Chapter Eleven

Linc sat in the camp chair, legs stretched in front of him and his head tilted back so he could view the last of the stars. The time was maybe half past five in the morning and the eastern sky held only the faintest hint of dawn. He’d awoken with Mikayla entwined in his arms, his face buried in her hair, and a morning erection that had left him aching. Forcing himself to let her go and crawl out of his sleeping bag had seemed prudent, if highly unsatisfying.

Desire had subsided to a level he could function with and now it was like a toothache, always there but in the background. While not a cure, a cup of coffee might make him feel at least somewhat human, but he knew fumbling around with the gear would wake Mikayla.

He gazed at the stars, collar pulled up, his hands deep in his pockets, and mulled over the realization that the discontent, the restlessness that had plagued him for…god, he didn’t know how long, but certainly from before he’d been shot…had disappeared. That Mikayla appeared to be the catalyst for that peace should have been alarming, but in the calm of the morning it wasn’t. He felt a renewed purpose. Finding Donny, destroying the cartel, was important, but not as vital as building a relationship with Mikayla.

A rustling from inside the tent followed by the zipper on the flap let him know she was up and around. She emerged wearing a hooded sweatshirt, the thin stretchy pants she’d slept in, and shearling boots on her feet.

She stepped out from under the awning into the early morning darkness, tilting her head back as he had. He looked up again. The vast expanse of the moonless sky stretched overhead. The Milky Way, invisible at home because of city lights, glowed in a misty swath stretching into the universe.

“The stars are beautiful.”

“Yeah. This is what people who never get out of the city can’t understand.” He kept his voice low because the predawn darkness seemed to call for quiet.

“And it’s what keeps us coming back.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling of affinity, that they got each other.

She tugged the zipper of her sweatshirt higher and hunched her shoulders.

“Where’s your coat?”

“At home in my closet.”

“You’re so organized, I’m surprised you didn’t pack something warmer.”

He caught her shrug in the faint light. “I didn’t expect it to get so cold.”

He got to his feet and crossed to the tent, reaching inside to grab the blanket. He stopped in front of her and wrapped the wool around her shoulders. “Sit down and get warm, I’ll make the coffee.”

***

Day broke with the sun rising in a cloudless sky. Birds chattered, swooping and chirping in the chill morning air. A jay perched on the wire handle of the lantern, tilted its head at Linc, then flew off with a noisy squawk. Mikayla had walked to the showers and Linc set about straightening the campsite in anticipation of packing up and leaving. He put the lantern in a plastic bin, snapping the lid in place. In the tent, he rolled his sleeping bag and folded the blanket before stowing both in the Jeep, then began the process of dismantling his own tent.

Mikayla had been quiet through breakfast. Sad, he thought. Probably missing the asshole boyfriend. She’d made pancakes. He knew they were for him as she’d hardly eaten any, and the leftovers lay stacked on a paper plate, covered with foil.

He’d help her pack her gear, get them ready to head out. He felt antsy. He wanted to get on the road, far away from any place where Zecena knew to look for her. He hadn’t been kidding about her staying close to his side, and with two vehicles, even if she followed him to Salt Lake City in her Subaru, that wasn’t close enough by a long shot. He hoped she’d see the sense in his plan for her car, but he had a feeling he was in for some serious resistance.

The sound of a vehicle broke the quiet and Linc watched a dark pickup turn from the highway into the campground. That meant the road was clear for traffic to get through. They’d be able to leave, but Zecena’s crew could also get in.

Mikayla trudged up from the showers. The black leggings she wore tucked into boots made her legs look a mile long. She’d done something to her hair. Instead of the curly mass, she’d twisted it into a pretty braid that left a few curls loose to frame her face. He was starting to get that he liked her looks no matter what she was wearing or how her hair was done.

“Let me take a look at your shoulder.”

“It’s fine.”

“I need to check, make sure there’s no infection.”

She gave him a look that was difficult to decipher but turned around. Holding the front across her breasts, she hitched up the back of her loose-knit top. He helped ease it up far enough to reveal the wound. He tried to ignore the smooth expanse of skin across her back, the column of her spine, and that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

As if reading his mind, she said, “My bra strap was making it sore.”

“Right.” While she held up her top, he examined the injury. She’d taken off the gauze bandage and while the butterflies were peeling a little around the edges, they still held, and the wound looked healthily pink.

“I’ll check it again this evening, but it looks good for now.” He let her shirt drop and stepped back. She picked up the French press and poured the last of the coffee into her mug. Linc glanced up when he saw the pickup he’d spotted earlier rounding the bend in the road and come to a stop next to Mikayla’s Subaru. The muscles in his shoulders tightened and he moved in front of her.

First thing that morning he’d belted on his Glock .40 caliber, and tucked an extra clip in his back pocket. Securing his marshal’s star to his belt had felt as normal as tying his shoelaces. He hadn’t really expected trouble to simply drive up and park, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He put a hand on Mikayla’s arm to keep her behind him as a tall form stepped out of the truck.

“Stay back.”

She shifted to look around his shoulder.

