OPERATION BABY RESCUE

To rescue an abducted infant from a baby-smuggling ring, U.S. marshal Colton Phillips has to work with FBI agent Lisette Sutton. But their tactics couldn’t be more different. The too-pretty agent goes by the book, whereas Colton breaks rules to get the job done. Colton vows to keep his heart out of the job, but his unwanted attraction to Lisette lowers his guard. Now Lisette—and an innocent child—are in grave danger, and Colton will stop at nothing to save them.

Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight

“We’ll need all the help we can get on this case,” Colton said. “A child’s life is involved.”

He pulled out onto the highway, the road slick with the fresh snow. “From what I’ve read about you,” he continued, “you’ve worked on a lot of cases involving children. Why?”

“As a teenager I worked at a day-care center,” Lisette said. “At church every Sunday, I took care of the babies. I loved it.”

“Then why did you go into law enforcement? Why not a teacher or something?”

“Because I wanted to be like my…” Her voice faltered, and she went quiet.

Colton glanced at her. Her expression was closed, distant, her gaze slanting away from him. He’d hit upon a sensitive subject she didn’t want to discuss, which made him only more curious.

* * *

MARGARET DALEY

feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun. Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for more than twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.

The Baby Rescue

Margaret Daley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

—John 3:16

To Marcella, who has supported me throughout my writing career

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

Ice spattered the windshield and laid a thin layer on the streets and sidewalks. Trees began to sag with the extra weight on their limbs. U.S. Deputy Marshal Colton Phillips leaned forward and inspected the roiling dark gray clouds moving in from the west. At least the roads were still passable; the weather lately had been warm in St. Louis, especially for February.

But he didn’t have much time to get his witness to the St. Louis Downtown Airport. He was meant to transport the man to his temporary new home in Denver. The pilot of the U.S. Marshals Service’s jet had called earlier to warn Colton that, due to the weather, the airport would most likely shut down within forty minutes. Which didn’t leave him much time to make the flight.

Colton kept his gaze trained on the lead black SUV in front of his own. He kept some distance between them in case Josh McCall, the marshal driving, had to stop suddenly on the slippery road. Colton had memorized the route to the airport as well as alternative ones in case of trouble. And the more time ticked down and the slower the traffic went, the tenser Colton became.

When they reached a stoplight, he glanced in his rearview mirror at Don Saunders, the low-life criminal who had bargained his way into the Witness Protection Program in exchange for information on a child-smuggling organization. His skin crawled at the sight of Saunders’s smug look.

Weasel was too kind of a description for his witness. Scumbag fit the man better. Behind Don’s cold, small dark eyes, Colton didn’t glimpse much intelligence, but what the criminal lacked in that area he made up for with a bulky frame over six and a half feet tall and a rock-hard muscular physique. According to the records, Saunders lifted weights in his spare time between illegal activities—the last being the kidnapping of Annie Duncan and her two-year-old daughter, Sophia.

It wasn’t his job to question why a creep like Don Saunders would get into WitSec after what he’d done. But it didn’t stop Colton’s gut from clenching at the expression on Saunders’s face as they slowly wended their way through the traffic toward the airport.

At a four-way stop, Colton waited his turn to proceed, scanning the area. His gaze latched on to the other Denver U.S. Marshal, Quinn Parker, who accompanied him in the backseat next to their witness, his attention glued on Saunders. At least Colton didn’t have to worry about the criminal trying to escape while he was driving them. Parker was by-the-book, down to the last detail. His job was to keep Saunders in place while Colton drove or at this moment crept.

The lead SUV crossed the intersection, and Colton pulled up to the corner, his brakes gripping the street but not enough to stop without sliding a few feet.

He looked both ways while Don Saunders mumbled, “You need to go back to driving school.”

Colton gritted his teeth and ignored the man’s comment—one of many complaints he’d expounded on in the short time Colton had been in his presence. Deputy U.S. Marshals Josh McCall and Serena Summers had briefed him and Parker on Saunders’s activities that led to his being put in WitSec. The man claimed the death of Annie Duncan’s husband was just the tip of a huge organization.

An old Mustang approached from the right, slowing down. Colton eased his foot down on the accelerator and started across. The driver of the Mustang suddenly picked up speed, running the stop sign and fishtailing around the corner into the lane ahead of him. Colton slammed on his brakes to avoid hitting the guy. Again Colton lost control for a few seconds as the back end of the SUV swung around partway before coming to a stop. He quickly checked in the rearview mirror behind him, catching sight of Saunders on the right side in back.

With his hands secured behind him, Saunders jerked forward, the seat belt halting his forward motion. The man let out a few choice words. “You’re supposed to protect me, not get me killed in a wreck.”

“Okay, Parker?” Colton glanced over his shoulder at the other marshal.

“Fine,” he muttered, his attention on Saunders, his hand on his gun.

Colton corrected the SUV’s direction, then continued forward, falling in behind the Mustang still traveling between him and the lead car. His gut rumbled with tension. He hated it when an operation didn’t go exactly as planned. He smiled, thinking back to the perfect operations he had participated in. Not many. That was why he always expected the unexpected.

A white truck trailed their SUV close, only feet from the bumper. Not good when the streets were icing over. Drivers should know better.

Colton’s hands tightened about the steering wheel, the hairs on his nape tingling. Something didn’t feel right about this. Nearing another stoplight, he reached for his cell phone to call the lead SUV when the Mustang came to an abrupt halt in front of him, forcing Colton to stomp on the brakes and skid to a stop, missing the car by inches.

The vehicle behind him plowed right into his bumper. The grinding crash of metal on metal filled his ears. The collision jarred his SUV and shoved it into the Mustang. In the side mirror, Colton saw a large man exit the truck and saunter toward him. Colton searched for the lead SUV, which was halfway down the street slowing down, but with the heavy traffic, changing directions wouldn’t be easy.

“The guy in the passenger’s side is getting out, too. He may have a gun under his coat,” Marshal Parker said, pushing Saunders down in the seat.

Wearing a cowboy hat pulled low, the man in the Mustang also jumped out of his car and headed toward the SUV, a thunderous expression carved into his features.

Trapped. A setup?

Colton assessed his chances, made a quick decision and threw his car in Reverse, shoving the truck back a few feet to give him room to maneuver around the Mustang. Then, slamming his car into Drive, he swerved to the left and hit the accelerator as much as he dared with the slick conditions. He left the three men standing in the road. One man stuck his hand in his coat pocket.

“Duck,” Colton shouted as he took the corner, tossing a glance in the direction of Josh’s car. It had finally made a U-turn and was heading back toward the scene. Colton sped away, not wanting to stick around to find out if a gun was in that man’s pocket.

“Everyone okay?” Colton asked as he braked slightly to take another corner ten miles per hour too fast for icy roads. The back of the SUV swerved from one side to the other, but Colton righted it and increased his speed as much as he could afford to.

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Twenty-five minutes to get to the plane.

