Fuming, Lori stood on the sidewalk.
How had the conversation in the car spun so far out of control, so freaking fast? She’d let one little thing slip, and Nick picked it up and ran with it like a contestant on The Amazing Race.
That stubborn, willful, gorgeous man.
She was overwhelmed and scared and didn’t need him ambushing her, too. Not when she was trying to catch her breath and make it through this the best way she knew how.
Nick shut his door and stalked over to her. “We can table the conversation for now, but don’t think it’s over,” he said, irrepressible as always.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Your ego couldn’t handle that.”
Incredulity eclipsed the banked indignation on his face. “My ego?”
“Yup. Because you weren’t the one to decide end of conversation. You’re like a dog with a bone, digging around in my business. My life.” Trying to unearth my secrets. They were hers for one more day and then all her dirty laundry would be aired. “You and I both know full well that you don’t need any of the answers to your questions to protect me.”
He huffed at that. “You’re right. I don’t need the answers to do my job. But I do need them for my peace of mind.”
Lori’s brain was spinning to keep up with Nick’s words. “What are you talking about?”
“To hell with the trial and the Marshals Service for a second. This—” he gestured between them “—is the first time I’ve had that I give a damn feeling for someone.” His voice lowered, resonating with a gravelly heat that turned her center molten. “Yes, it’s ill-timed and inappropriate, but if that bothered you, then you wouldn’t have kissed me back. And woman, you kissed the hell out of me.”
He pulled her into his arms, and she was tempted to run her fingers through his thick hair and absorb the security of his embrace, to yield to him in every way. But she couldn’t.
“What I’m saying is, I’m crazy about you, Lori.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. His thumb feathered across her cheek.
Heart racing, she gaped at him, overcome by his words and the uncharacteristic emotion that shone on his face.
“I know you like to dunk your peanut butter sandwiches in milk,” he said. “That you won’t eat Chinese food without chopsticks. That you hate carnations because they remind you of your mother’s funeral. That charity work uplifts you, renews your spirit. It’s your way of giving back since it was the Helping Hands Foundation that saved you during those rough years with your dad.”
This was killing her. She pressed her trembling fingertips to his lips to silence him. If he didn’t stop, he was going to turn her into a mess. A big, sappy mess.
But he kissed the pads of her fingers and kept talking. “Your favorite book is Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff ruined you for life. Now you’re only attracted to the dark, brooding, dangerous type. Lucky for me.” He stared down at her, his smile sexy and devastating.
Deep in the pit of her stomach, she knew that no other man would look at her as he did right then. She wanted to burn this moment into her memory so she would never, ever forget it.
“But I have to know what I’m dealing with, who you are,” Nick said. “All the cards on the table. It’s the only way we can tell if this is real.”
For a long, breathless moment, she was too choked up to speak. He wanted to see her layers, nothing more than she’d asked of him, but voicing the truth would snip this connection between them. Like cutting a tether. She couldn’t bear that on top of everything else going on.
She couldn’t breathe past the knot in her throat, but she forced herself to swallow down the ache. To ignore the hot flutter of desire.
“What difference does it make?” Desperation flooded her. “If I survive, after I testify, I’m gone and it’s over, anyway.”
Why put themselves through unnecessary heartache?
Better to leave well enough alone. She wrenched free of his grasp, hating the way she had been softening in his arms, and stormed into the cell-phone store. Spotting a small display of flip phones, she hurried to the rack.
Nick went up to her, drawing her attention like a tractor beam. “It matters to me. And I hope like hell that it matters to you, too.”
Of course it mattered. No man had ever been so honest with her, shown her so much respect by opening up the way Nick had back at the clinic. It couldn’t have been easy, and she admired his courage. The trust he’d shown her was a gift and a miracle rolled into one.
She understood what it meant. What it was worth.
Her reluctance to do the same made her the biggest hypocrite.
For someone who detested double standards, her omission sickened her, but she didn’t have the strength for the cold slap of rejection that she’d face from him.
“There’s no point,” she said. “Please, drop it.”
He nodded, his eyes growing cold. “Well, that’s the most disappointing response I’ve ever heard.” His tone was hard enough to crush a diamond, reminding her with blinding clarity that there was nothing soft about this man.
