Forced to Hide, page 15
He was going to be even more anxious when she reminded him about tomorrow. She walked the short distance to where Brian was cleaning the stall. The sound of the metal shovel scraping across the concrete pad beneath the straw and debris left by the horse grated on her nerves.
She leaned against the stall opening. Watching the way his muscles beneath his shirt bunched and moved with his effort was enthralling. The man was strong and handsome. A good man with a big heart. “Is there something troubling you?”
He paused, resting his hands on the top of the shovel. “As a matter of fact... Somebody’s trying to kill you. We’re stuck here on a ranch with a bunch of teenage girls who giggle way too much. This isn’t a vacation. And—” He turned away from her and began shoveling again.
“And what?”
Pausing again, but not turning to look at her, he said, “Look. This isn’t some reality break from our lives. We need to keep things professional. And it’s really difficult when we’re so cooped up.”
She stared at his broad back. The blue chambray shirt hid the scars she knew marked his skin. “We were out in the open for the last few hours. How can you say we’ve been cooped up?”
He pivoted to face her. “Look. I like you. Way more than I should. We kissed. That can’t happen again.”
A flush of excitement and confusion filled her veins. Was he saying he wanted to kiss her again? “Why not?” She pushed away from the stall door and walked toward him. “I like you, too. That’s not a crime. We’re both adults. It’s okay to like each other.”
He set the shovel against the wall and stepped past her to walk down the center aisle of the horse barn, the heels of his worn cowboy boots echoing on the concrete.
Stunned that he’d just walk away had her blood boiling. Grabbing onto the pink cowboy hat on her head, she hurried to catch up to him. “Brian, I don’t understand. What’s gotten into you?”
“You.” He made a gesture with his hand encompassing the whole camp. “This place.”
Still not grasping his strange behavior, she said slowly, “Okay, I get it. You’re a man of action. This waiting is really hard for you. But you don’t need to be rude and snap my head off about it.”
Brian halted and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I just need some space.”
“Fine. Space you can have.” Not understanding him at all but extremely irritated by his insufferable vagueness, Adele went into the barn. But she paused. What was she doing? Letting his disgruntled mood chase her back inside?
She whirled around, finding Brian still standing there, staring after her. She marched up to him and got right in his face. “Tomorrow is Richard Overstreet’s parole hearing. I’m going. Make it happen.”
Once again, she marched away from him and into the barn, but this time it was on her terms.
She heard him call out, “As you wish.”
She fisted her hands and ducked into the nearest stall. She kicked at the clean piles of wood shavings covering the floor. She didn’t understand him, would never understand him. Men! He was not her problem. She needed to get through tomorrow. Why hadn’t the marshals, the FBI, the ATF and the rest of the alphabet soup agencies found out who wanted her dead?
This wasn’t fair.
Someone was trying to kill her. Brian was acting so weird. She was falling for the man. Her breath hitched. Was she really?
Yes.
So not fair.
A small voice inside her head whispered, God never promised life would be fair. Only that He would be with you.
She took a few calming breaths, hanging on to that sentiment as she returned to grooming Starburst. “At least you want my company.”
Maybe she needed to stick with animals rather than men. So much less complicated.
* * *
Brian paced on the back porch of the ranch house. He’d changed for dinner into clean jeans, clean boots and a Western-style plaid shirt. A fresh Stetson sat on his head. He paused every once in a while to look out at the camp scene where the teenage girls scurried back and forth from their cabins to the facilities. He watched them morph from grubby horsewomen into cleaned-up young ladies who looked more like they were ready to go out on the town than to have dinner in the main house with the family.
Coming here had been a mistake. It had been a mistake for his boss to assign him to protect Adele. It had been a mistake taking her to the lake house. It was all one big giant mistake. He should’ve let Sera take over when she’d offered.
But deep inside, Brian acknowledged letting anyone else take over hadn’t been an option. Not because he didn’t trust his friends and colleagues. He did, implicitly.
No, the reason he’d agreed to the assignment, the reason he hadn’t let Sera take over, was that he was falling for Adele and he was helpless to stop it.
He didn’t want these feelings crowding his chest. He didn’t want the glimmer of hope for a future where they could be together.
She thought her judgment was faulty when it came to men. What about his judgment? Would he end up like his parents, married and divorced so many times he’d lose count?
He wasn’t going down that road. The best way not to, was to never start.
It ate at him that they hadn’t been able to discover who wanted Adele dead. They had gone through her files and given a long list of names to the FBI, ATF, DEA and their own tech expert. No suspect jumped out as the culprit. Many of the names on the list either alibied out, had already passed from this world or were just too far away to be the one wreaking havoc on Adele’s life.
That didn’t mean it couldn’t still be Garcia. Or someone in the cartel hoping to stop the proceedings. Sera had said she had several leads on finding Maria Montoya but, so far, nothing had panned out. The daughter of Tomas Garcia was exceptionally good at evading law enforcement. Brian’s gut clenched. Did she have someone in the San Antonio PD or FBI, ATF, DEA—or the marshals service who was feeding her intel?
