CHASING JUSTICE

A daring escape by a dangerous fugitive puts US marshals Eric Hanning’s and Hailey Shelder’s careers and lives on the line. With the criminal vowing revenge, Eric feels duty-bound to protect his risk-taking partner. He doesn’t agree with her methods, but he’s drawn to the single mom who wants to prove she can make it in a demanding job. When her daughter is almost kidnapped, Eric and Hailey go from uneasy partners to a true team. But with floodwaters threatening the town and a killer on the loose, can their newfound trust survive the final showdown that awaits them?

“Federal agents!” Eric called out. “Open the door.”

“No!” The female voice yelled, “I know my rights.”

Hailey banged on the door. “We just want to ask a few questions, Ms. Phelps. This won’t take long and then you can go about your day.”

“I’ll go about my day when you leave me alone! This is police harassment!”

If Deirdre Phelps didn’t want to open the door and talk, there wasn’t much else she could do without probable cause and a warrant.

The neighbors probably loved the shouting match happening on their quiet little street, but this was pretty much the highlight of Hailey’s day. There was a rush to her work, a satisfaction of being part of an organization that brought down the worst of the worst criminals and put them away. Justice. Honor. She breathed these things. Her heart beat by them.

Hailey heard the ratchet of a shotgun.

Eric launched himself at her just before the front door exploded.

LISA PHILLIPS is a British-born, tea-drinking, guitar-playing wife and mom of two. There’s only one bunny rabbit now (sad face), but she’s muddling through that. Lisa favors high-stakes stories of mayhem and disaster where you can find made-for-each-other love that always ends in happily-ever-after, and she understands that faith is a work-in-progress more exciting than any story she can dream up. To find out more, visit authorlisaphillips.com.

Manhunt

Lisa Phillips

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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He sent from on high, he took me;

he drew me out of many waters.

—Psalms 18:16

To Scott. Thanks for putting up with endless questions about dams, boats, guns and computery-thingys.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

The shackled man in the orange jumpsuit sat between US Marshal Hailey Shelder and her new partner. The SUV rumbled down the dark highway at two in the morning while rain pounded on the windshield. It had been raining for days, a torrent that left ranches and farms waterlogged and roadways covered with a sheet of water.

Hailey tapped her foot. The excess adrenaline of a prisoner transfer coursed white-hot in her veins, leaving her wide awake. But all she was doing was sitting in the backseat waiting for...nothing would be great. No activity at all. Just the routine movement of prisoner to airplane, and then they could go home.

Hailey should have been dead asleep in a food coma after her evening watching back-to-back cartoon movies with Kerry that they’d both seen a million times already—not to mention all that popcorn. But she wasn’t going to skip her Friday night movie date with her twelve-year-old daughter, not even for a middle-of-the-night fugitive transfer. And definitely not when her ex-husband had Kerry every other weekend.

Half an hour out of town, the SUV pulled into the tiny airfield they used for covert, nighttime prisoner transfers. It was an out-of-the-way airport usually used for scenic tours of central Oregon—tours that strategically circled around the valley where the federal penitentiary was located. The airport was only two buildings and the runway, which was enough for them to make use of. The Marshals Service didn’t need the audience a bigger airport would give them.

“I can’t believe it’s still pouring.” Hailey’s new partner, Eric Hanning, leaned forward to look around the fugitive. “What is with this state? Is it ever going to stop raining?”

Hailey couldn’t stop the little flip of her heart every time he turned those blue eyes in her direction. Even though it was dark in the car, she could still picture them. She shrugged, as if his presence was all the same to her. Maybe if she pretended for long enough it would become true. Besides, it wasn’t like they got along.

“Maybe in a week or two.” Hailey didn’t want him getting his hopes up that the weather would clear. The rainfall had exceeded record amounts days ago, but the Arizona transplant didn’t know that.

She and Eric had butted heads at every available opportunity since he’d joined the team. His insistence on learning and then implementing every nuance of procedure was exhausting. At least the difference in their personalities served to defuse whatever attraction was there.

Office lore said Eric Hanning had been transferred from WITSEC. It must have been hard for him to go from something that cushy to a fugitive apprehension task force. But she wasn’t going to cut him any slack—that wasn’t how their world worked.

Hailey was the only woman on the eight-man team, and she was finally not the rookie anymore. Eric Hanning might shape up to be useless as a field marshal, but he was at least good for getting her out of the lowest spot.

Truthfully, Eric was so good-looking she could barely form sentences when his attention was on her—but she was trying to beat that, because those feelings had gotten her in trouble before. It didn’t mean he was anything special, just that God had chosen to give him a face that could’ve been in movies.

And while Eric was probably a perfectly nice guy, Hailey was done with romantic relationships. Her ex-husband had soured her on even the idea of getting back into all that.

Deputy Marshal Jackson Parker, her coworker and tonight’s driver, wound the vehicle between the office and the hangar. Yellow floodlights illuminated the corrugated walls of the building on her side. The prisoner shifted, and Hailey whipped her head back around to look at him. The last thing she wanted was any funny business. This needed to go smooth and easy, because she had every intention of getting home in time for Saturday-morning waffles.

Deputy Marshal Wyatt Ames sat in the front passenger seat. Both he and Parker were big guys, and it was squished enough in the backseat with the fugitive in the middle of Hailey and Eric.

The fugitive didn’t move again. The shackles on his wrists and ankles didn’t afford him much reach, but he’d still be able to do some damage in such close quarters. And Steve Farrell was notorious for the damage he could do.

His rap sheet was a lengthy list that included assault and murder, and he’d been found in possession of drugs and a stash of deadly weapons big enough to start a coup. He didn’t discriminate either. Men, women and children had been left in his wake. In her estimation, he was about a millimeter south of pure scum, but soon he would be off to his permanent stay in the California federal prison system.

Visibility outside was six feet, barely. But a jet on the runway would have been unmistakable. Hailey craned her neck and looked out each of the windows. “It’s not here.”

Eric lifted his watch so she could see the display. Who even wore a watch these days? Not that she could have gotten to her phone right now with all the gear she had on and the rifle she was holding. The illuminated screen on Eric’s watch read 2:07 a.m., so they had another eight minutes until the plane was due.

Eric said, “I’m ready to get this done and get home.”

Ames turned back to them from the front passenger seat. “Prisoner transfer cutting into your beauty sleep?”

Parker and Ames both laughed, though their humor had an edge to it, which wasn’t surprising. None of them would totally relax until the prisoner was safely on the plane and out of their custody. Hailey didn’t react. She knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of their razzing.

Parker left the engine running and they waited. Five minutes later the radio on the dash crackled to life and the plane’s pilot radioed in that they were two minutes out. Hailey heard the transmission echo in her earpiece.

Parker confirmed they were in place and ready. After he said, “Over,” he nodded to Ames, who called the office on his cell phone and confirmed they were ready to begin the transfer.

Ames hung up the phone. “Green light.”

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Parker accepted his rifle from Ames, who’d been holding both weapons.

“Seriously, that’s the best you can come up with?” Ames asked. “‘Let’s get this show on the road?’”

Parker sneered. “Excuse me if my mental faculties are otherwise occupied.”

“Yeah, it must be tough to have to concentrate on walking the orange jumpsuit from here, to down there.” Ames pointed down the runway.

“Let’s just go, okay?” Eric was apparently determined to be the voice of reason, but Hailey didn’t mind.

She said, “Agreed. If we’re going to get drenched anyway, then I’d rather get out now and get on with this.”

Parker turned to them, his eyes on the prisoner. “Let’s move.”