“No, I’m not okay. What if I had been shot? Not to mention the possibility of whiplash. This isn’t keeping me safe. If you two can’t keep—” Saunders yelled.

“We’re fine back here.” Parker’s calm voice cut into Saunders’s tirade.

Keeping his gaze swiveling between the road and his rearview mirror, Colton fumbled for the phone button in the SUV and speed-dialed the other marshals in the lead vehicle. “I’m taking a different route to the bridge. Take care of those guys. I’ll get Saunders to the airport,” he told Josh McCall.

“I’ve called for support. A police car isn’t far away. When they come, I’ll catch up with you.”

That might or might not happen. He was on his own as far as Colton was concerned. “Was that little accident planned? Do they have guns?”

“Don’t know. They’re angry and so are the other motorists around them. Traffic is backing up. I’ll call you after this is straightened out. How are you going?”

Colton gave Josh another route he’d mapped out in his mind in case something didn’t feel right. He always had a backup plan. “If they’re after Saunders, how did they know about this transport from the safe house? How did they even know he was in custody?”

“Don’t know, but believe me, we’ll be looking into it. Keep to the plan. Don’t go off doing your own thing.” Steel thread ran through Josh’s voice—a man whom Colton had butted heads with over how this case should be handled in the short time Colton had been in St. Louis. Since Josh’s partner had been killed recently, Colton thought he was afraid to take a risk. It was just as well that Colton’s only business there was to transport Saunders to Denver. Actually, Colton had come up with several different ways to get to the airport. Up ahead the stalled traffic forced him to swing his vehicle down a side street and take another direction than what he’d told Josh. Until he knew what was going on, he had to think the worst: those guys in the white truck and Mustang were gunning for Don Saunders.

“This ain’t the way you told him.” Saunders hugged the door as though trying to get out.

“Worried your boss got wind of your change of allegiance even with all our precautions?” Colton couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice, glad the specialized lock made it impossible for the man to dive out of the SUV.

“No. Unless you guys told him.” Saunders threw a glare at Colton, then Parker.

Saunders was being transported to Denver because one of the pieces of information he told them was that he was supposed to meet a contact there involved in the smuggling ring. He wouldn’t say anything else about it until he was out of St. Louis. If anyone got wind of Saunders being in custody, he wouldn’t be able to meet the contact in Denver.

Colton took another turn, pushing the SUV as fast as he could safely go if no one suddenly stopped in front of him. “Nope. Kinda hard to tell him anything when we don’t know who he is. But remember this deal goes away if you don’t keep your end of the bargain.”

Saunders snorted. “Please. Quit trying to be the big, tough marshal. I know what’s at stake here.”

“This big, tough marshal will be in charge of your detail in Denver, responsible for your safety. So play nice.”

Parker chuckled. “Yep, you only get to see our pretty mugs for your stay in the Mile High City.”

Saunders muttered something under his breath and twisted toward the side window.

Was he watching for the Mustang or white truck? Had he somehow alerted a colleague he was being moved to Denver? Or did the criminals he was going to rat on know he was in the U.S. Marshals’ custody? If so, how? His arrest had been kept quiet. As far as the world and Saunders’s colleagues knew, he had gotten away from the law enforcement team in the warehouse. But if that accident had been deliberately caused, the ruse might not have worked. Colton checked his surroundings as he weaved his way through the small side streets of St. Louis toward the downtown airport. So far no Mustang or white truck was on his tail. They weren’t far away now from their destination, but Colton knew better than to let up on his vigilance. From the times he had worked with Marshal Parker in Denver, he knew Parker was good, but Colton never trusted anyone totally with his life. He’d seen too much to.

As he fell into the flow of the traffic on the Poplar Street Bridge over the Mississippi River, he ground his teeth together. The small jet the U.S. Marshals used to transport witnesses wasn’t flying out of the main St. Louis airport, which he prayed would help his chances to get Saunders to the plane without further incident before the big ice and snow storm hit St. Louis full force.

But if someone was watching the four bridges over the river near St. Louis, he could be driving into a trap. No amount of zigzagging through the streets of the city would change the fact that there were ultimately only a few ways to the airport on the Illinois side of the Mississippi. That was if they knew they weren’t using the Lambert–St. Louis International Airport.

In the rearview mirror he caught sight of the top of a white truck back five cars. Could it be the same one that had smashed into his SUV? He couldn’t take the chance. Pushing his foot down on the accelerator, he changed lanes as he neared the Illinois side of the river.

“We may have a tail,” Colton told Parker.

The other marshal pushed Saunders down again, but not without grumbling from the witness. Some people didn’t appreciate the efforts the U.S. Marshals Service went through to protect them.

The most direct route to the airport from their position was taking Highway 3. Colton approached the exit. The white truck switched to the same lane. At the last second Colton changed his mind, zipping over the rougher pavement back into the stream of cars to take another exit farther down the road. A few horns honked. He increased his speed, putting as much distance between him and the white truck.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?” His face beet red, Saunders straightened to look out the back window.

“Calm down. I know what I’m doing.” Colton glimpsed the ashen cast to his partner’s face.

“You do?” Saunders asked as Parker again pushed the man down on the seat. “Don’t look like it to me. One second you’re going off the highway. The next not.”

“I took lessons to learn to drive this way.”

Saunders harrumphed while Parker laughed, switching his attention between the witness and the traffic behind them. Although glad to have help in keeping an eye on the vehicles around them, Colton didn’t drop his own alertness. At least on the east side of the Mississippi River the roads weren’t as icy since the cold front just started to blow through the area—possibly giving him enough time to get to the plane before the airport shut down.

Lord, give me the patience to deal with this witness. He’s going to test what little I have.

Again Colton proceeded toward an exit, but this time he took it at fifteen miles over the speed limit. He checked his rearview mirror. No white truck. He blew a long breath out slowly. They weren’t safe yet. In his mind he pulled up the map he’d studied and began crisscrossing his way toward the west and the airport, coming in a back way.

His car phone rang with a call from Marshal McCall. He punched it on.

“The police rounded up the three guys involved in the accident. They’ve been taken in for questioning. We don’t know if it was intentional or not. They say no, but then that’s to be expected. Keep your eyes alert. There could be someone else in case those three failed.”

“Assume the worst?”

“You’ve got it. Are you at the airport yet?” Josh asked.

“Almost. We had to take a detour. I thought I saw the truck behind me on the highway. I guess I didn’t.”

“Detour? Where? We’re on Highway 3 right now, nearing the exit for the airport.”

“We’re coming in from the other side. Maybe five minutes away. Let them know at the airport.” If all goes well.

A heavy sigh came through the connection. No doubt Josh McCall wasn’t too happy he’d changed the plans without telling him, but Colton had been busy driving in icy conditions.

“See you at the plane.” The tightness in the St. Louis–based U.S. Marshal’s voice expressed his irritation.

The dark gray clouds raced toward them. Rain splattered the windshield with ice increasingly pelting against the glass. Colton floored the accelerator as much as he dared, only slowing down when he had to make a turn into the airport.