What about Overstreet’s brother? A military man who would definitely have the know-how to build a bomb. But, according to Gavin, Trevor Overstreet had been on base when the courthouse blew up and when the explosive device had been planted beneath their SUV.
And then there was Ortega. What was up with the senator? He had been hounding the US marshals since the moment they’d taken Adele away from her home, wanting to know where she was and if she was safe. According to Gavin, John Ortega was becoming more and more insistent that he know where she was. Because he really had feelings for her?
Gavin and Jace had interviewed everyone in Ortega’s office, and no one knew anything about giving a courier an envelope full of anthrax. That didn’t mean one of them couldn’t be lying. They just had no proof. But why would Ortega want to hurt Adele? It didn’t make sense. What did make sense was that Ortega was controlling and he wanted Adele for himself. Brian was not going let that happen.
Yeah, right, like Brian had any control over what happened to Adele once this assignment was over.
But Brian did want control. Well, not control necessarily; but he wanted to be a part of her life, which was not going to happen.
“You are going to wear a hole in my deck,” Victoria said as she came out the back door.
Brian halted abruptly. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“What’s eating at you?” Victoria cocked her head and pinned him with her gaze. “I’m a good listener. And I’m told I give good advice.”
Brian had no doubt that Victoria, who had a degree in psychology and at one time had been a family counselor, would be able to give him good advice. He just wasn’t ready to share all the fuzzy emotions clouding his thoughts.
Victoria gave him a little smile and stepped to the railing so that he had a side view of her. She was a beautiful woman. Petite with dark hair held in a braid down her back. Jace got a lot of his good looks from his mother.
“I think I can guess what’s going on with you.” Victoria turned to face him.
Brian wanted to squirm under that intense stare. Even if Victoria barely reached his shoulder, she was an intimidating woman when she wanted to be. He waited, silently wary of what she might say.
“You care for the judge. But you’re letting what your parents modeled for you be the litmus test of how relationships work. They were broken people. Though, to be fair, we all are broken in some ways, but you aren’t like your parents.”
“Thanks.” He wasn’t sure what to make of her statement. There were times when he felt broken beyond repair.
“Trust yourself. Trust the judge. Personally, I trust both of you.” She walked to the door and opened it, but paused to say, “Please, go tell the teens dinner is about to be served.”
Brian groaned. “Do I have to?”
“What are you, twelve?” Victoria grinned. “You’re not afraid of some teenage girls, are you? No wonder you’re afraid of the judge.”
“I’m not afraid of the judge.” Far from it. The teenagers, however, had him shaking in his boots. The gaggle of girls was like a group of gnats flying around, giggling and whispering. It was unnerving.
Victoria shook her head and stepped inside. Brian hesitated on the first stair leading down toward the teenager camp. The door behind him opened again. He swiveled to find Adele. His breath caught. She wore a long-sleeved frilly dress that hung to the tops of her borrowed cowboy boots. A belt at her waist accentuated her curves. Her auburn hair was loose about her shoulders and the slight sheen on her lips drew his gaze.
“I hear you need some help?”
His chest expanded and he held out his hand. “That, I do.”
FOURTEEN
After a rowdy and giggly dinner, Brian’s ears would never be the same. The only male in the room, he had quietly listened to all the girls chatter. He escaped as soon as he could to the front porch, far from the hubbub, and relished the quiet of the Texas night. The February air was cool but not biting. He sat on the porch swing and gripped the chain in his hand.
The door opened and Adele stepped out. “May I join you?”
His heart leapt into his throat. Unable to form words, he patted the seat next to him.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Adele gingerly sat on the swing. She tried to make it rock but his planted feet prevented the swing from doing its job.
“Do you mind?” She nudged his feet with her own. He lifted his boots off the floor enough to allow the swing to rock gently forward and back. The rhythm was both soothing and distressing. For a flash of a moment, he could see them as an old married couple, sitting on the porch just like this, watching the night sky.
“I hate to bring this up,” she said. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”
Whatever peace he’d felt dissipated. “I talked at length with Gavin and Jace and Sera. We have a plan. We will leave the ranch the way we came in. By helicopter. We’ll go to headquarters.”
“Good to know. This time I’ll take some antinausea medicine.”
He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’ll be fine. You did well on the way here.”
She turned her hand so that their palms matched and her fingers wrapped through his. His heart tugged with tenderness and his conscience whispered he should let go, but he couldn’t bring himself to break the contact. He liked holding her hand. He liked the way they fit together. He liked her. More than liked.
You care about the good judge. Victoria’s voice rang through his head.
Yes, he did.
“So how do we go from the headquarters office to where the hearing is being held?”
“Sera’s going to dress up like you and go out the front door, get into an official caravan, and they will drive her away, while you and I will put on disguises and go out the back door.”
“That sounds like a very good plan.”
“You can thank Sera,” he said. “My idea was to pressure the justice system to move the parole hearing. But the parole board wouldn’t bend.”
