AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The light disappeared, drawing Dania’s attention. Olivia had passed out.
Knowing this woman could very well die if she didn’t get help, Dania left her patient and belly-crawled over the gravel and pavement until she grasped the cell phone and quickly retreated back to Olivia. She dialed 911.
Almost immediately a voice said, “What’s your emergency?”
Those had been the exact words Dania had heard when she’d called for help with Matthew. She blinked and saw her husband lying dead on the floor of their home. Her heart quickened. Tears threatened.
“Is anyone there?”
Gathering her wits, Dania said, “Two marshals have been shot. One is dead and another is barely hanging on. We’re on highway 86 a few miles north of Bozeman.” She set down the phone and kept pressure on the wound.
It seemed forever before she heard sirens heading their way. She double-checked the bandage. Blood seeped through the gauze, but there was no time to add more. As much as she wanted to stay and help, she willed herself to her feet and took off running.
For three long years, she’d prayed for a pathway to open so she could find Matthew’s killer. This was the chance she’d prayed for, and she wasn’t going to let it slip away.
Chapter Three
A piercing light shone throughthe bedroom window, waking Deputy Marshal Brett Rollins from a deep sleep.
He glanced at the red digital numbers of his alarm clock: 1:30 a.m.
The whoop-whoop of a helicopter hovering overhead brought him straight out of bed. He tripped over Jasper, his golden retriever, as he searched for his pants. Finding them, Brett jerked them on and stumbled from his bedroom, making his way to the back entrance’s sliding glass door. He peered out in time to see the chopper—with the white lettering of U.S. Marshals on the underbelly—land in the meadow behind his place. His boss leaped from the bird and raced toward the cabin, holding his Stetson on his head. The pilot stayed with the chopper.
As Brett flipped on the deck lights, he looked down at Jasper. “This can’t be good.” In an effort to put off the inevitable bad news, he said to his dog, “Or did you invite him to go fishing with us?”
The old retriever wagged his tail and nuzzled his master’s hand with his wet nose. Brett gave his dog a pat. Whatever the reason for Chief Deputy Marshal Gabriel Jefferson’s middle-of-the-night visit, Brett would soon find out.
He slid open the glass door to welcome their unexpected guest.
“Having a good time?” Gabe asked as he entered the house. “Weren’t sleeping, were you?”
“Oh, no. I’m often awake in the middle of the night when I’m on vacation.” Brett guided his boss to the kitchen and motioned for him to have a seat. “You don’t fly the chopper to the top of Mount Rainy just to see if the fish are biting. What’s up? And let me remind you once again, I’m on vacation—a vacation you ordered me to take.”
“Yeah, I know. And I’m sorry.” Gabe stared at him with a pain-filled expression, then he rubbed his chin. “It’s Olivia.”
Brett hadn’t expected that. “What about Olivia?”
“Got a call from the Stone Quarry Prison that’s being closed. Seems the state’s van used to transport prisoners broke down. They only had two more prisoners left, so I sent Olivia and Ted to take them to Deer Lodge. Something went wrong. The state troopers at the scene found Ted dead and Olivia gut shot. The officers believe they were ambushed. The paramedics had Olivia life-flighted to Bear Claw Hospital. She’s in critical condition.”
Ted was a rookie whom Brett hadn’t worked with much. Grief filled Brett for the death of a fellow officer and the wife left behind with three little kids.
And Olivia... The image of his coworker sitting at her desk across from his flashed through his mind. She’d been a marshal going on eight years. Thin, with long blonde hair and an intense stare that told perps she didn’t take guff from anyone.
She’d been with Brett when he’d arrested One-Eye Jerry, who had broken parole in LA and fled to Montana, thinking he could hide in the mountains. Brett and Olivia had tracked him to a line-shack in the Crazy Mountain Range. While Brett had pounded on the front door, Olivia had gone to the back and caught One-Eye crawling out the window.
And she’d been with Brett when he’d arrested an escaped con who had beaten his wife nearly to death. Finding the brutal scene had awakened the memory of the night Brett’s mother had been killed by Randy, his abusive father. The scars from that horrific event had torn at his heart. He’d had no empathy for the stupid escaped con and would have beaten him senseless, but Olivia had stopped him.
Most importantly, she’d stood by his side when he’d had to lay to rest his beloved grandmother, who had raised him since he was nine. Going through that grief was bearable only because of Olivia. She was like a little sister to him. He had to find whoever had done this.
Gabe shifted his stance. “This all happened almost an hour ago. We’ve got to get going.”
Brett stormed toward his bedroom. “Who’s in charge of the scene?”
Gabe followed. “I sent Masterson. He took Char and BB with him. But you know how he sometimes steps away from taking command when it comes to working with other law enforcement agencies. You’re the only one I know who can take charge of a situation while at the same time keeping other needed officers outside of our department on the job.”
Brett pulled on socks and shoved his feet into his cowboy boots. He grabbed a gray flannel shirt from the closet and started buttoning it. “Who were Olivia and Ted transporting?”
“Big Bertha and”—he paused, biting his lips together, then said—“Dania Black.”
