Lyndee's Saviors [Men of Montana] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (36 page)

Glancing at her, Lawrence saw her smile never faltered. Taking Storm’s hand in his, he shook it. “Lawrence. Lawrence Whitaker.”

Trey, dressed in his sheriff’s deputy uniform, stepped forward next and took the young man’s hand and shook it also. “I’m Trey. Storm’s brother.”

Lawrence was still hesitant around them, even with Austin and herself, which was surprising to the woman since she knew him from work. They all seemed to understand then what was going on between the two men, and the Goodalls and Austin didn’t seem to have a problem with it, though Lawrence and Wolf seemed to. It would work out for them as it did for the brothers and cousin and herself.

Clearing his voice, Lawrence shifted from one foot to the other. “I will wait for you in the hall with the guards. We need to leave in five.”

The tall blond agent walked through the room and exited the door. They all stood watching him for a few moments longer before everyone began to move around. Trey double-checked his Glock in its holster on his hip while Lyndee checked her Sig Sauer in its shoulder holster. Guns wouldn’t be allowed in the courtroom but at least they would be able to keep hold of them until security was reached. The guys had told Lyndee at breakfast that the guns in the truck had already been loaded and locked in the toolbox in the bed of the truck. Parking had been permitted for them since Trey was a police officer, letting them park closer to the building in case the vehicle was needed quickly.

Austin and Storm both wore dark jeans and a sports coat over a black long-sleeved T-shirt. As Lyndee slipped on her shoes, adding three inches to her petite height, she looked over her men, all tall, muscular, and handsome, and pride consumed her that they were hers. Wolf was as handsome as her men in his dark jeans and a dark-blue T-shirt, the blue sling marring the overall image of the masculine man. Both his and Austin’s hair were both pulled back in leather bands while Storm’s hair hung still damp down to his shoulders. Trey let his hang down below his ears.

When Lyndee stood before them, each man stepped up, gathered her in his arms, and gave her a long kiss. Wolf stepped forward and hugged her also, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. No words needed to be spoken as she knew they were all being encouraging and supportive so she just nodded and smiled. Together they walked through the room to the door and stood before it. Trey opened the door to find John, Lawrence, and four uniformed police officers standing in front of it.

John stepped forward and took Lyndee’s hands in his. “Are you ready for this?”

Her body betrayed her nervousness but her men showed their support. Austin was behind her and his hands sat on her hips, and Storm and Trey’s hands lay at the small of her back, one above the other, giving her a mental nod that they were there for her.

Looking directly into her eyes, John let his hand come up and caress her cheek. “I know this is going to be tough and that Markova’s attorney will say some things that will be hurtful even though they might not be true, but you have all of us to protect you. Use us to keep you calm. Don’t let them get to you. You have a wonderful future ahead of you. We’ll make sure you get through this so you can get on with the rest of your life.”

Stepping forward, she threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him close to her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

Letting go of Lyndee, John pulled back and with authority he issued the command, “Let’s go!”

The four uniformed officers walked down the hallway toward the elevator while the four men belonging to Lyndee followed to the rear while Lawrence walked to her left and John to her right. They kept her close as they waited for the elevator and then they all stepped into it, stepping into accept the fate that was to become the next step in Lyndee’s life.

The high profile of the case caused a media frenzy, which meant a blitz of reporters, mics, and cameras awaited the arrival of any person significant or insignificant, for that matter, involved. The arrival of the woman who pulled down a top mob figure along with her ten-man entourage sent all media scrambling to get the first interview with Lyndee. The officers tried to clear the way for everyone, but as they passed anyone, others came around shoving microphones and cameras in the remainder of the group’s faces. The four cowboys practically growled each time they had to push away the media electronics and even a few reporters themselves away from their woman. Several reporters found themselves on their asses as there was no uncertainty that Lyndee was unapproachable.

