The Chosen. BEVERLY BARTON

you back off and leave protecting a witness to the FBI.”

      The corners of Griff’s lips twitched, a hint of amusement in the expression. “Special Agent Baxter explained to Ms. Hughes the benefits of allowing the FBI to safeguard her. But when I offered her not only the security of my home and my protection, but a job, too, Barbara Jean agreed that my offer was more acceptable to her.”

      Lindsay wondered just what sort of job Griff had offered the woman. Apparently, providing her a position with the Powell Agency had tipped the scales in his favor. Knowing Griff as she did, she had no doubt that he would create a position for Ms. Hughes if that’s what it took to secure her safety within the Powell compound. And an added bonus would be one-upping Special Agent Baxter. Even though Curtis Jackson hadn’t been happy to encounter Griff and his agents at every turn during the past three years, he and Griff had managed to remain cordial to each other. But with Nic Baxter and Griff, cordiality didn’t come into play. Lindsay wondered how Griff would react if she suggested he allow her to deal with Nic during this case and for him to steer clear of the lady.

      “Just answer one question for me—did the sister see the killer?” Judd asked.

      Griff grimaced. “She’s not sure.”

      “What do you mean she’s not sure?”

      “Look, this is not the time or the place to have this discussion.” Judd shrugged off Griff’s grasp. The two men stood almost eye to eye. Judd did have to glance up a bit to make direct eye contact since Griff was a couple of inches taller.

      “If you didn’t want me here, why send your Girl Friday to fetch me?” Judd’s upper lip curled in a snarl.

      “Damn it!” Griff cursed under his breath. “If you want to take an active part in this investigation, then shape up, stay sober, and treat the people who are trying to help you as if they have feelings.”

      Lindsay’s cheeks warmed. Griff was talking about her and they all knew it.

      “And if I really just don’t give a damn anymore?” Judd’s tense stance eased slightly.

      “You give a damn,” Griff told him. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here. So listen up—stop wallowing in self-pity and start acting like a civilized human being.”

      Judd bristled. Lindsay could all but hear the thundering roar of anger rushing through his body. She braced herself for the worst.

      Without warning, the sound of soft weeping caught their attention, and for a split second Lindsay was grateful that something—anything—had diffused the mounting tension between the two men. The last thing she wanted was to have to put herself between Griff and Judd.

      Nic Baxter escorted an auburn-haired, wheelchair-bound woman out of the ICU waiting room. Barbara Jean Hughes held her head high as she patted her damp cheeks with a handkerchief that Lindsay instantly recognized as one of Griffin Powell’s. The large embroidered black “P” on the edge of the expensive linen was a dead giveaway.

      As the FBI agent and the victim’s sister approached, Lindsay studied Barbara Jean. Attractive, but not classically pretty. Neat. Slender. Delicate. Probably in her early forties.

      In contrast, Nic was tall—very tall—with an Amazonian, hourglass-shaped body, and was a decade younger than the other woman. One thing for sure, no one would ever use the word delicate to describe Special Agent Nicole Baxter.

      “That’s the sister, right?” Judd said, and before anyone realized his intentions, he stepped directly in front of Barbara Jean’s wheelchair and confronted her. “Did you see him? Can you can give us a description of the man who killed your sister, the same man who killed my Jenny?” Judd leaned down, grasped the arms of her wheelchair and demanded, “If you don’t help us now, he’ll kill another woman before we can stop him. Is that what you want?”

      Reacting immediately, Nic Baxter came around the side of the wheelchair, straight toward Judd. But before she could reach him, Griff clamped his hands down on Judd’s shoulders and yanked him away from Barbara Jean. She stared wide-eyed and mouth agape at the man who had accosted her.

      Judd jerked free, barreled around, and lifted his fists to attack Griff. Acting purely on instinct, Lindsay stepped in between the two big men. From out of nowhere, Rick Carson appeared behind Griff. Apparently, he had been only a few steps behind Nic and Barbara Jean.

      Griff bristled. The skin tightened over his sharp cheekbones and his ice blue eyes squinched with anger.

      Judd froze to the spot and glared at Lindsay, her intervention acting as the deterrent she had hoped it would. Apparently, Judd wasn’t so far gone that he would actually resort to hitting her.

      “Get Mr. Walker under control or I will,” Nic told Griff.

      Griff motioned for Lindsay to move, then when she did, he locked his fierce gaze to Judd’s. “Is that what you want? You want to be taken into custody by the FBI?”

      Judd didn’t respond verbally, simply loosened his tightly fisted hands and relaxed his battle-ready stance.

      Observing Judd’s withdrawal, Griff spoke to Lindsay, “Carson will take over and get him out of here. You’ll fly home with me.”

      When Rick Carson came forward, Judd backed away, and Lindsay feared another confrontation. But Rick made no move to touch Judd, who seemed more than ready to cause an even worse scene in the hospital corridor.

      Lindsay moved closer to Griff in order to speak privately with him. “Let me take care of Judd. He’s less likely to resist going with me than he is if you try to send him with Rick.”

      “It’s obvious that Judd’s emotional and mental stability has worsened,” Griff said. “He’s dangerous now.”

      “I know,” she replied. “But he’s more dangerous to himself than to anyone else.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “I’m sure.” She had never lied to Griff, and she wasn’t actually lying now. She wanted to believe that Judd did not pose a physical threat to her, despite knowing that he still possessed the power to destroy her emotionally.

      Griff nodded. “Be careful.”

      “I will.”

      Griff then turned to Barbara Jean Hughes, bent down on his haunches, and clasped the woman’s hands.

      Meek as a lamb, Judd left the hospital with Lindsay. His submissive attitude worried her far more than if he’d been openly belligerent. She tried to think of something to say to him, but she came up blank. When they walked outside, the cold night air blasted them the minute the hospital doors closed behind them. She paused long enough to button her coat before heading to the parking deck.

      Judd lifted his face to the wind, as if he liked the feel of the bitter cold. “So, what now, my little savior?” he asked, the tone of his voice strangely amicable.

      Looking over the parking lot in front of them, an area reserved for doctors and VIPs, Lindsay succinctly explained her plan. “We’re going to find a decent restaurant and eat supper. Then we’re getting a couple of rooms at a local motel for tonight. Come morning, we’re going back to Tennessee.” She removed her gloves from her coat pocket and slipped them on. “I can either drive you back to the hunting lodge and dump your sorry ass off, and leave you to drown in self-pity …” She paused, expecting a snide remark of some type. When he didn’t respond, she continued, “Or if you can behave yourself, I’ll take you to Griff’s and you can be part of our investigation again, the way you were in the beginning.” “Either or, huh?”

      “Take it or leave it.” Uncertain what Judd would do, she headed toward the two-level parking deck on the west side of the hospital.

      He caught up with her before she reached her Trailblazer parked on the bottom level. “I’d like a big, juicy steak for supper. How about you?”

      Lindsay released a deep breath. She hadn’t