Chapter 7 #2
When her breathing finally evened out, she pulled back and wiped her cheeks. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His voice was quiet. He moved closer until only a fraction of an inch separated them and she could smell the peppermint he’d eaten earlier. Was he going to kiss her? Instead, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve had a couple of brutal days.”
The closeness lingered and the kitchen shrank. She was too aware of him, his presence. The air was charged with an underlying current—until his phone rang, breaking the mood.
She stepped back first. “You should get that.”
“Yeah.” He glanced at the screen. “Liam?”
Aubrey got two mugs down from the cupboard.
“What about the plane? And the sniper?” Ethan asked.
She glanced back to see all the color had drained from his face.
Ethan shook his head. “Okay. Got it. Drive my truck over to the safe house, please. I’ll have someone drop off your car later. Thanks.”
Ethan ended the call and stood there for a moment, his phone still in his hand. Aubrey watched the shift happen, how his posture changed, how the easy reassurance drained away and resolve took its place.
“What is it?” She held a mug between her hands.
“Liam’s on his way,” Ethan said. “I need to go back to the office.”
Her disappointment flickered, but she pushed it aside. “Okay. What aren’t you saying?”
He hesitated, then leaned back against the counter. “We don’t have confirmation yet. No ID on the shooter. No arrest.”
“But?” she pressed.
“The plane crash wasn’t random,” he said.
“Someone transported a prisoner to Renegade under false credentials, marking it with a code we use for high-risk transports—they don’t land on the usual records.
They used a decommissioned Marshals plane and pulled off a prison break in South Carolina.
Whoever planned this went to a lot of trouble. ”
Her pulse picked up. “A prisoner brought here?”
“Yes.”
“And you think that’s connected to today?”
“I do.” He met her gaze fully now. “Which means we have to consider motive. Not just opportunity but intent.”
The words settled heavy in her chest.
“You think this was aimed at someone specific,” she said slowly.
“I think it’s possible,” he replied. “And if that’s the case, then we have to be honest about who might be in the crosshairs.”
Her instincts sharpened. “Me,” she whispered.
If Donovan was out of prison…She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing back the memories. The last glimpse she’d had of her older sister’s face before they ran and she never saw Kayla again.
Ethan didn’t say it right away. That alone told her enough.
“Finn Donovan is loose,” he said finally. “Someone transferred him out of the federal facility in South Carolina and brought him to Renegade.”
The name hit like a sudden drop in altitude—not shock, not panic, but a cold, familiar gravity.
“He hasn’t made contact,” Ethan continued.
“We don’t know that he was involved today, but we don’t know he wasn’t.
We don’t know who’s behind this attack or why they would go to so much trouble to bring him here.
But if he is in Renegade and has been for several days, we have to assume his plan involves revenge. ”
Her throat tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “Against me.”
“Yes.” His tone softened, just slightly. “Which is why I need you to be careful. Watch your routines. Don’t go anywhere alone. And don’t assume today was an accident, but we can’t assume it was him either. Not until we’re sure.”
She nodded, absorbing the distinction. This wasn’t certainty. It was preparation.
“So Renegade Days…” she began.
“May have been an attempted murder,” Ethan said. “Or a diversion. Or it may have had nothing to do with him at all.” He held her gaze. “We won’t know for sure until we have more information.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“That should be Liam, but stay here while I check,” Ethan said. “He’s going to stay with you while I get eyes on this.”
She straightened. “I’ll be fine.”
“I know.” His voice was firm, but his eyes lingered. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not worried.”
She gave a small nod, accepting that much.
As Ethan moved toward the door, Aubrey stayed where she was, steadying herself, not with denial but with resolve.
Because if Finn Donovan was back in play, then she couldn’t afford to cower in fear.
She needed to stay ahead of him.
The men shook hands, and then Ethan looked at her over Liam’s shoulder, his eyes conveying the depth of his feelings that he couldn’t voice.
She waved, and he simply nodded his head, spun on his heel, and walked out of the house.
She prayed for his safety and that he would come back to her.
Ethan gripped the steering wheel as he navigated the streets of Renegade. Gone were the enthusiastic crowds from earlier in the day, replaced by debris and empty venues.
He knew better than to allow his emotions to override common sense. His ex, Melissa, used to say he was emotionally stunted. That didn’t seem to be the problem with Aubrey at all.