Colton kept his focus on the U.S. Marshals Service’s jet parked near a hangar and took the SUV across the fields between runways where the terrain was rough, easier to drive on with ice. He hit a hole in the ground and bounced up, thumping his head on the car’s roof. Saunders grunted and spewed a few more curses.

The jet was only another hundred yards away. Once he got Saunders on the plane he could relax, at least until they reached Denver. Then the real work began: getting more useful information from Don Saunders. What they did with it would depend on if those three guys were after Saunders.

Parking near the steps into the jet, Colton threw a glance over his shoulder as he saw the lead SUV heading for them. “Let’s get him inside.”

He came around to open the back door while Parker moved across the seat and followed Saunders out of the vehicle. As Colton kept watch, Parker hurried their witness onto the jet.

Marshal McCall and his partner, Serena Summers, exited their car and made their way over to Colton. From the body language pouring off the woman whenever she and Josh were together, Colton wondered about how well the pairing of those two marshals was going.

His brown eyes diamond hard, Josh got in Colton’s face. “Your risky driving and going off on your own could have resulted in someone getting killed.”

He held his ground and tapped down his anger, saying in a controlled voice, “It didn’t and it could have possibly saved our witness’s life if that was a planned accident. Sometimes we can’t stick around and ask those questions. Our witness is here and safe.” With a smile, he nodded toward Serena, a beautiful woman with long brown hair and a look of sadness in her eyes, no doubt from the death of her brother, Daniel, Josh’s partner. “Now if you’ll excuse me, we need to get out of here while we still can.”

As Colton mounted the steps to the jet, his shoulders sagged with weariness, the adrenaline rush subsiding. And this was just the beginning of his part in the case.

* * *

FBI Agent Lisette Sutton entered the Supervisory U.S. Marshal Tyler Benson’s office in Denver, and two men rose. She supposed the taller one of the pair, standing in front of the oak desk must be U.S. Deputy Marshal Colton Phillips, the person she would be teamed with in this case involving child smuggling and baby brokering across state lines. She shook his hand first, then the marshal’s behind the desk.

“I’ve been assigned to work the Saunders case with you.” From growing up in New Orleans, it had taken her years to drop the y’all from her speech. Outside of the South, she found that the word didn’t sound businesslike—too casual—and she was determined to make it in an occupation still dominated by men.

“Have a seat, Agent Sutton. Your boss called me half an hour ago.” U.S. Marshal Benson gestured toward the chair next to her new partner.

As she took the seat, she slid a glance toward U.S. Marshal Phillips, quickly assessing his medium-length dirty-blond hair and strong profile. He swung his gaze toward her and locked on to hers. His startlingly blue eyes fringed in long lashes caught hold of her, and for a moment she couldn’t look away. His eyes were intense. Focused. Assessing her as she had him. Her stomach fluttered. Slowly one corner of his mouth tilted up, and he glanced away. Surprised by her momentary reaction to Colton, Lisette centered her full concentration on Benson, resolved not to let anything or anyone divert her from the job to be done.

“From what Don Saunders has given us so far, we’re dealing with a black-market baby adoption ring that covers a good part of the United States, possibly even other countries.” Benson shuffled a couple of folders until he found the one he wanted and opened it.

That was the reason she would be working with the marshals’ team guarding Saunders. If what the man said was true, all kinds of federal laws have been broken. But the reason she’d pleaded with her superior to be assigned to the case was the fact it involved children, her specialty.

Benson cleared his throat. “Now that Saunders is here in Denver and settled into a safe house, we need more. He has additional information he’s promised the marshals in St. Louis once he was out of the area. That office went to a great deal of trouble to make it look like Saunders escaped the police so Saunders could maintain his ties with the organization. He insisted on coming to Denver because of some contact he has here. He told them he has a good reason and would tell us when he safely arrives. He has arrived. Time to question the man, and if he’s bluffing, call him on it if he wants to remain in WitSec.”

“I heard from my boss there was an incident yesterday in St. Louis. What happened? Will that affect his usefulness within the organization?” Shifting toward Colton, Lisette peered at him, wiping any kind of expression from her face. She’d learned to shut down her emotions. She couldn’t make a mistake like her mother, a former FBI agent, had. Emotions could get in Lisette’s way of doing the best job possible. Her mom had been accused of taking dirty money from a crime scene and then later not backing up her partner. When she’d tried to talk to her mother right after it happened, she wouldn’t say much at all, leaving Lisette to think the worst—her mom had betrayed her partner and the FBI.

“A couple of guys interrupted our transport to the airport. I talked with Marshal McCall in St. Louis this morning. They have interrogated the three men involved in the wreck and run background checks. There doesn’t appear to be any connection to the criminal elements in St. Louis. The marshals are digging deeper to make sure the trio is exactly what they claim to be. We have to assume at this time they are what they say and proceed forward if we’re going to use Saunders’s contact in Denver.”

“Who are the people involved in the wreck?” Lisette kept her gaze trained on the cleft in Colton’s chin, chancing only an occasional glance at his eyes, which were a beautiful sky-blue—attention grabbing. I never call a man’s eyes “attention grabbing.” What in the world is going on here?

Colton zeroed in on her. “The two in the white truck are ranchers who were in St. Louis yesterday on business. The guy in the Mustang works at a hospital and was late for his shift.”

“Or so they say. With enough money and expertise a background and identity can be built. You all do it all the time.” Lisette lifted her gaze to his, as intense and direct as he was. She could play this game—she could see he was trying to exert his dominance over her early on in their partnership.

“We had him at a safe house in St. Louis—not the U.S. Marshals’ office. A limited amount of people knew about him even within the U.S. Marshals Service, so it’s not likely he was compromised.”

“Could Don Saunders have orchestrated an escape somehow?”

“Again not likely. It’s not as if he had access to a phone at the safe house or as if he ever left the place. The only time he made calls was to support the story that he got away. Those calls were monitored.”

“Cell phones are small and can be concealed,” Lisette said, aware that suddenly it was as if she and Colton were the only two in the office, that his supervisor was a bystander following their conversation. “If he wasn’t kept in a jail cell, he had some freedom at the house. I doubt they had eyes on him twenty-four hours a day.”

Colton shifted toward her, his large hands clasping the arms of the chair. “I was one of his guards that last day in St. Louis. He was thoroughly checked for a cell. I’ve been doing this for years. I know my job.” A grin flirted with the corners of his mouth for a few seconds before becoming full-fledged.

“But if he has been compromised in any way, our chance to find out more about this organization and catch the others involved will vanish. A smuggling ring like this can’t exist. Children are involved.” She hadn’t meant for the last sentence to come out so vehemently, but she’d never forget her first case with the FBI—a child abduction that didn’t end well. It left a mark on her that she’d never be able to erase, especially since her younger sister had died of SIDS when Lisette was a child. There had been a time she’d wanted a family—children. Now she found that focusing entirely on her career was safer for her emotionally. It was too hard for her to depend on others who could let her down.

