Wanted for Life Read online

“I shook them.”

  “So they know that you know you were being tailed?” As convoluted as her question was, he understood.

  He grimaced. “When someone is following you, your instinct is to lose them.”

  “I’m not accusing you of messing up. Although I wouldn’t blame you since you’ve been out of the game for over a year.”

  He didn’t need a free pass. He hadn’t messed up. “I assure you, I didn’t wreck your cover.”

  “I didn’t say you did—” She was interrupted by Pudge as he put his paws on the door, barking savagely.

  “They’re coming. Go hide,” he ordered, knowing she wouldn’t like that.

  “I don’t want to hide.” She pulled her gun and chambered a round.

  Normally he found that sexy, but this time fear rattled his spine. He could lose her. Whoever was waiting on the other side of the door would take her away. Either in cuffs or a bag.

  If the person in his backyard was law enforcement, he didn’t want anyone to get hurt. After all, they were just doing their job. They didn’t know she was innocent.

  “Wait a second,” he said, thinking of another option. One that might actually get her to stand down rather than going with a more aggressive option. “The neighbor lady makes the best apple dumplings I’ve ever had, and she always makes enough for me. I don’t want to have to move because of a shootout in my backyard.”

  “Someone contacted me,” she said. “Via email.”

  Surprised, he waited for her to continue. He could tell she didn’t want to tell him. “Who?”

  “I think it was the killer. They’re playing a game. I don’t think they can really know where I am.”

  “But they said they did?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed and nodded.

  Pudge was still barking viciously.

  “Angel, you can’t shoot someone in my backyard because you think it might be the killer.”

  “Fine. I assume you have one of those nifty Hawaiian words for attack?” She nodded toward the dog who was desperate to get out.

  “Yes.”

  He moved to the door and grasped the knob. While he didn’t want to hurt his neighbor, a kid messing around with eggs, or a cop doing his duty, he also didn’t want to put Pudge at a disadvantage if someone was coming to finish off the loose end they’d left at Heath Zeller’s apartment. If Pudge wasn’t allowed to attack, he could be hurt, or worse.

  Colton opened the door and gave the command. Pudge leaped over the railing and tore off down the length of the yard. When he ran under a bush, Colton thought maybe he had been wrong about the bunny, but then he heard a man shouting for help.

  After a number of incoherent—and painful—sounds, the man shouted, “I’m with Thorne.”

  “Shit,” Angel said as she pushed past Colton, yelling, “Stop! Pudge, don’t hurt him!”

  As if that was going to work.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Angel was impressed by the way Pudge released U.S. Deputy Marshal Dane Ryan as soon as Colton called him. She patted the dog on the head. He’d done his job well. Even if he’d mangled a friend instead of an intruder. That wasn’t his fault.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped at Dane.

  “At the moment what is wrong with me is that I have holes in my leg,” he muttered angrily.

  “Is that the same leg—”

  “Where Samantha shot me? Yes. Yes, it is.”

  “Oh, hell. I’m sorry. It’s just you’re not our first visitor.” She frowned down at the blood soaking through his pants. This was bad.

  The poor guy had been ordered to take the gun away from Samantha Hutchinson during an op to bring her in. The woman had been scared, and who could blame her? Four U.S. marshals and a father she’d thought long dead had surrounded her, all armed to the teeth. When Dane had followed Supervisor Thorne’s order to disarm her, Sam had shot Dane in the leg. It had all turned out well in the end…except for Dane ending up in the hospital and physical therapy.

  He’d just been released back to work, though he still had a slight limp. Pudge probably hadn’t helped with his rehabilitation.

  “Markel was here already?” Dane asked, and gasped as Angel pulled him to his feet.

  “Yes,” she confirmed, and added sardonically, “Thanks for the heads up.”

  “We weren’t sure you were here. Your fax was a bit vague.”

  “Hello,” Colton said, leaning down to inspect the damage to Dane’s leg. “For the record, she was planning to come out guns a-blazing.”

  “Colton, this is Deputy Marshal Dane Ryan, Dane—Colton, er, Duncan.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Dane held up a bloody hand in a gesture that said he wasn’t able to shake.

  “Right. Let’s get inside and fix you up. You’re going to be fine,” she said, trying not to wince at the amount of blood already covering his jeans.

  “Will you stitch me up?” he asked.

  “Sure thing.” She’d stitched him up the last time he was injured. And another time when he got shot in the shoulder during a raid. And that time he was pushed off a boat and his arm caught on a hook.

  She’d stitched up everyone in her team at one time or another. They all liked her work. It was what family did for one another. Well, theirs, anyway.

  As Colton helped guide Dane into the bathroom, the doorbell rang, throwing Pudge for another loop.

  Angel looked out the window to see a white sedan in the driveway and Josiah Thorne waiting on the front porch. She opened the door to let him in, staying back so no one could see her.

  When she shut the door, her boss looked her over for a moment, then pulled her into a hug. It wasn’t the first time he’d hugged her, but it had been a while.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, kid.”

