The Marshal's Witness (3 page)

Chapter Four

A scream shattered the quiet of Jessica’s bedroom.

Startled awake, she jumped out of bed, slammed into the dresser and fell onto the floor. Cursing the dark, unfamiliar room, she scrambled to her feet.

The noise sounded again—a short, throaty moan that echoed through the room, making Jessica wince.

Sugar.
What
was
that?

Frantically feeling along
the wall for the light switch, she bumped something on top of the dresser. She grabbed it to use as a weapon, and her other hand brushed against the light switch. She flipped on the light and whirled around to face whoever was in the room.

The room was empty.

She glanced around in confusion and shoved her bangs out of her eyes. The noise echoed through the room again. She nearly collapsed
in relief. The noise was coming from her window,
outside
the house.

She chewed her bottom lip and debated calling Ryan to investigate. But what if there was some logical explanation for the noise? Did she really want to endure more of Ryan’s teasing if he came over and found a feral cat or some other animal howling outside?

He’d get a real kick out of that, and Jessica’s pride had already
taken about all she could of his
city girl
insults. More important, she was on her own now, or supposed to be. Ryan was leaving in a few weeks. She needed to learn not to panic or assume DeGaullo had found her every time something unexpected happened.

Her mind was made up, but her feet were still deciding. Blood rushed to her ears. She gathered her courage, and inched toward the window. With
her back against the wall, she raised her weapon and slowly lifted the edge of the curtain.

Two round, black eyes surrounded by feathers and a beak stared back at her through the glass. Good grief, it was just a bird, sitting on her window ledge. It blinked and gave another throaty howl. As if it was satisfied that it had done its job by waking her up, it screeched again, flapped its wings
and flew away.

Jessica let the curtain fall closed. She’d been scared witless by a stupid bird. Was this the kind of life she had to look forward to? Being awakened in the middle of the night by screeching birds?

The bright red numbers on the bedside clock read six-thirty. Okay, so it wasn’t the middle of the night. But since she hadn’t slept well as she tried to convince herself she
was safe without a marshal in the next room, it might as well be the middle of the night. She was exhausted.

She was also keyed up, full of nervous energy, so going back to bed would be just as futile now as it had been last night. She raised her hand to brush her bangs out of her eyes and only then realized she was still clutching what she’d grabbed off the dresser to use as a weapon. She
stared in disbelief at what she was holding.

A blow-dryer.

Sugar.

What was she going to do if she met up with one of DeGaullo’s men? Offer to style his hair?

She pitched the dryer onto the bed and trudged through the short hallway into the bathroom. Her shoulders were knotted with tension from her unpleasant wake-up call. Right now nothing sounded better than a hot, steamy
shower to relax her muscles.

While she waited for the shower to get hot, she went about her morning routine. Normally she’d carefully fold her clothes and put them in the hamper, but she didn’t have the energy for that right now. She discarded her clothes in a sloppy pile on the white tile floor and stepped over the side of the tub.

Icy water pricked her skin like hundreds of sharp needles.
She shouted and hopped out of the tub, right onto the pile of clothes. They shot out from underneath her feet across the slippery tile. Her hands flailed in the air, futilely grabbing for the countertop. She fell hard, smacking her head against the side of the toilet.

She lay there, naked, her head throbbing, while she tried to decide whether to cry, scream, or break something. Above her,
the shower curtain billowed out over the tub. Every one of the red and blue cartoon cats grinned down at her as if they were about to burst into laughter.

A strangled gurgle wheezed between her clenched teeth. She rolled over, wincing when she put pressure on her left hip. She grabbed the countertop and painfully pulled herself to her feet. When she caught sight of her face in the mirror,
she let out a low groan. A dark bruise was already forming on the side of her temple.

Could this day get any worse?

All those months during the trial, she’d longed for the comforts of her apartment, her Jacuzzi tub, the fluffy down comforter she’d bought two Christmases ago during a shopping trip with Natalie. She’d hated the cheap motel rooms the government called safe houses. She’d
longed for the day when she’d be in a place she could call home again.