Dead seriousness replaced his smile. Colton sat forward, closer to her. “I know exactly what’s at stake with this case.”

He snared her attention as though trying to read her mind. Silence ruled. Tension charged the air. Her voice had given her away. Had she revealed something else in her expression?

Marshal Benson coughed. “You have a drive ahead of you. Hash it out in the car. We’re lead on this case, Agent Sutton, but we value the FBI’s input.”

In other words, Marshal Colton Phillips would run the show. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t make her views known. She had six years of experience in the FBI, and before that, she’d been a police officer. “Who is Saunders’s contact in Denver? And is this going to help us?” Lisette dragged her gaze from Colton and directed her question to his boss.

Before the man could open his mouth, Colton answered, “That’s what we’re going to the safe house to find out.” He stood. “I’ll bring the car around front.”

He left his supervisor’s office without a backward glance toward Lisette. The atmosphere defused with his departure.

She’d heard Colton was a maverick who often got results by acting and thinking outside the box. She had serious misgivings about working with someone like that. She’d even considered asking her superior to assign another FBI agent when she’d heard who her partner would be. But she couldn’t walk away, not when children were involved. That overrode all misgivings she had about her partner for this case. Which left her working with the type of law enforcement officer she tried to steer clear of. Her mother had been like that, doing whatever it took to get the job done, and she’d ended up discredited. She resigned from the FBI not long after Lisette had graduated from the FBI Academy at Quantico. It was not a stellar way to start her career—the daughter of a disgraced agent who hadn’t backed up her partner and had been suspected of taking money from a crime scene.

She stiffened her spine. She would make the best of a bad situation and rise above any shortcoming Colton Phillips might have. Then she remembered something else she’d heard about the man: he got results so the U.S. Marshals Service tolerated him.

She wanted to be more than just tolerated. She wanted to prove not all Suttons were the same. She wasn’t anything like her mother.

“Agent Sutton, Marshal Phillips is a bit unorthodox, but he does get the job done. After you two get the rest of the information from Saunders, we can then decide the best way to proceed. My children are teenagers, but it wasn’t that long ago they were babies. One crime that bothers me more than anything is one against a child. We need to get the people behind this ring.”

Lisette rose, gripping the straps of her purse. “I totally agree. If Saunders has any info, we’ll get it out of him.”

Marshal Benson pushed to his feet and stretched his arm across the desk. “We don’t have a lot of time to play with here. According to Saunders, something is going down soon.”

Lisette shook his hand. “I understand. Good day.”

She took the stairs to the first floor and exited the building, scanning the cars for Colton. A honk sounded in the early morning, drawing her attention. The man climbed from a black Firebird—obviously not a U.S. Marshals Service’s vehicle. The highly polished car gleamed in the sunlight.

She approached him. “I’m surprised this Firebird isn’t red.”

“I thought about that, but I didn’t want to be too obvious. I’ve got to blend into traffic sometimes.” He started to round the front. “Let’s go.”

She watched him. “You want me to drive?”

A look of horror momentarily graced his face, then his expression evened out. “No way anyone else gets behind the wheel of my car.” He opened the passenger door. “I was being a gentleman.”

A flush seared her cheeks, and she stared at him over the top of the Firebird. “I’ll follow you in my car.”

“What is it?”

“A navy blue Ford SUV.” She gestured toward where it was parked in the lot nearby.

He chuckled. “That screams ‘federal agent.’ No, we’ll use my car.”

For a long moment she drilled her gaze into him. He didn’t waver but returned her stare. Then she heaved a sigh and skirted the rear to the Firebird. “And your car screams ‘I want to drag race.’”

“I haven’t tried that. Maybe I’ll take up that sport someday.”

She slid into the passenger seat, aware of the close interior in the Firebird. She should have insisted on driving them in her SUV, or at the very least following him.

He still held the door. She reached to close it, but he shut it instead. Then he grinned at her and came around to his side, his movements economical and fluid. He caught her staring out the windshield at him and gave her another cocky grin.

She refused to look away.

He settled behind the wheel and started the engine. “I promise you that before this assignment is over, I will show you what this baby can do.”

A male and his car. She rolled her eyes and peered out her side window. She’d been excited about the new assignment. It had the potential to prove to her superiors she wasn’t anything like her mother, but now she was having major doubts about her partner. This was going to be a long assignment.

TWO

Before putting the Firebird into Drive, Colton twisted toward Agent Lisette Sutton. “We need to get a few things straight right from the start.” He waited until she turned her head toward him, not one emotion visible on her face. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, curious to see what she would do. He hadn’t wanted to team up with an FBI agent, especially one he knew nothing about.

One of her eyebrows arched. “We’re in a no-parking zone.”

“I think it would be safer to talk about this without driving. The conversation needs our full attention.”

She released a long breath. “Then tell me before I grow old.”

“You and I may not perform our duties the same way, but in this case I am the lead. I just wanted to make sure you heard fully what my boss said about this being under the U.S. Marshals Service’s jurisdiction.”

“My hearing is perfectly fine.” Lisette Sutton fiddled with her glasses.

“Then I have the final say in how we operate. I have been a marshal for ten years with a high success rate. I know what to do.”

“I heard you the first time in Marshal Benson’s office,” she said with little inflection in her voice, her expression neutral.

“Good, then there should be no problems between us.”

“For your information, I won’t blindly follow anyone’s order.” She looked him squarely in the eye, anger piercing through him. “There are rules and procedures in place for a reason.”

Colton’s gut hardened as though preparing for a punch while his hands balled. “What have you heard about me?”

“I work with an FBI agent who was assigned to Miami at the same time you were. He told me you went into a house without a search warrant, jeopardizing the case.”

“But I saved the witness. There wasn’t any time to get a warrant. When it comes to people I’m protecting, I do what I must to keep them alive. That is my primary duty.” He threw the car into Drive and pulled out into the traffic.

His tight grip around the steering wheel made his hands ache after ten minutes. He loosened his hold. He’d had to grab the witness in the case she’d referred to because of a mess-up with the FBI. The agent for the Bureau had taken an eye off the witness, and he’d escaped because he was scared testifying put him in jeopardy. Colton wondered if she knew the whole story: that the agent responsible had lost his job over the mistake. In Lisette Sutton’s point of view Colton had to prove himself, but as far as Colton was concerned, she had to prove herself to him. He trusted no one, and especially not an officer who was inflexible. He’d learned that inflexibility could get a person killed.

The atmosphere in his car could freeze a person faster than a Nor’easter in the dead of winter. Colton kept his gaze trained on his surroundings but occasionally found himself slanting a look toward his partner. Lisette Sutton sat ramrod straight in the passenger seat, her head held high, emphasizing her long, slender neck. Her mouth set in a firm line disguised the fullness of her lips—not that he’d dwelled on that in his supervisor’s office or when he’d shared his opinion in the car earlier. But he had to admit her sea green eyes had drawn his attention over and over, even though they were hidden behind those brown-framed glasses she kept fidgeting with. This FBI agent was all business. Her bearing, right down to her blond hair, a deep golden shade, pulled back into a tight bun, shouted that fact to the world. Even her outfit—black pants with a matching suit coat and a plain white blouse—supported that impression.

