OWEN PEERED out of the window. His hospital room was three floors up. Both he and Mia had been pronounced fine, but the doctors wanted them to stay overnight for observation. He ached to see Lucas, but apart from the doctors and nurses, he hadn’t seen anyone. He was kind of assuming Mark was okay, since he must have been the one shooting from the cabin, but he’d be happier knowing for sure. He had two cops outside his room, but there wasn’t any point asking them anything.
The door to his room opened, and Deputy DuPree walked in. She smiled kindly. “Rough couple of days, huh?”
“Is Mark okay?” he asked immediately.
She nodded. “Yes. He shot and killed two of Malvetti’s men with Keefer’s gun.”
“Where’s Lucas?”
“Being questioned, but we don’t expect him to be long.” She walked over to Mia and smiled.
“Questioned,” gasped Owen. “But why?”
“Because he fatally shot Mr. Keefer,” she said dryly.
“But it was self-defense.”
“We have procedure that has to be followed.” She looked apologetic.
He guessed so. He really didn’t want to ask the next question, but felt like he had to. “Damien?” He had heard the gunfire, but so much had happened, so quickly,
“Alive and under armed guard.” She said the words as if it was a pity. “No one is allowed near him. You will still have to testify, but either way, you won’t have to worry about him anymore. You’re going into protective custody.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, but we have to leave now.”
Owen sank down on the bed, his knees seeming unable to hold him up. He glanced over at Mia, who was still sleeping, and wondered how long Lucas would be. Then he wondered why Lucas hadn’t come up to check on him, and little by little doubt crept in until it was all he could think about. They hadn’t talked about a future. They’d spent a week together, under less than favorable circumstances. And they’d kissed. The night in the shower had been amazing, but—
“Is Lucas being taken into protective custody too?”
DuPree nodded. “I have other marshals ready to escort him to his location as soon as the initial interviews are over.”
Unease skittered up Owen’s spine. She’d said that like they would be in different places. He remembered what Lucas had said at the car, when he had pulled him close. He’d told Jacko that they were together. This is why I’m coming. The Marshals protect couples together. Were they a couple?
“But we should be placed together. Couples always are.”
DuPree’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly. “I spoke to Lucas and told him we were moving you, and that Lucas and Mark would be relocated afterward with their own marshals. He never said anything about you two being together.” She looked embarrassed.
Owen tried to process her words. “He didn’t say we were together?”
DuPree shook her head. “No, but we can sort this out after you get situated. We really need to leave.”
Owen barely heard her. Lucas has changed his mind. The knowledge, the heartbreaking realization hurt. And the worst thing was that Owen didn’t blame him. He’d been a fool—a fool that no longer needed saving.
Lucas never took home the strays he rescued.
DuPree glanced at the door nervously, as if she was expecting someone to come in, then turned back to him. “There’s a car waiting downstairs.” She was clearly in a hurry, but Owen wasn’t completely sure he was ready to be ordered around again. He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
“Malvetti might be under guard, but I still don’t have any reason to trust the Marshals.”
DuPree stilled. “If I’m ever asked, I’ll deny it,” she warned. “He’s dead, and there’s no direct proof as yet.”
“Who’s dead and proof of what?”
She chewed her lip. “O’Connor.”
Owen’s eyes widened. He’d wondered about O’Connor. “I’m so sorry.”
DuPree shook her head. “He didn’t make it, but there were several suspicious money transfers to his bank, as well as some questionable telephone activity. I think the brass would like it kept quiet, but we are not absolutely sure who to trust. That is why I need you safe.”
“But if he was involved, why would they have shot him?” Owen didn’t understand.
“It could have been for many reasons. Maybe the guys with the guns were too low level in Malvetti’s organization to know he was a contact?” She rolled her injured shoulder. “It could as easily have been me.”
Owen shook his head. It seemed Damien could infiltrate any organization. “I never saw O’Connor with him.”
“We were only brought in when your first marshals died. So you wouldn’t have.” He could hear the regret in her voice, and he understood she would be upset that they had been betrayed.
“I’m not going anywhere without Mia.” He wasn’t ever letting her out of his sight again.
“I would never expect you to.” Her phone rang, and she answered it. There was a pause while she was obviously listening to something. “Yes. Five minutes.” She put the phone back in her pocket. “No problem, Owen.”
Owen was out of choices. “Where are we going?”
“To a safe house.” She walked over to the crib. “She is so adorable.” DuPree looked up and smiled. “May I?”
“Of course,” Owen said, picking up the diaper bag.
“Come on, Maria,” DuPree murmured and bent to lift her up.
Owen froze. He didn’t dare breathe.
Maria. DuPree had called her Maria. No one called her that except Damien. Which meant at some point, DuPree had heard him. Only she’d said they hadn’t been involved in the case back then. He looked up and met her gaze. The dawning realization of the slip showed on her face. He held his arms out for Mia in a silent agonized plea. A reaction.
But DuPree was faster. With one hand, she easily drew her gun. But she didn’t point it at him. No, she bent it so it was aimed at Mia.
“No,” Owen whispered, unsure of how he’d been able to make any sound at all.
“Let me tell you how this is going to happen,” DuPree said calmly. “We’re going to walk out of here. We’re going to get in the elevator and go all the way to the parking garage. Then we’re going to get in the car that will be waiting for us. If you so much as breathe at the wrong time, I will shoot your daughter. Are we clear?”
Owen blinked, incapable of making a sound except for a tiny whimper. She gestured to the door. “I’ll be behind you.” And she slid the gun under Mia’s blanket.
