Tied Up in Knots (Marshals 3)

He nodded. “I would agree. They were both highly trained. They just didn’t expect to be blindsided.”

“No, how could they have.”

The question-and-answer session lasted a couple of hours, and I was surprised Adair allowed the crime-scene cleaning team to come in while he was still talking to me until I realized they were all wearing noise-cancelling headphones like tarmac workers at the airport. Kowalski, who had foresight most people didn’t give him credit for, apprised them of the possibility and they’d come prepared.

“We will keep your name out of the news, of course, but I’m sure that there will be reporters who put events together.”

“We can deal with that, Agent,” McAllister assured him. “We take care of our own.”

“Special Agent,” Adair corrected him.

“Chief Deputy,” Kage said, and since clearly he had the biggest dick in the room, everyone else shut up. “Is that all, Special Agent?”

“For now, yes.”

Why it took another half an hour for the Feds to go, I had no idea, but when they finally left, McAllister whirled around and said he would personally contact CPD and have uniformed officers there, watching the house round the clock going forward.

I shook my head. “If Hartley wants me, he’s gonna get me. But I have to be honest and say that I really do think he’s going to go to Paris like he said he was and be some underground sensation there.”

“He said he’d have a following?”

“No, he’d think that was pretentious. But I think he’s got other plans at the moment that don’t include me, if they ever do again.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I just… our dynamic just changed. And I’m not saying that we’re friends, because that would be insane… but he said it himself. He doesn’t want to kill me anymore. Hurt, yes—if he got the chance—but kill, no. So now I’m not like a prop he can move around anymore. He would have to talk to me in a way that wouldn’t include coercion. It’s a problem he has to work out, and it’ll take him a while—maybe even forever—to solve.”

“So if I’m hearing you correctly, you believe that he’ll stay clear of you until he figures out a way to get you to go with him willingly.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I’m not sure that you’re qualified to make this call, marshal.”

“Sadly, no one knows Hartley better than me,” I told him. “So please, don’t waste people here I don’t need.”

He looked to Kage for help.

“I agree with McAllister,” Kage said, which was surprising. “Every night there will be men stationed outside this house, but we’ll do that internally. I’ve already contacted Judicial Security, and the assistant director promised me protective personnel starting Monday.”

“And from now until then?” McAllister wanted to know.

“Marshal Jones is on house arrest and he’ll be checked in on every four hours, and as you know, he lives with Marshal Doyle, and as an ex-Green Beret, he’s more than qualified to provide protection.”

“Ex?” I whispered.

“Lives with?” McAllister asked.

Ian grinned smugly. “Yeah. We’re getting married.”

It took several moments, and I was worried for a few of them because McAllister looked so stricken, I thought he was going to either burst into tears or let loose a volley of hateful words. But neither happened. He smiled instead. Huge, wide, which was a surprise because I didn’t think he did that.

“I didn’t know, but that’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

“Yes,” Kage said, getting up, which signaled McAllister and the other four lawyers—who Kage hadn’t introduced—to get up as well. I’d found out that if he didn’t like you, he didn’t tell anyone your name. So clearly he found them bothersome and was showing his disdain. It also meant, whoever they were, that they were up there on the food chain. Kage never treated any underling poorly; it wasn’t his way to take out irritation on the messenger.

“You’re a PR dream, Marshal Jones.”

“I’m just a marshal on Sam Kage’s team, sir.”

He nodded. “I must say that after meeting Marshals Becker and Ching, then you, that I suspect the chief deputy of building quite the team.”

“As fun as this is….” Kage griped before grabbing my bicep and walking me with him to the front door. He opened it and looked out at the rain a moment before directing my gaze to the porch. “You step one foot out here before Monday morning when you come to work, and I will strip you of your investigator status and loan you, permanently, to Finance or Management Support or”—and I knew before he even said it, because yeah, he was evil like that—“Asset Forfeiture.”

I shivered.

“Either way, I’d have to find Doyle a new partner, just like I was going to have to find a new one for you.”

“For me, sir?”

“He was deployed too often. I would have had to replace him as your partner. I would have kept him on the team, but you need someone here. That’s the whole purpose of a partner.”