  Kid. He’d been calling her that since she was an eighteen-year-old…kid. She knew he wasn’t insulting her. To him, it was a term of endearment. And since he was the closest thing she had to a father, she let it go.

  “Are they watching you?” she guessed.

  “Yeah. Markel is trying to use this story to oust me and shut down Task Force Phoenix. He says I should have known you were unstable. I told him to kiss my ass.”

  Angel smirked as she showed him to a chair.

  “Ouch, God dammit!” Dane shouted from down the hall.

  “He didn’t get shot again, did he?” Thorne only seemed slightly concerned. He cared—she was pretty sure. He just had a cold demeanor.

  “No. Guard dog,” she explained as said dog came up and put his big head on Thorne’s leg for a scratch.

  “This dog? He’s just a big sweetie.” Thorne rubbed him behind the ears, clearly seeing no threat. Not even when Pudge’s mouth fell open and his dopey tongue slid out over those impressively pointy teeth.

  “You know Dane. Such a baby.” She laughed.

  “I heard that,” Dane called from the bathroom. “Are you going to stitch this up or let me bleed to death slowly?”

  “I’ll be right there!” she called before turning back to her boss. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’d love a beer. The flight was a bitch.”

  “Dog bite in here! Blood loss!” Dane complained as Colton walked out laughing.

  “Colton, this is Supervisory Deputy United States Marshal Josiah Thorne.” Wow, what a mouthful.

  “Colton, nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Don’t tell him that, he’ll think I like him,” Angel stage-whispered to Colton as she went to the kitchen to get them both a beer. Colton sat across from Thorne, and the two of them started talking about the dog as if they were great friends.

  After delivering the beers, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and headed to the bathroom to take care of her patient.

  Chapter Forty

  “How’s she holding up?” Thorne asked as soon as Angel was out of hearing range.

  Colton could tell the
query was out of concern rather than questioning her sanity. “She’s sound. She’s not sleeping, but I don’t think that’s anything new.”

  “No. It’s been a very long time since she’s slept through the night.”

  How would this man know, except if—

  “The two of you…?” Colton’s eyes went wide. Thorne was old enough to be her father. Though, he did have all his hair. He also had that distinguished look about him that some women liked.

  “God, no.” Thorne shook his head. “Her father was like a brother to me before I joined the Agency and then moved to the Marshals. When he was killed, I tried to look out for her when I could.”

  “Bringing her into Task Force Phoenix?” Colton asked.

  The man’s head snapped up. “She told you about that?”

  “Yes. And I know what happened with her parents, too,” Colton added.

  Thorne snorted in what sounded like surprise.

  “She didn’t have much choice but to tell me. Markel showed up here with photos. He told me she had killed them, and was pretty damn convincing about it, too. Obviously trying to get me to give her up.”

  Colton was embarrassed that he’d even considered the story to be true. While he wouldn’t have given her up, he had been more than nervous when she’d turned up in his bed.

  “Weasely little rat,” Thorne said in disgust.

  “I get that he’d want to have his name attached to solving this case, but he made it seem…personal.”

  “I started Task Force Phoenix for people who needed a fresh start or were starting over. Angel was twenty-one and in jail for identity theft. Markel had gotten dismissed from a police department for forgetting where evidence was supposed to go. He thought I should take him on, but I passed him over for Angel. I guess he’s bitter about my choice. I’ve never regretted my decision. I guess he’s trying to take both of us down in one fell swoop.”

  “You think he killed Heath Zeller?” Colton’s hand instinctively fisted. Markel had been so close.

  “No. He wouldn’t have been able to get past Angel.”

  “She’s very thorough.” And yet, someone had gotten past her.

  “She’s the best at her job. And—”

  “God damn! Son of a bitch! Mother fucker!” Dane yelled from the bathroom, making Thorne wince before he finished his sentence.

  “—at causing a lot of pain.”

  Colton couldn’t argue with that. He knew when she left it would cause a lot of pain for him.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “This is going to hurt,” Angel warned Dane with a frown.

  “Oh, good. Thanks for telling me. I thought it was going to feel like kittens—God damn! Son of a bitch! Mother fucker!”

  “Nope. Not like kittens.” She hid her laughter as she blotted the excess antiseptic from the wounds. “Just a few more times to make sure the bite marks are cleaned out.”

  “I thought they say dogs’ mouths are cleaner than ours.”

  “True, but that doesn’t mean theirs are clean, it just means ours are worse.”

  “Oh. They should mention that part.”

  She tilted her head at him. “They lick themselves, Dane. Do you want that in your wounds?”

  “No. Go ahead. Could you blow on it?” Dane’s color was looking a little better, but he was still shaky. He’d lost a lot of blood.

  “No. I’m not blowing on it.” She may have rolled her eyes.

  “Remember the time that guy ripped a chunk of your hair out? I blew on it for you.”

  “Blowing on it makes it worse. The oxygen makes it evaporate even faster, which is what causes the burn.” She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with an adult.

  “Never mind. Your scientific dissertation is more painful than the cleaning.”

  After the next round of cursing, which included a few bad names for her future unborn offspring as well as her deceased mother, she gave it one more dousing of antiseptic and set the bottle on the sink to hand him the other bottle. The one containing a different kind of alcohol.

