A Sneak Peek

DANGEROUS MEMORIES

"Gun!"

U.S. Marshal Levi Cooper did a three-sixty search for the person shouting or confirmation of an actual gun. He couldn't see anything, but he couldn't take a chance with Jolene's life. He moved. "Everybody down!" The few people attending the funeral heard the warning and scattered away from the casket.

All except the target.

So he ran. Slipping and sliding downhill through the mud and sheets of pouring rain, he ran to save her life.

He watched Jolene Atkins continue to stand under the canopy erected by the funeral home. Next to her father's casket, still suspended on the lowering system, her shoulders shook as if she were crying.

She didn't take cover.

Levi hurdled a flower arrangement to get to her faster. He should have listened to himself earlier and never left her side. He heard the shot. Choices? Either hit the dirt or run like those in his peripheral vision. He leapt in a flying tackle to take Jolene down with him.

He'd pushed hard off the slippery grass, heavily landing on top of her. He turned as much as he could to take the brunt of the fall. Their bodies slid off the fake-grass rug, into the mud.

Wreath stands fell onto the casket.

Roses and other flowers fell on their heads.

Rain pelted them like ice shards.

Levi rolled on top of her, keeping his weight on his elbows and knees, using the bulletproof vest he wore to shield her heart. If it were only that easy.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Jolene shook her short dark hair and wiped the rain from her face.  Was the hitch in her breathing and wide-eyed confusion from falling or recognition he was there?

"You."

Recognition. She twisted trying to free herself. "I should have known you'd stoop to dramatics to prove yourself right."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He eased his body the opposite direction he wanted her to roll.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." She shoved him aside, and a blood red carnation fell to the puddle between them. On her stomach, she put her hands in the mud and curled her toes.

He'd knocked her right out of her shoes.

"Did you have to ruin his funeral?"

"We need cover." Ignoring her accusations, he jerked her hand into his, forcing her close to his side. He pulled his weapon from its holster. Not a good situation. No backup. No idea who had pulled that trigger.

The shot had definitely come from the top of the hill behind them. On their knees, he awkwardly draped an arm over Jo, keeping her body low to the ground until they could sit with the coffin at their backs—the only cover he had.

"Did you stage this?" she asked, one hand in a fist, the other pointing toward the trees.

The coat she wore was thin and already soaked through. She’d be frozen in a matter of minutes.

"Stage a guy trying to kill you at your father's funeral?"

"I wouldn't put it past a devious person to do anything to get what he wants."

"I thought this site was a bad idea." He didn't blame her. He'd been against having the funeral in St. Louis from the start. She'd insisted on using the plot next to her mother’s.

"Four years ago, you and my father assured me he was no longer in witness protection."

Yeah, she was angry. Someone had just taken a shot at her and she was yelling at him.

"One problem at a time. I can't see a shooter."

The trouble really began when Levi tried to explain why her father had convinced her he was no longer in the witness protection program. Explaining was difficult when he didn't understand why Joseph had lied, either.

"Jolene, I'm here against orders because I'm probably the only person left who believes your father." Believed. A week had passed and it was still hard to think of Joseph as dead. "Why won't you trust me?"

"You lied." She drew her knees up to her chin and hid her face. "You both lied."

Levi couldn't respond. It was a truth he couldn't deny or justify at the moment. Helping her would keep his promise to her dad but it wouldn't make her feel better. Wanting to comfort her was a part of attending the funeral. He knew how hard it was to say goodbye to a parent. Not exactly under these circumstances, but he knew. There wasn't any time for comfort.

The sound of car engines faded and the whine of police sirens grew.

Mourners were gone. Flower arrangements were destroyed. No sounds other than the tent canopy flapping in the wind and rain pelting the tarp. The chance to say goodbye with dignity was done. Jolene couldn't hear his professionalism shattering within his mind.

"Is there any reason to continue sitting in the mud?" she asked, wiping rivulets of water from her face.

"Give me a minute to check things out." Making demands had never worked with Joseph Atkins' daughter. Hadn't worked with him, either.