Maybe, like him, she wasn’t too thrilled to be babysitting a criminal like Don Saunders. He understood the need to give deals to catch the big fish in a pond of scum, but it still bothered him when he dealt with ones like Saunders. His faith was the only thing that made this palatable. In the end Saunders would get his due. He would be held accountable for his actions with the Lord.

“How much farther is it?” Lisette Sutton asked in a husky voice that almost betrayed her businesslike demeanor.

“Another fifteen minutes. The safe house is out a ways—not a lot of neighbors to wonder what’s going on.”

“Also harder for Mr. Saunders to catch a ride somewhere.”

“True.”

“Who’s with him right now?” She shifted toward him, her posture not as tense as before.

And for some reason that made the confines of his car even smaller. His gut clenched at the same time his hands did on the steering wheel. “Marshals Janice Wallace and Neil Simms. The other on the team is Quinn Parker, who will be at the house later.”

He took the exit off Interstate 70. At the intersection of the off ramp and a country road, he came to a stop and made the mistake of glancing at her. His gaze collided with hers. A faint red colored her cheeks, and she turned away.

Her stiff carriage returned, her shoulders thrust back. The temperature in the car dropped even more. He made a right turn onto the two-lane highway, a wall of mountains on his left blanketed with snow. At least the roads were cleared.

“Is our destination up in the mountains?” She finally broke the silence a few miles down the road.

“No, at the foot of one. The area around here is beautiful and worth exploring in your free time. Have you had a chance to do much sightseeing?”

“No.”

“How long have you been in Denver?”

“Six months. How about you?”

“Two years.” About the extent he would stay in any one place. That was why he had applied for the open position in St. Louis. Colton was bummed that he didn’t get it. “How do you like Denver so far? Have you found a place to stay yet?” he asked, trying to play nice with the Ice Queen and learn about his new partner.

“When I first moved here, I lived in one of those extended-stay hotels. Hated it. I was out searching for a place every spare moment I had. I found a nice acceptable apartment in only a week.”

“I still haven’t gotten around to finding an apartment. I don’t mind the extended-stay hotel I’m at. It’s just a place to sleep. I’m looking to move to another assignment when this case is over with.” Why did he reveal that? He didn’t usually offer much personal information even to someone he was working with.

“During that week I felt like I lived out of my suitcase. Hotels always give me such a temporary feeling.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to that. It doesn’t bother me. No obligation on my part. No lease.” There was a time it had bothered him. But as a child, after his third move to yet another foster home, he’d begun to accept that would be his normalcy, and he’d better get used to it. So everywhere he lived he’d learned to accept it was only temporary, and eventually he embraced that way of life. Even as an adult he moved a lot, usually only staying at a post no more than a year or two. It was easier that way. He didn’t become invested in his coworkers’ lives. So much better when he left if he wasn’t too close to his coworkers.

Colton turned onto a gravel road still covered with snow that winded through some tall pines and aspens. He called the marshals in the cabin where Saunders was being kept. “I’m nearly there. I’m glad to see no fog.” He gave his team members the code with the last sentence to let them know that he hadn’t been compromised. “Is everything all right?”

“Just peachy. Nothing unusual has happened,” Marshal Janice Wallace said, her voice getting lower with each word. “Except this witness is driving me crazy. Otherwise, Neil and I are having a grand ole time.”

“The cavalry is here to rescue you two.” He peered through the trees as he approached a bend in the road. “In fact, I’m pulling up now.” He took the curve, coming upon a log cabin in a small clearing with various evergreens mixed in with deciduous trees surrounding the open space. A blanket of pristine snow stretched out from the safe house.

“Yeah, we saw you coming and cheered. I’m surprised you didn’t hear us from the main highway,” Marshal Wallace said in reference to the two hidden cameras posted at the beginning of the gravel road.

“Was that the noise I heard? Glad you cleared that up.” Chuckling, Colton disconnected.

“Did something happen?” Agent Sutton—no, at least in his thoughts she was Lisette—panned the area as she unbuckled her seat belt.

“No, other than Saunders. He has such a winning personality that it doesn’t take long for him to drive a person crazy with his complaints and whining. When we had that incident on the way to the airport in St. Louis, he griped the whole way that I was trying to kill him. Believe me, if I had wanted to, he would be dead now.”

Lisette’s intriguing green eyes widened.

He grinned. “Just kidding.”

She blinked and pushed the door open, her professional facade completely in place. “I know that.” Her hand went to her glasses to straighten them.

He made her nervous. That was her sign—adjusting her glasses.

Marshal Wallace swung the door open and stood in the entrance. The tall woman with short black hair smiled. “Nice to see you two. Come in.” She stepped to the side, introducing herself to Lisette as they shook hands.

Colton entered the cabin behind Lisette, who paused a few feet inside to scan the large room with a massive fireplace along the back wall, a kitchenette off to the right and a hallway that led to the single bedroom. He liked the defensible layout. There was only one way into the cabin with one window in the bedroom; there were none in the bathroom or kitchen and three in the living area. Off to the side he noticed the computer sitting with shots of various camera views of the terrain and road near the safe house.

“Where’s Saunders?”

Marshal Neil Simms swiveled around in the chair before the laptop. “Hi, I’m Neil, Lisette.” He smiled, then turned his attention to Colton. “Still sleeping. He was up late complaining of his digs. You should wake him, or he’ll be up late again tonight when Janice and I have to take over.”

“But he no doubt needs his beauty sleep. The trip here yesterday was a tiring, stressful one.” Colton pressed his lips together to keep from grinning.

The two marshals on the night shift started for the exit. “Quinn is on his way here,” Simms said, and then opened the front door. “We’ll be back this evening. Have fun.”

The echo of the door clicking shut filled the small cabin. Colton looked at Lisette, who prowled the perimeter, glancing out each window. “I’m surprised those two didn’t wake up Saunders right before we showed up.” He strode toward the hallway to check on their witness.

“You’re going to wake him?” Amusement laced Lisette’s voice.

“You know the adage about never waking up a sleeping baby? I think it applies in this case, too, but I want to check on him.”

Her light laughter drifted to him as he made his way down the short hallway, checking the bathroom before opening the door to the bedroom. Saunders stood at the small window peering out.

“If you’re thinking of escaping, I’m not sure you would fit through it. In fact, I know you wouldn’t.”

Saunders stiffened his shoulders and pivoted toward Colton. “I thought I was rid of you, that they would fire you for your incompetence yesterday.”

“That incompetence is what would have saved you if those guys had been assassins. You could be dead if I had waited around to chitchat with them.”

“How do you know they weren’t sent to kill me?”

“Because we set up your cover well and those guys are being checked out thoroughly. We won’t proceed if they don’t check out.”

“Then how in the world do I know if I’m safe here?” Saunders pursed his mouth, thinning his cheeks.