  “Do you think this is a good idea?” he asked as she was threading the needle.

  “What? You don’t like red? There isn’t any black. It’s this or green.”

  “Red’s fine. I’m talking about you being here.”

  “What? You don’t trust Colton?” That was ridiculous.

  “I don’t trust you with Colton.”

  She rolled her eyes and pierced his skin with the needle. He sucked air through his teeth and let it out slowly. She paused as he took another swig of the whiskey. A much bigger swig.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked as she bent her head to continue her work. The important thing was to keep the stitches small so they didn’t scar. Not that it would matter—not with a giant scar just three inches above it.

  “I remember you being on his watch and ditching it at a moment’s notice. Justin barely got there before you ran off to go help with another case.”

  She shrugged. “So?”

  “So you’re emotionally attached to this guy, and being emotionally attached makes people sloppy.”

  “I thought that was tequila,” she joked, but it didn’t work.

  He gave her the Serious Dane Ryan look. They’d been good friends since he first joined the team four years ago. He’d been her new partner after things with her old partner, Lucas Stone, went south.

  Though, south was a bit of an understatement. What had really happened was she’d trusted someone she shouldn’t have because she’d become emotionally attached to him.

  Christ, she was making Dane’s case for him.

  “If you get caught by law enforcement, you’re screwed.” Dane winced when the thread caught. “We need more time to prove this murder isn’t on you.”

  “I’m not going to get caught.” At least she hoped not.

  “When push comes to shove, we never leave the people we love.”

  “Are you saying you’re in love with me?” she asked. Dane had never left her when she’d needed him. She batted her eyes at him and stuck out her bottom lip.

  “I love you like a bratty little know-it-all sister. If this guy hurts you or causes you to get caught, I will end him.” Dane winced as she jabbed him again.

  “Ah. You’re going to end the guy with the attack dog?” She smiled up at him like the bratty little sister he accused her of being.

  “Stop chatting. You’re only on the first bite mark.” He took another large sip from the bottle.

  She concentrated on sewing up all four wounds, then sighed at her work. “I think your modeling career is over, but they’ll hold. Keep an eye on them for infection.”

  “I will. Thanks.” He pulled up his pants and scowled at Pudge, who had taken a spot outside the bathroom door. “I hate you.”

  “That’s not nice. He’s still a puppy.”

  To help sell it, Pudge rested his chin on his front paws and looked up at Dane with those big brown eyes.

  “Is that how it happened? You fell for the eyes and didn’t see the fangs?”

  She knew Dane wasn’t talking about the dog anymore. “Ha ha.”

  “Make sure you don’t get bit.”

  Right.

  Unfortunately, it was much too late for that.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “You were following me today,” Colton stated, having glanced out his front window to see a familiar white car.

  “How did you know?” Thorne asked conversationally.

  Colton pointed out the window and smiled. “It has a distinctive problem with the weather stripping on the windshield. You’re driving around looking like an angler fish.”

  Thorne laughed at his joke. “Don’t worry. We were just making sure no one else was following you before we made contact. If she’s caught, I won’t be able to help her if I’m implicated as well.”

  “Why did you come personally? Why not just send someone?” Colton asked.

  Surely, there woul
d have been a way for her boss to communicate without anyone knowing. They were U.S. Marshals. Their main job was keeping people hidden. They would have to know how to do that without showing up at someone’s doorstep.

  Thorne glanced down the hall and lowered his voice. “I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

  “Isn’t she always okay?”

  She always seemed cool and calm under any circumstance. But he knew it wasn’t always the case. Colton knew her well enough to see when something was bothering her, no matter how much she tried to hide it.

  “No. Not always.”

  Apparently he wasn’t the only one who could see when she was faking.

  Colton knew she was taking Heath Zeller’s death hard. He saw the guilt in her eyes when she spoke of what happened. And so far, she hadn’t told him any of the details. That was a sign she wasn’t dealing with it.

  Maybe this man would know how to help.

  “She feels responsible,” Colton said. “But what could she have done? She said she was drugged.” No one would have been able to keep Zeller safe if they were unconscious.

  “I was drugged,” Angel said as she helped support a pale-looking Dane out to the living room.

  “Will you live?” Thorne asked his other deputy. Dane’s answer was a glare as he slumped into a chair by the window and peered through the curtains.

  Thorne turned back toward Angel. That was when Colton realized this man truly cared about her. He might not know how to show it, but Colton saw it in the older man’s gaze—concern, worry, and pride.

  The same things he’d seen in his own father’s eyes when Dad had looked at him and his brothers.

  “Have you figured out how they did it?” Thorne asked, his brows rising expectantly.

  She bit her bottom lip for a second before shaking her head. Obviously not wanting to give up, but too curious not to hear her boss’s theory. “No. I’ve been playing it over in my head. We didn’t drink anything that wasn’t tested. I made dinner myself.”

  “Toothpaste.” Thorne’s lips pulled up in a smug, lopsided grin.

  “Toothpaste!” She palmed her forehead. “I should have thought of that.”