They climbed out and walked to the runway as the four corners of a square, with Steve Farrell in the center. The downpour drowned out all sound except rain hitting the concrete and her jacket. In the distance, the airplane’s lights came into view, high in the sky.

Rain poured off the sides of her helmet as Hailey scanned the area, keeping her senses open in case Farrell tried something. Her clothes had gained fifteen pounds of water that penetrated through to the tank top underneath. Even her socks were wet in her boots. When she took off her helmet later, her hair was going to be a giant red fuzz ball.

Out here in the middle of the night Hailey wasn’t an individual, but part of a team made of four marshals guarding one fugitive. They had to get the man onto the airplane, and nothing else mattered beyond that, their most important objective. Any help they could call in was half an hour away.

* * *

“Go!” On Parker’s command they speed-walked the prisoner to the runway. There was no hanging around. This wasn’t about any of them. Except in the case of a debilitating injury, each marshal just had to do his or her job. It was a far cry from WITSEC, but getting his cover blown as an inspector for witness protection—by a reporter, no less...well, that hadn’t been in the plan either.

Two months now. Two months of his life being upside down. Two months of fugitive apprehension and prisoner transfers. Two months on a team with Hailey Shelder.

He’d denounced romantic relationships altogether after his fiancée had been paralyzed. Because while Eric would have stayed with Sarah forever, she’d pushed him away and refused to believe he still loved her. He’d tried to get her to listen, but eventually he’d been forced to face the fact she didn’t want him anymore.

Eric risked a glance across the huddle as they strode to the plane. Hailey was all business, just one of the guys, dressed in the same bulky outfit they all wore. Her gun wasn’t even trembling, not like the tiny shift of his. Wasn’t she scared? His whole body was shaking, but if asked he’d have claimed it was the rain and the cold. Oregon seasons were killer to a guy who’d lived in Phoenix almost his whole adult life.

Parker yelled, “Let’s go! Pick it up!”

They had to get Farrell on that plane.

Eric’s earpiece crackled. A voice came on, male. The man instructed the pilot there was a problem and he shouldn’t land. The wording was precise, using a code they only employed when there was an imminent threat.

The team shifted. The only one who didn’t falter was Parker. “Hold.”

The pilot radioed back. “Confirmed.” The plane banked left and circled around, flying away from them.

“Huddle up.” On Parker’s order, they closed in and turned outward. Anyone who approached would have to face one of them, no matter what direction they were coming from.

Ames said, “What’s going on? Who was that?”

Parker, the former SEAL, shouted over the pounding rain. “We’re going back to the vehicle. On my—”

Something bright cut through the darkness, barreling through the air from the tree line.

Their SUV exploded.

Eric choked on his gasp. He could see Hailey was itching to run. The fugitive, Farrell, began to laugh.

They were cut off until someone could get there to assist them.

Eric scanned the darkness, but he saw nothing. Even with the light of the SUV engulfed in flames, there was no sign of the threat in the deluge of rain.

The fugitive bobbed from one foot to the other. His orange jumpsuit was drenched and his bulletproof vest was dripping, but he was still a beacon in the night. Someone out there had their eyes on the target. Whoever it was didn’t want Farrell on that plane. But were they here to kill him, or help him escape?

A canister hit Eric’s foot, and gas began to pour out in a cloud of smoke. “Gas!” Eric called out the warning, but they couldn’t get to masks they didn’t have. They couldn’t even move from their positions.

Two more canisters were tossed at the edges of their huddle and more smoke chugged out of them. The cloud cut off what visibility they’d had and Eric’s lungs protested the noxious smell of tear gas. How long could he hold his breath? Hailey coughed, and then Ames did, too. Parker looked like he was still breathing normally. What did they do to SEALs in their training?

Then there was nothing but smoke.

Parker yelled, “Hold!”

Deputy Marshal Ames hit the floor.

Something slammed into Eric’s neck. It felt like a tiny rock. He tried to suck in a breath, but the floor swept up and hit him. Gunshots. Parker and Hailey both fell, too.

Eric touched the side of his neck and pulled his gloved hand back, but there was no blood. He could barely breathe. It felt like the time he’d been winded playing paintball. The bruise had been on his sternum for weeks.

Beanbag rounds?

Booted feet crowded around them. He tried to move. The team was all down and the fugitive was laughing full out now, a sickening sound.

Steve Farrell stepped on Eric’s stomach on the way over his body. Still laughing, he walked away. Their assailants looked like a swarm of cockroaches to Eric’s blurred vision. He wiped away the tears streaming down his face—a product of the gas—and tried to focus.

The assault team was going to disappear into the darkness with an escaped fugitive.

Eric grasped about for his weapon, grabbed it and managed to aim at the man in orange.

One of his teammates fired.

Eric fired, too.

TWO

Just after nine on Friday morning, almost a week after Steve Farrell’s escape, Hailey slumped into the back row of the briefing room beside Eric and handed him his coffee. The whiteboard at the front of the room was covered with pictures of Farrell, showcasing his life of crime over the last few years, along with his known associates. Beside it was a map marked with sightings of Farrell that had been called in to the tip line.

No one knew who had helped Farrell escape.

Jonah Rivers, their supervisor and the fugitive apprehension task force team lead, stood at the front of the room. They had another boss, Marshal Wilson Turner, an old-school marshal who oversaw the whole office, but Jonah was the hands-on man.

Jonah stood with his feet hip-width apart and his arms folded. “The blood found on the runway was sent off for testing. We still don’t know who hit who, given both Marshal Shelder and Marshal Hanning fired their weapons.”

Hailey’s cheeks heated. Lying on the ground, thinking she’d been shot in the helmet, she’d realized she was unhurt and tried to do something to help the situation.

Beanbag rounds. Like suddenly it was important for them not to hurt anyone.

And apparently Eric had managed the same thing, because they’d both fired.

Too bad all she’d done was wing someone as they ran away. If she’d even hit the person at all. It could just as easily have been Eric.

Eric shifted beside her. She glanced over at his notebook, where he dutifully recorded everything Jonah was saying. He scratched above his ear with the lid of his pen. Maybe he wouldn’t turn out like the rest of them. He did seem more studious than the rough-edged marshals in the room. That could be a good thing.

Eric shifted and pulled out his phone. The display said Aaron. He stopped the vibrating and slid the phone back in his pocket.

“Who was that?”

Eric looked up. “Huh?”

“The phone. Who’s Aaron?”

“Oh, he’s my brother.”

Hailey studied Eric. There was no way that was all it had been. She knew for a fact her partner was keeping secrets, but for now, she’d let him be evasive. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to give up everything you had built, and move to a completely new city and start over. Still, WITSEC? That had to have been cool.

Her life had fallen apart in a different way when her marriage ended. She’d been tempted to get herself a new life, but around that time Kerry had been starting school and her dad’s construction business was slowing down. Now he only took the odd handyman job to stay busy. It was just how things had worked out, but it meant Hailey had spent her whole life in this one county.

The marshal in front of Hailey raised his hand and said, “What about the rain?”

Jonah nodded. “They’re expecting localized flooding around the river, so the sheriff and the police chief are coordinating efforts to minimize the damage. The radar doesn’t look good, though, and I honestly think the mayor’s downplaying it. We’ll see how it plays out and adjust accordingly. Rain or not, Farrell is still our target.”

She tried not to flinch at Jonah’s mention of the mayor, but it didn’t help when two of the guys turned to smirk at her. So what? She and Charles had been divorced for seven years—whatever he was or wasn’t doing in his mayoral duties had nothing to do with her.

She felt Eric’s attention on her. “Something I should know?”