“Unless you called someone, no one knows you’re in Denver.” Out of the corner of his eyes, Colton spied Lisette coming down the hall.

“You do. And the other two marshals guarding me last night.” Saunders’s eyes flared. “And her.”

Colton gritted his teeth. Lord, where is that patience?

Lisette positioned herself to his left and slightly behind him. “Mr. Saunders, I’m from the FBI and here to ask you some questions. Please come into the living room.” Her voice held a hint of a Southern accent, warm and almost inviting, adding a certain charm to her words.

Saunders stared at her for a long moment. “At least this lady is nice to look at. Can’t say that about the other one.”

Tension whipped down Lisette’s length and flowed from her in waves. “I beg your pardon.” The glare she sent Saunders would put most people who were smart in their place.

But not their witness. He roared with laughter. “Sassy, too. I bet you’re a handful.”

“In the living room, Mr. Saunders,” she said in a tight, husky voice, her Southern drawl more pronounced, but nothing warm and inviting in the tone anymore.

Interesting. The more angry Lisette Sutton became, the more her Southern heritage came out. Colton let Saunders move into the hall where the man faced Lisette.

“What are you afraid of? That some man might think you’re pretty if you let your hair down, took off those ridiculous glasses and wore proper feminine clothes?”

Lisette drilled her sharp gaze into Saunders to the point he frowned and continued his trek into the living area without another word.

“Are you okay?” Colton almost felt indignant for her at the sneer in Saunders’s voice.

She lifted her chin. “Of course. I won’t let someone like him get to me.” She adjusted her brown-framed glasses and followed Saunders.

“I heard that, little missy,” Saunders said with a laugh.

She didn’t break stride but kept going into the main room. Colton trailed her, admiring how she walked—like a soldier going into battle.

Silently he applauded her bravado. He’d read she was a good interrogator; this was one of the reasons she was assigned to this case. Saunders had been playing games with the U.S. Marshals Service from the first moment he was arrested in the warehouse and told them he had information that could lead to the downfall of a large child-smuggling network. He either had to produce useful information, or he would go to jail per the agreement Saunders had signed. Colton hoped Lisette could draw the information out of him.

Lisette sat at the kitchen table that seated four and gestured for Saunders to take the chair across from her. Colton decided to stand back and assess the witness while she started the interview.

She opened the folder she’d brought concerning the case, her movements precise, deliberate. “I see here you claimed that Joe Delacorte’s death was the tip of the iceberg, as per your conversation with Marshals McCall and Summers, who talked with you last in St. Louis. So what are you implying?”

“Can’t you read?” Saunders flipped his hand at the folder. “It should be in there.”

“What was Delacorte messed up in?”

He came up from the chair and leaned across the table. “As I told the marshals in St. Louis, child smuggling from all over.”

“Please sit down,” she said in a calm, soft voice. “This can be an easy process or a long and difficult one that sends you to prison in the full population. You know how some criminals feel about crimes involving babies. It doesn’t sit well with them. There is no telling what could happen to you in jail, not to mention if your boss found out you had been talking to us to cut a deal.”

Saunders snorted but sank back in his chair.

Colton lounged against the kitchen counter to watch the match. She was good. His respect went up a notch. She glanced toward Colton, giving the witness time to think over what she had said. In the instant their gazes met, a connection linked them, more than this case. It held for a few seconds before she severed it and swung her attention back to Saunders.

Confused, Colton pondered his reaction to their shared look and nearly missed her next question.

“What were the plans for Sophia Duncan? Why was she singled out? And then what about the other children? Do they all end up in St. Louis? You said you had specific information to share with us.” She shut the file, crossed her arms and set them on top of the folder.

Colton forced himself to focus on Saunders. He didn’t need to be distracted by his temporary partner.

Saunders shrugged. “Don’t know about all the kids. I know from my brother Luke he took jobs in Kansas, Illinois and Iowa and those came to St. Louis.”

“But you don’t know about other states or where those babies ended up?”

“No, except Colorado. That’s why we’re here.”

“When your brother was arrested for the murder of Delacorte, did you take over for him in the organization?”

“Take over?” Saunders’s mouth twisted.

“Yes, your hearing is good. Did you take your brother’s place?”

Saunders looked at Colton. “I have full immunity with anything involving this case?”

“Only if you fulfill the agreement you made with the government prosecutor.”

The lowlife took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “Yes, Luke and me worked together. My next job was to pick up a package here in Denver and wait for instruction where to take it.”

So this was the reason Saunders wanted to be here in Denver. Was the package he was picking up a baby? Or information about the organization? Colton pushed off the counter and approached the man, hovering over him. “It? What are you picking up?”

Disdain flittered across Saunders’s face. “A baby, of course. Haven’t you been listening?”

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

“From who?”

“I don’t know.”

Colton got down in his face. “What do you know?”

* * *

Lisette relaxed back in her chair, enjoying the exchange between the two men. One thing the FBI agent from Miami had said about Colton Phillips was that he was a good interrogator, usually getting what he wanted from his witness.

Saunders smirked. “What’s this? Bad cop, badder cop?”

Colton pulled back and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression chilling, the blue of his eyes arctic cold. “This isn’t working. I’ll be reporting to my supervisor that you haven’t given us any useful information, which means you’re in violation of your agreement with the government.”

Saunders’s sneer fell. He blinked rapidly and turned his regard to Lisette, as if she would rescue him. Fixing a stare on him, she wanted him to squirm for a little bit. “We aren’t going to keep spending thousands of dollars to keep you safe if you aren’t going to fulfill your part of the bargain. Would you, if you were in our shoes?”

Saunders’s cackles resonated through the cabin. “Never in a thousand years would I be a cop.”

“We know this is about child smuggling. Tell us something we don’t know. Who is your boss in St. Louis?”

“I don’t know his name. All I have is a burner phone I use to get my instructions, which you have now.”

“Then what use are you to us? Marshal Phillips, make your call to your supervisor. This is a dead end.” She narrowed her eyes, boring into the man across from her. Silence fell. Colton towered over the witness but didn’t say a word.

“Okay. Okay. Right before I was apprehended, this was all set up. I’m supposed to meet my contact in a few days at a masquerade ball for charity. If I check out, then he’ll give me the information where to pick up the baby.”

“Where are you supposed to take the baby once you have it?”

“My boss will call me with instructions once the handoff is successful.” He looked back and forth between Colton and Lisette. “You have my burner phone. Maybe that can help you.”

She bent forward. “You know it doesn’t help. Is this all you have? Where’s the information about who might be behind this baby-smuggling ring that you insinuated you had in St. Louis?”

“I—I can’t...”

“You can’t or you won’t?” She raised her voice.

Saunders snapped his mouth closed and pinched his lips together.

Colton kicked the legs of the table nearest Saunders. “That’s it. The deal is off. You’re going back to St. Louis. You’ve been playing us for fools.”

THREE

“You can’t do that!” Saunders shot to his feet, color draining from his face. “You promised to protect me. I’m putting my life on the line because of you.”

