Twin Targets

“Not that she’s saying. We’re keeping an eye on her, obviously. Even weirder, the shooters didn’t seem to know for sure who they were after.”

“It sounds like they weren’t the brightest bulbs in the pack. What do you want from me?”

“There’s no obvious connection with the Martino family, but my chief figured you’d want to know.”

There was silence on the line for a moment, but he could hear the scratch of Jackson’s pen. He had a quick, vivid image of Jackson in his fifth-floor office, looking out at the city that had been his home for most of his life—a life that he’d dedicated to eradicating the smear of Mob activity.

“Okay,” Jackson said. “We’ll look into it on this end. Keep me posted, right?”

“Right.” He waited, wondering if his brother would say anything personal, not sure he wanted him to.

“Take care of yourself, kid.” Jackson’s voice was gruff. “Call your mother.”

That brought a reluctant grin. “I do.”

“Well, call more often. Stay in touch.” He clicked off.

Micah hung up the receiver slowly, letting the smile fade from his face. Jackson hadn’t said anything about the fact that someone under Micah’s care had been killed. But it was a sure bet he’d been thinking it.

Stop trying to live up to a legend, he reminded himself. You’ll never do it.

Micah McGraw had told her virtually nothing about her sister’s death. Jade sat at the computer in the quiet of the county library, frowning at the screen. She wanted to look up details about the funeral service for Ruby, and she didn’t even know where to start.

Would McGraw have told her more if their conversation hadn’t been interrupted by those two hoods? Somehow she didn’t think so. He was the epitome of a law enforcement professional. She’d been glad of that when he’d protected her during those terrifying moments she hadn’t known if each breath would be her last.

But now that the fear had subsided, she found she resented everything about the man—his iron control, his snapped questions, his air of doubt at everything she’d said.

And most of all, she resented the fact that he’d left her completely in the dark about her sister’s life and death. Where had Ruby been living during her time in Montana? What had she done? Had she made friends, enjoyed life, learned to laugh again? Or had she been living in fear?

The fear would have been justified.

She bit her lip. This was ridiculous. She was a librarian. She knew how to research. If the U.S. Marshal Service, in the person of Deputy Marshal McGraw, wouldn’t confide in her the details of her own sister’s death, she’d find out for herself.

Fingers flying, she started combing through the records of Montana newspapers. Somewhere there had to be something. Knowing the Witness Protection Program’s passion for secrecy, they’d have clamped down on publicity, but they couldn’t cover every base. Someone would be planning a funeral for Ruby, no matter what name they’d insisted she use.

Finally she found it. Ruby Maxwell. She leaned closer as if that would get her nearer to her sister.

There was no article about a murder, no hint that Ruby’s death had been anything remarkable. Just a brief notice that funeral services would be held tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. at Christ Church, Brownsville, Montana.

She stared at the listing, her throat tight. Then she clicked on a site that would give her directions. It would be a long drive. She’d have to get an early start.

“Going somewhere?”

The words sent her spinning in her chair. Micah McGraw stood behind her, so close that her knees brushed his pant legs when her chair swiveled. She hadn’t heard a thing to indicate that anyone was in the library. The man must move like a cat.

“I beg your pardon?” She tried to sound cool and collected, but her pulse skittered. If he knew she planned to attend her sister’s funeral, she didn’t doubt his reaction.

“I couldn’t help but notice the Web site. You do realize that we need to know where you are at all…” His voice trailed off as he looked more closely at the directions on the screen.

Then he switched his gaze to her, his face uncomfortably close. “Brownsville. You told me you didn’t know where your sister lived. Funny. I was actually on the verge of believing you.”

She felt her cheeks warm. “I did not know where Ruby lived. I told you the truth.”

He flicked a glance at the computer. “Then how did you find out about Brownsville?”

“I’m a librarian. I know how to do research. You people may have kept any report of Ruby’s murder out of the papers, but you missed the funeral announcement.”

“You had to know where to look.”

