Justice Reborn (Cowboy Justice Association Book 8) (25 page)

M
arisa hated mornings. She loved staying up at night, reading or binge-watching television with a reckless disregard for the next working day. She’d done it again last night, reading the latest bestseller until three when the alarm would go off at six. She’d hit the snooze several times but it hadn’t made much of a difference. Hopefully, the giant mug of coffee she was currently sipping on along with the sugar-filled cinnamon bun would perk her right up.

It was early enough that the office wasn’t buzzing yet. There would be the standard meeting at nine to update her team lead on the case she was currently working, but other than that she was in a lull, waiting for a break in another case. She hated these downtimes and preferred to be busy and on the go.

Opening her email, she quickly perused the usual digital flyers that were sent to every marshal regarding current fugitives on the run and those that were caught. Same old, same old. She recognized a few of the faces as men who had been on the run before. Once a runner, always a runner. They never learned.

She was just about to move to the next email when the last flyer caught her eye. Gasping, she studied the photo – obviously a driver’s license picture – and the details provided.

Murder. Gunshot wound. Last seen in the Washington D.C. area. Josephine Elizabeth Carlton was on the run and wanted for questioning as a person of interest. Whereabouts unknown.

Well, well, well…this was very interesting.

Did Evan know that his pretty girl was wanted as a person of interest on a murder charge? Of course he did. That had to be why he’d hustled her into the house when Marisa had shown up unexpectedly. That’s why he’d pushed for them to leave the house and go to the diner.

Miss Josephine Carlton must be mighty good in bed to make Evan break the law.

Was the jerk in love? He’d looked happy and content. Satisfied. Much happier than he had the last time she’d seen him.

Evan Davis – former US Marshal and sheriff – was harboring a fugitive, and with a lot of help from the looks of the guys that were there. Seth Reilly knew how to keep a girl safe from everyone, including the government.

This was business. And the law. The fact was she’d begged him to come back and he’d refused. If she hadn’t bugged him she doubted she would have even heard from him these last months. He’d moved on and left her behind.

It wasn’t supposed to happen that way.

He should have missed her.

It only took her a moment to make up her mind. She reached for the telephone and punched in an extension.

Sorry, Evan. Maybe someday you’ll forgive me.

*   *   *   *

Evan was on edge all day as they waited for the reporter. A phone call from Ava had let them know that the woman would show up mid-afternoon, probably around four, depending on traffic from Orlando International. The waiting sucked and he wanted to be done with it. Once that recording was public, Lydell wouldn’t need to go after Josie. Then the only problem would be Amy’s murder.

He inwardly groaned at the use of the word
only
. Getting her cleared of a murder charge wasn’t going to be easy but he was determined to find her the best lawyer if the police pressed their case. He was hoping against hope once they saw the tape that they’d rethink their investigation and go after the senator.

He and Josie were spending the afternoon in the living room, going through the file on Lydell that Jared had emailed over. Every page revealed a man that definitely needed…help. Perhaps therapy. He treated the people around him like dirt, as if he were Louis the Sun King. His former employees were unanimous in saying the guy was a real prick.

Evan shook his head in disgust. He’d never understand some people. It was just as easy to be nice as it was to be an asshole. Hell, it might even be easier. It took effort to be a jerk.

Seth had been lounging on the floor, his back against the sofa, playing a game on the tablet computer when he sprung to his feet. “Three cars coming down the driveway very slowly. I don’t think our reporter was planning to bring friends.”

Evan didn’t like the sound of this one bit. No, she wasn’t supposed to bring friends. She was renting a car at the airport and from what Ava had said traveling alone, although Dare had agreed to accompany the journalist back to Chicago once she had the recording. Just in case. Although it wouldn’t matter anyway. She’d said that the minute she got the file she’d transfer it to the news station where she worked. She wasn’t taking any chances.

Evan kissed Josie’s brow and helped her to her feet. “Honey, go upstairs. Stay in the bedroom.”

Her face had gone white and he pulled her in for a reassuring hug, hopefully reminding her of last night and how he’d vowed not to let anything happen to her. He’d meant every word. If someone wanted to hurt her, they’d have to go through him.

Once she was upstairs and out of sight, Evan and the men checked their weapons, tucking them in their waistbands and huddling by the door and windows, out of sight. They watched on the tablet as the three dark vehicles, two sedans and one SUV, came to a halt at the front door. His muscles tensed and his heart skipped in his chest when the doors of the front car opened. He waited impatiently, his fingers flexed on the cool metal of his revolver as one leg and then another stepped out of the car.

Son of a fucking bitch.