Not his body, or his mind, or his personality.
“Welcome back, Deputy Marshal Dredd. Did you have a nice ten-minute vacation?”
Regret stung her tongue. She wanted to hit Rewind and take those ugly words back. The man just told her he was crazy about her for goodness’ sake, and instead of being honest, she pulled the rejection rip cord first and parachuted out.
“Wish I could say it was nice to see you, Lori ‘The Chicken’ Carpenter, but I’m not a liar. I had a fantastic vacation with an incredible woman until she lost her suitcase full of courage. Too bad she’s not here now.” He grabbed a phone and went to pay for it.
What in the hell could she say to that?
He was right. She was a coward.
Even more surprising, through the anger and the argument, the sexual tension arcing between them was a live wire crackling with heat.
She went up to the register where Nick was paying. The clerk cut the plastic packaging open for them and tossed it in the trash. Nick pocketed the phone.
They walked to the sheriff’s department in silence. He opened the door for her, and she entered the vestibule on rubbery legs. She found she couldn’t look at Nick. Not that he had done anything wrong. She’d probably have a harder time looking in the mirror.
He held the inner door for her, as well, and they approached the front desk.
“Hi, how can I help?” the twentysomething receptionist asked.
“I’d like to speak with Sheriff Sheila Holmes.” He flashed his badge to the receptionist.
Lori glanced past the four empty desks spread out behind the receptionist to the sheriff’s office. Through the office window, Lori spotted the sheriff engrossed in a lively conversation with a man about ten years her junior who was holding a pie.
The physical similarities between the sheriff and the vet were plain. The same slender build, olive complexion, friendly, heart-shaped face, mahogany hair—the sheriff’s was pulled into a loose French braid.
“Certainly. One moment,” the receptionist said.
Apparently, the office was so small and informal, she just spun around in her seat and beckoned the sheriff over with a hand.
Sheriff Holmes clasped the man on the arm and said something to him that caused him to nod and hand her the pie.
She took it and walked him to the front. “Thanks again, Gerald, but if you keep bringing me these delicious pies, I’m not going to be able to fit into my uniform.”
A tantalizing aroma curled around Lori and she realized that it had been more than six hours since she’d eaten.
“I’ve got to win you over some way, Sheila. I figured my best bet is through my baking. So, I’m not going to stop until you agree to have dinner with me. I’ve got a huckleberry recipe that’ll knock your socks off.” He winked.
The sheriff chuckled at that, the bright smile emphasizing the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Then she caught sight of the bulletproof vest Lori was wearing and her laughter died.
“You better say yes,” the receptionist said, still giggling, “before one of us gains fifteen pounds from eating all that sugary goodness.”
“Thanks again.” The sheriff’s tone flattened as she gestured to the pie.
Gerald took the hint. He slipped on his ball cap, tipped the bill to her and was gone.
“Hello, I’m Sheriff Holmes.” She set the pie on the counter and proffered her hand.
“Deputy Marshal Nick McKenna.” He shook her hand. “Do you mind if we speak privately in your office?”
Up close, Lori noticed the same smattering of freckles across Sheila’s nose that Renee had. They were both approachable and welcoming, but where Renee had been sweet, there was a discernible toughness to the sheriff.
“Not at all. Can we get you two anything?” the sheriff asked. “Water, coffee, strawberry-rhubarb pie?”
Lori’s stomach answered with a loud rumble. “All three for me, please.”
“I’ll just have a water,” Nick said.
The receptionist nodded. “I’ll bring it in a moment.”
“Thank you, Suzie,” the sheriff said, and then led them to her office.
She invited them to sit in chairs opposite her desk and closed the door.
Once the sheriff was seated behind her desk, Nick said, “Ma’am, what I’m about to tell you is extremely sensitive and confidential. I’d appreciate your discretion.”
“Okay.” She folded her hands on the top of her desk. “I’m listening.”
“This is Lori Carpenter. She’s been in WITSEC for a year and is supposed to testify in an important trial tomorrow down in San Diego. My office has been compromised and her whereabouts leaked to Los Chacales. The drug cartel.”