Stepping into the building came with no less aggravation than the media circus out front. Having to stand in line to get through the metal detector was frustrating for the four cowboys as it wasn’t something they were used to, and they had all worn their big belt buckles and boots with the silver tips on the toes. Lyndee, John, and Trey had to relinquish their weapons, which caused further irritation, but they knew it had to be done. Since this was so high profile, the group was assured that the amount of Sheriff’s deputies had been increased, though it didn’t provide much comfort to any of the men.

* * * *

Approaching the double doors to the courtroom assigned to the case, a tall blond man with Slavic features stepped up to the group. His steel gray eyes were sharp and unfeeling. Not as muscular as the cowboys, he still commanded a presence. His body was still intimidating but his beautiful face showed his confidence and oozed sex appeal and charm. His grayish-blue thousand-dollar suit hung on his delicious frame as it had been custom made for him as were all of his clothes. Women would usually be hanging off his arm, but this morning, he had two men who stood behind him in their own dark suits and again, the telltale shades that everyone that had come after Lyndee had been wearing. Storm actually thought they must have stock in the sunglasses company.

The man stuck his hand out to Lyndee, who looked at it with distain. “Miss Dwyer, it’s good to see you again. I hope that the business we have conducted in the past won’t be held against me. But of course, things you did are considered inappropriate to your position and could result in corrective action against you.”

The smooth baritone voice with the Russian accent was contemptuous and condescending, but the growls from her four cowboys caught the man off guard. He knew about them from Philip but he was surprised that these fine paragons of American culture would take up with a prostitute. Pulling his hand back he took one step backward.

“I hope there will be no hard feelings when this is all over, Miss Dwyer,” Markova practically purred, noticing the frustrated looks on the cowboy’s faces. “Perhaps when this is over, we can find another position for you within one of my business ventures. Perhaps we can find you a spot on the Governor’s reelection committee. I’m sure you would be an asset to it.”

Though size wasn’t his friend amongst the four cowboys and Lawrence, his speed took John front and center, his hands out at forty-five degree angles to keep them from attacking the bold Slavic. His voice was low and tight as he tried to restrain himself from attacking the insulting man. “You are not to approach or speak with Miss Dwyer during or after the trial. She will never go back to work for you, for when this is over, you will be spending the rest of your life in prison. Is that clear, Markova?”

The tall blond glared at John, then Lyndee, and then the rest of the men before he threw his head back and let loose his laughter. His confidence was running high at the moment, which caused nervousness to run roughshod over everyone in the FBI’s group.

“I will get a restraining order for you if you come near her again,” John threatened. “And don’t bother sending any more of your goons after her. They just make good target practice for her friends here.”

Still smiling though coldness touched his eyes, Markova stepped closer to John then lowered his head and spoke slowly and low. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable, John. We wouldn’t want your wife to know of the feelings you have for Miss Dwyer. We have pictures and they will be used.”

Indignation struck John as his fists rolled up at his sides at the insinuation voiced. “My wife knows Miss Dwyer and I have had to work closely with each other.” Storm and Austin reached for John as the agent grasped Markova by his tie but weren’t able to pull him away quick enough before he pulled the tall blond down closer to him by his tie then whispered venomously. “Don’t ever threaten me or my family again, Markova! You get near them before you are locked away forever I will personally take care of you myself.”

* * * *

Lyndee watched as this all unfurled before her. Surreal. That was the only word she could think of. The officers had her backside as Trey held her hand. Wolf stepped forward, stepping between John and Markova, a sneer on his face that frightened Lyndee. His shoulder twitched as if it knew that the man confronting them was the one responsible for the injury it had obtained. The two men were equal in height but Wolf outweighed Markova by a good thirty pounds of raw muscle. A nerve twitched in the Russian’s jaw as he readjusted his expensive tie.

Wolf’s words were low and calculating. “Stay away from Lyndee. Do not look at her and do not ever speak to her again. She is part of our family now and will be protected by us. The same goes for John and his family. If I ever hear of you threatening any of my friends or family again, I will find you and slit your throat. I will even go to prison to do it if I have to. Beware of the darkness, comrade, for you don’t know what lurks within it!”