“Damn it, Mikayla, let me—”

She surged past him. “Brady!”

He tried to grab her but she was fast. She ran toward the man, leaping forward to launch herself at him. The guy opened his arms to catch her, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

A friend. Not a threat. Irritation rippled through Linc. He’d awoken with her in his arms, and that following an intense couple of days together. All in all, he was feeling more than a little proprietary. Linc moved forward when the guy held on for too long before releasing her.

She kept her hands on his shoulders, a big grin bringing out her dimple. “What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Yes, always.” Her smile dimmed. “But not if you’re checking up on me. What’s going on? Why are you here?”

Linc moved to stand squarely in the guy’s line of sight and had the pleasure of seeing him narrow his eyes.

“Who the hell are you?”

Linc smiled at the tone. “I could ask the same of you, pal.” The guy was tall with a rangy build. Linc shifted his gaze from the man to Mikayla, then back again. Now that he got a good look, he could see a resemblance. Hair of the same shade somewhere between dark red and brown, and the same slightly almond-shaped eyes, though Mikayla’s were a deeper, darker green.

“Brady, this is Lincoln Jameson. He’s camping in the site across the road from me. Linc, this is my brother, Brady O’Kane.”

Her brother. Linc felt some of his tension ease. A brother was good. A potential ally, one more person to help protect Mikayla. He was wearing an unzipped navy blue jacket with a familiar patch on the shoulder and “O’Kane” stitched on the front. Linc stuck out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Brady offered his and the men shook.

“Brady, what’s going on?”

“Look, Mike, we need to talk.”

“What is it?” She grabbed her brother’s arm. “Is it Mom? Or Penny? Is everyone okay?”

“The family is fine.”

Linc saw it then. Brady had come to give his sister bad news, and he’d bet his marshal’s badge he knew what it was. In the excitement of seeing her brother, Mikayla seemed to have forgotten about Wellington. He saw her face fall the instant realization dawned.

“I already know about Peter.”

Brady ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. Sorry, sis. I told people not to contact you. I didn’t want you to find out in a text.”

“You drove all the way up here to tell me in person?”

“Yeah.”

Mikayla went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. I didn’t hear it through a text. Linc told me.” Brady’s gaze cut to him, and Linc saw it snag at the badge on his belt.

“That’s a marshal’s star. You’re a US Marshal?” He turned to his sister. “You’re camping with a marshal?”

“We’re not camping together, or at least hadn’t been. We were camping in the same campground and Linc kind of got drawn into a mess. My mess.”

Brady studied Linc. “You’d better explain what’s going on.”

“Don’t go getting all big brother on me, Brady. I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

He flicked a glance at his sister. “First, your fiancé was murdered so you’re going to have to deal with me being concerned. And second, if you tell me what’s going on, you’ll try to make whatever it is seem less important so I don’t worry about you.” He jerked a thumb toward Linc. “He won’t bullshit me.”

“You can be supremely annoying, you know that?”

“But you love me anyway.”

“Lucky for you.”

Linc watched the byplay, and since it wasn’t so different from what he experienced with his siblings, he understood they’d gotten to the stage where they could talk. “You want coffee?” At Brady’s nod, he filled a pot with water and set it on the stove.

“Did you drive through the night?” Mikayla stacked the leftover pancakes in a pan on the stove, put the foil over them, and turned it on low.

“No. I stayed in a motel in St. George, then headed out around four this morning. I wanted to get here early since I didn’t know how long you were staying at this campground. I didn’t want to miss you and have to chase you all over the state.”

Mikayla rummaged in the plastic bin and withdrew the syrup while Linc spooned coffee into the French press.

Linc nodded to indicate the patch. “You’re with Cal Fire?”

“Yeah. Stationed in Julian.”

“He’s a captain. We’re so proud.” Mikayla batted her eyelashes at her brother as she set a plate of warmed pancakes on the table.

“Cut it out.” He grabbed a fork and sat. “Thanks, Mike.”

Swallowing a mouthful of syrupy pancake, he directed his attention to Linc. “What’s a US Marshal doing with my sister?”

“Linc’s not with me. I told you that.” She sat in a camp chair and propped her feet on the bench.

“Then how come there’s only one tent and he knows his way around your things?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my business, so tell me straight.”

“Brady O’Kane, I swear I’ll smother you in your sleep if you keep this up.”

Linc brought the coffeepot and three mugs to the table. “Your sister was attacked by a guy with a knife, and there’s reason to believe he was sent by the men who murdered Peter Wellington.”

Brady jerked his head around to stare at his sister. Mikayla leaned her head against the back of her chair and closed her eyes. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Were you hurt?”

“Some bruises. A nick on the back of my shoulder with the knife. I bloodied his nose.”

“Jesus, Mike.”

Linc sat at the table while the brother demolished the leftover pancakes. As Brady ate, Linc related the events of the past two days, from the attack on the trail, to the visit to the sheriff’s office, and finally what he’d learned from Seth about Wellington. Brady’s attention didn’t waver for a second.

“So the bastard who attacked her has been arrested.”

