Lisa Phillips - Dead End

The woman took the name and phone number of the person Nina had been in contact with in Baltimore—where the murder and trial had taken place. But she didn’t pick up the phone. She moved her fingers over the keyboard. The clicking of keys took on a rapid pace, and soon Sondra sat back.

“This person, whoever it is, doesn’t show up in my system as working for that particular courthouse.” She pointed to the paper. “And that phone number is for the Baltimore public library.”

Nina flinched. “What? How is that possible? I called the federal courthouse. I was transferred to that person. He knew about my mother’s case. He said he remembered it from the news reports, since the husband killed his congresswoman-wife.” Nina swallowed against the bad taste of those words. Her father had been innocent. “He said he would process my request.”

“I must be too young to remember it.” Sondra’s eyes narrowed. “That is what the computer says. I’m sorry I can’t help you more.” She glanced over Nina’s shoulder and raised her voice. “I can help the next in line!”

Nina staggered back. What was going on? She’d thought for sure today would be the day she would finally see the file.

The public library. How could she have been given that number by mistake? None of this made any sense. The process should have been...not easy, but at least possible. She might have worked for the CIA, but it wasn’t as though she could just call up one of her old coworkers and ask them for information on a domestic murder that happened years ago.

Nina stumbled down the hall, the injury in her left hand aching beneath the brace she wore to cover the scars. She didn’t need the questions, usually innocent enough, but she had no interest in being reminded how she’d gotten the nasty cut. She had more important things to worry about. Her teaching job at the local college would start with the fall semester in a few weeks. Until then the clock was ticking.

It was time to find the killer and put the past to rest once and for all.

She’d walked from the apartment she rented close to the federal courthouse. She lived downtown simply so she didn’t burn extra money on a car, insurance payments and gas. The college where she had been hired to teach economics was nearby. A new chapter for her new life.

But so far she was getting nowhere.

Nina blew out a breath and pushed open the heavy door. The Oregon fall weather was breezy with a pleasant temperature, much different from the biting East Coast air she was used to. Nina hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and tried to push down the frustration while she figured out a new plan of attack. Regroup. That was all she had to do, and the CIA had taught her how. She just needed to come at this from a different angle.

The concrete steps were smooth under her canvas flats. Traffic whizzed past, and two men in bulletproof vests walked a man in an orange jumpsuit up toward her. She stepped aside, too preoccupied to really look at them. They were just doing their jobs. It wasn’t their fault she was having a bad day.

But they slowed.

Whether she knew them because Sienna was now married to a marshal or not, Nina didn’t want to make small talk. She trotted down the steps onto the sidewalk and turned in the direction of home. Two steps after she had set off, someone yelled her name.

Wyatt? She turned back to tell him she couldn’t talk, or wasn’t in the mood for it, or some variation of that.

A silver car jumped the curb as it barreled toward her.

Nina didn’t have time to scream. She jumped aside and prayed she wouldn’t die before she found her mother’s real killer, a man who had been having an affair with her mother. A man who called himself Mr. Thomas and who’d told her stories of spies, pirates and fair maidens.

A man no one had ever believed existed when she’d told them he killed her mother.

Nina hit the ground and rolled.

* * *

Deputy US Marshal Wyatt Ames ensured his partner had hold of the prisoner and sprinted down the steps. The silver car raced away, but he ran to Nina with his gun ready. It was a reflex to draw his weapon, but he wasn’t going to shoot at a car fleeing the scene. Too easy to hit an innocent person on a busy downtown street.

Behind him Parker called in the make and model, no plates. Request for EMTs, possible injuries.

“Nina.” He crouched beside her and holstered his weapon. “Nina, are you okay?”

She groaned. “No.” She sounded mad, which almost made Wyatt smile.

He helped her roll over, which made her groan again. The road rash on her right arm and her temple made him wince.

She eyed him. “That bad, huh?”

He didn’t return her smile—there was too much fear in her blue eyes. He did lift her left hand so he could survey the scar from the injury she’d had the day he’d met her. She had a wrist brace on, and he couldn’t see the injury on her fingers. Was it under the brace material? That would mean the injury was down by her thumb. Why hadn’t he known that?

Wyatt had been there the day they rescued her from the house where she’d been held, months ago now. Caught up in Sienna’s amnesia, and the hunt for a flash drive of sensitive information Sienna had hidden before she lost her memory, Nina had been kidnapped in order to draw Sienna out. The man who had held her was dead now, but Nina had been injured.

When they’d found her, Nina’s left hand had been bandaged, the wrappings soaked in blood. Yet she’d still been strong enough to push through and help Wyatt’s partner—Parker—find Sienna, who was now his wife. That danger had passed, and Parker and Sienna were finally free to be happy.

Wyatt had been impressed by Nina that day, and it hadn’t let up since. Clearly her inner character was as beautiful as she was on the outside, even with the haircut she had gotten recently. He’d never been a fan of short hair on women, but the choppy blond strands made her eyes stand out all the more and he had to admit it was cute.

Wyatt’s phone started to ring, but he ignored it. “Don’t get up, okay?” Her left hand seemed to have gone through this unscathed, the road rash on her right arm likely from trying to protect the injury beneath the brace. “EMTs will be here in a minute and we’ll get you looked at.”

Nina sighed and straightened her legs on the sidewalk in front of her. Wasn’t she glad help was coming?

“Ames!”

Wyatt turned back to his partner.

Parker motioned over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m going to check our friend here into his permanent staycation and I’ll be back out.”

Wyatt nodded and turned back to Nina, still in his crouch. “That was crazy. I can’t believe that car jumped the curb and came right at you. Seriously. It was nuts.”

Nina’s lips curled up, though he could see the pain on her face. “You’re babbling.”

“Your life just flashed before my eyes.”

Nina laughed. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hug her until his heart rate settled down, and she was laughing? “This isn’t funny, Nina.”

She shook her head. “No, it really isn’t. You’re right. But to be honest, it’s just been one of those days. This is pretty much the perfect end.”

“It’s not even lunchtime.”

“I’m still ready to go home and crawl back into bed. Maybe tomorrow will go better, because today does not seem to be my day.”

The ambulance pulled up, a police car parking right behind it. He knew the sergeant who climbed out. Sergeant Zane sauntered over, apparently relaxed, having decided the emergency had passed and Wyatt had whatever this was covered.

The law enforcement community in their town was pretty tight-knit. Zane probably knew Nina through her connection to Sienna and Parker. Being retired CIA agents in this town was enough to make them famous.