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“It would be in your best interest if you did,” Jace said.
That gained Tomas’s attention. “How’s that?”
“Who tried to kill you today?” Brian asked.
Tomas narrowed his gaze. “Why do you think it was an assassination attempt on me?”
“One of the explosive devices was under the table you were sitting at,” Jace said.
Eyes widening with shock, Tomas clenched his jaw.
Gavin moved to the bedside. “If the judge hadn’t noticed the bomb under her bench, you would be dead right now.”
“And so would she,” Tomas shot back.
Brian fisted his hands. “Did you do this? Was this an attempt to kill the judge?”
“Why would I want to kill myself?” Tomas’s brow furrowed. “That makes no sense.”
“Then who wants you dead?” Brian asked once again. They needed to find the culprit and verify that the judge wasn’t the target.
Tomas shrugged. “Any number of people.”
“We can’t protect you if we don’t know who has it out for you,” Jace said.
“Why would you want to protect me?” Tomas’s voice held contempt. “I thought my demise would make you marshals happy.”
“As much as we want you out of business, we’re not in the business of killing people,” Gavin assured him.
Tomas’s eyes hardened and zeroed on Jace. “Tell that to Marco.”
“What happened to your son was self-defense,” Jace said, his tone harsh. “And you know it.”
Tomas’s lips twisted. “So you say. Why should I believe you?”
Jace shook his head. “You’re unbelievable. You’ve seen the bank’s video footage. You know your son tried to kidnap Abby Frost with the intent to kill her in some weird revenge scheme because she and I escaped your compound and testified before a grand jury to what you and Marco did to us.”
Abby and Jace had been forced to flee Washington State when Tomas had sent men to kidnap Abby in the hopes of drawing out her biological father, who had witnessed Marco commit murder.
“I know no such thing,” Tomas replied, his dark eyes flashing with anger and grief.
Needing to keep the situation from spiraling beyond the issue at hand, Brian said, “Someone has taken control of your cartel. Or what’s left of it.” He watched closely for Garcia’s reaction.
The older man made a dismissive noise and would have waved off the notion if his hands weren’t handcuffed to the bed. “No way would my people allow a rival cartel to take over. You’re wrong.”
“Who’s calling the shots then?” Gavin pressed.
Brian could see Tomas’s mind working.
“Maybe we should just put you in general lockup until the trial starts,” Jace said. “If you’re so unconcerned by the threat against you.”
Panic flared in Tomas’s eye. “You wouldn’t dare. I wouldn’t last a day in general.”
“Then help us help you,” Gavin said.
“I’ll give you a name, if you move me to Alderson federal facility.”
Brian scoffed. “No way.” Tomas wasn’t a celebrity with money and power. He was nothing more than a thug.
“I’ll talk to the attorney general, and we’ll see what we can do, but only if you give me a name,” Gavin said.
Surprised his boss was willing to make any concessions to the man who’d nearly killed his son, Brian stared at Gavin. Really?
Tomas sighed, seemingly weighing his options. Then, finally, he said, “Maria Montoya.”
Brian exchanged questioning glances with both Jace and Gavin. Maybe Sera would have come across the name in her research on Garcia’s cartel.
“We need a little more than that,” Gavin said. “Who is she? And why is she trying to kill you?”
“If what you say is true, that somebody is trying to take over my organization, then it would be her. She’s the only one who has any legitimate claim.” Tomas winced. “Rather, illegitimate claim.”
Brian played the word illegitimate through his brain. “Your daughter?”
Garcia’s gaze snapped to Brian. “Give the marshal a gold star.”
“Where do we find this Maria Montoya?” Gavin asked.
Shrugging, Tomas said, “How should I know? I haven’t seen her since she was an infant.”
The man was despicable. Brian had no patience for anyone who shirked their responsibilities. His own parents fell into that category. Divorced multiple times and never really too interested in the son they’d produced.
“I want a guarantee,” Tomas insisted.
“I’ll talk to the AG. That’s as good as it gets.” Gavin turned on his heel and walked out the door. Jace and Brian followed.
“Do we believe him?” Jace asked. “Nothing in our investigation brought up that he had an illegitimate daughter hidden away somewhere.”
“Get Seraphina on it,” Gavin said. “Brian, stay close to the judge until we verify that this truly was a hit on Tomas Garcia.”
“You got it, sir.” He had no plans to leave her side. He relieved Conlan at the door to the judge’s exam room.
A few moments later, the door opened and the doctor walked out.
“How is she?” Brian asked.
“You’ll have your hands full with that one,” the doctor told him with a smile. “We stitched up her wound. She’ll be fine once the swelling goes down. No signs of concussion. She’s good to go.”
“Understatement,” Adele said as she stepped out of the room still wearing her black judge’s robe. “Can you tell me where I can find my staff?”
“The nurse will give you directions.” The doctor walked away.
The nurse informed them that Rachel Brown, the court reporter, was in surgery. Brian elicited a promise from the nurse to call with an update. After visiting for a few minutes with the court bailiff and then her judicial assistant, Brian insisted it was time to leave.