The sheriff’s face hardened as she took everything in. “I’m familiar with them. A pretty dangerous group.”
Dangerous? That was like calling a hurricane gale a breeze.
They seemed unstoppable and relentless. If the sheriff didn’t help them, if this plan didn’t work, Lori had no clue what they were going to do.
“Yes, ma’am. They are,” Nick said.
The receptionist knocked and entered. She set a tray down on the desk, passed around beverages, handed Lori a piece of pie and a fork.
The sheriff thanked Suzie again, and the receptionist left.
Lori dug in, scarfing down the slice of heaven in five bites before Nick got to the grisly parts and she lost her appetite. The sheriff studied her intently, gaze bouncing back to Nick every few seconds as he continued to explain.
“Four attempts have been made on her life since this morning, including at our safe house, which was rigged with explosives and killed my partner.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed, and she straightened. “The explosion on Mill Creek. That was you?”
Nick and Lori both nodded.
“Two of my deputies are out there now. The fire department recovered a body. I take it that was your partner,” Sheriff Holmes said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Nick hung his head. Guilt over Ted must’ve been heavy as sandbags on his shoulders by the looks of him.
“We barely survived,” Lori said. “If it hadn’t been for Nick, I wouldn’t have. I owe him my life.” She turned to him, but he refused to meet her eyes.
Lori owed him much more than that. A debt that couldn’t be repaid.
At the very least, if they made it to the courthouse, she’d tell him how much he meant to her before they parted ways forever. Tell him that she was beyond crazy for him, totally over the moon and lost. Hopelessly lost in the sense of comfort and security his touch brought; lost in his incredible magnetism when they were in the same room; lost in his dark eyes when he looked at her. And if she stared into them now, she’d drown in the bourbon-brown depths.
She ached at the thought of never jogging together again, no more long conversations, not playing board games, not watching movies, not cooking together and taste-testing recipes.
He’d given her so much, shown consideration for things in ways that Ted hadn’t. Still, it might’ve just been him fulfilling his job duties, but the time they’d spent together had shown her how much she’d tolerated from others, how little she’d expected for herself and thought she deserved.
Although she was seated, she felt off balance. Her heart was breaking. The world was unraveling. She was going to lose her best friend.
Lori had had a handful of lovers and been married once, but none of those men had been her best friend. Or knew her as well as Nick did.
She couldn’t hold back the tears welling in her eyes.
“Here.” Sheriff Holmes handed her a box of tissues. “I’m sure today has been quite an ordeal for you.”
“Yes, it has,” Lori breathed.
Nick placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a long sideways glance, the affection in his eyes saying he was there for her. The silent gesture was all he could do in front of someone else.
“Sheriff,” he said, drawing his hand into his lap, “the cartel is still here. Close by.”
Lori and Nick exchanged a look. She held her breath, waiting to see if he was going to mention Renee and what happened at the clinic.
“Special Operation Group deputies are coming up from San Diego to provide assistance,” he said. “We need a safe place to wait and to keep Lori’s name out of your system until then.”
“Why hasn’t the LA Marshals’ office been notified?” the sheriff asked. “They’re closer.”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure. My boss, Will Draper, made the decision. Possibly to limit their involvement since we don’t know if the leak could’ve come from their office. But ma’am, I have reason to believe that Marshal Draper might in fact be the breach.”
Sheriff Holmes pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair, the leather groaning with the movement. “That’s a pretty heavy accusation. Do you have anything to substantiate it?”
“No, ma’am. I’m afraid I don’t.”
Lori chugged a little water and then traded it for black coffee, bypassing the cream.
“Is there anyone who can corroborate your story?” Holmes asked.
“The marshals on their way up here can.”
“Give me a number.” She picked up the phone and waited.
“I’d prefer to hold off on notifying them until they’re closer to the area,” Nick said.
The silence that followed was tense.
Sheriff Holmes studied him a moment, looked to Lori, then back to him. “Why is that exactly?”
“As I’ve told you, we’ve been compromised,” Nick said. “I think it might be my boss. He is the only person who has been aware of Lori’s location up to thirty minutes ago, where the cartel last found us. But as you pointed out, I don’t have proof. Therefore, I could be wrong. If we wait until my teammates are closer to Big Bear Lake, then we’ve risked nothing. Tipping our hand sooner opens the door to the possibility of sabotage.”
