Even with him dead, he still haunted her.

  She shook off the memories and focused on the moment. The crisp, clean air. The nature all around her. She’d had her reservations at first, but this place was cleansing for her soul. She had seen so much cruelty and ugliness. This was the perfect sanctuary for healing.

  And, of course, hiding.

  Only a few more days until the trial of the century. She was the star witness—the first and only witness who had survived to testify against Harrison Armone Senior. The man had built an empire in the southeast, and Atlanta was his headquarters. The Armone family had run organized crime for three generations, four if you counted her husband, since he would have been next in line to head the family.

  But he no longer counted because he was dead.

  Murdered by his own father.

  She had witnessed Mr. Armone putting the gun to the back of Harrison’s head and pulling the trigger. Then he’d turned to her and announced that she now belonged to him, as did all else his son had hoarded to himself. He would give her adequate grieving time, and then he would expect things from her.

  Within twenty-four hours the family’s private physician had provided a death certificate and another family friend with a funeral home had taken care of the rest. No cops were involved, no investigation and certainly no autopsy. Cause of death was listed as a heart attack. The obituary was pompous and filled half a page.

  It wasn’t until three days after the funeral that Alice had her first opportunity to attempt an escape.

  She had prepared well. For months before Harrison’s death she had been readying for an opportunity to flee. She had hidden away a considerable amount of cash and numerous prepaid cards that could not be traced back to her. She’d even purchased a phone—one for which minutes could be purchased at the supermarket. When the day came, she left the house with nothing more than the clothes on her back. The money and cards were tucked into her jacket. The entire jacket was basically padded with cash and plastic beneath the layer of fabric that served as the lining. She’d worn her favorite running shoes and workout clothes.

  Days before, at the gym, she had stashed jeans, a sweatshirt, a ball cap, big sunglasses and a clasp for pinning her long blond hair out of sight beneath the cap.

  That day, she’d left the gym through a rear exit and jogged the nearly three miles to the Four Seasons, where she’d taken a taxi to the bus station. She’d loaded onto the bus headed to Birmingham, Alabama. In Birmingham, she had boarded another bus to Nashville, Tennessee, and finally from Nashville to Louisville, Kentucky. Each time she changed something about her appearance. She picked up another jacket or traded with another traveler. Changed the hat and the way she wore her hair. Eventually she reached her destination. Scared to death but with no other recourse, she walked into the FBI office and told whoever would listen her story.

  Now she was here.

  The small clearing where her temporary home—a rustic cabin—stood came into view. The setting sun spilled the last of its glow across the mountain.

  In the middle of nowhere on a mountain, she was awaiting the moment when she would tell the world what kind of monster Harrison Armone Senior was. His son had been equally evil, but no one deserved to be murdered, particularly by his own father.

  Those last three and a half years of their marriage when he’d recognized that she knew what he was, his decision to permit her to see and hear things had somehow been calculated. She supposed he had hoped to keep her scared into submission. She had been scared. Scared to death. But she had planned her escape when no one was looking.

  The FBI had been thrilled with what she had to offer. But they had also recognized that keeping her alive until and through the trial wouldn’t be easy. She had been moved once already. The security of the first location where she’d been hidden away had been breached after only three months. She’d had no idea anything was going on when two marshals had shown up to take her away.

  So far things had gone smoothly in Winchester. She kept to herself. Ordered her food online and the marshal assigned to her picked up the goods and delivered the load to her. Though she had a small SUV for emergencies, she did not leave the property and put herself in a position where someone might see and remember her.

  Anything she needed, the marshal took care of.

  The SUV parked next to the house was equipped with all-wheel drive, since she lived out in the woods on a curvy mountain road. US Marshal Branch Holloway checked on her regularly. She had a special phone for emergencies and for contacting him. He’d made her feel at ease from the beginning. He was patient and kind. Far more understanding than the first one.

  For this she was immensely grateful.

  Yes. She had married an evil man. Yes. She had been a fool. But she hadn’t set out to do so. She had been taught to believe the best in everyone until she had reason to see otherwise.

  Well over a year. Yes. It had taken a long time to see past the seemingly perfect facade he had built for her, but she was only human. She had loved him. She had waited a very long time to feel that way again after her first heartbreak.

  “Get over it,” she muttered to herself. Beating herself up for being naive wasn’t going to change history.

  This, she surveyed the bare trees and little cabin, was her life now.

  Witness protection was made to look like a glamorous adventure in the movies, but that could not be further from the truth. It was terrifying. Justice depended on her survival to testify in court. The FBI had shown her how much bigger this case was than just the murder of her husband and the small amount of knowledge she had absorbed. The Armones had murdered countless people. Drugs, guns and all sorts of other criminal activities were a part of their network. She alone held the power to end the Armone reign.

  No matter that the family was so obviously evil, she still couldn’t understand how a father could murder his son—his only child. Of course, it was Harrison’s own fault. He had been secretly working to overthrow his father. The old man was nearing seventy and had no plans to retire. Harrison had wanted to be king.