She blew out an exasperated breath at his stubbornness and pushed her chair away from the desk. And away from him.

“Go ahead, check for yourself. Page back through my search. You’ll see exactly how I got there. It took me over an hour to find the answer you could have given me in a minute if you weren’t so wedded to your secrecy.”

He didn’t take her word for it. He leaned over the computer and hit the back arrow, flipping backward through the pages she’d searched on her way to finding out about Ruby’s funeral.

Finally he stopped, apparently satisfied, eyeing her.

“Maybe I am wedded to secrecy, as you say. But you of all people ought to know how important it is.”

“Ruby is dead.” Her throat closed on the words, and she had to fight to say more. “It doesn’t matter now who knows where she was.”

“Maybe not.” His tone softened. “I’m sorry. You could have asked me about the funeral.”

“Would you have answered?”

That gave him pause. “I don’t know.” It sounded honest. “If my chief said it was okay, I would have. You deserve to know that.”

Some of her annoyance at him drained away. “Thank you.”

He jerked a nod toward the computer. “Those directions. You’re not planning on going to the funeral, are you?”

“I am.” She planted her hands on the arms of her chair, shoving it back as she stood. “I am going to my sister’s funeral tomorrow.”

“Jade…” He shook his head. It was the first time he’d called her by her first name, and it startled her. “You can’t do that.”

“Yes, I can. And I’m going to.”

He glared, and she had the sense that he was counting to ten. “Stop and think about this. Ruby knew people in that town…people who had no idea she had a twin sister. If you walk in there cold, they’re going to think she’s come back from the dead.”

Her heart winced at the words. She hadn’t thought about that, and the idea added an extra layer of hurt. “I’m sorry about that, but it doesn’t change my mind. Whether it makes people talk or not, I’m going to my sister’s funeral.”

“Have you forgotten that the shooters were after you, too?” His anger rushed toward her in waves. “It would be better to stay as far away as possible from your connection to Ruby. I’m sure my boss would say the same.”

“Those men are out of commission now.” She had to steady herself, because remembering was like revisiting a nightmare. “And they already knew about my connection to Ruby.”

He frowned, those level brows drawn down over his dark eyes. “Even so, we ought to play it safe. We don’t know why those two were after you. Or even why they were after Ruby.”

“What do you know?” And what, if anything, are you willing to tell me? “Surely by this time you must have found out something.”

A curtain seemed to draw across his eyes. “I can’t discuss that with you.”

“No, of course not.” Anger lent strength to her words. “You don’t want me to know a thing. You don’t even want me to say goodbye to my sister.” Her heart twisted. “Well, I’m going to Ruby’s funeral, and the only way you can stop me is to arrest me.”

His silence, lasted for the space of a long breath. And then…

“If that’s how you want it.”

“You…” Surely he wasn’t really going to arrest her.

“If you’re that determined to go, you’ll go. But I’m going with you.”

“I don’t want you.”

“I don’t doubt that.” His words held a determination that told her arguing would do her no good at all. “But that’s the offer. Either I go with you tomorrow, or I really will detain you.”

She was astounded at the strength of her desire to throw something at him. She didn’t do things like that. Ruby was the one who gave in to impulse, not her.

And if she did, he’d probably arrest her for assaulting a federal officer. Then she’d never get to the funeral.

“All right.” She bit off the words. “Have it your way.”

“I intend to,” he said, and it was as much a threat as a promise.

The sun rose slowly, almost reluctantly, bathing miles of snowy emptiness with a cold, clear light. Jade glanced across the front seats of the truck at Micah. He’d picked her up in the predawn darkness, and they’d driven for miles without a word between them.

Her first impression of his vehicle had been right on target. The truck was an older model, but spotless inside.

Micah had shed his parka, revealing a woolly V-neck layered over a dress shirt and tie. The chocolate-brown of the sweater echoed the color of his eyes. He drove quickly and competently, managing the occasional patch of black ice or drifted snow without incident.

