Marshal On A Mission. Ryshia Kennie

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and he could be pulled from the case. He hoped that never happened.

      “You can’t put much past me, Nielsen.”

      Trent met his dark gaze with one of his own. He wasn’t sure how much Jackson knew.

      “You went to high school together in Pueblo. At least for a year. And I’m guessing that’s why you volunteered. You don’t do much witness protection anymore. I was under the impression you dodged it when you could. So why this case over any other?” Jackson frowned and looked closely at Trent. “Is it all because you know her?”

      “Partly,” Trent agreed. It was true, he knew Tara or at least he’d known her as a girl. One thing was certain, he’d never forgotten her.

      “Is she a friend?” Jackson asked.

      “No,” Trent said, knowing that kind of relationship could have him pulled from the case. But they weren’t friends. They hadn’t been in touch for years. “It’s complicated.”

      “Uncomplicate me,” Jackson said.

      “I took her out a few times and then it fizzled,” he admitted, knowing it was safer to reveal a scaled-down version of their relationship rather than try to get it all past Jackson.

      “But you dated her?”

      “Like I said, a few dates in high school.” Tara. She’d caught his eye from the beginning. She’d been more mature for her years, at least to his seventeen-year-old self, she’d seemed so. Now he had nothing left but memories. Regrets that never left him.

      He needed this assignment. He needed to find her and keep her safe like he hadn’t all those years ago.

      He met Jackson’s doubting gaze. He hoped the truth didn’t show in his face. That it had been more than a few dates, that he’d never forgotten her. Not that he held a torch for her; it was nothing like that. He’d gone on with his life, dated other women and was currently solidly single and happy.

      But Jackson wouldn’t believe that Trent’s volunteering for this assignment didn’t mean something else. Jackson was cynical that way, which might be why he was still a bachelor. He didn’t understand that you could care for someone without being in a relationship.

      Trent pushed the thoughts from his mind. None of that mattered. What mattered was Tara and keeping her safe.

      While they hadn’t spoken in the years since she left Pueblo, he knew where she’d been and much of what had happened to her. He knew that she’d returned to Pueblo after taking classes toward a general arts degree with a minor in admin from a state university. He knew, too, that she’d never finished that degree. He knew a lot more than he wanted to admit.

      “Unfortunately, none of that is relevant. Due to the fact that she’s on the run, we need a change in protocol. What we need,” Jackson said, staring Trent down, “is someone who can get inside her head. Fortunately, she didn’t cover her tracks well. We were able to learn where she was headed from the note left by her phone. She took a flight from Denver to Mexico City.” He looked at his smartwatch. “She should have landed over six hours ago.”

      “I don’t like the sound of any of this. Old-school as a bank robbery is, these people have proved to be vicious. They’ve left a trail of bodies across two states in the last year. And there’s nothing to say they weren’t the ones who broke in looking for her.”

      “Exactly. And they’re still on the loose. As far as Tara goes, we’re finalizing the setup of a safe house,” Jackson said. “I will send you the details once it’s complete. Unfortunately, we have no witness to put there.”

      “I’ll rectify that,” Trent said with determination. But fear rode in his gut. She was alone and in Mexico with a killer who could be hot on her trail. And if he wasn’t, there could be contacts, people deployed—unknowns. He was in a race to find Tara.

      “Let’s get you on a flight out. Your history may make it easier to establish trust with her,” Jackson said. “That is, once you locate her.”

      “I’ll find her,” Trent said as if to reinforce the confidence Jackson had in him.

      “I’m counting on it. I’ve a moratorium on body bags. This gang has to be shut down—fast. This has been a bad year for murders. I don’t need these yahoos carrying on and making it worse than it already is.”

      Trent nodded but he was buried in his thoughts about how effective he was going to be. The wild card was Tara. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been in tears. Then he’d considered it unnecessary drama. He’d acted like a typical teenage boy—without empathy, without much feeling of any kind. He’d turned his back on her tears but not before telling her that she was acting like a baby.

      Despite his youth at the time, the memory still disturbed him. It was his one regret in life. Her tears were ones that he had caused. On hearing that her family was moving, instead of comforting her and offering ways that they could remain in touch, he’d broken up with her. It had been a completely defensive reaction. Walking away, acting macho had somehow cloaked his own hurt.

      He wished he could go back and tell that self that he needed to grow up. He wished that he could have prevented the whole scene. Prevented everything that happened to her immediately after.

      But at the time, he had been too busy hiding his feelings when he’d heard that she was moving. Too busy trying to be tough to realize the pain he had caused her. He hadn’t understood what he was losing when he’d thought it wise to break up rather than go long-distance. And then it had all gotten worse when her father had been shot by someone assumed to be criminally involved with the very suspect he was to testify against.

      But that was the past. He could see why Tara had run. She had a bad history with authorities. She was walking proof that the law couldn’t always do what it promised. Her father was promised protection, and he’d believed. Now he was dead.

      She’d not be happy to see Trent. The last thing she’d said to him was that she’d never forgive him. They’d been young then but the words haunted him even now. They were words that told him she’d have none of his presence shadowing her and that she wouldn’t be apt to take his counsel.

      What she’d need to know was that there was no choice. He was her shadow until this was over. He’d keep her safe. He could only hope to hell that she stayed safe until he found her.

      His thoughts flipped to the threat. This group was as yesteryear as it was violent. Bank robberies were passé. It was only the number and violence associated with their crimes that was taking them up the ladder of Most Wanted. The fact that there’d not only been a witness in their latest robbery, but they’d gone after her changed everything. The break-in at her house, combined with the fact that the witness had disappeared, had turned the case on its head.

      He thought of how gutsy she was, returning to live alone in Pueblo, forging ahead with her life. Not only that, but she’d come face-to-face with a bank robber. Now she was alone and confronting a danger no civilian should have to. He had to find her and quickly.

      “By the way, if you hadn’t volunteered, I would have asked for you,” Jackson said. “You might not like witness protection, but you haven’t failed once. We’ve lost no witnesses under your watch. And this—I admit, I hesitated because of the personal connection. I’d hate to see—”

      “Like

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