Hailey’s cheeks warmed even more—a definite downside of having red hair and freckles. She turned to her partner. “Why would there be?”

His face said he didn’t buy it, but she wasn’t going to tell him all the details of her personal life if he wasn’t going to do the same. They just weren’t that type of partners, regardless of what most people thought of law enforcement. Hailey didn’t bring her life to work. Not that the guys respected her need to keep her private life private. But that was a whole other set of problems, and she had enough to deal with.

Jonah said, “The clock is ticking. Let’s get to work.”

Eric’s eyes were focused on her. She started to figure out how to explain, but her phone vibrated. She read the email and motioned from Eric to the door with a flick of her fingers. “Let’s go.”

He glanced up. “Where?”

“Jonah!” She was already walking away. “Hanning and I are out!”

Ten minutes later Hailey was driving through town with Eric beside her in her rusty nineties car. He frowned. “You missed the turn.”

“No, I didn’t. This isn’t a latte run.” His unrelenting insistence on following procedure was starting to affect her mood, like the rain clouds overhead that made everything dreary. “As for what this is, you’ll have to trust me.”

The country song on the radio was cut off by a loud buzz. An electronic voice said, “A severe weather alert is still in effect for all counties, including Franklin—”

Eric shut the radio off. “I might be new to the task force, but I’m pretty sure going off on a hunch is frowned upon.”

Hailey pressed her lips together while the windshield wipers fought to quell the rainfall. “It’s probably nothing.”

“But it might be something?”

“You don’t have to come.” She shrugged. “You could get out at the next light and walk back to the office.”

“And if something happens to you? I’ll have to explain to the rest of the task force that I let you get hurt.”

There was the crux of the situation. None of the good old boys on the task force wanted the little girl to get hurt. Apparently they’d overlooked the fact she was a trained marshal, just like them. She’d hardly have picked the toughest federal job—tracking down outstanding warrants, escaped prisoners and federal fugitives—if she was a wimp.

“All we’re going to do is ask Deirdre Phelps if she has any idea where our escaped fugitive is.” Hailey motioned to the backseat with a tilt of her head and made a right turn. “Check out the file yourself.”

“What makes you think this Deirdre Phelps has anything to do with Farrell?”

Hailey hesitated for a minute, but if she was going to jump in then it might as well be with both feet.

After the debacle at the airport she’d been up all night reading and rereading Farrell’s file. It had taken a week to track down his old girlfriend and confirm they were still in contact.

“Deirdre Phelps visited Steve Farrell every month when he was locked up in county for assault.”

Eric flipped through the file. “Her name’s not on the visitor’s log.”

“She used a fake ID. This morning I emailed her picture to a sheriff’s deputy who worked at the jail back then. He just confirmed it was her.”

“That was six years ago.” Eric shook his head. “You didn’t bring this to the team because...”

“You haven’t lived in this part of Oregon long, so let me give you a crash course. Deirdre Phelps is the daughter of Thomas James Phelps the Third. He owns all four Chevy dealerships in the valley. She does not work. She lives in a condo in a gated community, drives a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car and spends her days shopping and getting manicures. She’s practically royalty around here, and you do not mess with daddy’s little girl.”

“Still, couldn’t you have just mentioned it to Jonah?”

“Fine.” Hailey sighed. “Marshal Turner plays golf with Thomas James Phelps the Third.”

Eric huffed out a breath. “Okay, I get it.”

He should have, because Marshal Turner was technically their boss—Jonah’s boss. Two years from retirement, his gut hung over his belt and he spent his days in the office looking at pictures of yachts.

“I just want to ask if she’s seen or heard from her fugitive ex-boyfriend.”

As of a week ago, instead of being transferred to his permanent federal vacation in California, Farrell was now back on the 15 Most Wanted list. And worse, his escape made her miss breakfast the next morning with her daughter.

The security guard at the community’s gate frowned at their badges, but let them in. Was he going to call ahead and warn Princess Phelps they were coming? Hailey couldn’t do much about that, short of threatening him with her weapon. The security guard probably got paid more than she did, working in a neighborhood like this.

The streets were wide and free of cars, as if the residents had been threatened not to park there. The landscaping was immaculate, although waterlogged, since the rain was still falling steady. And yet, somehow not even a stray leaf was on the ground. It was eerie, unlike her homey neighborhood and the dated farmhouse she grew up in. Her roof leaked and the wind whistled through the upstairs hall, but at least her house wasn’t sterile and void of humanity like this place.

Hailey popped the trunk on her Honda and reached for her two pairs of cuffs, the extra magazines for her weapon, and her flashlight. Eric’s eyebrows rose under the bill of his government-issued baseball cap. Go team.

Hailey shook her head. “It’s just a precaution.” And more habit than necessity, even if it could be the difference between life and death. The extra supplies balanced out the professional weight of the star badge on her belt.

“I thought you weren’t worried about this. It isn’t a big thing, remember?”

Hailey rolled her eyes. Kerry liked to use that tone of voice when she needed to remind Hailey of something she’d said. It was like the kid was twelve going on twenty-five.

Eric’s lips twitched.

Hailey frowned at him. “You’re teasing me.”

He shrugged off his jacket and snapped his belt on below his Kevlar vest. “Only a little.”

“Must be a slow day.”

He laughed. The yellowing bruise on his neck from the beanbag round did nothing to mar his looks.

They both pulled on black jackets with US MARSHALS stenciled on the back, and Eric followed her through the ridiculous little gate in the white picket fence of Deirdre Phelps’s townhome.

Hailey unsnapped her gun and rested her hand on it. They were only there to ask Deirdre a few questions, but the possibility Farrell might be inside the residence couldn’t be ignored.

The walk sloped up to the front door, while the drive curved down to the garage, tucked away below ground level like it needed to be out of sight.

Hailey ignored the bell and hammered on the front door. “This is the US Marshals, Ms. Phelps. We need to speak with you.”

That would get the neighbors talking. Hailey would probably get into trouble for disturbing Princess Phelps’s life, but she just knew there was a connection between Deirdre and Farrell.

She pounded again. “Open the door, Ms. Phelps!”

The voice that came from behind the door was muffled, but high-pitched. “Go away.”

“Federal agents,” Eric called out. “Open the door.”

“No!” the female yelled. “I know my rights.”

She glanced at Eric, and they shared a grin. Why did no one ever worry about Hailey’s right to ask a simple question to someone who was clearly hiding something? That made her wonder again what secrets Eric was keeping, but there wasn’t time for that now.

Not to mention the last thing she needed in her life was another man who was going to hide stuff from her. Not when she was trying to keep life as simple as possible for her and her daughter.

Hailey banged on the door. “We just want to ask a few questions, Ms. Phelps. This won’t take long, and then you can go about your day.”

“I’ll go about my day when you leave me alone. This is police harassment!”

Hailey chuckled. “Open the door and tell me you don’t know where Steven Farrell is and we’ll be on our way.”

“No.”

Apparently Princess Phelps wasn’t interested in taking the easy way out. Hailey only had her suspicions. If Deirdre didn’t want to open the door and talk, there wasn’t much else she could do without probable cause and a warrant.

The neighbors probably loved the shouting match happening on their quiet little street, but this was pretty much the highlight of Hailey’s day. There was a rush to her work, a satisfaction in being part of an organization that brought down the worst of the worst criminals and put them away. Justice. Honor. She breathed these things. Her heart beat by them.

Hailey heard the ratchet of a shotgun.

Eric launched himself at her just before the front door exploded.

THREE

Raindrops hit Eric’s face. He blinked up at the gray sky and shot to his feet, his weapon already in his hand. “I’ll call it in.”