“Mr. Saunders, please take a seat.” Lisette forced a calmness into her voice while she worked to keep her emotions—anger, frustration, impatience—from showing in her expression. “Marshal Phillips has been dealing with you longer than I have and is no doubt tired of these games you’re playing. Give me a reason not to go along with him.” The stab of Colton’s razor-sharp look sliced through her, but she ignored him. However, his warning that he was in charge kept blaring in her mind.

Saunders eased back into his chair, drawing in a deep breath. “I can’t tell you who the bosses of the smuggling ring are because I don’t know who they are, but I do know there are several running it. A person only knows who they directly work for. I’ve worked with a middleman for this part of the country a lot lately. I’m supposed to get the baby and deliver it to him. So until I meet my contact at the party and find out where to pick up the baby, I can’t tell you who the middleman is.” He paused, probably for dramatic effect, then continued, “Except he goes by Jackson. I don’t know if that’s a first or last name. We’ve been working together for over a year so I’ll have to be there. In fact, I have to call him the day of the party to make sure everything is still set up.”

Lisette frowned. “So this Jackson is the middleman?”

“He has a lot more knowledge about the operation than I do. I deliver the babies, and he takes over from there. I don’t know what he does with them after that.”

“How are you going to make contact with the courier at the party? I imagine there will be hundreds in attendance.” Colton leaned back against the counter again. “It’s a big charity event for children.” Her partner choked out the last word, a frown descending on his face.

Lisette didn’t blame him. The irony of this whole situation struck her.

“I’m not to wear a mask. He’ll recognize me and approach me. Jackson has given the contact a picture of me.”

“How interesting―you have made yourself indispensable if we want to catch a higher-up in the ring.” Sarcasm dripped from Colton’s voice.

While Lisette felt the same as Colton, her brief look conveying that to the marshal, she had to be the “good” cop in this scenario. “So you’ll be turning over this middleman you report to in exchange for the deal?”

Saunders nodded. “And don’t forget the baby who won’t become part of the smuggling operation. You didn’t really know what was going on until I decided to talk in St. Louis. All that has to be worth something. Even the fact that the organization has several levels. I’m at the bottom of the rung. It’s a start you didn’t have before me.”

Colton pulled back the chair and sat between her and Saunders at the kitchen table. “Tell you what. We’ll go along for the time being. But if you don’t deliver at least the middleman and the baby, then the bargain is off.”

Lisette wasn’t sure Colton had that kind of authority, but by his no-nonsense tone and fierce, determined stare, it would be foolish on Saunders’s part not to snatch up the deal.

“Sure. Sure. You’ll be the hero getting this information. Jackson has dealings with the higher-ups.” Saunders put his hands on the top of the table and began to push up, saying, “Well, if you two don’t need me, I’m taking a nap.”

Colton clasped Saunders’s lower arm. “Don’t play me. You don’t want to rile me.” His look emphasized the threat behind his words.

Saunders peered at Colton as though trying to gauge his intent and then grinned. “I hear you. I’m no fool. I know that I have no other choice.”

Colton released his grasp, and Saunders scurried toward the bedroom like the rat he was.

“You’re positive he can’t fit through the window?” Lisette asked when their witness disappeared from view.

“Yes. But even if he tried, when he opened the window, an alarm would go off. We’d know and go outside and wait for him to become stuck.”

“At least we’ll know where he is at all times.”

He chuckled “Might be a bit chilly, especially at night, and then there are the bears that might be curious.”

“I thought they hibernated in the winter.”

“They have been sighted from time to time.”

“What do you know about Don Saunders?”

“I’d think of him like I would a rattlesnake. Deadly. He’ll make a lot of racket to ward us off, but when push comes to shove, he’ll strike without a second thought to save himself.”

“I have a feeling you don’t trust easily.” Lisette rose, needing to pace—do something. This wasn’t the part of the job she liked—sitting around and waiting.

“No. People usually end up disappointing me. But then I guess that goes with the line of work we’re in. How about you?”

“I have to agree with you. I’ve been burned, which makes me hesitate to trust others.” Especially when the people in question were her mother and a fellow FBI agent she thought she was in love with until the drama concerning her mom made Lisette a pariah within the Bureau.

“You know, I should have taken exception to what you said to Saunders, that you wanted a reason not to go along with me. What part of our conversation in the car did you need me to go over? The part where I’m the lead on this team?”

She moved toward the window that afforded a view out the front of the cabin. The other two windows in the living room flanked the fireplace and looked out the back. “I thought I would be the good cop and get him to think I was on his side.” She swept around to face him, only a few feet from her. When had he moved? Why hadn’t she heard him? As he continued toward her, her throat went dry. “It worked. If he can deliver what he says, it’ll get us closer to who is behind this smuggling ring.”

He paused an arm’s length away. “There is more than one person at the top. That’s the first I heard of that. He didn’t say anything about that to the St. Louis marshals.”

“See what happens when he’s rattled.” Lisette thought of moving back, giving herself some space, except that the window was there. The dryness spread from her throat to her mouth. Energy pulsated from Colton, reaching out and wrapping around Lisette. She sidestepped and put some distance between them.

“That’s why I did what I did. I never do something without a reason.”

“So you aren’t impulsive?”

“Being impulsive can get you killed. You have to be constantly thinking ahead and making plans how to act or react. You always have to have a backup plan or two.”

“Is that what happened on the way to the airport yesterday?”

He nodded. His gleaming eyes fixed on her, and he quirked a grin. “We did make a good team with Saunders.”

The word team resounded through her thoughts. From what she’d read about Colton, he wasn’t exactly a team player. She hoped he didn’t blow this case. She needed to make a good impression with her new boss. Denver was the first time she’d been assigned to a larger office. For six years she’d been relegated to some of the worst assignments in the FBI, even though she’d been one of the top in her class at the FBI Academy. No one had said anything, but she knew it was because her mother had to resign from the Bureau. Lisette would have to work twice as hard as others to prove her worth as an agent.

She pinned him with her regard. “Communication is the key to a good team.” Remember that before you mess up my chance at a better job in the FBI.

* * *

Colton finished his walk-through at the hotel where the charity masquerade ball was being held. The place was as secured as it could be with three hundred guests attending the party. Not a bad choice for a rendezvous to pass along information in an illegal activity. Most guests would be masked and the ballroom filled to capacity. It would be easy for Saunders to get lost in the crowd and slip away unnoticed if he and his team weren’t vigilant.

Marshal Quinn Parker approached, dressed in a joker costume. “Who in the world picked out this for me to wear?” He waved his hand down his length.

“You can blame it on Melissa. Is there a reason she would choose you to wear the joker outfit?” Colton imagined his boss’s secretary having a good laugh over what she picked out for them.

Parker laughed. “Have you looked at yourself lately? The only time I see a man wear tights is at a ballet.”

“You go to the ballet?”

Parker narrowed his eyes. “My wife drags me. Who are you supposed to be?”