Now that she was, she realized how good she’d had it all along. At least the cheap motels had hot water. And she certainly didn’t have wild animals perched outside her window, screaming louder than Mrs. Bailey’s grandchildren when they ran up and down the hallway outside her apartment.

She shut the shower off and
stood in front of the mirror, finger-combing her hair over her bruise. The tiny red scars that ran along her hairline made her pause. There were dozens of them all over her body, reminders of the explosion. Self-loathing filled her. How pathetically shallow to worry about downy comforters and jetted tubs when four men had given their lives for her.

They’d made the ultimate sacrifice, simply
because it was their job, because they’d vowed to keep her safe. She was in awe of men like that, men with courage who did what was right, not what was easy. She’d worked for DeGaullo for years, too afraid to do what was right. Even the night Natalie had died, Jessica had been too scared to do anything more than cower beneath her desk. She’d done nothing to save her friend.

Her fingers tightened
around the edge of the countertop. If Natalie’s family, or the families of those dead marshals, could give up their modern conveniences to have their loved ones back, Jessica was certain they’d make that trade without hesitation.

So would she.

Resolved to appreciate what she had and not to complain, even to herself, she ran a sink full of cold water. She shivered through an old-fashioned
washcloth bath. As she was about to leave the bathroom, the shower curtain caught her eye again.

The cats stared back at her, mocking her. Unable to resist a childish impulse, Jessica grabbed the curtain and gave it a tremendous yank. The shower rod popped off the tile and landed on the floor with a satisfying metallic clang. Jessica stomped on the curtain, ridiculously pleased to hear the
plastic crinkle beneath her feet.

Feeling buoyed by her tiny victory, she dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain, blue T-shirt. The sun was up now, turning the brown curtains in her bedroom a light muddy color. Not yet ready to face the roosters marching across her kitchen walls, she decided instead to check out the view behind her house. She hurried through the living room to the breakfast
nook.

No telling what was hiding behind the curtains covering the sliding glass door. Knowing Ryan, there was something awful in her backyard.

Like the city dump.

She straightened her shoulders, reached up, and slid the curtains back. Her mouth fell open at the dazzling view. The Smoky Mountains spread out before her for miles, dressed in the golds and reds of early autumn. Jessica
couldn’t begin to imagine how spectacular the colors might become in a few weeks when fall was in full swing. For the first time since Ryan had announced he was relocating her here, she was excited. Yes, she was a city girl, but she could still appreciate the incredible beauty in front of her.

Yesterday, hemmed in between two marshals, she hadn’t had much of a chance to notice her surroundings.
Today, she would take everything in and face her new life with enthusiasm. It was almost like she was eighteen again. Alone, without any family, she’d still been hopeful as she left her latest foster home to find her place in the world. This time, she wasn’t that naive young woman desperate to fit in and be accepted. Her blinders were off. She would never again give her trust so easily, only
to find the people she’d thought were her friends were really her enemies.

* * *

J
ESSICA
STOOD
AT
the ridge-line where her backyard ended and the mountain dropped away. It wasn’t nearly as steep as it had looked from her back deck. A well-worn path angled down the mountainside until it reached Ryan’s house, then it angled down and disappeared into the trees below.

Those trees were
so thick they blocked out the sunlight, forming a dark haven for anyone who might want to hide. Jessica rubbed her chilled arms and chided herself for worrying. She hadn’t broken any of the program’s precious rules. No one knew where she was. She was perfectly safe.

The sound of shoes crunching on the gravel road out front had her turning around. A large man with short, dark hair was jogging
past her house. He reminded her of Ryan, but where Ryan was all muscle and brawn, this man was carrying a few extra pounds, as if he was a little too fond of his Friday-night beers.

“Morning,” he called out, his voice friendly as he waved.

“Morning,” Jessica automatically called back, but she was already heading toward her house to go inside. She needed to learn to face the world again,
without her bodyguards, but today wasn’t that day. She wasn’t ready.

