Yuletide Suspect. Lisa Phillips

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СКАЧАТЬ both found some semblance of peace. Liberty could hardly believe that their lives now were what God had wanted for them, but what else were they supposed to have done? This was what God had given them, and it simply didn’t work for them to share their lives.

      Liberty wanted to ask Tate if he’d moved on, if he’d found someone to care about, but she couldn’t voice the words out in the cold, dark night, silent except for the rumble of the snowmobile’s engine. She hoped he’d found someone else.

      Because she never could.

      Tate revved the engine. Liberty saw something out of the corner of her eye and glanced over. Her whole body solidified as she spotted a man dressed in dark clothes, a weapon pointed at them.

      “Gun!”

      Tate shot forward even faster as the man opened fire. They both ducked and the shots rang out, each one as loud as a firework.

      Blast after blast flashed in the dark, illuminating his position. His aim chased the snowmobile’s path as Tate flew across the terrain. Liberty pulled her own gun out and fired back two shots, but the ride was too bumpy. She would never be able to hit him. Still, she gripped Tate tighter with her other arm and both knees and tried not to fall off.

      Unless...

      The shots continued. Liberty shifted back and launched herself off the snowmobile. She landed on her back in a berm of snow and heard Tate yell. He gunned the snowmobile, then turned it in a wide arc, coming back for her.

      Liberty ran for the nearest tree so that at least there’d be some cover from the shots. While Tate raced back to her, she returned fire at the man who now sent bullets at both her and Tate in turn. Then he swung his arm back and fired at her.

      Liberty ducked and the bullet took out a chunk of bark. She raced for the next tree, moving closer to the man.

      The roar of the snowmobile engine raced up behind her. She glanced over, but Tate wasn’t coming for her. He drove the snowmobile past her, toward the man trying to kill them. What was he doing? His weapon was in the backpack on her back.

      Liberty shifted for a better position and fired to give him the cover he needed. Over and over. One shot managed to clip the gunman in the shoulder, and then Tate was in her line of fire and right on top of the man. He launched himself from the snowmobile and tackled the guy to the snow.

      The vehicle they’d been riding continued on, but the engine lost power fast and careened into a tree.

      Liberty raced over while they fought. The gun went off. She ducked and went to one knee. Tate had the man on the ground. He shifted, put his knee on the guy’s elbow and grabbed the weapon.

      Liberty relaxed one tiny notch.

      Gun at the ready, she made her way to them. “You good?”

      Tate didn’t look at her. The man on the ground was bleeding, but Tate hauled him to his feet. Liberty pulled out her phone.

      “Won’t get any signal out here.”

      “So what do we do with him then?”

      Tate shifted the man’s collar. “Same tattoo. Russian as well, I’m guessing. Maybe the first guy from my house. He’s wearing the right clothes.”

      The words weren’t directed at her, but the man didn’t answer. Didn’t say anything. His face was deadpan, with no expression. No movement whatsoever.

      “Guess we’re walking back to town,” Tate said. “We can turn him over to the sheriff, and Dane can get some answers.”

      That got a reaction.

      Liberty saw the slightest movement. “Tate—”

      But the man was already in motion. He launched himself at Tate.

      Liberty hardly had time to react, but she was a Secret Service agent.

      A shot went off.

      Liberty fired as well, her aim true, and the bullet hit the gunman square in the chest. Tate fell back and the man landed on top of him. He rolled the man so their attacker lay in the snow. Two choppy breaths later, he was dead.

      “Lib.”

      She stepped back, even though he hadn’t moved.

      Tate got to his feet. He stepped toward her, and she held out a hand, palm up. “We’re okay, Lib.”

      She shook her head. “The snowmobile is trashed and we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

      “We don’t have to walk back to town now. The mine isn’t far from here. Come on,” he coaxed. “It isn’t far, Lib.”

      “Don’t call me that.” She lifted her gaze and looked him square in the face. “Don’t ever call me that.”

      They weren’t a team. They would never be a team again, as good as it felt working together. Protecting each other. Taking down their assailant. Liberty had to let go of all her memories with him. Again. As much as it hurt, she had to walk away from Tate and let him live his life. Because one of them should have a future.

      And it wasn’t going to be her.

       FOUR

      Tate wanted to hold her hand. He also wanted to yell at her and get her to tell him why she’d jumped off the snowmobile. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he realized what she’d done. Yes, she was a Secret Service agent. He’d been one as well, and that stuff didn’t just disappear. He was wired to protect, and that meant Liberty along with everyone else. Feelings didn’t matter. Even after she’d torn his life apart. Maybe especially. They didn’t get to pick and choose who they protected.

      Thank You for keeping us safe. God had protected them. That man had tried to kill them, and in the end had chosen to end his life by forcing her hand. He’d known what it meant to attack Tate one last time. It couldn’t have ended another way.

      Now there was a dead man in the woods. Liberty had taken a million pictures of the body while he checked for ID and found nothing, then noted as many details as he could in a text to the sheriff that would send just as soon as he got a signal. Liberty had said she would email the photos to Dane later after she downloaded them to her laptop.

      Aside from that, there wasn’t much they could do about a dead body in the woods. Tate needed to find the plane so he could prove to the Secret Service—and anyone else—that he hadn’t been involved in its disappearance.

      Then there were the two men at his house. One had tried to kill him, and the other had planted evidence by leaving the plane’s black box by his front door. The first had come back and tried again. It couldn’t be a coincidence; there was no such thing in their line of work, he had learned. So it wasn’t just the Secret Service pointing a finger at him. Someone else wanted to make sure he was implicated in this. But who? And what did they have to gain, getting him arrested and thrown in prison?

      Liberty was silent beside him, and Tate didn’t try to draw her out of it. He had no idea what was going СКАЧАТЬ