Witness Protection Widow. Debra Webb

is, he’d hadn’t exactly wanted to spend 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 a very intense few months together, and he’d wondered about her for years after moving to Seattle. They’d both been so young when they first met. He’d kept an eye on her for years while she finished college, certain they would end up together again at some point. He’d anonymously helped out when her father passed away.

      Then his notions of a romantic reunion had come to a grinding halt after she moved to Atlanta.

      She had gotten married. He shook his head. All those years, she had haunted his dreams. He’d thought he had known her, thought they had something that deserved a second go when the time was right. 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 she had was not someone he knew at all. He imagined she fully comprehended 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 hospital he’d ever stepped into. The odor triggered unpleasant memories he’d just as soon not revisit in this lifetime. Losing his younger brother was 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 he had. His parents had spent better than twenty years 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.

      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 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 shootout, 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.

      “No, thanks. My wife was here until just a few minutes ago. She’s hovered over me since the paramedics brought me in. Between her and the nurses, I’m good, trust me.”

      Jax nodded. “You didn’t want to discuss the case by phone. I take it this is a dark one.” Some cases were listed as dark. These were generally the ones where the person or persons who wanted to hurt the witness had an abundance of resources, making the witness far more vulnerable. Sometimes a case was dark simply because of the priority tag associated with the investigation. The least number of people possible were involved with dark cases.

      There were bad guys in this world, and then there were really bad guys.

      “Need-to-know basis only,” Holloway said. “We’re only days out from trial. Keeping this witness safe is essential. At this point, we pretty much need to keep her under surveillance twenty-four hours a day until trial. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

      “Understandable,” Jax agreed.

      “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Armone case. It’s been all over the news.”

      Jax’s eyebrows went up with a jolt of surprise. “That’s not a name I expected to hear. I knew the patriarch of the family was awaiting trial, but I haven’t kept up with the details. Besides, that’s a ways out of our district.”

      “The powers that be felt moving her out of Georgia until trial would help keep her safe. They’ve kept the details quiet on this one to the greatest extent possible. Even with all those precautions and a media blackout, her first location was jeopardized.”

      Her? A bad, bad feeling began a slow creep through Jax.

      “Hell of a time for you to be out of commission,” he said instead of demanding who the hell the witness was. This could not happen. Maybe it was someone else. A secretary or other associate of the old man. Or maybe of the son, since he was dead. His death may have prompted someone—an illicit lover, perhaps—to come forward.

      “Tell me about it,” Holloway grumbled.

      “Why don’t you bring me up to speed,” Jax suggested. “We’ll go from there.”

      “The file’s under my pillow.”

      Jax chuckled as he reached beneath the thin hospital pillow. “I have to say, this is going the distance for the job.”

      “We do what we have to, right?”

      “Right.” Jax opened the file, his gaze landing on the attached photo. He blinked. Looked again. She looked exactly as she had ten years ago.

      “You okay there?” Holloway asked. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

      “Full disclosure, Holloway.” Jax frowned. “I know this woman.” No. That was wrong. He didn’t just know this woman—he knew her intimately. Had been disappointed in and angry with her for years now.

      “Well, hell. If this is a problem, we should call someone else in as quickly as possible. I’ve got the local sheriff, a friend of mine, taking care of things now. But I can’t keep him tied up this way. No one wants this bastard to get away this time. We’ve got him. As long as she lives to testify, he’s not walking.”

      Holloway was right. The Armone family had escaped justice far too long. “I’ve got this.” Jax cleared his head. If Holloway thought he was not up to par, he would insist on calling in someone else. Jax was startled, no denying it. But he wanted to do this. He had to do this. For reasons that went beyond the job. Purely selfish reasons. “You can count on me. I just wanted to be up front. We knew each other a long time ago.”

      “If you’re sure,” Holloway countered. “I’m confident I can count on you. I just don’t