Duncan hesitated, unsure if he should buy this guy’s story. “Why are the marshals involved?”
Brooks glanced at Chelsey. “Because we know Ms. Robards is in danger. I’m Brett Thompson’s handler—he was joining the witness protection program as soon as the wedding was over.”
“Witness protection?” Chelsey echoed, pulling away from him so that she could face the marshal. “Why would Brett do that?”
“Because he was going to testify against the owner of the Coyote Creek Construction company.” Slade Brooks frowned. “We had a job lined up for him as a security guard in Florida, along with new names and identities for the two of you. You’re saying you didn’t know anything about it?”
“No!” All the color faded from Chelsey’s cheeks to the point Duncan feared she’d pass out. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her arm.
Brett’s strange story about a new job made sense in a way, but still, Duncan couldn’t believe his old friend had planned to do all of this without telling Chelsey. Or him.
Obviously, Brett’s delay in going into WITSEC had resulted in his murder.
SIX
Witness protection.
The phrase echoed over and over in Chelsey’s mind, yet she was still having trouble comprehending what she’d been told by the US marshal.
Brett had witnessed a crime? And had been about to go into witness protection, taking her with him? Without saying a word ahead of time? Marrying her without indicating they’d be forced to move, to relocate to Florida of all places under a different name and identity?
A flash of anger hit hard. How dare he? How could Brett even consider doing something like that? Marry her, then turn her entire world upside down? As if the danger alone wasn’t bad enough, she didn’t like Florida. It was far too hot in the summer.
Her knees felt weak and she did her best to lock them in place, remaining upright with an effort. Wordlessly, Duncan slid his arm around her waist and drew her close, offering his support.
Gratefully, she leaned against him, her mind still reeling. As upset as she was with Brett, she was forced to accept that in reality, this was more her fault than his.
Because she’d agreed to marry him, despite not being in love with him. Why hadn’t she called off the wedding before it came to this?
If she’d looked deep into her heart earlier, maybe she’d have understood her feelings weren’t love as much as friendship. Needing someone, anyone to be with after losing her mother.
There was no denying that if she’d handled this differently, Brett would still be alive.
And she wouldn’t be in danger.
“We need to go.” The marshal’s low drawl interrupted her thoughts. “Ms. Robards’s safety is our main concern.”
“I...just can’t believe this.” She drew in a deep breath, then sternly told herself to get over it. There was no way to go back and change the past. Besides, the US marshal was right—they couldn’t stand here on the mountain sheltered by the trees indefinitely.
They had to get to civilization, the sooner the better. “Okay, I’m ready.”
Duncan gently hugged her, then loosened his grip. “We need to keep Chelsey between us since she’s the one in danger.”
“Agreed,” the marshal said.
“I was planning to head into Moose,” Duncan said to the marshal. “But if you have a better idea, Marshal Brooks, I’m willing to adapt.”
“Moose works, and you may as well call me Slade,” he said and she heard a hint of Texas in his voice. “Easier all around.”
Duncan nodded. “I’m Duncan O’Hare, a cop with the Milwaukee Police Department.”
“I know,” Slade responded. “We dug into your background when you arrived to stand up as Brett’s best man.” He turned toward Chelsey. “Stay behind me, Ms. Robards.”
“Chelsey,” she corrected, falling in step as directed. Duncan covered her back and as they continued on their way, she hoped and prayed he wouldn’t get hurt.
Brett had done a disservice to Duncan, too. Inviting him to come to Wyoming to stand up in the wedding, knowing he was in danger.
Not that there was anything she could do about that now. If not for Duncan, she’d be dead.
The tip of her oversize hiking boot caught a tree root, sending her stumbling into Slade. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“It’s no problem,” he drawled. “I’m glad you found something to wear other than the dress.”
“Me, too.” She wasn’t going to point out that her feet were still moving around inside the hiking boots, causing blisters to form. There wasn’t anything the US marshal or Duncan could do to change it.
All she could do was to pray they’d reach the town of Moose soon.
“Chelsey, let us know when you need a break,” Duncan said. “We can rest as needed.”
“Okay.” Truthfully she preferred to keep going, mostly because there was no way of knowing if the gunman was following them the way Slade had.
It had never occurred to her that bits of fabric from her dress may have left a trail. Slade had said that tracking was his area of expertise, but what if the gunman or the assailant had the same sort of skill?
She glanced fearfully over her shoulder. Duncan lifted a brow. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She continued walking, choosing the placement of her feet very carefully, doing her best to mimic what Slade was doing.
Being sandwiched between the two men was reassuring. She knew in her heart they would both protect her—in a way Brett had not.
She gave herself a mental shake. Brett was gone, and blaming him, sullying his memory wasn’t the answer.
But as they continued moving through the forest, she found herself wondering what would happen when they reached Moose.
She wanted nothing more than for her life to get back to normal. To return to the Teton Valley Hotel she owned and managed. Who was taking care