“Well, they do have protocols. But I am surprised they wouldn’t postpone. Truth be told, I’m more surprised there’s even a hearing. Richard must have a good lawyer.”
“You could not go,” Brian said.
“Avoiding the situation won’t make it go away.”
His respect for her grew. She was an amazing person. He stood and pulled her to her feet. “We should probably get some rest.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. Brian didn’t even try to fight the longing to wrap her in his embrace.
After a moment, she stepped back. “I know you want to keep things professional, unemotional, between us. But right now, you’re my anchor. Can you continue to be that?”
“I can be that.” And so much more. His heart squeezed tight.
“Good. Tomorrow is going to be very hard for me. I need to know I can count on you.”
“Whatever you need.”
Seeming satisfied with his answer, she disappeared inside the house, leaving him wondering if she asked for his heart, would he be able to resist?
* * *
The next day, after the helicopter had transported Adele and Brian from the ranch to the marshals’ headquarters in San Antonio, Adele was fitted with a flak vest and a US marshals’ windbreaker. She was dressed as the other marshals were. A baseball cap with the marshals’ logo hid most of her hair. She didn’t usually wear hats, the sensation was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. She’d used bobby pins Sera had given her to keep the shorter strands of hair tucked beneath the brim of the ball cap. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and the khaki pants were a bit too big, but a belt held them up.
Sera was the only one not wearing the standard-issue attire. Posing as Adele, Sera wore a wig with long red hair to hide her face, and a judge’s robe to hide the flak vest and tactical gear beneath.
Stomach churning with worry, Adele struggled to believe this was going to work. Sera was taller than she was. Not to mention her skin tone was much more sun-kissed. Sera slipped on a pair of big sunglasses, which did a good job of hiding her dark eyes and most of her cheeks.
The plan was simple enough and, if all went well, would work. Or so Brian assured Adele. Sera and the convoy were going to the makeshift courthouse after an announcement went out this morning via the media that Judge Weston would be taking the bench.
Once Sera and the convoy left, Brian and Adele would slip out the back, walk across the street and down to the federal building a block away from the burned courthouse. There the parole hearing would be held.
Brian had already confirmed that Richard Overstreet had been transported to the jail in the basement of the federal building.
Adele hadn’t been joking when she’d told Brian this would be hard for her. Facing Richard again after all these years and reliving those moments was not something she wanted to do. But she was certain the threats on her own life had nothing to do with Richard. Why wouldn’t somebody have ambushed the transport and tried to orchestrate an escape for Richard? That would have been easier than trying to kill a district court judge.
“All right, people.” Gavin Armstrong addressed the twenty or so US marshals assembled in the room. “Look lively. Make a big show of getting the judge to the SUV. I want lights and sirens. I want all eyes on the convoy while Brian and Adele go out the back.”
There was a murmur of agreement as everybody filed out of the armory, escorting Sera, to the convoy, leaving Brian and Adele and Gavin and one other man behind.
“This is Lucas Cavendish.” Gavin introduced the man who was dressed in casual clothing. His square jaw was covered in trimmed long stubble, his hair hung longer than what one would expect a US marshal to have. “Lucas agreed to come aboard and help us today. He just transferred in from Florida.”
Brian shook the man’s hand. “Glad to have you on our team.”
Lucas gave Brian a chin nod. “I’ll have your back.” To Adele, the man turned his deep gray eyes on her and gave her a very deferential nod. “Your Honor.”
“Thank you, Deputy Cavendish.”
“You can call me Caveman,” Lucas said. “My military call name. Still getting used to the whole ‘deputy marshal’ title.” He slanted a glance at Gavin.
“Lucas has only been on the job for six months. He’s a marine gunnery sergeant”
“Florida didn’t work out?” Brian asked with a wary note in his voice.
Adele’s own anxiety ratcheted up with the question. She held her breath as she waited for the answer.
“Something like that.”
Apparently, Lucas wasn’t big on talking. Adele wanted to know the man’s story. If he was going to help protect her, she at least deserved to know why he wasn’t still on his original post. “Can you elaborate?”
Lucas and Gavin exchanged a glance. Gavin gave a nod.
“I was part of a joint task force with ATF. We brought down an arms dealer in Miami. My cover was blown. I needed to get out of there fast. All the players think I’m dead.”
Somewhat mollified, Adele nodded. “Thank you for letting us know.”
Gavin looked at his watch. “Get a move on. You two walk over. Lucas will follow.”
“Why not drive?” Adele asked.
“Access to the federal building is limited due to construction,” Gavin said. “It would draw more attention if we allowed just your vehicle through, thus defeating the purpose of the decoy.”
Her nerves jangled and her courage at facing Richard faltered. Could she do it?
Putting a hand to Adele’s lower back, Brian urged her forward.
Her feet felt cemented to the floor. It took all her inner strength to walk with Brian.
Adele was thankful for the sunglasses as they stepped outside the US marshals’ building. The February sun was low in the sky. A few drops of rain pinged off the weatherized jacket she wore. She was thankful for its warmth as the wind blew, sneaking beneath the collar.