“There’s no time. He’ll get away.” Hailey hit the front step and Eric followed, their weapons angled down as they swept through the hall. Hailey probably wanted proof of Farrell’s presence, or Deirdre’s involvement, before they got reprimanded for going off on their own without informing anyone.

Eric hit the button on his Bluetooth and scanned the empty living room while he used voice dialing. “Duty phone.”

He saw Hailey react, but she kept her eyes on the room as they swept through it, clearing the designer luxury of the first floor, room by room.

“Deputy Marshal Ames.”

Eric didn’t hesitate. He lead straight in with, “Shots fired.” He gave the deputy marshal Deirdre’s address. “Backup requested at same address.”

“Farrell?”

“Possible location of escapee, but no sightings yet. House is not secure.” Eric ended the call. Most women didn’t pick a shotgun like that if they had the choice, though it wasn’t unheard of. He was guessing Farrell was here somewhere.

The throaty rev of a muscle car preceded a crash. Eric and Hailey both rushed to the front door. A black sports car roared up the short drive from the basement garage onto the street with a woman at the wheel. Where was Farrell?

“I’m guessing that was Deirdre.”

Hailey nodded. “We need to finish clearing the house. Then we can get a BOLO out on Deirdre. Farrell could still be in here.”

Eric followed her upstairs. The “be on the lookout” order was already out for Farrell, but if Deirdre knew where he was, finding her could be the quickest route to the escaped fugitive.

And yet, Hailey still wanted to find the fugitive all by herself. Of all the partners the task force could have assigned him, Eric was stuck with Hailey. She wasn’t the only marshal with something to prove, that was for sure. But couldn’t he have been paired up with someone who actually respected the rules? That must have been too much to ask for.

It just proved how far Eric had fallen. With his rank of inspector stripped, he was now a plain old deputy again, demoted through no fault of his own. Clinging to the bottom rung, he got routinely stepped on by the more senior members of the team on their way to the boss’s fancy coffeemaker. He was stuck with what they all saw as the weak link—the firecracker none of them had ever been able to bring in line. Why couldn’t she do what she was told?

Eric should have guessed when he saw her red hair. She wore it tied back all the time, like she was trying to tame her own nature, but little wisps of it always hung around the sides of her face. He supposed some might call her pretty, but he’d found her attitude eclipsed the understated way she dressed. Maybe she should work on toning down her personality.

The front bedroom was clear, as was the bathroom. Two toothbrushes were on the counter by the sink and the toilet seat was up. Hailey entered the rear bedroom first. A mattress on the floor in the corner looked to have been used recently.

The floor was covered with papers, photos and reports. All of their personnel files. Everything Farrell’s assault team needed to know about the four marshals who were supposed to have transferred him to that plane.

Hailey dug down and pulled out a map of the airfield. “They knew everything. Who we were, when we’d be there...all of it. Farrell has information on all of us.”

Eric shook his head. “Why would he still need it now? I figured he’d split town first thing, but he’s been staying here all week with this? Why?”

Hailey lifted a photo of a little girl and her whole body tightened. A picture of her daughter? The girl had Hailey’s green eyes and red hair. He knew from the guys she had a child.

Eric set his hand on her shoulder. “Easy.”

Hailey stepped away. “I’m fine.”

Eric sighed. She was going to pretend finding that here didn’t mean anything? “You’re allowed to have a reaction, Hailey. Take a minute, and when you’re good we’ll get back to work.”

“So I have a daughter. It doesn’t mean I need any special concessions.” She glanced out the window. “The team will be here in a minute. We should get downstairs.”

Thunder rumbled across the sky, reverberating in his chest like a bass guitar cranked up to ten. The day had suddenly flipped from work to personal.

All he wanted was to punch in, do his job, and then punch out at the end of the day. Not that going home to an empty apartment and all the stuff he hadn’t unpacked yet was all that great, but Eric didn’t much want to be chasing scum all day, running down outstanding warrants and hauling in criminals like some glorified trash collector, either.

The guys on the team thought they were so tough, going after criminals on a daily basis. And the crazy part was Hailey wanted to be exactly like them. As if being “one of the guys” was something to aspire to. Witness protection hadn’t just been a step up from this, career-wise—it had been a calling, and he’d loved every minute of it. Eric didn’t want to live in the past, but it was hard when he’d left behind so much.

Bye, bye dream job. Hello, hick town, Oregon.

He needed to succeed at fugitive apprehension, but he wasn’t going to sacrifice his heart and soul to do it. Not if he could help it. Eric couldn’t let it consume him the way WITSEC had.

It was too risky, because if it went wrong, he’d end up right back in those days after Sarah’s accident, when she didn’t want to see him because she thought he couldn’t love her anymore just because she was paralyzed. So she’d pushed him away, despite all his attempts to convince her he still loved her. Eventually Eric had been forced to face the fact she didn’t want him anymore.

He couldn’t let himself go there again. Not if he could help it. He just had to keep everything compartmentalized. Then there wouldn’t be any risk of getting in too deep.

Find Farrell, and keep his feelings out of it.

* * *

Hailey heard the sirens before the stream of cars tore around the corner onto Deirdre’s street and pulled up outside the house.

Hailey took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders as the pack of marshals climbed out of their cars into the rain. Their jackets and ball caps dampened fast, and she could barely distinguish the patter of rain from the stomp of boots up the front walk.

“Farrell might have been staying here since he escaped. We’re not sure.”

Jonah actually looked impressed for a second, like maybe Hailey had done something of note. The forty-something’s graying hair gave him a distinguished air, but she’d seen him cuff a four-hundred-pound biker without breaking a sweat.

The look of approval disappeared as fast as it had come when she told Jonah what they’d found.

“Not good.” His eyes darkened. “Looks like Princess Phelps has some explaining to do.”

Hailey nodded. This should have been a quick interview, a chance to bring new information to the team. Now someone—not Hailey—was going to have to tell Deirdre’s father she was wanted for questioning. For harboring a dangerous fugitive, no less.

Hailey checked her watch. One hour until Kerry caught the bus home and went to her dad’s for the weekend.

“Running late for something?”

She shot Parker a glance and scowled. “I’m focused. That’s how I found all this.”

Jonah stepped in front of her. “Parker, get upstairs and take a look.”

Hailey smirked, but Jonah turned and caught the look on her face. “They’re never going to warm to you if you don’t play nice.”

“It’s been four years since I joined the team. I figure if it hasn’t happened by now...”

Maybe their razzing her was their idea of respect. That was possible. But still, Hailey didn’t like double standards.

“Besides, why do I have to be the one that’s nice? Maybe they should go first.”

Jonah sighed. “Why does my job feel more like babysitting than federal law enforcement? And I’m not just talking about the criminals.”

Hailey opened her mouth, but Jonah lifted his hand, palm facing out. “Save it, Shelder. We’ll get the techs to go through all this. Find out who Deirdre and Farrell were working with.” Jonah folded his arms, his face completely neutral. “The BOLO will be updated to include Deirdre and her car. We’ll take this from here. You two head back to the office.”

Jonah wasn’t going to ream her for going off unsupervised? “What’s going on?”

“You want me to tell you that you did a good job?” Jonah asked.

“Might be nice.”

“That’s not going to happen. We all want to catch him, and you scored big with Deirdre and the files upstairs. Your actions versus the result, you barely broke even.”

“What?” Hailey couldn’t believe he thought she’d only done enough to outweigh her acting not exactly according to procedure. “But—”

“I get you want to catch Farrell, but this isn’t the way to do it. One of these days this jumping the gun is going to get you in serious trouble.”