“He’s in custody, and bail has been set at one hundred thousand dollars. But I don’t think Lopez is too anxious to get out since he failed at his job. He might be safer in jail.”

Brady narrowed his eyes. “His job was to kill my sister?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. Mikayla is a material witness who can place a member of the Zecena cartel at Wellington’s home shortly before his murder.”

“What the fuck?”

Mikayla drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs, and buried her face. Her voice sounded muffled when she spoke. “I didn’t see him get killed. But I was at his house before he was killed, and I saw the two men Linc thinks did it. I’m a witness.”

“And the guy who attacked her was sent by them?”

Linc nodded. “That’s my guess.” He eyed Mikayla and the feeling that she was his returned with force. He needed to remind himself that days before, she’d been engaged to be married to another man.

“And what was a US Marshal doing on a hiking trail at exactly the time my sister was attacked? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Your sister was handling herself pretty well, but a knife changes the odds a bit.”

Mikayla lifted her head. “If you hadn’t done that flying kick thing, I was going to get him to lunge at me and try to use his momentum to push him into the river.”

“Jesus, you don’t think he might have taken you with him? Or taken a slice out of you on the way? You should have run.” The memory of Mikayla tangling with Lopez still made Linc’s blood run cold.

Brady gaze tracked between Linc and Mikayla before repeating his question. “And why were you on the trail?”

“I’m on leave. Supposed to be recovering from an injury. I saw Mikayla head out for a hike, and then Lopez taking the same trail ten minutes later. He looked suspicious, out of place.”

“I see. You were watching her, got concerned when this guy took the same trail, and followed him to make sure she was okay?”

Shit, it made it sound like he was interested in more than her safety. Which he was, but still. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Brady stared at him, eyes narrowed. Then he grunted, seeming to come to some conclusion. “Good.” He rose to put the paper plate from his breakfast in the garbage bag. “What’s the plan?”

“The Marshals Service wants to place Mikayla in witness protection, at least until Paco Zecena is arrested and brought to trial.”

“Who is Paco Zecena?”

“He’s boss of the Southern California arm of the Zecena cartel, and brother of El Jefe in Mexico. Zecena’s MO is to let others do the dirty work, so the most likely scenario is that the guy your sister saw with him that night killed Wellington on Zecena’s orders. But he was there and that’s huge. For years the marshals and the FBI have been trying to get something we can pin on Paco Zecena. This is the best break we’ve had.”

“And you’re fucked if you think you can use my sister to get that asshole.”

“We’re not using her. We’ll protect her and make sure justice is done. She was there that night and can place Zecena at Wellington’s house minutes before his murder. With her testimony, we’ll nail this bastard.”

“Son of a bitch.” Brady muttered the oath under his breath. “You’re saying witness protection would keep her safe until this Zecena character is behind bars.”

“That’s the idea.”

“I don’t want to go into witness protection. I have a job, among other things. I don’t want to put my life on hold for months.” Mikayla’s jaw took on a stubborn set.

“Or longer.”

“I can’t be imprisoned in a house, doing nothing, for ‘longer.’ No way. I’m not going through that again.”

“If that’s what needs to be done to keep you safe, Mike, that’s what you’ll do.” Brady addressed Linc. “What does this mean for my sister?”

“It’s not happening, Brady. Linc is delusional.”

Linc ignored the comment but wondered what she’d meant by “going through that again.” He answered Brady. “It means she gets protection from the Marshals Service with a minimum of two deputies, twenty-four hours a day, at a safe house.”

Brady drummed his fingers on his knees and Linc figured he knew what Brady was thinking. If it had been Ellie, Linc wouldn’t be trusting that some stranger could protect her as well as he could.

Mikayla slumped back in her chair, letting her feet drop. She’d been through a rough couple of days. She’d recovered some of the color in her cheeks, but her eyes held the hollowed-out look of someone dealing with trauma. Despite that, he was pretty sure she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Sure enough, she held up her hand like a traffic cop to stop the conversation. “Look, as much as I appreciate two alpha men trying to figure out how best to protect me, I have a say in what happens to me.”

“Not if it means you’re unreasonable about it.”

“You know what you can do with reasonable, don’t you, Brady?” She smiled sweetly at her brother.

Linc had to hand it to the guy, Brady jumped in with both feet. Better he got his balls busted because no matter what she said, Linc would make sure Mikayla was under marshals’ protection.

“How about you chill and realize you don’t always get your way.” When she opened her mouth with what Linc was sure to be a pithy comeback, Brady held up his hand. “I can always play my trump card, little sister.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t test me.”

They stared at each other for a loaded moment. Mikayla finally leaned back in her seat, apparently resigned. “You fight dirty.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” Apparently satisfied he had her acquiescence, Brady nodded at Linc. “Let’s hear what the marshal has to say.”

Linc had to guess that Mikayla was feeling confined, but at the moment it couldn’t be helped. “It’s too dangerous for Mikayla back in California. Makes it too easy for the cartel. I want her to come with me to Salt Lake City. There’s a Marshals district office there and we’ll find her a safe place until I can locate Zecena.”