One
Wyatt didn’t love being left waiting, but he felt that showing Nash some patience and grace was the least he could do.
After all, without Nash’s mentorship, he likely wouldn’t have his current position.
Nash had helped Wyatt get the job with the marshals, and the man remained an ongoing source of sound advice and support.
While Wyatt had been assigned to the Fugitive Task Force and Nash mostly worked witness protection cases, Nash was experienced enough that he always had good insights to share.
So yes, he’d wait a little while longer—but only a little while.
He was still on the clock, and he had work of his own he needed to be doing. He couldn’t hang around here all day.
He left a voicemail again. “Nash, what happened to you? I’m at the garage. Waiting. Let me know if you’re still coming.”
He ended the call then glanced around. The parking garage was empty of people but full of cars at this time of the afternoon. A discreet spot to meet, but why had he needed privacy…and why hadn’t he shown up?
He typed out a text message to Caleb that he was on his way. It was obvious Nash was a no-show.
A shot rang out, muffled but mistakenly a gunshot.
Wyatt’s head jerked up. He scanned the area looking for movement, reaching to his side and unsnapping his holster.
His hand hovered over his weapon as the hair standing on the back of his neck alerted him to anything amiss.
He scanned the lines of cars looking for something out of the ordinary.
Nothing. No movement. No people. Only cars.
Suddenly, the garage elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Wyatt waited for someone to exit, but no one did.
He glanced around and, seeing no one, moved cautiously toward the elevator.
The doors started to slide closed but then opened back up again as if something was blocking them from fully closing.
As he moved closer, he spotted a leg protruding from the elevator.
A man’s body lay on the floor. There was a bullet hole in his chest, blood pooling on the floor, and the smell of gunfire still lingering in the air. That had to be the shot he’d heard.
Before Wyatt could react, a figure stumbled from the corner of the elevator and collapsed into him.
Nash!
A knife protruded from his chest and blood soaked his shirt. Wyatt held him up until his knees buckled, then he eased him to the floor.
Nash’s face was ashen and his skin clammy from the loss of blood. “Nash, what happened?” Wyatt demanded.
He struggled to speak. When he did, his voice was raspy but he seemed determined to say his piece. “Someone—someone leaked info…my clients.” Nash reached for his hand then pressed something into it. “Don’t trust anyone.”
Wyatt stared down at the small, hard object he passed him. A flash drive.
“Tell me what happened. Who did this to you?”
Obviously, the dead guy in the elevator had something to do with it.
A struggle had likely taken place inside that elevator.
His guess was that the dead guy had stabbed Nash and he’d fought back, shooting him.
As further proof, his gun still lay on the elevator floor.
Unfortunately, it looked like no one was the winner of this game.
Wyatt could see Nash was fading fast. He reached for his cell phone to call for help even knowing that it wouldn’t arrive in time to save his friend.
Nash clutched the hand with the flash drive. “Save her, Wyatt. You have to save her,” he said between labored breaths. “Danger.”
Wyatt’s gut clenched. “Who? Who is in danger?”
Nash took a deep breath then spoke as his final words were a mere whisper. “Allison Meeks.”
He went limp in Nash’s arms and the light faded from his eyes.
Wyatt checked for a pulse. Nothing. Sorrow filled Wyatt, but he didn’t have time to mourn.
Instinct and training pushed him forward, reminding him that there was no time to waste in following through on Nash’s dying plea.
Someone was leaking Nash’s client lists.
His friend worked on witness relocation for the WITSEC program, so having his client list leaked put witnesses in peril.
Wyatt pulled out his cell phone and dialed Deputy Director Clint Davis, Nash’s immediate supervisor and the director of the office where both Wyatt and Nash worked. As the line rang, Wyatt remembered Nash’s warning. Don’t trust anyone.
Clint answered after the first ring and Wyatt gave him the bad news, doing his best to keep his voice steady.
“It’s Nash. He’s dead. It looks like someone stabbed him and they struggled.
The other guy was shot.” He rattled off the address, then ended the call after Clint assured him help was on the way.