“You’re exhausted and it’s starting to show,” he told Adele.
“Thanks,” she said without much heat, which only confirmed to Brian the woman was losing steam fast.
They took the elevator to the third floor and stepped through the sliding-glass doors into the parking garage.
A white sedan sat idling halfway down the parking aisle. Shadows darkened the front windshield, obscuring the driver. Wariness set off alarms in Brian’s system.
Tucking Adele into his side, Brian placed his hand on his weapon. “Back inside, now.”
The driver’s-side window lowered, a black muzzle appeared, and the driver fired. The loud retort echoed off the stone walls. Bits of concrete spit up at their legs. Adele gasped. Heart jolting, Brian shoved her toward the safety of the glass doors and was gratified she didn’t hesitate to run.
Pulling his weapon free, he returned fire, hitting the sedan and shattering the front windshield. The car reversed, spun 180 degrees, swiping the end of a luxury coupe, and shot forward, disappearing as it sped out of the parking garage with an ear-piercing squeal of tires.
Replacing his weapon in its holster, Brian grabbed his phone, called Dispatch and reported the attack, giving the dispatcher the make and model of the sedan as well as the first three letters of the license plate.
“Brian?”
He turned to find Adele standing in the hospital doorway. Her topaz eyes were wide with shock.
Moving swiftly to her side, he ushered her farther into the hospital. She trembled beneath his hand.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Someone tried to kill you. Again.”
FOUR
The roar of blood rushing through her veins prevented Adele from registering Brian’s words. His hand at her elbow firmly propelled her further away from the hospital parking garage where, just moments before, someone had shot at them.
If Brian hadn’t shoved her toward the hospital entrance, she could have been killed.
He could have been killed.
His words finally made sense.
Someone tried to kill you. Again.
Emotions clogged her throat. Her chest tightened, squeezing her lungs and restricting her breathing. She gulped for air and reached for the wall, needing something to support her, to keep her upright. Brian’s hand on her elbow tightened, an anchor in a storm.
Someone tried to kill her.
Again.
She lifted her gaze to meet Brian’s. “You believe the bombing at the courthouse was meant for me?”
He didn’t answer, but the grim set of his mouth and the hard glint in his eyes confirmed what he didn’t verbalize. Someone wanted her dead. Why? Who?
The realization hit her like a wrecking ball. Until this moment, she hadn’t really accepted that her life was in danger.
In a rush, the air trapped in her lungs swooshed out. The world went sideways. No, she was tilting.
Brian gripped her biceps. “Stay with me. You can do this. Breathe.”
The sounds of thumping feet penetrated beyond the pulse pounding in her ears and sent a fresh ribbon of fear winding its way through her and tying her up in knots. Brian pressed her back against the wall, pivoted and used his body as a shield. He reached for his weapon. Her lungs seized. Nausea roiled in her stomach.
Two marshals, Jace and Gavin Armstrong, rushed out of the stairwell. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing three hospital security guards. The men eased out with weapons drawn.
“Whoa, it’s okay,” Jace said to the security guards. “US marshals.” Jace skidded to a halt in front of Brian. “Dude, we heard gunshots.”
Brian’s shoulders relaxed and he holstered his weapon.
Despite the apparent lack of immediate danger, Adele couldn’t take in air. A buzzing inside her head had her muscles tightening.
The men crowded around them. Their questions came fast and furious.
“Did you see the shooter?”
“Are you hurt?”
“Where did they go?”
The urge to flee was a palpable thing, but there was nowhere for her to run with her back against the wall. The rumble of Brian’s voice moored her in place.
Police sirens echoed off the concrete parking garage and assaulted her ears. Her head pounded. Moments later, San Antonio police officers flooded into the entryway with additional questions.
The cacophony of voices battered her, conjuring up images from the past. There had been so much blood. The campus security guard dead at her feet. Police officers pressing in, bombarding her with questions. She hadn’t been able to speak. Her throat had closed from the horror of what she’d been through, preventing her from explaining. She’d hyperventilated and had to be sedated. The terrifying scenes played like a flipbook through her brain, going faster and faster.
“Adele. Adele.”
Brian’s insistent voice reverberated through her, drawing her back to the present horror of being shot at and almost being blown into debris on the courthouse lawn. She still couldn’t breathe. She clutched at her throat.
Brian’s concerned face swam before her eyes. Sweat broke out on her back. A tremor worked its way through her. She was going to be sick.
She pushed at Brian, forcing him to step back, allowing her space, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
Slipping past Brian, she bumped into the closest security guard like a pinball off a guardrail. She regained her footing and tore down the hospital hallway, needing to find a safe space, chased by the knowledge she was about to unravel. All the familiar signals sparking in her body tormented her.
She tried the handle of a door. Locked. She kept moving, desperation clouding her vision. From behind, she could hear Brian calling her name, but she couldn’t respond. Didn’t dare stop. She needed to be alone. His thunderous footsteps as he charged down the hall after her drove her to move more quickly. The next doorknob turned in her hand and she flung the door open. An empty supply room.
