The Marshal's Hostage (4 page)

His jaw muscles stirred. His mouth tightened, and Dallas finally shook his head.

Good.

Because Joelle wanted it dropped now. It was hard to defend the decisions she’d made when she was seventeen.

“Even if Owen somehow managed to fake the evidence on that knife,” she said, getting them back to what they should be discussing, “he would use it against you. Against me, too.”

“You?” he snapped.

“Because I concealed the lab report. I didn’t intend to conceal it permanently,” she added quickly. “Just long enough so I could figure out who really did kill Webb.”

“And who did?” Dallas pressed.

She had to shake her head. “I honestly don’t know. But I worked out a deal with Owen,” Joelle explained. “If I marry him, I can’t be forced to testify against him regarding anything I learned during my investigation. And he won’t testify against me for delaying the release of any evidence I found.”

Dallas looked down at her. He didn’t have to voice his displeasure. She could feel it in every solid inch of him. He started cursing again, and he jabbed the keys into the ignition of the four-wheeler and started it.

“You were a fool to trust Owen,” she heard him say even over the roar of the engine.

They barreled out of the shed and onto the trail that she figured would take them back to town. Dallas was obviously still determined to get her to the hospital.

And then arrest Owen.

Then Owen would have Dallas arrested.

That would mean she would be exactly where she’d fought so hard not to be—with Dallas in jail and Owen pretty much calling the shots about the release of the knife and evidence.

“The knife looked familiar,” she said, but she wasn’t sure he heard her. Later, she’d have to make him hear.

She’d also have to put a stop to his plans to arrest Owen.

Somehow.

And maybe she could do that merely by describing the knife, by telling Dallas her suspicions about whose it was. Except it was much more than a suspicion.

Joelle was fairly certain, and if she was right, then all the evidence would only lead to multiple arrests.

“You have to stop this,” she begged Dallas.

He went board stiff, and for a moment Joelle thought she’d gotten through his thick skull. He threaded the four-wheeler into a cluster of trees on the banks of a stream, then stopped and killed the engine. When she opened her mouth to ask why he’d done that, he touched his fingers to his lips in a stay-quiet gesture. He also shoved her behind him on the seat and drew his gun.

Alarmed at both the gestures and the concerned look in his eyes, Joelle followed his gaze back to the cabin.

And that’s when she saw the two men.

They were dressed in dark clothes, and both were carrying rifles. It definitely wasn’t Owen or the armed
assistants
he’d had with him back at the church, but Joelle had no doubts that they worked for Owen. They’d come looking for Dallas and for her.

One of the men looked directly at them, and she sucked in her breath, waiting for them to demand that Dallas drop his gun so they could take her back to Owen. Instead, the man said something to his comrade.

And then they both trained those rifles on Dallas and her.

Chapter Five

Hell.
This was not how Dallas wanted this to go down.

Joelle was still half-dazed, and they were miles from town with no phone service for him to call for backup and help. Now he had to deal with two armed bozos who no doubt worked for the very man Dallas wanted to arrest.

After what Joelle had just told him about Owen blackmailing her, it wasn’t a surprise that her
fiancé
had wanted to stop her from talking.

Or stop her from backing out of the marriage.

But Dallas was a little surprised that Owen would order his men to aim rifles at a federal marshal, especially when that marshal knew exactly what a dirt wad Owen really was.

In hindsight, he should have already gotten Joelle out of the woods and back to town, but Dallas had been so anxious to hear her explanation as to why she was marrying a weasel that he’d now let that weasel get the drop on them.

Later, he’d kick himself for that Texas-size mistake. But for now, he had a situation to contain.

“Put down your gun,” one of the bozos warned. He was lean and mean-looking like his partner, but they weren’t the men who’d been back at the church. “And drop those keys for the four-wheeler.”

If he’d been alone, Dallas wouldn’t have considered giving up without a fight, but he didn’t want Joelle in the middle of a shootout.

“You do know who I am, right?” Dallas pointed toward his badge just in case their boss hadn’t filled them in on who they were dealing with.

“You’re a rogue marshal,” the man answered. He took a step closer. “And you’re to hand Ms. Tate over to us.”

Dallas couldn’t argue with the rogue part, but he sure as heck could with the rest. “Not a chance. She’s in my protective custody.”

Well, almost.

After everything she’d told him, Joelle certainly needed some kind of protection from Owen. Of course, Dallas had his own issues to work out with Owen and that blasted knife.