A twinge of guilt pricked her into breaking the silence. “You must have had to get up in the middle of the night.”

He shrugged. “No big deal.” He shot her a cautious look, as if wondering whether it was safe to talk after the way she’d responded to him yesterday. “I’m sorry for forcing my presence on you. I do know you’d rather be alone, but it might not be safe.”

“Do you honestly think someone is after me?” Even now, she found the events of the past few days incredible, still felt half convinced that she’d wake and discover it all a bizarre nightmare.

“Probably not, but it’s better to take precautions.”

She didn’t know whether to be reassured by that or not. But he was wrong about one thing. “I know I didn’t want you to come. But I’m glad I’m not alone today.”

“There’s not much anyone else can do when you’re burying a loved one, but it’s still better to have people around. When…” He let that trail off.

She twisted in the seat to see him better. “When what?”

He hesitated for a moment. “I was going to say that when my father died, I don’t know how I’d have coped without my mother and brother.”

She’d never known a father, but someone like Micah had probably had the sort of childhood she could only imagine. “How old were you?”

“Eighteen. My dad was a cop, killed in the line of duty.”

“I’m sorry.” That explained something about him. He was following in his father’s footsteps, in a way.

She’d always been determined not to follow in her mother’s.

He nodded, as if in acceptance of her sympathy. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you more about your sister. There really is a good reason for all the security. No one would testify against organized crime if they didn’t think they’d be protected. And even then, it takes courage to do what your sister did.”

Her throat knotted, and she had to clear it before she could speak. “I know. I was proud of her. Ruby was always the brave one when it came to dealing with things.”

Things like their mother in a drunken rage, or a landlord determined to evict them, or one of Mom’s boyfriends trying to take money from her purse when she was passed out.

“What did you do when things got rough?”

“Hid, when I was small. When we were a little older, I’d get out of the apartment. I’d try to find someplace safe. That’s how I first discovered the library. A whole building filled with books to escape into, and no one trying to chase me away.”

A half-smile touched her lips at the memory of that first time, and Ms. Henderson showing her how to apply for a library card and introducing her to the wonders available just for the asking.

She’d never taken a book home, of course. That would have been asking to have it ruined or sold. Ms. Henderson had seemed to know that without a word being spoken.

Could someone like Micah possibly understand? If he did, that was almost worse than the alternative.

“Sorry.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You’re not interested in my past.”

“Yes. I am.” He reached for a pair of sunglasses tucked into the visor as the sunlight strengthened, sending up a white glare from the snow. “Ruby talked a little about her life, the times I saw her. There’s no reason not to tell you that she seemed…well, content, I guess, with the way things turned out. She worked in a little café, made some friends, was active in her church.”

“Church? Ruby?” She’d thought she was beyond surprises where her sister was concerned, but that did startle her.

He sent her a sidelong, questioning glance. “Ruby came to faith after she entered the program. I sensed that everything she’d been through had made her realize the importance of having Christ in her life.”

Tears stung her eyes, and Jade blinked them away. “Once hearing that would have meant the world to me.”

“Once?” The dark glasses masked his expression, but his voice probed for an answer.

She felt a little flare of anger. Was he judging her?

“Based on the way you talked about Ruby’s faith, you seem to be a believer, but I don’t understand how you can think God is in control with all the things you must see in your job.”

Like Ruby’s lifeless body, in her own garage.

“Those are the things that make me understand how much I need to listen for God’s guidance.”

“And when God is silent?” Grief put an edge on the words like a whetstone on a knife. “When He seems too far away to hear you cry?”

He took the glasses off so that she could see his eyes. They were dark with concern. One might almost imagine that he cared, but that was impossible. She was just a job to him.

“There have been times when I’ve thought God was pretty distant. I always seem to find that I’m the one who has moved, not God.”

Unshed tears had a stranglehold on her throat. She had to struggle to force the words out, astounded that she was having this conversation with Micah, of all people.

“I wish I could believe that. I really do.”

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