was doing business with Frank Germaine. Illegal business.
Criminal activity that had ultimately gotten her father and stepmother murdered. Leaving her as the only witness to the crime.
“It’s nothing fancy.” Cooper had mistaken her silence for disapproval.
“It’s perfect.” She smiled. “Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate having a place to hang out for a while.”
His gaze bored into hers. “For a while? Will you still be here when I return with my things?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I won’t lie to you. My being here puts you in danger. But I promise I won’t leave without telling you.” Being honest was the least she could do.
“Okay. Thanks.” Cooper waved a hand to the miniscule kitchen. “Help yourself. I should be back within the hour.”
“I will.” She watched him go, then pulled out her disposable phone. The one Marshal Sean McCarthy had given her. When her second call went unanswered, her stomach twisted painfully, and she sank down onto the sofa.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Germaine’s men shouldn’t have found her here in Gatlinburg, and Marshal Sean should be answering his phone and making plans to come whisk her to safety.
The US Marshals had assured her she’d be safe with them. Explaining how they’d never lost a witness who followed their rules. The most important being not to contact anyone in her former life.
Not a single person, a friend, old college roommate, old boyfriend. No one.
And she had followed their rules. She’d cut off all ties to everyone she’d known back in Chicago. The only rule she’d broken was going to church. It was the one former habit she hadn’t been able to stop.
Logically, she hadn’t viewed going to church services to be a big problem since her location and identity here in Gatlinburg was supposed to be a secret.
A decision that had backfired in a big way. Her secret location was anything but. Germaine’s men had found her. How? She had no clue.
What if something had happened to Sean? The marshal wasn’t that old, maybe ten years her senior, but maybe he had an aneurysm. Or an aggressive form of cancer. A sudden heart attack.
She stood and paced the small length of the room. Every possibility that flashed through her mind was worse than the previous one.
Maybe Frankie Junior had found Sean and killed him to get the marshal out of the way. Leaving no one left to protect her. Had they known her contact with the US Marshals had been limited to Sean McCarthy? That in order to be safe no one else within the organization knew where she was? That she didn’t have another person to contact?
How long would it take the US Marshals service to realize something happened to Sean? How long before another marshal reached out to her?
Too long, considering Frankie Germaine’s men had already found her in Gatlinburg.
Which meant she had little choice but to get out of town, the sooner the better.
Before Germaine’s men could find her for a second time and make another attempt to kill her.
Laura Scott, Darby's Decision