“I’ll go with them,” Joelle mumbled. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Too late, trouble’s here,” Dallas told her. “And you’re not going anywhere with them.”

“Remember, Owen can have you arrested,” she tried.

“Not if I arrest him first.” That was the plan, anyway, but Dallas had to accept that he, too, could be taken into custody until all of this got sorted out. Still, it was a small price to pay to make sure Joelle didn’t do something as stupid as marry Owen.

To protect Dallas, no less.

Well, to protect her, too, since Owen had threatened to have her arrested. But that was yet something else that wouldn’t be worked out if he surrendered to these goons and let them haul Joelle back to Owen. He’d just force a hasty “I do” and then whisk her off somewhere so that Dallas couldn’t get to her.

“Put down your gun,” the man repeated.

“Or what?” Dallas answered. “You plan to shoot a lawman, huh?”

The two glanced at each other as if they might consider doing just that. And maybe they would. Obviously, Owen had been willing to go pretty darn far to get what he wanted and hide his criminal activity. Just in case Owen had given these two orders to shoot, Dallas kept his gun aimed at the guy who’d been doing the talking.

There was a snapping sound behind him, and while trying to keep an eye on the men in front of them, Dallas gave a quick glance over his shoulder. He’d hoped the sound had come from Joelle, but no such luck. It was the sound of footsteps, but he didn’t even have time to fully turn toward them before he heard a gun go off.

Dallas cursed, hooked his left arm around Joelle and dragged her off the four-wheeler and to the ground. He came up ready to fire, but judging from the sound and angle of the shot, neither of them had fired it.

It’d come from behind Joelle and him.

And another shot quickly followed.

Dallas scrambled over Joelle, shoving her beneath him to protect her.

“They want me,” she insisted. Obviously still under the stupid assumption that Dallas was going to let her surrender, she tried to get up. He pushed her right back down.

“Stay put,” he warned her.

“But they’re trying to kill us.”

Except they weren’t. Both bullets slammed into the tires of the four-wheeler, making the vehicle impossible to drive. And that was bad news because Dallas had planned on using it to make their escape.

“Drop your gun,” the guy with the rifle repeated, “and no one will get hurt.”

“You sure about that?” Dallas countered. “Because those bullets came darn close to hitting us.”

The man made a sound of disagreement. “If he’d wanted you dead, you already would be.”

And Dallas figured that was the sad truth.

He glanced all around, trying to pinpoint the shooter, but Dallas couldn’t see anyone in the thick woods. Thanks to the spring growth, everything was in full leaf and bushy. Plenty of places for a shooter to hide. At least the shots hadn’t come from the stream that was several yards below the embankment because if Joelle and he had to hoof it out of there, that stream was their best bet.

It was
negotiation
time.

“We’re all going into Maverick Springs to talk this out,” Dallas said, making sure it didn’t sound like a suggestion but the order of an ornery lawman. Which he was, at this point. “Of course, all three of you, or however many the hell there are of you, are all under arrest. Your boss, too.”

And he waited.

Joelle didn’t say a word. Didn’t move. However, Dallas could hear her breath gusting and feel her heart racing.

“No deal,” one of the bozos in front of him finally answered. “Our orders are to deliver you back to the church. Both of you.”

Now that was an interesting order, especially since someone at the church had probably noticed a ruckus going on and called the local cops. Dallas doubted that Owen could manage to silence everyone. Did Owen really think he could go through with those vows to a drugged bride and stand a snowball’s chance of calling it a legal union?

Maybe.

And the problem was that Owen was pretty much in control at the church. He had those three armed guards. Maybe more. It was the last place Dallas wanted to take Joelle since Owen could somehow neutralize him. Dallas didn’t plan to be
neutralized
easily, but six gunmen were more than he wanted to face down with Joelle in tow.

“Get ready to move,” Dallas whispered to her.

This would seriously test the gunman’s assurance that no one was going to get hurt, but Dallas figured it was best to get Joelle out of there rather than risk what Owen had planned for her.

Joelle mumbled a “what?” but Dallas didn’t answer her. They had to do this as fast as possible.

Using his body, he gave her a hard nudge, and together they rolled off the embankment and into the stream below. There wasn’t much water—both a blessing and a curse. At least they wouldn’t drown, but if the water had been deep with a strong current, it could have maybe whisked them away.