Jonah ran a hand through his hair. “Once the team has finished processing the house we’ll run through what they’ve found.” He glanced at his watch. “How long until Kerry gets out of school?”

“You think Farrell’s going to come after my daughter this fast?” Some of the other guys on the task force had wives, kids. Would they be targeted, too? “Maybe we should put a detail on all the families. Just to be safe.”

Jonah folded his arms. “Look, we still don’t know if Farrell was injured last week or not. It depends if he’s already split town or if he’s sticking around to pay us back.”

“This is my lead, and it’s Charles’s weekend. Put someone on his house.”

Jonah strode away down the hall.

“Come on, Hailey.” Eric motioned to the front door.

Apparently Eric thought she’d done the wrong thing, too. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Together they stepped outside. The rain was falling in a steady stream. It felt like she was standing with her face against a sprinkler.

Hailey followed him to the curb, her drenched hair getting plastered to her head. “Jonah’s going to take all the credit.”

Eric looked back at her. Raindrops ran down his face. “You think?”

Hailey swiped the rain from her forehead. She should have grabbed a ball cap that morning. “Of course. That’s the only explanation for why he wants us out of here. Haven’t you learned anything? Jonah is going to make it look like I’m the victim and claim the lead for himself.”

“But Farrell will be off the streets. Isn’t that what we want?”

Hailey wanted to kick the gate. “That’s not the point...or not the whole point.”

“I thought our task force was a team.”

“That might have been in the brochure and all, but guys like Jonah only know one thing. Being top dog.”

Eric frowned. “Well, then, why do you stay if they treat you like this?”

“Why do you?”

“I’m trying to get my life back on track. And if you weren’t so contrary, I’d ask if we could help each other out.”

“Like allies?”

Eric’s lips curled into a smile. “A peace treaty. What do you say?”

Hailey opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. No one had ever offered to stand with her before. She stood on the sidewalk with rain running into the collar of her jacket.

Why couldn’t she say yes? It shouldn’t be this difficult to accept a good offer from a fellow marshal. A marshal who had worked witness protection had to be trustworthy. Why shouldn’t they have a true partnership?

His offer touched something that had lain dormant for so many years. She’d almost forgotten that place in her existed.

His anticipation seemed to fall away. “Forget it. Let’s go.”

FOUR

Eric poured two coffees and set one in front of Hailey. She tapped a brisk rhythm on the edge of her desk with her pen. He was disappointed she hadn’t accepted his offer of partnership. Why couldn’t she see how much more they could achieve if they simply combined their efforts instead of butting heads all the time?

He typed his password in and brought up Deirdre Phelps’s cell phone records. She didn’t have a landline, but she did have internet service. He wanted to get his hands on her computer, check what websites she or Farrell had been looking at. He’d always loved computer forensics, and now that it played a bigger role in his work, he could add to the short tally of good things in his life.

The office’s double door beeped. A lanky man in an expensive suit pushed it open, and then shook out his umbrella on the entryway floor. His dark hair was shiny, either from the rain or from copious amounts of whatever he’d smeared in it to hold its expensive style.

Hailey lifted her head. “Great.”

Eric rolled his chair toward her desk. “Who is that?”

“His name is Charles Turpin. He’s the mayor.”

The mayor looked at Hailey behind her desk, but didn’t react the way people did when they saw someone they knew. Or someone they liked. Still, he came over, his Italian loafers clicking on the floor. “Hailey.”

Hailey kept her eyes on her paper, her back rigid. “Social visit?”

Eric turned to his computer and clicked on the next page of phone numbers. The digits blurred together, so he rubbed his eyes. He probably should have remembered to bring his reading glasses with him to work, since staring at a screen for more than fifteen minutes gave him a headache.

The mayor said, “I have a meeting with Marshal Turner about preparations, in case there’s any flooding over the next few days.”

Hailey’s eyes widened. “I thought the rain was dying down. It’s supposed to get worse?”

Charles motioned to the door to Turner’s office. “I should get to it.”

She nodded. “Any plans this weekend?”

Eric’s finger paused on his mouse. Were they dating? This Charles guy didn’t seem like the kind of man Hailey would be interested in, but there was clearly something between them. It just didn’t look like, whatever it was, was necessarily good.

Could this be her ex-husband? He’d heard through the grapevine that she was divorced from Kerry’s father. But, this guy? He couldn’t picture it. The mayor was way too suave, and Hailey was way too down-to-earth to fall for that.

“We’re going to dinner at Milton’s.”

“The steak place?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“Kerry’s a vegetarian.”

“Since when?”

Eric looked up and saw Hailey shrug. “I figured she’d get sick of it after the first few weeks, but it’s been going on a month now. You didn’t know?”

“How am I supposed to know anything about that girl? She changes her mind as fast as the weather.”

Eric glanced at the window. It’d been raining steady for days.

Hailey’s exhale was controlled, like she was trying not to react. “Well, have a good weekend.”

“Thank you, Hailey.” Charles stepped away, but stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot. What with my meeting and all, I was going to have Beth-Ann pick up Kerry from the bus stop.”

Hailey’s entire body snapped taut at the name Beth-Ann.

“But Beth-Ann apparently has an appointment. You can get Kerry, can’t you? Bring her by my place around seven.”

“Charles.” Hailey took a breath, like she was trying to rein in her frustration. Eric had never seen her act this way. “I’m in the middle of a case. I need to focus. There’s an escaped federal fugitive out there who might be targeting us. And it’s your weekend.”

“I won’t be able to get away,” Charles said. Apparently unaffected, he strode off into Marshal Turner’s office.

Hailey stared at the door, even after it had closed.

Eric wasn’t sure which question to ask first. “I’m guessing it’s complicated.”

Hailey blinked and focused on him. When she saw he was amused, her eyes lit with a smile. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Eric chuckled. “Beth-Ann?”

Hailey rolled her eyes. “Charles’s new wife.”

Eric kept his expression straight. He had to handle this right or she would close off instead of opening up. “You and Charles were married?”

Her face shut down, as though she’d heard accusation in his voice. “Until seven years ago.”

“Joint custody?” She nodded, but he didn’t feel right leaving it at that. “Are you okay?”

Hailey studied him. “You’re not going to interrogate me for all the juicy details?”

“I figure if you want me to know then you’ll tell me.”

Eric was more than curious about what caused a vibrant woman like Hailey to marry suave Mr. Mayor. They did not fit together at all, which might explain the divorce, especially with Charles being remarried. Had he cheated on Hailey? Eric was glad he hadn’t been in town early enough to vote for the guy because he’d probably have volunteered to hand out flyers for his opponent.

No wonder she hadn’t accepted Eric’s partnership.

Hailey pulled open her top drawer and drew out a photo, which she handed to him. “That was a year ago.”

An older man who’d bequeathed Hailey a wide jaw and his nose sat with Hailey and a red-haired girl around a restaurant table. The same girl Eric had seen in the picture at Deirdre’s house. Hailey’s daughter.

“How old is she?”

“Kerry will be thirteen next month.”

Eric was thirty-two, which meant Hailey could easily be older than him, by at least a couple of years.

Her jaw flexed, and she answered his unspoken question. “I’m thirty-five.”

Eric hesitated, measuring his words. “High school sweethearts?”

Hailey’s face morphed into something that looked like pain. “We did get married because of Kerry, but we were in college. It wasn’t long before I realized Charles was only pretending he wanted to be there. He loves Kerry in his own way. It’s just me he wasn’t able to live with.”

“Did he cheat on you?”

Hailey brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen loose. “Let’s just get back to work, okay?”