Aubrey wasn’t Melissa, and what he was feeling for Aubrey was definitely stronger than anything he’d felt in the past. Still, it was hard to quit allowing the wounds of the past to color what was developing between them.
He removed his Stetson and tossed it on the passenger seat. A stray balloon floated across the street. He rolled down the window and rested his arm on the edge. This cowboy getup was hot and sweaty, and he couldn’t wait to return the costume to Jenna.
The caller ID lit up with Mrs. Hanover’s smiling face. “Hey, Mrs. Hanover. What can I do for you?”
“I’m so glad I caught you, dear. I heard about the shooting today during Renegade Days. Simply awful. How are you? Are you safe?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh good. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m checking on my babies.”
Ethan turned down Main, on the west side of downtown. “They’re fine. I fed them this morning.”
But was he fine? He glanced down at his shaking hands. Flashbacks from a couple of years ago steamrolled through his mind. He had to temper his emotions and focus on the task at hand.
“I know you’re busy, but I wanted to assure you that I’m praying for you.”
“I appreciate that.” His phone buzzed with another incoming call. “Mrs. Hanover? I’m sorry to cut you off, but I have to take this call.”
“Certainly, dear. I’m going to send you a picture of my great-granddaughter. I was planning to be home tomorrow, but with what happened there today, I’m not sure.”
“That’s probably not a bad idea. Stay as long as you like, and don’t worry about the cats.” He checked his rearview mirror and changed lanes. “You take care now.”
“I will.” He heard the uncertainty in her voice, but it was best if she delayed her return. He ended the call and clicked over to the next call. “Butler.”
“It’s Adam. Everything good with you and Aubrey?”
“She’s safe, and Liam is looking out for her. I’m on my way to the office.” He turned on his blinker to make a right in front of the courthouse. Almost there.
“The rest of the team is coming in as well.”
“Good.” Ethan waited while several pedestrians ran across the street, fearful looks of distrust on their faces.
“Tell Stanton to find everything he can on Finn Donovan. Convicted criminal, the case was years ago. Find out how long he was given in prison, what the charges were, any known associates. We need the whole case file.” In the past, his gut instincts had failed him.
This time, he was going in prayed up, seeking God’s wisdom.
“Copy that. He involved?”
“Unconfirmed. Could be unrelated. See you in a few.” Ethan disconnected the call and parked behind the imposing structure, which rose like an impregnable rock face. Right now, he couldn’t seem to get a foothold on exactly what’d happened.
A cool blast of air greeted him as he entered the courthouse. He waved at the court security guard as he worked through the metal detector security checkpoint.
Deputy Marshal Nick Stanton met him at the elevator.
A tattoo of an American eagle was visible on his right forearm.
Normally, Nick didn’t wear short sleeves, so the plain black T-shirt he was wearing was out of character, even if the cool weather from this morning had morphed into a blazing hot afternoon.
“Butler.”
“Stanton.” Ethan pressed the up button and stared at the arrows above the car. “What did you find out?”
The elevator door opened, and Stanton waved Ethan in first. Even though they were evenly matched in height, Stanton had at least twenty pounds of muscle over Ethan. Nick made him nervous—and glad they were on the same team.
Nick pressed the button for their floor and crossed his massive arms over his equally massive chest. “I’ll tell you when we get to the offices.”
“I need to change first, then I want everyone gathered.” Ethan scanned his badge at the door.
Emma Kennedy sat at the reception desk, covering Aubrey’s job while she was off.
“Butler, Deputy Marshal Roberts left you this.” She handed Ethan a file with Rousseau’s name written across the top.
“Thanks. I’ll be back in a second.” Ethan shut the door to his office, quickly changed out of the costume, and headed back to Aubrey’s desk, where he picked up the file.
Stanton poured himself coffee at the credenza. “Where’s Sunshine?”
“Who?” Ethan paused from reading the file.
Stanton came back over with two mugs, handing one to Ethan. “You know, Sunshine. Aubrey.”
Emma chuckled. “Aubrey is in a safe house. Liam is with her.”
Ethan glanced between the two grinning deputies. “What’s ‘Sunshine’ supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Nick raised his hands. “I was just asking about her. You’re testy today.”
“Let’s go.” Ethan pointed his chin at the conference room. “Everyone else should be waiting for us in conference room A.” He glanced back. “That means you too, Emma.”
“Right.” She cleared her throat.