When the stranger saw her heading back to her house, he must have thought she was heading toward the street to meet him. He swerved into her side yard and jogged toward her.

Indecision froze Jessica in place. The safety of her house was too far away, and the stranger was almost right on top of her. She rushed backward
several steps. The stranger ran forward, making a grab for her.

“No.” She twisted away and kept backing up.

The man lunged for her and grabbed her arm. “Whoa, there, miss,” he said. “If you back up any more you’re going to fall right off the mountain.” His brow wrinkled with concern.

“What?” Jessica glanced back. Her stomach dropped as she realized just how close she was to the
edge. She scrambled forward and to the side, forcing the stranger to drop his hold on her arm.

“Thank you.” She gritted her teeth with embarrassment. This man probably thought she was an idiot.

He raised his hands as if to reassure her and stepped back, putting several feet of space between them. “I shouldn’t have run over here like that. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No, no, you
didn’t do anything wrong. I’m still half-asleep. Haven’t had my morning coffee yet,” she joked. She glanced back toward the drop-off and shivered, wrapping her arms around her waist. A fall like that could have broken some bones, or worse. That would have been pathetic—living through a year-long trial, surviving a bombing, then falling to her death in her backyard.

A sound from next door
had them both turning to see Ryan stepping outside onto his deck. He didn’t seem to notice them as he leaned against the railing with a coffee cup in his hand. He stared out over the mountains, enjoying the same view Jessica had been enjoying a few minutes earlier.

“Morning, Ryan.” Jessica gave an enthusiastic wave to get his attention.

He straightened, as if surprised, and returned
her wave. He set his cup down on the railing and hurried across the yard toward her. His face bore an expression of polite interest when he stood next to her and looked at the stranger. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Jessica?”

“Oh, of course. Um, actually, we haven’t met yet.”

The man smiled at Ryan and held out his hand. “Hope I’m not intruding. I was jogging out front and saw this
beautiful young lady. Just had to say hello. Mike Higgins. I’m renting a cabin down the road, about halfway up the mountain. Don’t have nearly the view you two have up this high.”

“Good to meet you, Mike. Ryan Jackson.”

The men shook hands and Ryan gave Jessica a pointed look, clearly expecting her to introduce herself.

“Oh, I’m Jessica...ah...Benedict.” She shook Mike’s hand, hoping
he hadn’t noticed her hesitation. She’d almost said Delaney. She chewed her bottom lip and glanced up at Ryan.

He stepped closer as if to lend her his support. “You said you’re staying down the road?”

“I come up here every fall, been here almost two weeks.” He glanced back and forth between Jessica and Ryan. “Are you two permanent residents, or tourists like me?”

Jessica’s mind
went blank, all her memorized lies flying away as easily as that bird had flown away this morning. Ryan smoothed over her silence and picked up the conversation. With a straight face, he told Mike he was a seasonal tour guide for hikers following the Appalachian trail through the Smokies. He rattled off names of landmarks like Cade’s Cove and something called Clingman’s Dome.

Then he turned
the conversation back on Mike. Apparently Mike owned a small insurance company in Little Rock, and he was anxious to get some fishing action here in the mountains. Ryan made suggestions on where Mike could catch the biggest fish this time of year.

Jessica didn’t know if anything Ryan said about the area was true, but he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. If she hadn’t known who
he was, she would absolutely believe he’d grown up around here and that he was a professional trail guide.

As he spoke he lifted his arm and put it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Only then did she realize how badly she was shaking. With Ryan’s warm strength supporting her, she began to relax.

It felt good being held by him—too good. It made her wish they could have
met under different circumstances, before her life had gone so horribly wrong. Would he have liked her if they had? Would he have gifted her with that sexy smile that gave him a boyish, youthful look? Unfortunately, she’d never know.

“Thanks for the tips.” Mike shook Ryan’s hand again. “I’m going fishing real soon. Hopefully I’ll catch something big.” He gave Jessica a broad wink.