Holmes drew in a deep breath, seeming to weigh her options. The whole back-and-forth process agitated Lori’s nerves.
“How about I ask the State Police to send a few squad cars over? Precautionary measure,” the sheriff said.
“Would that request entail notifying them that a deputy marshal is in your office along with a star witness?” Nick asked.
“It would. To tap their resources requires a darn good reason. You have one, but to get them here means I have to share that reason.”
“Then that’s not a course of action I can endorse. No one can know we’re here. The moment you make a call, it could be intercepted.”
“I want to help, but you’re not giving me much to work with while asking me to have a bucketful of faith in your story.” She folded her arms. “What was the last location where you were attacked?”
Nick’s gaze fell, but apart from that, Lori wanted to shake whatever he was thinking loose from his lips.
She didn’t want to spoil any strategy he had planned, but Renee’s situation, the predicament they had left her in, was eating Lori up inside. She couldn’t stand it any longer and opened her mouth to confess what had happened.
“Sheriff,” the receptionist interrupted over the intercom of the phone on the desk. “US Marshal Will Draper is on the line for you.”
The sheriff raised an eyebrow and looked to Nick. “Anything you want to change about your story before I take that call?”
“No, ma’am. But I would ask that you put it on speaker and refrain from mentioning that we’re here.”
“How about we start by putting it on speaker and see how it goes?”
A quick nod from Nick. “Your house, your rules.”
Lori’s stomach flipped over and knotted.
“Sheriff Holmes, here. How can I help you, Marshal Draper?”
“Hello, Sheriff. I have reason to believe that a rogue deputy of mine, Nick McKenna, along with a witness who is in protective custody, is on his way to see you. If he’s not there already.”
One silent beat passed, followed by another as the sheriff eyeballed Nick. “What makes you think that, Marshal?”
“The transceiver in his car shows that he’s very close to your location,” Draper said. “A quick stroll away.”
Sheriff Holmes tilted her head, gaze bouncing between Nick and Lori.
Nick clenched his jaw and Lori could tell he was beating himself for leaving the car so close. But it wasn’t as if they’d had time to switch cars and she hadn’t been up for a trek through the woods on foot. The longer they were exposed in public, the easier it would be for Belladonna to find them.
Lori wanted to reach over and take his hand, tell him that it was okay.
“You said Deputy McKenna has gone rogue. In what way?” Sheriff Holmes asked.
“He just lost his partner and has faced several near-death experiences today.”
That was all true, Lori thought. Maybe Draper wasn’t the traitor and had no intention of throwing Nick under the bus.
“But McKenna has shown signs of being unstable,” Draper said, shattering Lori’s fragile hope. “I’m afraid this has sent him off the rails.”
Lori shook her head, wordlessly pleading with the sheriff not to believe a word of it, but Draper went on.
“First, he violated protocol, endangering a very important witness by taking her to be treated at a veterinary clinic,” Draper said, and the sheriff’s eyes flared wide. “Then he abandoned his government-issued phone. He’s paranoid, delusional and exhibiting rash behavior.”
“You son of a bitch.” Nick jumped to his feet. “You’re just trying to cover your own ass. Isn’t that right, Mr. Clean?”
“Listen to me, you hotheaded, impulsive, insubordinate bastard,” Draper said.
“Which veterinarian?” Sheriff Holmes interrupted, her face darkening with alarm.
Draper didn’t respond, and Nick hung his head.
The sheriff stood up. “I asked which clinic.” Her voice was cold steel.
“Happy Paws and Wagging Tails,” Lori said. Regret and guilt snaked through her veins. “Your daughter’s clinic.”
Sheriff Holmes blanched.
“Draper, you still there?” Nick’s brow furrowed. “Draper?”
The sheriff picked up the receiver, putting it to her ear, paused, then stabbed a few buttons on the dialer. “The line is dead.”
Lori and Nick turned toward the front door at the same time.
Four black SUVs pulled up and parked.
Lori’s stomach dropped to the floor. “Oh, God. They’re here.”