Eric shrugged like his world wasn’t still spinning faster than normal. “Sure.”

He knew she and Kerry lived with her dad. The guys on the team had told him that much about her when they’d warned him about his new partner. Prickly was the word they’d used. That had been an understatement. Getting her to open up even a little bit felt like a victory, one he wasn’t going to take lightly.

No wonder she’d hesitated before, when he suggested they partner up. He hadn’t even thought Hailey might be concerned about whether she could trust him or not. It made him want to prove himself, to tell her about his life and his own family so she would know for sure she could rely on him.

Eric studied her, and she didn’t look away, so he turned in his chair to face her. “Thank you for sharing with me. You know I worked with WITSEC. That means I know a little something about keeping secrets. And finding someone you can trust with part of yourself is huge.”

She waved away his words. “Whatever. It’s not a big deal, Hanning.”

Eric studied her as she got back to work. He knew she didn’t mean it. Hailey seemed to live her life in “protection” mode, never letting anyone get close to her. Getting burned by her husband couldn’t have been easy. Eric knew what it was like to lose a relationship with someone you cared about.

Had she loved Charles? If they’d had a baby together, she must have felt something for him. But it didn’t necessarily mean they’d been head-over-heels in love. She’d avoided the question enough for him to know there was more to the story. Not that he cared, of course. But he was curious. And the more he learned about her, the more Eric wanted to know what was below the surface.

He looked back at the computer, and pain sparked behind his eyes. “Maybe we should get some dinner.” The granola bar he kept in his desk had been stale, and now he was hungry again. “We could order pizza. You like pepperoni?”

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Ham and pineapple.”

Eric made a gagging noise and picked up the phone. “Two pizzas it is.”

Half an hour later the door buzzed and the rest of the team swept in. Jonah wiped his mouth with a napkin and broke off to Turner’s office. Two of the others had pizza boxes from the place he’d ordered them from. He should never have paid over the phone.

They tossed the boxes on the side of Eric’s desk. A detective from Portland who’d been transferred to their team grinned. “Thanks for dinner.”

Eric flipped the lid of the top box open. A single strand of cheese remained. He pushed up the other. The entire ham-and-pineapple pizza was untouched.

“Charles!”

Eric looked over. Jonah shook hands with the mayor, but it was more businesslike than personal. He couldn’t tell if Jonah liked or disliked the mayor. Eric wasn’t sure if that said more about Charles or about Jonah.

Marshal Turner hauled his girth out of his chair and slapped Charles on the back. All three men broke into a round of manly chuckles, though Jonah’s laugh sounded more polite than anything else.

Eric sighed. The WITSEC office he’d worked in had been much smaller. Navigating the politics of a large fugitive apprehension team was proving to be a lot harder. It was going to take him a while to figure out each member of the team, and to ascertain how he fit into the group.

Eric slid out Hailey’s pizza box and handed it to her.

She frowned. “You don’t want any?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Hailey’s phone rang and she snapped it up. “Shelder.” She listened. “Thank you.”

She replaced the phone and looked at him. “Blood test has been done. They’re emailing over the results.”

She hopped up and strode to Turner’s door, knocked and stuck her head in. Seconds later Jonah strode out. Eric got up and met their huddle around Hailey’s desk, while she opened the email and scanned the test results.

“The blood found at the airport was degraded too much by rain and jet fuel. They weren’t able to pull together a pure enough sample to run through the system.”

Jonah’s eyes were dark. “So we’ve got nothing?” He glanced at Eric for a second, and then back at Hailey. “Both of you fire a shot, one of you hits someone with enough accuracy to make them bleed, and it turns up nothing?”

Eric folded his arms. The bad weather wasn’t their fault.

Hailey sat back in her chair. “We need another lead.”

“We need to find Deirdre.”

Hailey glanced at Eric and nodded. She’d done well earlier, coming up with the result they’d gained at Deirdre’s house. Anything was better than nothing.

Jonah glanced at the window, where rain was pounding against the glass and gray clouds hung low in the sky. “Get back out there. Get me something on Farrell.”

Eric nodded.

Hailey stood. “I have to pick up Kerry.”

Jonah said, “Okay. Do what you gotta do and then get back to work.” He turned to Eric. “We need to know who helped Farrell.”

Eric sat back down at his desk and watched Hailey pull on her jacket while Jonah strode back over to Turner’s office and let himself in. None of them had expected the blood test results to turn up absolutely nothing.

His phone rang. The display said Aaron.

Eric sighed, not at all in the mood to speak with his twin brother. No matter how many times he was going to call.

FIVE

Hailey sat in the car looking up and down the sidewalk for Kerry and her neon backpack. Eric’s disappointment in her refusing his offer of a partnership stung. Still, something kept Hailey on the ledge instead of jumping off and trusting Eric completely. She just didn’t want to admit to herself that it had everything to do with Charles.

Eventually the team was going to see her for the asset she was. Eric was a decent partner, but he didn’t get what she was trying to do. He had no need to prove himself to anyone, but Hailey had to keep the doubts at bay. She couldn’t let herself be ruled by what the people in this town had thought of her for so long.

Kerry needed to grow up knowing her mom fought for what she wanted. She needed to know what strength was and be able to call on it herself. Kids learned by example, and Hailey intended her life to show how far she could still go, in spite of the bad choices she’d made in her teen and college years. It was that or curl up and cry, and weakness was no good.

She called Charles.

“Yes?”

Did he have to say it like that? “Kerry isn’t here. Beth-Ann didn’t get her after all, did she?”

“I told you she has an appointment. Kerry isn’t in the cul-de-sac?”

“What cul-de-sac? I’m at the bus stop.” She shifted in her seat and peered out the windshield. There was a street a ways up—was that what he was talking about? And why couldn’t he have told her that in the first place?

He sighed. “Kerry waits to be picked up in the cul-de-sac.”

And if she didn’t know Hailey was the one picking her up, Kerry was probably waiting there. “North of the bus stop?” She got out and started walking, squinting to read the road sign. “Almera?”

“Yes.” He hung up.

Hailey shoved her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. She rounded the corner and saw a dark-colored muscle car stopped in the middle of the street at an angle. The driver’s door was open, and the dome light was on.

Farrell had a grip on Kerry’s arm, and was pulling her toward the car. Kerry was kicking at his legs, tugging on him and valiantly trying to dislodge his hold on her. That’s my girl.

“Hey!” Hailey drew her weapon as she ran. “Let her go, Farrell.”

Kerry’s whole body jerked and she looked over. “Mom!”

Hailey aimed her weapon at the escapee, her pounding pace bringing her closer to them. “Hands on your head, Farrell.”

His eyes narrowed when he saw how close she was. Had he been so focused on taking Hailey’s daughter he hadn’t registered her approach?

He let Kerry go and ran for the car door. Kerry yelped and hit the ground, landing in a sprawl on top of her backpack, which was still on her back.

Farrell pulled away, swinging the car around. The door slammed as he drove away.

Hailey knelt by Kerry. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Mom.” She smiled, but Hailey saw her lip quiver. “Thanks for not being late.”

Hailey hauled her daughter to her feet and wrapped her arms around her. She gave Kerry a quick squeeze before she leaned back, pulling out her phone. “One second, okay?”

Kerry saw the cell phone and nodded, burrowing into Hailey’s coat.

Hailey looked down at her while the phone rang. “Where’s your jacket? You’re soaked.”

Kerry shrugged. “I was too hot.”

On the other end of the line, Jonah picked up. “Rivers.”

“Farrell just tried to abduct Kerry.”

