The Marshal's Runaway Witness. Diane Burke

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      Dylan gently lowered her onto the bed. He pulled the blanket over her. The clipped tone in his voice vibrated with controlled anger but it was the gentleness of his hands as he tucked her blankets in and adjusted her pillow that offered her safety, comfort and hope.

      “What can you tell me about what happened last night?”

      Angelina lowered her head and remained silent.

      “Don’t you remember?”

      “Maria and I were taking a walk when...when...”

      When she couldn’t find any more words, Dylan filled in the blanks.

      “The police report states the two of you were walking last night down by the pier. Shots rang out. You ran for safety. You made it. Your friend didn’t.”

      The brutal honesty of his words stung her.

      She squirmed beneath his scrutiny but remained silent.

      “Do you remember now?”

      How much should she tell him? What should she say? If he was working for her father, was he trying to find out if she could identify her shooter? Or was he simply a US marshal trying to do his job? Either way, she knew she needed to choose her words carefully.

      “I’m sorry. I can’t help you...” Her voice trailed off.

      “Did you see the person who shot you?” Dylan waited for her answer.

      She grimaced and touched the bandage on her forehead again. “I was shot?”

      “Are you in pain?” A softer tone laced his words. “Do you want me to summon a nurse?”

      “No.”

      The hallway door opened. The figure of a large man, his silhouette outlined by the outside hall light, appeared in the doorway, his face in shadows.

      A wave of panic stole Angelina’s breath. Dylan wasn’t the only one who had found her.

       The killer found me. I’m no longer safe.

      “Run!” She threw her body over the railing on the opposite side of the bed and promptly splatted like a pancake on the floor. Even her teeth vibrated with pain.

      Dylan hurried around the bed. “Are you crazy? What are you trying to do?” He ran his hands lightly over her limbs, checking for broken bones. “That concussion must have scrambled your brains. Don’t move. Are you hurt?”

      She had pulled the IV out of her hand during the fall. Almost in a daze she held it up in front of her face and stared at the blood trickling down her skin.

      “Now look at what you’ve done.” Dylan pressed a clean, white handkerchief to the back of her hand to stanch the bleeding. “What were you thinking by pulling a stunt like that?”

      The man in the doorway threw on the overhead light and hurried forward. “Is she okay? Should I get a nurse?”

      “She’s fine.” Dylan scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing more than a feather and deposited her back in the bed.

      Angelina guarded her eyes against the bright fluorescent light that had replaced the soft glow of the night-light above her bed. Shadows no longer hid this second man’s face. US marshal Robert “Bear” Simmons, Dylan’s partner and the other half of the team she’d duped, had entered the room.

      “Good to see you again, Ms. Baroni.” Dylan’s partner grinned widely showing a mouthful of even white teeth against coffee-brown skin. “Imagine my surprise to find that you’ve been hiding right under our noses.”

      Her eyes shot to Dylan.

      For what? Reassurance? Safety? Help?

      Dylan flashed that devastatingly handsome smile she had once found so hard to resist, that same smile that could draw her to him again if she wasn’t careful, but it lacked the warmth it used to hold.

      She glanced away. She couldn’t afford to be careless again. Her life depended on it.

      “I’ll ask you again...” She could feel Dylan’s eyes boring into her as he spoke. “Can you identify your shooter?”

      “No. I didn’t see a thing. I was too busy running for my life.”

      “Do you have any idea who might want you dead?” He chuckled but there was no humor in his tone. “Let me rephrase that. Do you have any idea which one of the many people your father has hired to kill you may have actually tried to do it?”

      She shook her head and the sudden movement flashed pain through her head and made her nauseous.

      “My father didn’t put a contract out on me.”

      Dylan stared at her, disbelief written all over his face.

      “He wouldn’t,” she insisted. “If I’d remained with you and testified against him, then he would have felt he had no choice. I understand that. But when I left witness protection and disappeared, he knew I was no longer a threat.”

      “After everything that has happened, do you really believe that?”

      “Yes, I do. But don’t you see, you’ve changed all that. If he finds out that I’m in your custody again, he’ll believe I’ve accepted witness protection. Now I will be a danger to him. Now he probably will put out a contract on me. You have to let me go. You have to let me get out of here.”

      “That’s not happening.” They locked gazes. “Whether you testify voluntarily or whether the district attorney will have to call you as a hostile witness, we are still getting you to that trial and putting you on the stand.”

      Angelina slid farther down her bed. She wished she could pull the blanket over her head and just make the world disappear. She’d been so careful. But in seconds her world had crashed around her and she didn’t have a clue how to make things right.

      “I... I’ve already told you that I didn’t see anyone. I was walking with my friend Maria on the beach and then...”

      Silence loomed between them.

      “Please...” she whispered. “I need to rest. Please leave. I really can’t help you.”

      “Leave?” Dylan’s mirthless laugh echoed loudly in the room. “Not a chance. I made the mistake of leaving you alone once before. Remember?” He moved closer so that only she could hear his words. “You lied to me.” His eyes darkened. “You walked into the bathroom, climbed out the window and took off. Made a fool out of me. Damaged my credibility with my boss.” He squared his shoulders and took a step back.

      His voice hardened. “Did you really think I would forget? I haven’t forgotten anything.”

      Heat burned her cheeks with shame and regret over their last night together, over the way she’d lead him on to think they were going to have their first romantic evening but had deceived him instead and ran away.

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