  Instead, he’d gotten dead.

  Alice shuddered at the idea that his father—after murdering him—had intended to take his widow as his own plaything.

  Sick. The man was absolutely disgusting. Like his son, he was a charming, quite handsome man for his age. But beneath the skin lived a monster.

  Once the trial was over, she hoped she never had to see him again.

  Staying alert to her surroundings, she unlocked the back door and sent Bob inside ahead of her. He was trained to spot trouble. She wasn’t overly concerned at the point. If anything had been amiss, he would have warned her as they approached the cabin.

  Dogs were a new addition to the witness protection family. She hadn’t had a dog at the first location. It wasn’t until she’d arrived here and had Bob living with her that she’d realized how very lonely she had been for a very long time. Well before her husband was murdered.

  She locked the door behind her. Taking care to check all the locks. Then she followed Bob through the three rooms. There was a small living-dining-kitchen combination, a bedroom with attached bath and the mudroom-laundry-room at the back door. Furnishings were sparse, but she had what she needed.

  Since cell service was sketchy at best, she had a state-of-the-art signal booster. She had a generator in case the power went out and a bug-out bag if it became necessary to cut and run.

  She shivered. The fire had gone out. She kept on her jacket while she added logs to the fireplace and kindling to get it started. Within a couple of minutes, the fire was going. She’d had a fireplace as a kid, so relearning her way around this one hadn’t been so bad. She went back to the kitchen and turned on the kettle for tea.

  Bob growled low in his throat and stared toward the front door.

  She froze. Her phone was in her hip pocket. Her gun was still in her waistband at the small of her back. This was something else Marshal Holloway had insisted upon. He’d taught her how to use a handgun. They held many target practices right behind this cabin.

  A creak beyond the front door warned that someone was on the porch. She eased across the room and went to the special peephole that had been installed. There was one on each side of the cabin, allowing for views all the way around. A man stood on the porch. He was the typical local cowboy. Jeans and boots. Hat in his hands. Big truck in the drive. Just like Marshal Holloway.

  But she did not know this man.

  “Alice Stewart, if you’re in there, it’s okay for you to open the door. I’m Sheriff Colt Tanner. Branch sent me.”

  Her heart thudding, she held perfectly still. Branch would never send someone to her without letting her know first. If for some reason he couldn’t tell her in advance, they had a protocol for the situation.

  She reached back, fingers curled about the butt of her weapon. Bob moved stealthily toward the door.

  “I know you’re concerned about opening the door to a stranger, but you need to trust me. Branch has been in an accident and he’s in the hospital undergoing surgery right now. No matter that his injuries were serious, he refused to go into surgery until he spoke to me and I assured him I would see after you, ma’am.”

  Worry joined the mixture of fear and dread churning inside her. She hoped Branch wasn’t hurt too badly. He had a wife and a daughter.

  She opened her mouth to ask about his condition, but then she snapped it shut. The man at her door had not said the code word.

  “Wait,” he said. “I know what the problem is. I forgot to say superhero. He told me that’s your code word.”

  Relief rushed through her. She moved to the door and unlocked the four dead bolts, then opened it. When she faced the man—Sheriff Tanner—she asked, “Is he going to be okay?”

  The sheriff ducked his head. “I sure hope so. Branch is a good friend of mine. May I come in?”

  “Quiet, Bob,” she ordered the dog at her side as she backed up and allowed the sheriff to come inside before closing the door. She resisted the impulse to lock it and leaned against it instead. Holloway wouldn’t have trusted this man if he wasn’t one of the good guys.

  Still, standing here with a stranger after all these months, she couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy. Bob sat at her feet, his gaze tracking every move the stranger made.

  “Is there anything you need, ma’am? Anything at all. I’ll be happy to bring you any supplies or just...” He shrugged. “Whatever you need.”

  The kettle screamed out, making her jump. She’d completely forgotten about it. “I’ll be right back.”

  She hurried to the kitchen and turned off the flame beneath the whistling kettle. She took a breath, pushed her hair behind her ears and walked back to where he waited.

  “Thank you for coming, Sheriff, but I have everything I need.”

  “All right.” He pulled a card from his shirt pocket and offered it to her. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll check on you again later this evening and give you an update on Branch’s condition.”

  She studied the card. “Thank you.” She looked up at him then. “I appreciate your concern. Please let the marshal know I’m hoping for his speedy recovery.”

  “Will do.” He gave her another of those quick nods. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

  Before she opened the door for him to go, she had to ask, “Are his injuries life-threatening?”

  “He was real lucky, ma’am. Things could have been far worse. Thankfully, he’s stable and we have every reason to believe he’ll be fine.”

  “What about his wife?”

  “She wasn’t with him, so she’s fine. She’s at the hospital waiting for him to come out of surgery. If you’re certain you don’t need me for anything, I’m going back there now.”