It took ten minutes for them to reach the cul-de-sac, at which point Hailey and Kerry were both soaked, though she’d made Kerry get out the jacket from her backpack and actually put it on.

Jonah’s gaze scanned Kerry as he walked over. “Both of you okay?”

Hailey nodded under the umbrella she’d retrieved from her trunk, and Kerry moved closer to her. The passel of big men all making their way over was likely an imposing sight.

She turned Kerry away from them, and said, “Tell me what happened.”

Kerry took a deep breath. “I got off the bus with Sara, but Beth-Ann always waits in the cul-de-sac. When I walked around the corner she wasn’t there yet. So I waited.”

Hailey’s stomach was so tight it hurt. She shouldn’t have eaten that pizza.

“I was texting you to say bye, because I knew I wouldn’t see you until after school on Monday. I heard a car pull up, and I thought it was Beth-Ann. This big dude was getting out. He looked like Carissa’s dad.”

That meant he had long, dirty blond hair. Like Farrell.

Jonah caught her gaze and mouthed, Farrell?

Hailey nodded and looked back at Kerry. “What happened then?”

“I backed up, but he grabbed me. So I screamed as loud as I could. And then I did that thing you showed me, and I stomped his foot. I think it worked because I have my boots on. He yelped, and I yanked my arm hard and then I saw you and he let go of me.” Kerry took a deep breath.

“Did he say anything?”

Kerry shook her head, her cheeks flushed.

Hailey knew her daughter’s instincts were sharp, because she’d made sure they were that way. Kerry didn’t need to live in a bubble in which the world was a safe place. That was a lie. She needed to be able to take care of herself.

And this proved it.

A Mercedes pulled around the corner, braking suddenly right in front of them. Charles parked and jumped from the car.

“Daddy!”

Kerry shoved the umbrella at Hailey and flew to him, burying herself in his chest. Charles patted her head and looked at Hailey. “What’s this about your escaped fugitive almost kidnapping my daughter?”

My daughter. Not our daughter. Hailey didn’t have time to get into that with him, so she let it go. “It’s true.”

She wasn’t going to lie. Charles needed to be concerned. Hailey wanted him on high alert when it came to watching out for Kerry this weekend, not assuming the danger was over, since the guy got away.

Maybe she could get her dad to stay at a hotel for a few days as well.

Hailey sighed, realizing she needed to let Kerry go with Charles. She turned to Jonah. “Do we need Kerry any longer, or can she get out of the rain?”

“She can go.”

Hailey looked at Charles. “Why don’t you get her settled at your house?”

Kerry turned back from the embrace with her dad and looked at Hailey.

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

Kerry nodded and sniffed, pulling away from her father. Hailey put her hand on Kerry’s cheek. “You did great.” She wiped her daughter’s tears with her thumbs and then kissed her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Charles looked down his nose at Hailey. “We’re going to be talking about this.”

Hailey smiled sweetly. “I’ll look forward to that.”

She watched Kerry go with Charles. It was like having her heart ripped out, every single time. Gifting someone she didn’t totally trust with everything that was valuable to her and trying to be okay with it.

She could do a drive-by check of their house later, and Kerry had the cell phone Charles had given her for Christmas. It wasn’t like Hailey would be out of the loop. But tell her heart that.

Jonah yelled, “Parker. Ames. You’re on protection detail.” He turned back to her and Eric, folding his arms again. She’d decided a while back it was his default thinking pose. “What is your read on this situation?”

Hailey took a breath. “I just don’t know why he would pick Kerry, of all people. Is he trying to get to me? Surely there’s someone better on the team. Or is this because he saw me at Deirdre’s?” She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Hailey was shaking, the aftereffects of what had just happened. She gripped the umbrella handle tighter.

Standing beside Jonah, Eric’s frame was dwarfed by their boss’s. “You taught her self-defense?”

“Yes.” Hailey frowned at him. Didn’t every parent do that? His eyebrows twitched. “She has to be able to protect herself.”

Eric lifted his hands. “Hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing at all. Not if it potentially saved her life.”

His words penetrated her heart, and Hailey’s stomach turned over. Her hands shook more, and sweat broke out along her hairline.

Eric’s face flashed with worry. “Hailey—”

Jonah stepped forward until his head was almost under the umbrella. “Take a deep breath. It’ll pass.”

Hailey waited through the surge of nausea, and then whispered, “He could have killed her. He could have taken her, and—”

Jonah said, “You gave her the skills to defend herself, and she did.”

Hailey nodded.

Jonah put his hand on her shoulder. “This won’t be the last time it hits you, but you just have to roll with it. You’re stronger than the fear. And smarter.”

Hailey stared at him, shocked that he seemed to know what he was talking about. And he’d actually complimented her. “I’m okay.”

Eric stepped closer. “I’m sorry. I’m glad she’s fine and that you were here. Kerry seems like a really level-headed kid. And if that’s down to you in part, then you must be a pretty great mom.”

Hailey didn’t know what to do with all the sweetness coming at her. These were supposed to be macho guys who took down fugitives and then grabbed the file for the next one and got to work. “All right, enough of the mushy stuff.”

Neither of them looked convinced that she wasn’t brushing off their concern just because she was uncomfortable. But they still let her do it.

Jonah’s phone rang. He stepped aside and spoke in a low tone.

Eric studied Hailey’s face, rain dripping off the front of his ball cap. “Are you really okay?”

“Of course not. My child nearly got abducted.”

“Are you going to be able to work this case? Jonah will probably let you work from the office until Farrell is found. It might be good for you to be out of the loop from now on.”

Hailey’s eyes narrowed. “Because Farrell thinks he can try to take my child? I don’t think so, Hanning. I’m not sitting this one out, no way. Just try and stop me from running this guy down and putting him away.”

“Good.” Eric nodded. “Anything you need, you just tell me.”

“Just like that?”

“Why not?”

Hailey didn’t know why not. No one had ever offered her unconditional assistance before. What was with this guy? They didn’t make men like this anymore. Maybe they all lived in Phoenix and never came north unless they were transferred for work, like Eric had been.

There was no other explanation. He had to have an ulterior motive. She just didn’t know what it was yet.

“What are you thinking about?”

Hailey jerked free from her thoughts. “Nothing.”

Eric’s lips curled up. “Sure it was.”

Hailey shook her head. “Who are you?”

Jonah strode back over. “Deirdre Phelps was marched into the marshal’s office by her father and his lawyer. She is prepared to answer our questions.”

SIX

Jonah said, “You want to do the interview, since it was your lead?”

Hailey couldn’t believe it. He wanted to give her the credit now?

Eric shifted and pinched her finger behind his back. “Yes, she does.”

Jonah walked to his vehicle. Hailey glanced at Eric and mouthed, What is going on? A smile stretched his lips, and he shrugged.

There must be something in the water, because the two of them were acting crazy. Jonah was giving her actual responsibility, and Eric was insisting he help her, with no strings attached. This whole week had been beyond bizarre. When she woke up tomorrow, maybe they would all be back to their usual prickly selves.

* * *

The car sprayed up water the whole way back to the office. Eric couldn’t imagine what Hailey was going through. Once upon a time he’d thought he would end up married with children of his own.

Sarah’s injury had killed whatever love existed between them when she couldn’t accept that Eric loved her even though she was paralyzed. Now he couldn’t see sharing his life with anyone, or living life as part of a couple instead of as his own man. He was far too set in his ways.

Eric glanced over at her, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. He had no frame of reference for the fear written on her face. His brother and Mackenzie, his brother’s wife, were his family. But they were capable adults who had seen their share of trouble and pulled through it together.