Austin and Storm pulled John and Wolf away from the Slavic mobster and ushered their group through the doors to the ominously chilled courtroom. Taking the bench along the back wall to their right, they sat, Lyndee between Trey and Storm while Austin and Wolf pulled up the outside of the threesome. Lawrence sat next to Wolf while John took the end at the aisle. The men didn’t remove their cowboy hats so their presence drew a lot of stares and hushed comments from people already sitting in the gallery.

Markova and his misfits trailed in a few minutes later. Looking around he eyed the group at the back of the room before he went through the swinging gate at the front. Waiting for him there was a rotund man about five feet eight. He was bald except for a strip of brown hair around the bottom of his plump head and he had a small mustache, which made him look devious, and his small, beady eyes within his puffy face caused him to appear shifty. He greeted his client enthusiastically, letting the tall man hug him. They made a spectacle of themselves with their greeting, but everyone in the Goodall-Dwyer group knew it was a rouse to make them nervous.

The prosecutor was at his desk reading over some papers. Lyndee had met with him a couple times during the week via Skype on her computer since she wasn’t allowed to leave the hotel room. They had gone over her testimony, which seemed simple enough, though he had warned her of a few things Markova’s lawyer could try to embarrass her with or degrade her with. She didn’t care. She wanted the scum to go to jail. It didn’t matter what image the slimy lawyer painted of her as long as those who knew her well knew she wasn’t that person. She would be gone from Denver soon enough.

As if he could tell she was there, Prosecutor James turned around and nodded to her then he noticed the group she was with and his left eyebrow rose in curiosity. He gave a nod to John before his eyes skimmed the rest of the courtroom. There were others to testify, those who had been undercover as Lyndee had been and others who had been affected by the mobster.

Storm and Trey held her hands while Austin had his arm around the back of Storm’s shoulders so he could keep a hand on his woman also. They had to all show her they were there for her. They all noticed there were seven Sheriff’s deputies in the room in full uniform. Two stood at the back door, one in each corner at the rear of the room, two up at the front on opposite sides, and one near the judge’s podium, to the right. A male court reporter sat to the left of the judge’s podium opposite the jury box ready to start his day. Anxiety seemed to weigh down upon the room.

The door to the left of the judge’s podium opened and the deputy standing before it stood straighter. “All rise. The United States District Court of Colorado is now in session. The Honorable Judge Martin Scott presiding,” he seemed to shout. Everyone rose. Waiting for the judge to enter and then be seated in his chair, the deputy waited for a nod from the judge. “You may all be seated.”

At that point, the jury was brought in. There were eight men of different ethnic backgrounds in different forms of dress and the four women were dressed nicely in dresses. There were three Caucasian women and one Hispanic.

Judge Scott looked over some papers before looking out into the crowded courtroom. There wasn’t a vacant seat in the room. His eyes moved over Markova before moving on to the prosecutor. Looking back at the shifty lawyer in his shabby suit sitting next to the pristine Alex Markova, he asked for his opening argument.

The stout man stood, straightened his tie, and pompously walked to the jury box. Looking at the members of the jury, he began his speech. He went on for about an hour, defending his client, and unfortunately Markova was getting his money’s worth. When he was finally finished he started back to the defense table, but before he sat down, he let his little beady eyes scan the crowd before lighting on Lyndee. Holding her gaze for only a moment, he sat and leaned toward Markova to make a comment.

Lyndee fussed in her seat, irritation eating away at her. Her three men tried to calm her but she was so fidgety after that visual exchange with the lawyer, as if he was challenging her. They all knew that that’s what Markova was trying to accomplish in the lobby but now his attorney was doing it also. Now they were beginning to feed off of her irritation. Lunch time couldn’t come fast enough for them. They needed to get her out this place for a while to calm her fears.