She seemed to accept his statement, remaining still while he zigzagged from one headstone to the next, attempting to draw another attack. Nothing happened. No one in sight. Even the cemetery workers had fled.

"Let's go, Jolene." He raised his voice and ran back to the grave site swiping at his wet face. "We need to leave before the cops haul us in for questioning."

"Your big marshal badge won't keep the police at bay?" She pushed back her hair and seemed to notice the strewn disorder around them. "I can't leave things like this." She immediately set flowers straight, scooped her heels from where she'd originally stood and stuffed them in her coat pockets.

His badge wouldn't give him any authority over Jolene and he had no official reason to be in Missouri. Jolene stopped short at a small headstone—the one placed to declare her death and escape into WITSEC.

"Jo…" He took her elbow and gently tugged her toward his car. "He'd want you safe."

"But—"

"No buts. We're going."

They skirted the edge of the cemetery back to his rental car, exiting through the gate opposite where the police entered. Joseph Atkins would rest in peace next to the wife he'd never stopped loving. Which was the reason Levi had finally agreed to bury him where friends thought he'd been buried for twenty years.

Five minutes down the road with the heater blasting on high, Jolene took a visible, deep breath. The tears seemed to be over for the moment. He needed her calm. Thinking straight.

"What are you doing here, Levi? Or should I call you Marshal Cooper?"

"I came to say goodbye to a good friend."

"Don't you mean client? Or witness? I can't believe Dad kept this from me. Why? What was the point? How could you have gone along with it?"

"I admit that being introduced to you as a family friend wasn't my idea, but your dad did what he thought was right. He was always thinking about your safety."

"Come on, Levi. Does this really seem like the best thing to you?"

They were both soaked to the skin, making him wish he'd rented a car with warming seats. Her makeup was circling her emerald eyes from both tears and the rain. Did it look like the best thing? Not by a long shot, but she was alive.

"In the past week, my father died in a car accident. The United States Marshals Service advised that burying him next to my mother may alert her murderers to my whereabouts, but because I wasn't officially in the WITSEC program they couldn't help me. And you show up yesterday with a letter supposedly from my father."

"It's real."

"Stow it. He lied for four years, he's lying now. I did not witness my mother's murder." She shook her short hair so hard drops of water sailed across the car. "I've seen the best therapists WITSEC had to offer. Everyone believes I'm not a witness—except you."

"And your father. And the person who tried to kill you a half hour ago."

"If you hadn't shouted 'gun' we would have finished his service. In all the rain, you probably saw a stick or something."

"I didn't shout gun." So who had shouted? Someone who wanted the crowd out of the way?

One warning. One shot. One attempt. And no one tailing them. Didn't make sense. If they were tailed, he'd pull into one of the restaurants with rear street exits he'd found yesterday. Easier to elude a following car than attempt to outrun them.

"And I know the difference between a stick and gun. Even in the rain."

"Yes, but you are a liar."

"That does it." He quickly switched lanes, pulling into an empty fast-food lot and headed toward the dumpster.

Stomping on the breaks, the rental skidded to a stop. He had it under control, but Jolene still held onto the dashboard. It took her a minute before she relaxed into the seat.

The rain continued. Hail pinged the roof a couple of times or he would have stood outside. He shook off his coat in the cramped space, pulled at the straps holding the vest in place and yanked it over his head, tossing both into the backseat.

"Would you take me to my hotel on Paige near Highway 270? Aren't you worried they're following us?" She shook her hands in the air. "Whoever they are."

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am." He shifted in the seat and hooked his arm over the steering wheel. "But let's get one thing straight. I did not willingly lie to you. I respected your father's wishes. For some reason he wanted you away from him. He said it was important for you to have a life outside of witness protection after you graduated. So I helped with that by keeping the fact I was his WITSEC handler to myself. I have to protect others every day. It's part of my job. But I am not a liar."

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? THE QUESTION FOR READERS TODAY ?
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