Terri Reed - Undercover Marriage

“Hey, you okay in here?”

Serena glanced up at her current partner, U.S. marshal Josh McCall. They’d been paired to work the illegal adoption case. His six-foot-three frame filled the doorway. He’d taken off his navy suit jacket and rolled the sleeves of his once crisp white dress shirt up to the elbows. His silver silk tie was askew, and his brown hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it again, the ends standing up, making him appear as if he’d just rolled out of bed rather than put in a ninety-hour week. His soft brown eyes, shadowed by signs of fatigue and grief, tugged at her heart. She’d always found him appealing. But that was before. Now she refused to allow her reaction to show. Not only did she not want to draw attention to the fact that she’d noticed anything about him, she didn’t want him to think she cared.

She didn’t. Josh was the reason her brother had been alone when he’d been murdered. Instead of having his partner’s back, Josh had been out on a personal day at the time Daniel needed him, leaving Daniel on his own to chase a lead, where he was struck on the head and left to die. Alone.

A traitorous thought niggled: Daniel shouldn’t have gone off by himself. Doing so went against protocol and logic. If he hadn’t, he would still be alive. She pushed back her musings. Her brother must have had a good reason. But nothing absolved Josh of the responsibility he had to protect Daniel. They’d been best friends as well as coworkers.

Her fists bunched up the bedding. Her soul cried out with “Why, Lord?” as it always did anytime she allowed her mind to go down that road.

Turning away from Josh, she said briskly, “I’m good.”

Taking the two ends of the sheet in each hand, she spread her arms wide and attempted to fold the sheet in half. The material didn’t want to cooperate.

“Here,” Josh said, stepping all the way into the room. “Let me help.”

He reached for the sheet, his hand brushing hers.

An electric current shot through her. She jerked away, letting go of the ends as if she’d been burned. The sheet fluttered to the floor between them. “I don’t need your help.”

His hand dropped to his side. “Serena.” Josh’s tone held a note of hurt.

Inhaling sharply, Serena berated herself for not being professional. She’d allowed her personal grief and bitterness to show. She stiffened her spine, raised her chin and let out a long breath.

Keeping her voice neutral, she asked, “How’s the kitchen coming along?”

Resignation shuttered his expression. “Almost done.”

“Good. I finished the kids’ bathroom and the daughter’s room. Those boxes are ready for transport.”

“We’ll be out of here in time to make our scheduled flight,” Josh stated, his tone flat. “It’ll be good to return to St. Louis and get some rest.”

Serena’s mouth pressed tight. Rest was something she’d had little of the past year and a half, ever since her brother’s unsolved murder. Not to mention the trips to various locations around the country as she and Josh worked to track down leads on the illegal baby-smuggling scheme. Each lead only brought more confusion and chaos. They badly needed a break in the case.

Glass shattered.

Serena’s heart hammered against her ribs.

The sound came from somewhere in the house.

Josh raised a finger to his lips, indicating silence.

She nodded and withdrew her weapon from the holster at her hip. Moving in tandem, they slowly made their way down the hall toward the main part of the house. At the T in the hallway, Josh gestured with two fingers for her to go right, while he’d go left.

Dipping her chin in acknowledgment, she peeled off to enter the empty kitchen. Her pulse beat a frantic tempo.

Hushed male voices came from the next room. At least two.

The muscles in her shoulders tightened. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. The nitty-gritty aspect of taking down the bad guys was a necessary part of the job. A part she had no qualms about performing. As a woman in a field historically dominated by men, she’d worked hard to prove herself. Just as other women in the service had done as far back as the late 1800s, when Ada Carnutt first put on the badge. Serena admired her predecessors as well as the current female director of the U.S. Marshals Service, who’d been appointed by the president. Serena would do them proud.

Skirting around stacked boxes, she made her way to the dining room just as Josh entered from the living room.

Two men stood inside the dining room and another was balanced half in, half out of the broken window on the side of the house. All three men, dressed in black, were big guys in their late twenties.

Josh yelled, “Stop! U.S. Marshals!”

The guy half inside the window dropped back outside and disappeared. One of the remaining thugs reached behind his back to whip out a .357 and aimed the pistol at Josh.

Fear burst within Serena. “Gun!”

Josh ducked behind a stack of boxes as the guy holding the gun fired in his direction. A bullet tore through the cardboard box, nearly taking out Josh’s eye, and smashed into the wall. She dove behind the love seat.

Knowing the boxes wouldn’t provide enough cover for Josh, Serena had to do something. She popped up, aimed at the intruder with the gun and squeezed off a round. The rapid beat of her heart thundered in her ears, drowning out the retort of the weapon in her hand. The bullet slammed into the guy’s leg. He screamed and crumpled to the floor. His buddy jumped through the broken window and escaped.

Serena leaped to her feet and raced around the love seat, keeping her weapon trained on the man writhing on the floor, clutching his leg. She kicked aside the gun he’d dropped.

“You okay?” Josh asked as he skidded to a halt beside her.

She nodded, her gaze searching him for injury.

“Good.” He rushed toward the window. “Watch him. I’m going after the other two.”

Chest knotting, Serena watched Josh disappear through the window.

“Keep him safe, Lord,” she whispered and hoped God would listen. She blamed Josh for her brother’s death, but she didn’t want to have to live through another loss. She’d known Josh a long time. He and Daniel had been friends since basic training at the academy in Glynco, Georgia, over eight years ago.

She dug her cell phone out of the pocket of her suit jacket and called the Houston district office and the police department for backup. While she waited, she cuffed the guy’s hands in front of him and then grabbed a towel from a box to press against the bullet wound.

The man moaned. “You shot me.”

She refrained from pointing out he’d shot first. “Who sent you?”

“I don’t know,” the guy ground out. “I need a doctor!”

“What were you doing here?” Serena asked.

“Trying to find out where they went.”

Serena didn’t need to ask who; she knew he meant Dylan and his family. “What were you supposed to do with the information?”

“I don’t know. Bob set this up. He’d know.”

“Bob who? What’s Bob’s last name?”

The guy clamped his mouth shut.

“Come on, give me the name. It will go better for you if you do,” Serena coaxed.

“I want a lawyer.” A spasm of pain marched across his face. “I’m not saying anything more.”

Serena blew out a frustrated breath.

The wail of a siren announced the arrival of the Houston police force. Josh reentered the house through the front door, leading paramedics and two police officers inside.

Serena relinquished her hold on the rag to the paramedics and joined Josh off to the side so the local LEOs—law enforcement officers—could take over.

“Mr. Bad Shot said they were looking to find out where Dylan and the family went,” she told Josh. “Said one of his buddies named Bob set up the deal.”