“It’s Marisa,” he whispered right before she climbed out, standing on his driveway and staring up at the house. She was dressed in her usual work garb of black slacks, white blouse, and black blazer. Her gun was strapped to her waist along with her shield in plain sight. She was clearly here on official business.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“She’s back,” Seth said unnecessarily. “Looks like she’s brought company with her. Official company.”

Several agents had exited the vehicles, all looking as if they were on duty, including a few faces he recognized. They weren’t here to see how he was doing in retirement, that was for damn sure.

Marisa turned and said something to the other marshals and then climbed the porch steps to his front door.

“What’s the plan?” Dare asked, keeping his voice low. “We’ll follow your lead.”

His mind racing a mile a minute and the blood rushing his ears, Evan tried to clear his head so he could think straight. He didn’t want a shootout. Technically he was a law and order kind of guy and the idea of a showdown with his former co-workers didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t want anyone to get hurt and he didn’t particularly want to go to jail, although he would if it meant keeping Josie protected. But he had a responsibility to his friends who had come here out of loyalty to him.

But he couldn’t just throw up his hands and give in either. It was Josie’s life at stake and he’d promised to do his best to keep her safe.

Marisa knocked and waited on the other side of the door. He could pretend no one was there but they probably had a warrant and could come busting in anyway.

“Let her in,” he finally said with a sigh. “Let me talk to her. Maybe she’ll listen.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

P
erched at the top of the stairs and hopefully hidden out of sight, Josie listened to the conversation between Evan and Marisa with increasing hopelessness. The police were here to bring her in and they didn’t look in the mood to forget about it, turn around, and go home.

Josie had obeyed Evan in the beginning and gone into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. But curiosity had captured her attention and she’d peeked out of the window, seeing the line of vehicles and the armed and uniformed officers. They weren’t here to sell tickets to the policemen’s ball.

Scooting behind the corner wall, Josie didn’t have to strain to hear the voices below. Both Marisa and Evan seemed to be unhappy with one another and of course, Josie was the cause of the rift between the friends and former partners.

“How did you know?” Evan asked.

Josie couldn’t see their faces but she could hear the tension in their tone. At this point, anything could happen.

“Her fugitive flyer came in my email this morning. Why are you harboring her, Evan? Did you know she was on the run for murder? From the looks of things, I think you did.”

“She didn’t do it, okay? Amy was her friend. She found her dying in that parking lot. She would never hurt anyone.”

Wrapping her arms around her legs, Josie drew them up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees as if protecting her own heart. Listening to Evan defend her was emotionally wrenching. She’d put him in this position and hated herself for it.

“There’s a witness, Evan. A neighbor saw her with blood on her hands. That girl you’re protecting? She’s a stone cold killer. You’re letting your dick overrule your common sense.”

A stone cold killer? That’s how I’m viewed?

“Are you saying that I’m whipped?” Evan growled, clearly offended by Marisa’s statement. “Because I’m not letting my cock do any thinking for me. Josie couldn’t kill anyone. She’s as pacifist as they come. What that neighbor saw was Josie discovering the dying body of her best friend. She held her so there was blood. Tell me you wouldn’t hold your dying friend as they gasped out their last words?”

“And what were her last words?
Why did you kill me
?” Marisa mocked. “There’s a witness. Stop being so stubborn and listen to yourself.”

Josie heard Evan snort and his footsteps pacing back and forth on the hardwood floors. “Eyewitness testimony is notoriously undependable. You and I both know that. Besides, Josie doesn’t deny being there. She doesn’t deny touching her friend. She does deny pulling the trigger.”

“Then who killed Amy Dalton? Are you trying to say this was a random thing? A fluke? Because I’m not buying it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. Listen, Josie is in danger and I’m protecting her. If you take her out of here, you can’t guarantee her safety. Her death will be on your head.”

There was a long silence before Marisa replied and Josie held her breath as blood pounded in her ears, sounding like a marching band in her head.

“You’re being rather dramatic. Why would Josie be in danger? Is she mixed up in something?”

“I’d like to hear about that also.”

Josie started at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and uncurled from the fetal position she was in to peer around the corner. A middle-aged woman with dark hair stood in the doorway, a huge messenger bag thrown over her shoulder. Wearing a navy blue suit and sensible shoes, she looked slightly rumpled as if she’d finished a long journey.

The reporter.

The woman held out her hand to Evan, glancing at Marisa standing nearby. “I’m Casey. Casey Melrose. I believe Ava let you know I was coming.”

Evan’s shoulders, which had been stiff and unyielding, seemed to relax slightly as he shook the woman’s hand.

“She did and we’re very glad to have you here. I was just about to explain the situation to Marisa. She’s a US Marshal and is here to take Josie. I’m trying to explain why that would be a mistake. Josie is in grave danger.”

Marisa was frowning and she stomped over to the door, looking outside. “How did you get in here? My men should have stopped you at your vehicle.”