The Marshal's Runaway Witness. Diane Burke
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she wasn’t careful, but it lacked the warmth it used to hold.
She glanced away. She couldn’t afford to be careless again. Her life depended on it.
“I’ll ask you again...” She could feel Dylan’s eyes boring into her as he spoke. “Can you identify your shooter?”
“No. I didn’t see a thing. I was too busy running for my life.”
“Do you have any idea who might want you dead?” He chuckled but there was no humor in his tone. “Let me rephrase that. Do you have any idea which one of the many people your father has hired to kill you may have actually tried to do it?”
She shook her head and the sudden movement flashed pain through her head and made her nauseous.
“My father didn’t put a contract out on me.”
Dylan stared at her, disbelief written all over his face.
“He wouldn’t,” she insisted. “If I’d remained with you and testified against him, then he would have felt he had no choice. I understand that. But when I left witness protection and disappeared, he knew I was no longer a threat.”
“After everything that has happened, do you really believe that?”
“Yes, I do. But don’t you see, you’ve changed all that. If he finds out that I’m in your custody again, he’ll believe I’ve accepted witness protection. Now I will be a danger to him. Now he probably will put out a contract on me. You have to let me go. You have to let me get out of here.”
“That’s not happening.” They locked gazes. “Whether you testify voluntarily or whether the district attorney will have to call you as a hostile witness, we are still getting you to that trial and putting you on the stand.”
Angelina slid farther down her bed. She wished she could pull the blanket over her head and just make the world disappear. She’d been so careful. But in seconds her world had crashed around her and she didn’t have a clue how to make things right.
“I... I’ve already told you that I didn’t see anyone. I was walking with my friend Maria on the beach and then...”
Silence loomed between them.
“Please...” she whispered. “I need to rest. Please leave. I really can’t help you.”
“Leave?” Dylan’s mirthless laugh echoed loudly in the room. “Not a chance. I made the mistake of leaving you alone once before. Remember?” He moved closer so that only she could hear his words. “You lied to me.” His eyes darkened. “You walked into the bathroom, climbed out the window and took off. Made a fool out of me. Damaged my credibility with my boss.” He squared his shoulders and took a step back.
His voice hardened. “Did you really think I would forget? I haven’t forgotten anything.”
Heat burned her cheeks with shame and regret over their last night together, over the way she’d lead him on to think they were going to have their first romantic evening but had deceived him instead and ran away.
A variety of emotions flashed across Dylan’s face. He was as upset by this meeting as she was.
But how could that be? He was acting like the injured party. Is it possible she’d been wrong about her suspicions?
A twinge of conscience made her feel guilty. She hadn’t wanted to hurt anybody, especially not him. But even if she’d misread the note situation, she hadn’t been wrong about him letting the bailiff within arm’s reach of her. She had to keep reminding herself of the facts. US marshal or not, Dylan couldn’t keep his promise. He couldn’t be trusted to keep her safe. She’d had no choice but to run. And, if she wanted to live, soon she would have to find a way to run again.
Dylan appeared to recover quickly, the raw emotions that flitted over his face were gone and his features hardened like carved granite. But when he spoke his words were gentle. “I’m sorry about Maria.”
The tears Angelina had been fighting so hard to hold back flowed freely down her cheeks.
She remembered the shocked, empty look in Maria’s eyes, the weight of her body as she’d lowered her friend to the sand. She couldn’t imagine a day, didn’t want to imagine a day, without Maria in her life.
“Thank you.” Her words came out a whisper.
“Over the years, I’ve struggled with the possibility you might be dead. When you disappeared that night, I thought somehow your father’s organization had kidnapped you. It took me a while to understand that you fled on your own.”
Was that pain she heard in his voice? Could it be?
“I find it hard to believe you hid in plain sight for three years and didn’t run into the deadly end of a bullet before now.” Dylan’s voice softened. “I’m grateful you’re still alive.”
Angelina studied his expression. He seemed sincere. How could she know for sure? She had no faith in her ability to judge a person’s character anymore. If he were going to harm her, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Maybe Dylan had never been on her father’s payroll. Maybe she’d been wrong. Or maybe not. How could she know whether she could trust this man with her life or not?
* * *
If Dylan didn’t know better, he would think Angelina was afraid of him. He chided himself. Didn’t he know by now that she had that sweet, vulnerable act down to a science? He’d fallen for it once. He wouldn’t fall for it again.
He couldn’t believe she’d been able to survive on her own all this time. He’d carried a heavy burden of guilt for not being able to keep her safe every day since she’d disappeared. He’d been certain that one day he’d come across her dead body and he often wondered how he would ever face it if he did.
But she wasn’t dead.
She was alive and, although injured and hurting, he was certain she was warily looking for an escape route. He couldn’t let his guard down for a second.
The panic shining in her eyes reminded him of a helplessly injured and frightened animal. His conscience made him regret that he had to treat her so callously. But the memory of her setup and her betrayal was all it took to keep him on guard.
“Who knows I’m here?” She clasped his hand.
He felt the trembling in her fingers. The panic in her eyes made her appear vulnerable and terrified. She seemed barely able to hold it together and for a moment he felt sorry for her.
But only for a moment. He knew what she was capable of, after all she was her father’s daughter, and he would do well to remember it.
“I have to get out of here, Dylan. I’m not safe.” Her eyes pleaded with him.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. There are only a handful of people who know who you are—or where you are—and they are on a need-to-know basis.”
The flash of doubt on her face surprised him.
He pulled his hand away from hers. “Get some sleep. You need your rest.”
“You don’t understand. If anyone other than you and Bear knows that I am here, then my safety is already in jeopardy.”
Dylan glanced over his shoulder at Bear. “Did you get the protection unit set up outside the room?”
“Yep, 24/7. Detective Donahue loaned us some of his men. No one will be allowed into this room without furnishing proper identification.”
Angelina laughed mirthlessly. “You think a cop sitting outside my door is going to protect me? You think my father isn’t capable of corrupting a nurse or a doctor with stellar credentials to gain access to this room?” She flailed her arms. “How about the janitor mopping the floors and emptying the waste bins? It isn’t a matter of if my father can infiltrate this joke of protection you’re offering me, it’s when.”