Colton donned his velvet hat like the ones worn in the fifteenth century and bowed at the waist. “Romeo, at your service.”

“Where’s your Juliet?”

Colton looked behind Parker at the woman coming toward them. Lisette wore a dress that would be from the same time period as his costume. She moved gracefully in a long crimson gown with an elaborate beaded and jeweled bodice cut with a square neckline. Although what she had on was elegant, what caught Colton’s attention was Lisette’s long flowing golden curls hanging below her shoulders, and her eyes, accented with shades of brown eye shadow, no longer hidden behind glasses. So she did have contacts. Interesting. Why did she feel the need to hide her beauty? There was no doubt she was gorgeous.

“Ah, your Juliet has arrived. I wonder what Benson’s secretary had in mind doing that,” Parker said when he glanced at Lisette.

No doubt she was messing with Colton’s mind. His supervisor’s secretary loved to play practical jokes. He was the target this time. “Since I’ve been forced to wear tights, I need some kind of compensation.” Colton covered the few feet to Lisette and bowed with a flourish. “I like your hair down. You should wear it like that more often.”

Lisette pursed her lips. “We have worked together three days, and you profess to know how I usually wear my hair?”

He winked at her. “Yep. The way I’ve seen you the past few days is the way you go to work all the time.”

“Unless I’m undercover.”

“How often has that happened?”

“This is the first time.”

“In other words, you never wear your hair down.”

“Yes, I do. On my days off.”

He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What do you like to do on your days off?”

“Wear my hair down. Be myself.”

He wondered what that was. “Without your glasses?”

“Sometimes. What does this have to do with tonight’s assignment?”

Two pink patches on her cheeks held his attention until he realized he was staring. He cleared his throat and said, “I wanted to make sure you could see clearly in case something went wrong?”

One of her eyebrows rose. “Are you sure that’s the reason?”

How in the world had he let this conversation become personal? He was the team leader. He had to consider everything, didn’t he? He shifted his gaze toward Parker. “Saunders is ten minutes out. Marshals Simms and Wallace are bringing him to the party.”

“Oh, joy. His appearance is going to ruin a perfectly nice evening.” She sauntered past him and greeted Parker.

For a brief moment Colton pictured himself with Lisette, attending this charity ball as a couple on a date. Not having to work. Not having a witness to protect. Having dinner beforehand. Sharing a dance—

“Marshal Phillips,” Lisette broke into his daydream, “Parker is going to recheck the west corridor and exit. I’m taking the east.”

He shook away the mental image of her clasped in his arms. “I’ll see about the north. Simms and Wallace are bringing him in through the south entrance. Meet me back here in five minutes so we can cover the south as Saunders arrives.”

Colton hurried toward the north hallway, a vision of Lisette teasing the edges of his mind, trying to work its way back into his thoughts and rob him of his concentration on the job. All because she wore her hair down! His fingers itched to run through her thick blond curls. He never got involved with a coworker. It was not a good idea, especially with the job he had. So why now was he attracted to her?

He waved at an extra marshal brought in to be posted at the north door. Brad Worth nodded at him, then returned his focus to the entrance. After Colton checked a few rooms off the hallway to make sure they were still locked, he started back the way he came.

When he’d been in foster care, he’d learned not to become too attached to anything or anyone. His job had only reinforced that—traveling a lot and moving from one U.S. Marshals’ office to another. Yes, those moves had been his choice because he was used to being in places temporarily. What would happen if he stayed put for more than two years in a town?

As Colton neared the south entrance, he tamped down all feelings. This was business tonight. He’d done this enough times to run on autopilot. Agent Lisette Sutton was a professional, and that was all it was. He admired that in any law enforcement officer.

* * *

Through her earpiece Lisette could hear the conversation between Saunders, dressed in a pirate’s costume, and a woman in a Little Bo Peep outfit standing near the long dessert table. Lisette had verified everyone was in position for the exchange that should happen soon between Saunders and his contact, and now she moved across the dance floor to Colton. She grimaced. The annoying man who had driven everyone crazy the past few days was poised close by.

“Would you like to dance?” Saunders asked the lady dressed as Little Bo Peep minus the staff.

“I’d love to,” came the faint answer to his question.

Lisette paused next to Colton, facing the dance area as the slow song started. “I wonder if our guy can waltz.”

“We’re about to find out.”

She followed Saunders and Little Bo Peep as he swept his partner out onto the floor with the other pairs. “Nope. He doesn’t have a clue how to waltz. Probably doesn’t even realize it is one.”

“In his line of work, I doubt he has a need to.”

“I guess in ours we don’t, either.”

“No, but for some it’s a pastime.”

She slid a look toward him for a few seconds before returning it to Saunders. “Ballroom dancing?”

A smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, one of the marshals I worked with went out dancing every weekend he could with his girlfriend. Later they got married and they still do it. He told me it’s his exercise.”

“I never thought about that.”

“Do you dance?”

“Not much.” She didn’t date a lot, not after her boyfriend in the FBI dropped her because of the scandal involving her mother. Building her career was her life, and finally after years she felt it was beginning to pay off. With the assignment to the Denver office, she felt the FBI was satisfied she wouldn’t turn out like her mother had, which meant Lisette would work extra hard to keep that impression true. This case with the U.S. Marshals Service was a big break for her.

“Then how did you know it was a waltz?”

“I love music—all kinds. I also love to watch people dance.”

“But you don’t?”

She could feel his eyes on her. “Not much chance. It takes two.”

“I see Saunders is moving out of our range. Should we?” Colton held out his hand to her.

“You can waltz?”

“I’m a quick study, and I saw my colleague and his wife do it enough. At least I’ll be better than Saunders.”

Lisette placed her hand in his, the contact sending a tingling sensation zipping up her arm. He grasped her at the waist, and she nearly stepped on his foot when she tripped over her own. Warmth suffused her face. “Sorry. I didn’t have a friend to show me.”

Lisette listened to the soft rhythm of the song and fell into sync with Colton. He moved them toward Saunders. All Lisette heard through her earpiece were the music and the background din of the crowd in the ballroom. Saunders was quiet.

Halfway across the dance area from Saunders, Colton swept her around and she faced Saunders.

Saunders swung his partner around and crashed into a waiter.

“Watch where you’re going, dude.” The waiter’s loud words blared through her earpiece.

“Sorry. Got carried away.”

The man who had collided with Saunders strode away from him and his partner. Saunders moved toward the far end of the dance floor in a couple of twirls as though he had all of a sudden learned to waltz.

“I think he just made contact with that waiter who collided with him,” she said close to Colton’s ear as the song came to an end.

He swung her around to look at Saunders. “He’s just disappeared in the swarm leaving the floor.” He dipped his head and spoke into his mike in a soft voice. “Find Saunders, south end of the ballroom. Agent Sutton thinks he made contact and is now lost in the crowd.”

Lisette was headed in the direction where she’d last seen Saunders when suddenly the lights went out. Darkness descended over the ballroom, leaving only the muted light of the red exit signs.

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