  “Really, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  When the sheriff had said his goodbye and strode out to his truck, she locked the door—all four dead bolts. She watched as the truck turned around and rolled away. She told herself that Marshal Holloway’s accident most likely didn’t have anything to do with her or the trial. Still, she couldn’t help but worry just a little.

  What if they had found her? What if hurting the marshal was just the first step in getting to her. Old Man Armone was pure evil. He would want her to know in advance that he was coming, just to be sure she felt as much fear as possible. Instilling fear gave him great pleasure.

  Harrison Armone Senior had a small army at his beck and call. All were trained mercenaries. Ruthless, like him. Proficient in killing. Relentless in attaining their target. They would be hunting her. If being careful would get her through this, she had nothing to worry about. But that alone would never be enough. She needed help and luck on her side.

  With this unexpected development, she would need to be extra vigilant.

  “Bob.”

  He looked up at her eagerly.

  “We have to be especially alert, my friend.”

  The devil might be coming.

  And he wouldn’t be alone.

  Two

  Winchester Hospital

  Jaxson Stevens left Nashville as soon as he heard the news of the accident. He and Branch Holloway had been assigned together briefly before Holloway transferred back to his hometown of Winchester. Holloway was a good guy and a damned fine marshal. Jax was more than happy to back him up until he was on his feet again.

  He parked his SUV in the lot and headed for the hospital entrance. He hadn’t been in the Winchester area in ages. He hailed from the Pacific Northwest and he’d taken an assignment in Seattle when he completed training with the marshals service. He had ended up spending the first decade of his career on that side of the country. Then he’d needed a change. He’d landed in Nashville last year.

  Truth was, he hadn’t exactly wanted to spend any time in the southeast, but it was a necessary step in his career ladder. There was a woman he’d met when he was in training at Glynco. The two of them had had a few very intense months together and he’d wondered about her. He’d kept an eye on her for years. Certain that they would end up together again at some point. They’d both been so young when they first met. He’d checked in how she was doing in college. Had anonymously helped out when her father passed away.

  Then his notions of a reunion came to a grinding halt in Atlanta.

  She’d gotten married. He shook his head. All those years she had haunted his dreams so many times. He’d thought he had known her, thought they had something. He’d definitely never felt that connection with anyone else.

  But he had been wrong. Dead wrong.

  A woman who would marry a man like that was not someone he knew at all. He imagined she well knew what the world thought of her choice about now.

  Irrelevant, he reminded himself. The past was the past. Nothing he could do about the years he wasted wondering about her. He was happy in Nashville for now. He had just turned thirty-two and he had big career plans. There was plenty of time to get serious about a personal relationship. God knew his parents and his sister constantly nagged him about his single status.

  Maybe after this case was buttoned up. The witness had to be at trial on Thursday. After that, he was taking a vacation and making some personal decisions. Maybe it was time he took inventory of his life rather than just pouring everything into the job.

  The hospital had that disinfectant smell that lingered in every single one he’d ever stepped into. The odor triggered unpleasant memories he’d just as soon not revisit in this lifetime. Losing his younger brother had been hard as a ten-year-old. He couldn’t imagine what his parents had suffered.

  His mom warned him often that he shouldn’t allow that loss to get in the way of having a family. He had never really considered that he chose not to get too serious about a relationship because of what happened when he was a kid, but maybe it had. His parents had spent two decades telling him that what happened wasn’t his fault. Didn’t matter. He would always believe it was. He should have been watching more closely. He should never have allowed his little brother so close to the water’s edge.

  He should have been better prepared to help him if something went wrong.

  Damn. Why the hell had he gone down that road?

  Jax shook his head and strode across the lobby, kicking the past back to where it belonged—behind him. A quick check with the information desk and he was on his way to the third floor. He followed the signs to Holloway’s room.

  His gaze came to rest on his old friend and he grimaced. The left side of the man’s face was bruised and swollen as if he’d slugged it out and lost big-time. What he could see of Holloway’s left shoulder was bruised, as well. “You look like hell, buddy.”

  Branch Holloway opened his eyes. “Pretty much feel like it, too. Glad you could make it, Stevens.”

  Jax moved to the side of his bed. “What happened? You tick off the wrong cowboy?”

  Tennessee was full of cowboys. Jax had tried a pair of boots. Not for him. And the hat, well, that just wasn’t his style. He was more of a city kind of guy. Jeans, pullovers and a good pair of hiking shoes and he was good to go. He was, however, rather fond of leather. He’d had the leather jacket he wore for over a decade.

  “I wish I could tell you a heroic story of chasing bad guys and surviving a shoot-out, but it was nothing like that. A deer decided my truck was in his way. I didn’t hit him, but I did hit the ditch and then a couple of trees. One tree in particular tried real hard to do me in.”

  Jax made a face. “Sounds like you’re damned lucky.”

  “That’s what they say, but I gotta tell you right now I’m not feeling too lucky. My wife says I will when I see my truck. It’s totaled.”

  “Can I get you anything?” Jax glanced at the water pitcher on the bedside table.