Delores Fossen

The Marshal's Justice


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wished there was some way in hell he could make himself immune to her.

      Rather than stand there with her in his arms, Chase led her across the room and had her sit in one of the chairs at the dining table.

      She shook her head. “Quentin doesn’t even know how to get in touch with me if he needs help.”

      “No, but he knows how to contact me. If it’s a real emergency, he’d call me.”

      April looked up at him, blinked. “You don’t think the blood they found is real?”

      Chase was 1,000 percent sure she wasn’t going to like this. “I think it’s real all right, but Quentin could have planted it so it would look as if he’d been injured. And he could have done that so we wouldn’t believe he had any part in kidnapping Bailey.”

      There were holes in that particular theory, but Chase knew that Quentin was very good at doing criminal things.

      “You think Quentin could have had Bailey kidnapped for ransom money,” April said. She didn’t exactly jump to deny that though it was no doubt what she wanted to do.

      “It’s possible. You have to admit your brother has been involved in some illegal moneymaking schemes before.”

      She didn’t deny that, either. Couldn’t. Because it’d been Quentin’s dirty dealings with Crossman that had set this entire mess in motion.

      “I don’t think Quentin would work with Crossman,” April said. “Not again. Not after what happened the last time.”

      And what’d happened the last time was murder. Specifically, the murder of a cop, Tina Murdock. Tina had gone to question Quentin, had found Crossman instead, and some kind of argument had ensued. Crossman had shot and killed her.

      “You trust your brother a lot more than I do,” Chase reminded her.

      “I know. And I also know you don’t trust me. That’s all right. I deserve it.”

      She did. But there was no need for him to spell that out to her. April had known about her brother’s illegal activity. If she had reported it sooner instead of trying to get Quentin out of hot water, Tina wouldn’t have walked into the bar where she’d been murdered.

      Of course, April hadn’t mentioned anything about knowing of Tina’s visit or her brother’s criminal activity when she’d gone to Chase that night. Even though Chase hadn’t known it at the time, she’d been looking for a shoulder to cry on because she was about to turn in her brother. And during the consoling, they’d landed in bed. Only afterward did Chase learn the truth, and he was still dealing with it.

      “I need some good news,” she said, groaning. “Any good news.”

      “The safe house will be ready soon. I didn’t go through the marshals for it, just in case. Dexter Conway and one of the other deputies are setting up a place in the local area. They’re stocking it now and making sure there’s plenty of security. After we’re settled there, I can work on getting you a new identity.”

      Just thinking about that put a knot in his gut. A knot that’d been there since he’d known April was pregnant with his child.

      Basically, as long as Crossman was a threat, April and Bailey would have to live in hiding. And if he wanted to be part of his baby’s life—which he absolutely did—Chase would have to go in hiding with them. It’d mean giving up everything he knew. His family. His job. His life.

      But that’s exactly what was going to happen.

      Of course, Chase had thought he’d have a few more days to come to terms with it. However, the little girl sleeping on the cot was the ultimate reminder that his time as a marshal was nearly up.

      And that crushed him.

      Since April looked very tuned in to his thoughts and appeared to be on the verge of another apology, Chase nipped it in the bud and continued giving her the update on their situation.

      “Teddy hasn’t found any cameras or anything else suspicious at my place, but he’ll keep looking,” Chase explained. “And the marshals haven’t discovered anyone in the office who could be a mole.”

      April kept staring at him. “You don’t sound as if you think they’ll actually find anything.”

      Chase shrugged. “Deanne could have been wrong.”

      “Maybe.” April took a deep breath and repeated her noncommittal response. “But she believed she was right. Believed it enough to risk her life to help me find Bailey.”

      That put some tears back in her eyes, and this time April didn’t succeed in blinking them away. “God, Chase, I got Deanne killed. That’s more blood on my hands.”

      The tears came faster. Sobs, too. And he would have had to be a heartless jerk to just stand there and watch her fall apart. Chase sank down in the chair next to her and pulled her into his arms.

      “You might have saved Tina, but Deanne’s a different matter,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a full dose of comfort he was offering, but he hated the tears. Hated even more that there was reason for the crying. “It was Deanne’s choice to try to help you. She was by the creek because she chose to be there.”

      And Chase was thankful for it. He hadn’t wanted Deanne to die, but at least the woman had given up her life while trying to save Bailey.

      “Please tell me the man who was working with Deanne’s killer is talking,” April said through the tears.

      “Not talking exactly, but Jericho did learn some info about him when he took his prints. His name is Gene Rooks, and he’s a career criminal. He lawyered up or rather a lawyer showed up here shortly after Jericho arrested Rooks.”

      She stayed quiet a moment, probably giving that some thought. “Someone must have been watching. That’s how Crossman knew Rooks was in custody.” Another pause. “If it’s Crossman. Renée isn’t off my suspect list just yet.”

      Nor his. It was obvious that Renée was desperate to find Quentin. Why exactly, Chase didn’t know, but desperate people did stupid things.

      “Is Renée Edmunds even her real name?” April asked.

      Chase nodded. “I pulled up her DMV photo and it’s a match. Unlike Rooks, Renée doesn’t have a record. No family for us to contact, either. I’ve put out feelers to see if she has a genuine connection to your brother. She could be just a nutcase or a groupie.”

      There’d been plenty of publicity following Tina’s murder and Crossman’s arrest, and Quentin’s photo had been plastered in the newspapers. Quentin was a rich, good-looking guy. A bad-boy criminal. He was the type who could have attracted a nut job. Including one who could have faked a pregnancy. Of course, it was just as possible that Renée had indeed had a relationship with Quentin, and that was something Chase would ask her.

      If they found her, that is.

      It was going to be hard to track her down. No job. Renée lived off a trust fund, and her neighbors said they hadn’t seen her in weeks.

      Chase’s phone rang, and even though he’d lowered the sound, it still caused Bailey to stir. April sprang out of the chair to go to her while Chase glanced at the screen. It was Teddy McQueen, the ranch hand.

      “I found something,” Teddy said the moment Chase answered. “Two cameras. One on your front porch. The other on the back.”

      Chase choked back a groan because he didn’t want to wake the baby, but that was not the news he wanted to hear. “You’re sure?” he asked, stepping out into the hall.

      However, he’d already gotten April’s attention. Despite her having picked up the baby, she had her gaze fixed on Chase.

      “Yeah, I’m sure,” Teddy answered. “I didn’t see them at first because someone had hidden them in the eaves. And that’s not all I found. There are little black box–looking