He took an agonized step and stopped in shock as the door opened and Lucas walked in. Lucas smiled as soon as he saw him. The big-hearted, goofy lopsided grin that normally wrapped Owen up in safety and warmth.
But not even Lucas was going to stop him from getting burned this time.
“Attiker,” DuPree said, as if nothing was wrong. “Sorry we can’t stop, but I have to take Owen to be interviewed.”
Lucas took a step closer to Owen, his smile deepening. “No worries. I’ll come, and then Mia and I can cuddle while Owen answers your questions.”
DuPree frowned, and Owen’s pulse raced as he saw her hand move slightly under the blanket. The one clutching the gun. He had to make Lucas go. “No.” He cleared his throat. “No, that’s okay. DuPree is going to take me to a safe house afterward.”
Lucas stilled and looked at DuPree. “Why does he have to go to a safe house?” His voice hitched slightly.
“Just following orders,” DuPree answered firmly.
Lucas looked confused. “But that makes no sense. And I just left Gallagher. He said he would join me up here in a few minutes.”
“Owen….” DuPree gestured to the door, and Owen took a hesitant step forward. Lucas didn’t move.
“Lucas,” Owen said desperately. “Let me go do this, and then we can talk afterward.”
Lucas gazed at Owen for a second, but then he turned to DuPree. “Why does Owen need protective custody?”
“Because of Damien,” Owen answered, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. “We can’t do anything until the grand jury testimony. I know you mean well, but I need some time. Let me get through this and we’ll talk.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re gonna talk plenty when we get home.” He looked at DuPree. “I don’t understand. You promised me you would tell him as soon as you got here.”
“Tell me what?” Owen looked from one to the other.
“Damien didn’t survive the shootout.” Lucas looked at Owen. “It’s over. He was declared dead at the scene, but you’d already left in an ambulance.” He looked at DuPree, confusion flitting across his face. “Why didn’t you—”
“Stand back,” she snapped, and the blanket slipped, showing the gun still pointing at Mia.
Lucas stilled. “It was you?” he asked incredulously.
DuPree nodded. “So you see,” she said conversationally. “You and Owen will both be joining me downstairs.”
“Why?” Lucas asked, and Owen knew he wasn’t questioning her last instruction but asking for a reason.
She paused, and Owen saw the bitterness glinting in her eyes. “Because he has proof,” she spat out, nodding to Owen. “Do you really think Malvetti’s death will stop the investigation?”
Lucas narrowed his gaze on her. “This makes no sense. You’re compounding this.”
DuPree’s laugh was shrill. “You really think I could possibly make this worse? Fuck, you’re naive.”
“Then what good will taking us do?” Owen asked. Lucas was right; it made no sense.
“Oh, I don’t want you, but since I don’t want this conversation repeated, you will all come.”
“Mia?” Owen blurted out. “You want Mia? Why?”
“I don’t want Mia. I want the locations of the safety deposit boxes you promised.”
“But—” Why would she want those? Damien was dead.
“Owen, do as I say or I’ll put a bullet in Lucas. Lucas, the same goes for you. Trust me,” she hissed. “I have nothing to lose.”
“Let Owen go,” Lucas pleaded.
DuPree shook her head. “That makes no sense. Surely you can see that makes no sense.” She tightened her grip on the gun. “Test me and I may decide to cut my losses and shoot the baby.”
Owen drew in a harsh breath. Lucas was going to die, and his only crime had been doing his job and doing it well. Owen would die in a heartbeat for Mia, and hope she was strong enough to survive her parenting, but the thought that Lucas would offer himself, even if it was futile, made him fall for the man a little bit more. What a waste. What an awful soul-sucking waste.
He glanced at Lucas, who was reluctantly walking in front of DuPree. The corridor was nearly empty, and she nodded toward a door at the end, indicating a fire exit.
“And you promise Mia will live?” Owen asked, not really sure why. Her promises didn’t mean anything, after all.
“She’ll live a life of luxury,” she replied tersely.
The door at the end of the corridor opened, and before anyone could react, O’Connor appeared, followed by Gallagher. Owen stopped, stunned to see the marshal. And before he even thought about it, he blurted out, “But you’re dead.”
Something must have shown in DuPree’s eyes. In her manner. In something, because before Owen could blink, O’Connor and Gallagher had drawn their guns and were pointing them.
Straight at Mia.
“No,” Owen cried and turned to DuPree. “Please.”
“You have nowhere to go, Lorraine,” O’Connor said. “Put her down on the floor and back away.”
“Nobody move,” DuPree shouted in panic.
O’Connor kept his weapon trained on her. “Why?” he choked, looking at his partner.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered. There was agony in every syllable.
The door opened and another man in a suit entered. He took in the situation immediately and drew his gun, also aiming it at DuPree.
“Mia,” Owen cried and took a step, but Lucas pulled him back.
“Drop the weapon, Marshal,” Gallagher ordered. “There’s nowhere to go.”
She ignored him and looked at Owen. “Take your daughter.” She spoke in a strange hollow voice, as if all the emotion had been wrung out of her.
Owen pulled out of Lucas’s grasp.
“Don’t move,” Gallagher snapped, his gun not lowering for an instant. “Put her on the floor.” The other man inched forward.
“Here,” DuPree encouraged Owen, looking him in the eye, and held out a still-sleeping Mia. “Here. I don’t want to drop her.”
And before Owen could react, Lucas stepped in front of both guns pointing at DuPree and held out his arms for Mia. DuPree gazed at him, utter defeat registering in her eyes, and let Lucas take the baby out of her arms. Then, before Lucas had a chance to move out of the way, she stepped back, turned the gun on herself, and simply fired.