She rushed inside, but before she could close the door and turn the lock, Brian was there, filling the doorway. Light from the hallway made him appear menacing, intimidating, before he closed the door behind him. Irrational fear filled her. A scream built inside her chest. She clamped a hand over her mouth and shrank further into the supply room.
The overhead light came on with her motion. She backed into a supply rack, knocking toilet paper and tissue boxes off the shelves to rain down on her head. She sank to the ground to sit among the scattered paper products, pulling her knees to her chest and curling forward like a pill bug.
Please, oh, God. Please, oh God. Please, oh God. The plea whispered through her brain, through her being, and she shuddered. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. Another wave of nausea washed over her as the sickening realization smacked into her. She gagged.
She’d almost cost Brian his life. Another hero would have been lost because of her.
Big, strong hands gently stroked down her arms, smoothed her hair from her face. A callused hand lifted her chin. She squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to reveal her inner torment.
“Adele, you’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Brian’s soft, soothing tone was meant to comfort.
A sob escaped her.
He didn’t understand. This wasn’t about her. He had protected her, but he could have died.
A fingertip traced the outer edge of her ear as he pushed a lock of hair back. “Adele, I need you to hold it together. We’ll get through this. Trust me. But I need you to be strong.”
She’d heard those words before. Her father telling her to be strong. Her lawyer telling her to be strong. Her mother and her friends all wanting—no, needing—her to be strong.
In the dark days after the attack in college, when she had finally found her voice, the mantra You have to be strong had been a lifeline. Only, the damage had been done. A man had died, and she’d been left with the horror of memories and panic.
But now she could do something to prevent a future tragedy.
She opened her eyes and stared hard at this attractive, caring man who had saved her life. Rationally, she knew he was trained to put himself in the line of fire. He was a man of action, a man who ran toward danger instead of away. Having someone protect her was a necessity. Hadn’t she grown accustomed to seeing the bailiff in her courtroom every day?
As a prosecutor and now a judge, she’d become familiar with the animosity directed at her, but the difference this time was that someone was actively trying to harm her with no regard for collateral damage. But who? Why? And what if Brian paid the ultimate price?
Pushing his hand away, she scrambled to her feet. “You have to go. I can’t do this with you. You could have died. I can’t—I can’t—” Her words faltered, lodged in her throat. The rising panic once again threatened to unravel her.
Brian’s arms snaked around her, pulling her to his chest. Shock had her stiffening. Her hands lay trapped at her sides. She arched back, trying to break his lock on her. But he held her firmly, gently.
“No one died.” His soft voice threaded through her like silk.
It was only by the grace of God they all had survived the explosion, but Rachel was still in critical condition. All because someone wanted her dead.
“I know this was traumatic for you,” he continued, his voice wrapping around her, cozy and comforting. “But you’re safe. I’m safe. Please, trust me.”
Despite his assurances, she shuddered and tilted her head to stare up at him. “But you could have died. Don’t you get it? I can’t let something happen to you.”
A lopsided grin spread across his face. Her knees threatened to give out. How could she find him attractive at a time like this?
“Darlin’, you don’t have to worry about me. My job is to keep you safe. You’re the priority.”
Frustration swamped her and she groaned. She shook her head, a protest rising. But before she could put voice to the words to convince him he was wrong, the door to the supply closet opened. She shrank back.
Marshal Gavin Armstrong stuck his head inside. “Are we good in here?”
“The judge is suffering from shock,” Brian replied. “A nurse?”
“You got it.” Gavin disappeared, shutting the door behind him.
“I don’t need a nurse,” Adele grumbled, though even to her own ears there wasn’t much heat in her words.
“Of course not. But humor me, please.” Brian soothed a hand down her back.
The rhythmic motion calmed her nerves. Her limbs turned languid. The comfort and security he offered was more than she could resist. She melted into his arms, her cheek resting against his chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized he had on a Kevlar vest beneath his shirt. The knowledge wiped away the last of her panic.
Her arms slipped around his waist and she clung to him. But soon she’d have to let go. She couldn’t cling to him outside of the closet. She had to figure out a way to survive her fear alone. Something she’d struggled to accomplish for longer than she’d care to admit.
* * *
Brian’s heart twisted in his chest. Adele was worried about him. Her panic stemmed from a fear he’d die because of her. Not one utterance of concern for her own safety. How rare. And totally touching.
He tightened his hold on her. It was his job to protect this beautiful and kind woman. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe. There was no doubt in his mind that she was in danger. Someone had tried to kill her twice. Though the bombing at the courthouse had been made to look as if the whole proceedings had been in jeopardy, having the driver of the sedan shoot at Adele made it very clear she had been the intended target to begin with.
If this was some kind of trick by Tomas Garcia, what did he hope to gain by eliminating the judge? A new judge would be assigned to his case. Did he just intend to kill every judge in the state? That was senseless. But then, Brian wasn’t sure how stable Garcia was. Some mysterious daughter trying to kill him? Did he really expect them to buy the outlandish tale?