Hailey might need someone to partner with her so she could keep her focus, but apparently she didn’t want that person to be him. Eric had already offered to help her twice, and she’d turned him down both times. He wasn’t about to make the offer again, not when the rejection still stung. They could work together as part of the team, but if they were going to be true partners she had to be the one to bring it up next time.

* * *

Hailey entered the conference room, her clothes still damp, but with a fresh cup of coffee. Deirdre’s father was in the room, his stern eyes on his daughter. His hair was dyed dark brown, but his eyebrows and the chest hair in his open collar were mostly gray. He had a fake tan and gold rings on both hands. Thomas James Phelps the Third might have been a millionaire, but he was still a car salesman.

The lawyer looked old money. He seemed completely disinterested in the family drama going on.

Hailey set her cup on the table and sat. She gave Deirdre a small smile and tried something she’d never had occasion to use yet in her job. She cocked her head to the side. “Mrs. Henley’s English Lit class.” She pointed to the stunned woman across the table and smiled. “Back row, next to Gemma Malone.”

Deirdre blinked. “Who...?”

“Hailey Shelder. Front row, closest to the window.”

“No way!”

Hailey laughed. “Yeah, it’s not something I enjoy reliving.”

Deirdre laughed, but hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure she was supposed to. “I’m sure. I remember the hair.”

Hailey had learned with time to tame her big red hair. “It was definitely memorable.” They shared a laugh. When the moment died down, Hailey said, “I don’t remember Farrell, though.”

Deirdre’s smile dropped. “He didn’t go to school with us. He was older.”

“And you stayed friends all these years?”

“I wouldn’t say friends.” Deirdre swallowed, like there was a bad taste in her mouth. There was also an indecipherable look in her eyes Hailey couldn’t figure out. “He takes what he wants. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”

Hailey nodded. “How long has he been staying at your house?”

The lawyer raised his hand. He leaned in and spoke in Deirdre’s ear.

The woman nodded. “I just want to help you find him, to do my part as a concerned citizen.”

“Very well.” There wasn’t much else Hailey could say, not when Deirdre was here of her own volition. “Where can we find him?”

Deirdre squeezed her fingers together on the table. “He said something about getting his own. I figured he was talking nonsense, but it was like he really believed he was onto something.”

“Is he waiting for something? Or looking?”

“I think he’s still looking, which is why he said he couldn’t split town, because he’s not ready. Like he’s not sure where it’s at, whatever it is.” Deirdre ran a shaky hand through her hair, which was as perfect as it had been in high school. “But whatever it is, it’s the reason he escaped.”

“Did you give him anything, or do anything, or go anywhere because he asked you to?”

“No, he just asked a bunch of questions about going online and searching old newspapers and such. I told him to go to the library. I don’t know how to do that stuff.”

“What about the files in your house?” Hailey studied her. “What can you tell me about that?”

Deirdre shook her head. “I had no idea that was even there. He kept that door locked and didn’t tell me anything about it. I just want to forget all this happened. Please, catch him. You don’t know what he’s like.”

“Who helped him escape?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t help them?”

The lawyer shifted in his seat. Deirdre glanced at him and then said, “Steve just called me last weekend. I didn’t even know what was going on until I saw it on the news.”

“So you don’t know why Farrell had files on US marshals in your house? Private information.”

“No!”

“You realize this makes you an accomplice, right?”

Deirdre’s eyes widened. “I’m trying to help you.”

“So tell me what Farrell wants.”

“It’s nothing. He’s just looking for some jewelry or something. Stolen stuff from years ago. I don’t know anything else.”

Stolen jewelry?

Everything Hailey knew about unsolved thefts flipped through her mind like entries in a rolodex.

She grabbed her coffee and stood. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Phelps.”

* * *

Eric ran his hands down his face. Deirdre’s phone records were a lesson in too much money, too little responsibility. Her credit card statements were nauseating.

“Anything?”

Eric looked up. Jonah was beside his desk with the assessing look he got when he was testing you.

Eric said, “Phone records were a bust. I can’t help wondering about this stash Farrell is after, and what he wants from Kerry. If he had a hand in the original theft, then it could be an old score he never claimed. That would mean it’s been sitting for years, which is unlikely, but not impossible.”

Hailey was on the far side of the office at the coffee pot, pouring herself a cup. She had her thinking face on. He hoped she didn’t burn herself by accident.

Eric continued, “That also means we now have more accomplices to identify. Known associates, family and extended family members he might still have contact with.”

“Course of action?”

“Go back further. Look into possible associates and any heists they might have done. Scores which could’ve pulled in a haul big enough that he still wants to get his hands on it, even years later. Unsolved robberies, that kind of thing. Though, why he’s doing this now bothers me. And what it has to do with Hailey and her daughter.”

“So figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Hailey strode over, confident and graceful on her heels.

Eric shook his head. “Just talking about the case. How are you doing?”

Hailey sat, her face lacking expression. “I’m fine.”

Sure she was. Hailey might like to act tough, but he’d seen her checking her phone every thirty seconds since they left the police station, and typing furiously on it several times—replying to texts from Kerry, probably.

Jonah rapped his knuckles on the edge of the table. “Let me know what you come up with.”

Eric glanced at the window. The twilight sky was nearly black from the low clouds and the steady patter of rain. “It’s looking bad out there.”

“I guess.” Hailey squinted at the darkness outside. “Maybe Charles was right about flooding. I hope not. It won’t make catching Farrell any easier.”

“Have you worked a flood before?”

Hailey shook her head. “The last time there was a bad flood I was in junior high. The whole town was evacuated. Our house didn’t get damaged, because it’s on the top of a hill, and my dad decided it should be a safe zone.”

“Like a place for evacuees to go?”

She nodded, her eyes distant. “My mom was up for two days straight making coffee, getting more blankets and cooking for everyone. She passed away six months later. She had cancer.”

Eric winced. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Hailey turned to her work, so Eric did the same. Sitting there wasn’t going to accomplish much. Not if he didn’t look at the big picture, the efforts of the entire team.

The clock was ticking on their escapee. Days would soon turn into weeks, and the trail had been almost cold before Hailey discovered the Deirdre Phelps angle. He couldn’t deny she had a knack for this. But now the case had cracked open, and what had come out made about as much sense as Hailey’s pineapple on her pizza.

If this went on much longer, the likelihood of Farrell seriously hurting someone in pursuit of what he wanted would increase. They couldn’t risk losing Farrell forever. US marshals didn’t let that happen.

The team had been given a free pass with the abduction attempt on Kerry, but the longer Farrell was free, the more likely it was that he would try again—or turn his attention elsewhere. Another victim might not be as clearheaded as Kerry.

Eric felt a surge in his chest—care that he wasn’t sure was about Kerry or Hailey. He wanted to protect them both. If Farrell was targeting Hailey’s daughter, then Eric was going to do everything in his power to help them stay safe until the escapee was back behind bars.

“Are you okay?”

Eric looked up. Hailey’s head was tilted to the side and her brow was crinkled. He shrugged one shoulder. “I was just thinking.”

“Must have been pretty deep. Who knew?”

Eric felt his mouth expand into a smile. She had a whole lot to learn if she thought he was just another federal agent, all brawn and no brains. He tapped his mouse and a picture came up. “Bingo.”

Hailey got up and came over. “What do you have?”

“A picture of Farrell from his high school yearbook—not that he ever graduated. I figured it might come in handy for finding who his friends were and seeing what he was up to.”

Hailey gasped.

“What?”

“That’s...” She sputtered. “Farrell is...”

“Hailey. What?”

“He was one of Charles’s friends.”

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