Backup from the marshals service would arrive soon to process the scene, but Wyatt wanted to see those elevator cameras and watch exactly what had happened for himself.
He turned his gaze toward the dead man in the elevator.
He stood and snapped a photo of him then sent it to Clint.
Hopefully, the marshals could identify this guy quickly and discover why he’d killed Nash or who he worked for.
Of course, why would anyone want to kill a US marshal, especially one who worked in the Witness Protection Division? Only one reason…to leave a witness unprotected. He glanced at the flash drive Nash had given him. Something important must be on it for Nash to hold on long enough to hand it over.
Allison Meeks.
Those had been his last words before dying, but who was Allison Meeks? It must be one of his WITSEC charges.
He did a quick search of Nash’s jacket and pockets looking for his cell phone.
Nothing. He did the same with the other guy, but didn’t find Nash’s cell or even one of the man’s own.
Nash’s phone would contain valuable information about his clients, but it would take government level security protocols to access it.
If this guy had taken Nash’s phone, he’d either dropped it or handed it off to someone before the altercation turned deadly.
It was also possible Nash had simply left it locked up in his vehicle…
wherever he’d parked. Wyatt would have to let the marshals find it and search for the cell phone.
And, as much as he hated to, he would let them examine the elevator security footage without him too.
He had been given a mission by his dying friend. Wyatt had to save Allison Meeks.
First, he needed to figure out who she was, and he was certain this flash drive would contain that information.
Wyatt hurried back to his vehicle and dug through the back for his briefcase.
He pulled out his laptop and opened it, hesitating only a moment before sliding the drive into the port.
If this was WITSEC client information, Wyatt wasn’t authorized to view it.
It might not even be legal for him to see it, but his friend had died to get it to him.
He pulled up the information and clicked through until he found the file on Allison Meeks.
Her WITSEC file. Just as he’d suspected, Allison Meeks was a client of Nash’s, someone he’d entered into the program and vowed to protect.
If Nash’s client list had been leaked, that meant whoever she was hiding from might already know her whereabouts.
He needed to find her as soon as possible.
He clicked on the file. A photograph popped up. Flowing red hair. Soft brown eyes. Round face with porcelain skin. And then of course other photos showing different hair colors and styles and colored lenses to change eye color.
Wyatt’s breath caught when he saw the photos.
He didn’t need the file to tell him her true identity. Allison Meeks’s real name was Emily Matthews—Wyatt’s dead brother’s fiancée.
Wyatt slammed the laptop closed. Grief and anger surged through him.
He knew Emily had gone into WITSEC after testifying against his brother’s killer, but he’d had no idea of her new name.
Nash had never told him and he’d made a point never to ask, forcing himself to be satisfied with Nash’s assurance that she was safe.
Victor Kane, the man who’d murdered his brother, had recently been released from prison after his case was overturned on appeal and sent back for retrial. Wyatt knew the prosecutors were scrambling to retry him.
The initial trial against Kane had turned on Emily’s testimony.
She’d been with Greg that night and had witnessed Kane pulling the trigger that ended his brother’s life.
If Victor Kane was getting a new trial, and he wanted to avoid a second conviction, then he would need to find Emily to shut her up once and for all.
And, if they had Nash’s cell phone, it wouldn’t take Kane’s men long to track her down.
Wyatt reopened the laptop then scanned down the file until he found the last known contact info for Allison Meeks, including a phone number. He pulled out his phone and dialed it.
An automated voice on the line told him the number on file was no longer in service. No way to warn her. But her updated number was surely in Nash’s cell phone.
He glanced at the address on file and hoped it was up-to-date.
Mercy, Texas.
He’d never heard of the town, but he needed to find it right away.
He shut the laptop again then slid it back into its case. He had no choice.
He had to find Emily before Kane did.
* * *
Emily Matthews stood at the front of the Mercy County Sheriff’s Office’s training room, clicking through slides as the deputies followed along.
Sheriff Thompson had asked her to go over the new radio emergency codes with the deputies, and she’d agreed to step up.
It was a nice change from her regular duties as dispatcher.