They landed hard, but Dallas tried to take the brunt of the fall. He didn’t take even a second to breathe. He hooked his arm around Joelle’s waist and got her sloshing through the ankle-deep water. Dallas went in the opposite direction of where he figured the shooter was still hiding.

“Hurry,” he urged Joelle because he knew they didn’t have much time before the gunmen made it to the embankment. Seconds at best.

And he needed to find some sort of cover so they could get some breathing room. He spotted a possible solution just ahead where the banks of the stream weren’t so high. There was a pile of rocks, and the once-high water had shoved dead trees and limbs against them. It was wide enough to stop bullets. The thought had no sooner crossed his mind when he heard something else he didn’t want to hear.

Another shot.

He shoved Joelle ahead of him in case the bullet came their way, but it didn’t seem to land anywhere near them. Dallas didn’t wait around to see if the shooter would get better aim; he latched on to Joelle and shoved her behind the rocks.

“I can talk to them,” she said in between sucking in huge gulps of air.

“No, you can’t.”

But Joelle probably didn’t hear him because more bullets came, and these smacked into the rocks. Man, they were loud, and that deafening noise didn’t do much to steady Joelle’s nerves. She was shaking now and mumbling a prayer.

Good.

They might need a little divine intervention before this was over.

“Marshal, you’re making a mistake,” someone called out when the shots finally stopped. Dallas recognized the voice. It was the same dirtbag who’d issued the other warnings. “Just put down your gun so we can end this.”

Dallas ignored him and made a quick check of his phone. Still no service, which meant they were on their own in getting out of this. He looked around. Spotted their next move. A patch of trees with some dense underbrush. It was just ten yards away and in the direction he wanted to go because there was a main road less than a quarter of a mile away.

“We’re heading there.” Dallas tipped his head to the clump of oaks and hackberries.

Joelle nodded, but it was a wobbly one, and she was still shaking. Even though her eyes were no longer as glazed as they had been, he still wanted to get her to the hospital. Then he could make sure she was okay and have a blood test done to determine exactly what Owen had used to drug her.

Dallas didn’t wait for another hail of bullets. He got Joelle moving toward the trees. No shots, but he did hear at least one of the gunmen cursing.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Marshal,” the man shouted.

Dallas wanted to tell him that he wasn’t the one playing here, but he didn’t want to waste his breath. Plus, the gunmen could use the sound of his voice to pinpoint their exact location in the bushes. Unlike the rocks, the underbrush wouldn’t give them much protection, and it was best not to do anything to get those bullets flying again.

He pointed to the next clump of trees and tipped his head to let Joelle know they were heading there next. Heck, if he had to, they’d just keep running and ducking behind the trees until they were all the way to the road.

“Joelle?” the man called out.

Great. Now the bozo was trying to bargain with a drugged woman. “Ignore him,” Dallas told her.

She did. Joelle moved when he moved, and they darted behind the next set of trees.

“Joelle?” the guy repeated. “I know you can hear me. So can the marshal. And I don’t think you’re going to want him to hear what I’m about to say.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dallas grumbled under his breath, and he got ready for their next round of evade and escape.

“I’m supposed to give you a message, Joelle,” the man continued, his voice practically echoing through the woods. “Come back to the church with us now, or I’m to tell the marshal your dirty little secret.”

Damn, the guy wasn’t giving up.

Dallas immediately dismissed what the man said. But Joelle didn’t. She sucked in her breath hard, and her eyes widened. She shook her head.

And Dallas’s stomach knotted.

Obviously, there was something to the dirty little secret threat. Part of him really wanted to know what had caused the color to drain from Joelle’s already too-pale face. But the other part of him didn’t want the guy to be able to use whatever he was trying to use to get her to cooperate.

“Let’s go,” Dallas insisted.

Joelle didn’t argue. She practically leaped up from the ground, and even though she was still shaky, she ran as if her life depended on it. She didn’t stop at the tree cluster, either. She kept moving and used the trees to help her stay on her feet.

“Running won’t help,” the man yelled. “One way or another, the marshal will find out what you did.”

Joelle looked over at him, the tears shimmering in her eyes. “Don’t ask,
please,
” she said when Dallas opened his mouth.

Oh, hell.

This couldn’t be good, but it was the worst possible time to push for information.

“The marshal will find out your secret,” the man shouted. It was harder to hear his voice now, but Dallas seemed to have no trouble making out every word. “And if you think he’ll protect you after he finds out what you did, you’re wrong, Joelle.
Dead wrong.
”