eat something. She had to keep her strength up if she was going to help Jamie.
“Fine,” she replied. “But we’re not spending the night. As soon as we finish eating, we’ll head down the other side of the mountain. I’m sure that old gas station is still there.”
She saw a muscle flex in Colton’s jaw, but he didn’t say anything. As he fixed the sandwiches in silence, Maddie got the pump working and made short work of wiping down the kitchen surfaces. They sat at the small table and ate by the glow of the kerosene lantern. She thought she’d never tasted anything as delicious as the thick ham sandwiches he’d prepared for them. She finished eating and sank gratefully back in her chair, satisfied. The toy gun dug painfully into her stomach where it was still tucked into her waistband. She was tempted to place it on the table, but was reluctant to destroy the uneasy camaraderie she and her hostage shared. Besides, she couldn’t risk Colton taking it from her.
He sat back in his chair and drained the remnants of a water bottle he’d retrieved from an enormous cooler. Maddie couldn’t help it; she stared, fascinated by the muscles working in the strong column of his throat. He set the empty bottle on the table, laced his hands across his flat belly and arched an eyebrow at her.
Maddie flushed and looked away, more uncertain than she’d been since this whole nightmare started. She cleared her throat. “We should go before it gets too dark. There’s a tank of gasoline in the shed. Maybe enough to get us down the mountain.”
She risked a glance at him. He was watching her carefully, his expression a mixture of compassion and resignation. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table.
“Look,” he began, “we’ve both had a long day. It’s late and it’s dark, and we don’t know if this gas station you’re talking about even exists anymore.” He studied his hands for a moment, before turning his dark gaze back to her. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but it’s obvious you need some help.” He held up a palm to forestall her when she would have spoken. “I think the best thing you can do now is get a good night’s sleep. In the morning, I’ll drive you into Winnemucca and you can turn yourself in to the local authorities.”
Maddie was helpless to prevent the soft gasp of dismay that escaped her. “What?”
He held his hands up in a supplicating gesture. “Listen to me, Madeleine. You have no food, no car, and I’m guessing not much money. What you’ve done by taking me with you is considered a felony. You could find yourself behind bars for a long time. Whatever the problem is, you’re only going to make it worse by running.”
He was doing it again; speaking in a way that was almost hypnotic. His tone was soothing and rational without being patronizing. Maddie had an overwhelming urge to fling herself against his broad chest and tell him she’d do anything he wanted.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. “I can’t go to the police.” She hated the way her voice quavered, despite her resolve to remain in control. “You don’t understand.” She gave a laugh of disbelief. “There’s absolutely no way I can involve the authorities.”
Colton sighed. “I’m sorry, Madeleine, but you already have.”
Before she knew what he was doing, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and drew forth a slim wallet. He flipped it open and held it out for her to see.
Appalled, Maddie stared at the badge inside. It was a silver star inside a silver circle, with the words United States Deputy Marshal emblazoned in blue around it. On the opposite side of the wallet was an identification card with Colton’s picture beneath a federal seal of office.
She felt the blood drain from her face as she raised her eyes to look at him. “You’re a U.S. Marshal?” Her voice was scarcely more than a husky whisper.
“The game’s up, Madeleine.”
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