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Authors: Angi Morgan

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BOOK: Dangerous Memories
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Naïve. She’d been so naïve. But no longer.

None of it was real. The two men in her life had shared a secret and that hurt most of all.

But she could hold on to her own secrets. Levi might think he knew about the nightmares, but
she wouldn’t admit anything. If she focused, she could keep the details to herself. She’d never share how the dream about a white room was streaked with red. She seemed to look through fog and dark red would be everywhere.

She couldn’t lie to herself any longer and claim it was just her imagination fabricating a part of her mother’s death. Or that it was a dream she’d thought couldn’t possibly
be related to anything real. Until this afternoon.

Not a dream at all. The rest of the images were fuzzy, blurred to where she couldn’t take a guess at what they represented. What had she seen when the man had yelled “gun”? The harder she tried to focus, the less clear it became.

“You won’t get home faster by clicking your ruby-red slippers and making a wish.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“That’s becoming a habit.”

“Please stop lecturing and let’s eat.” She lifted the stowaway table, but he put his hands on top of hers. Levi had instructed her to stay put and had supposedly gone in search of food. His hands were empty.

“You sure you don’t want a shower first?” he asked.

“No food?”

“Dining car isn’t serving until we get underway.”

“And you aren’t sharing
where you really went.” She began to lift the table again. “So let’s look at the letter.”

He smiled and shook his head.

“You’re not going to show me the letter until the train is moving.” She dropped the tray into its slot and relaxed on the couch again, pulling her feet under her, not caring about her muddy, damp clothing. It was his bed. “You’re afraid I won’t stay? Levi, I have nowhere
else to go. You’re stuck with me a while.”

“Very perceptive.”

“Not normally.” The facts of her parents’ deaths evaded her. She’d been duped by the two closest people in her life. No, she wasn’t feeling very smart at the moment.

“I’ll feel a bit more comfortable once we’re out of St. Louis,” he said.

“It’s been an exhausting day.” She just didn’t have the energy to think about
anything. She tucked a pillow by her ear, propping herself up against the wall, trying her best to stay awake. She closed her eyes. “This conversation is taking too much effort.”

Gun!

She heard the word through a fog on a hillside. What had happened to the rain? A rainbow shattered, splintering through the white. Something. She tried to grab hold. A face? A...what was it? Remember. She
had to remember. But if she did, she’d get hurt. Mama told her...she said not to say a word. What is it? She’s so close. Remember. Don’t...remember.

“Dad!”

She’d shouted herself awake. The ker-thunk she felt in her chest was her heart, not the train. She rubbed away the sleep and what little makeup might have remained on her eyes.

“You okay?” Levi stood bare-chested directly in
front of her.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Bad dream?” he asked with that knowing smile of his.

“I think so. This is so silly. I should be able to remember. I just woke up.”

“Don’t rush it. You only drifted off a few minutes.” He stood, stretching his arms to the overhead compartment where he’d stowed his duffel bag.

His muscles grew taut and he may have sucked in his gut. She wasn’t
certain, but it was nice to think he was showing off. Even endorphins couldn’t shake the eerie feeling from the dream. She needed to move more than the two feet available in the compartment. “When is the train going to leave?”

“Any minute. We can talk about your dream.” Levi stretched a white undershirt over his head.

“No talking. Not yet.”

She tried to dart to the side, make it
to the corner before he could move again, but bad timing chose that moment for the train to ease into motion. She fell against his body. His bare arms quickly wrapped her in a protective embrace, leaving the shirt stuck around his neck. Her hot cheek pressed against the smooth cool skin of his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Jolene.”

The way his hand skimmed her hair and the back of her neck,
soothed her like a drug. She could become addicted very quickly to this level of comfort. Her hands found the natural curves of the muscles in his back. The same ones she’d wanted to explore earlier through his wet shirt.

The vibration of the train made her toes tingle, at least that was the most logical explanation. If she didn’t have that reasoning, then she was tingly all over because
he was holding her.

Oh, no. Not again. He’d think she’d done it on purpose, to get close to him. There was no way to explain what had been happening in her head without talking.

No talking. No explanations. Not yet.

In her current state of exhaustion, she’d lose her concentration. Before she knew it, she’d be sitting back in a hypnotherapist’s chair or with a psychiatrist attempting
to “clear her mind.”

She jumped away from him as quickly as she’d landed there. She just should have left before her hands had wandered around his strong sinewy back. One step and the couch was against her knees. Not far enough.

“I’m sorry, I should have waited.” She pointed toward the bath door. “I just...you know, needed to use the sink.”

“Jolene...”

She couldn’t let him
talk or touch her. She sidestepped his body and shuffled to the sink to splash water on her face.
Stay awake. Keep it together. Just ignore him until he shares answers.
He moved toward the window, slipping the curtain open an inch with that long finger that had slid over the curve of her collarbone.

It couldn’t be happening again. She refused to believe she still had a crush on the handsome
Levi Cooper. She’d been over him a long time.

He was larger than anything in her dull life. Full of energy, fun, confidence.

Hold on, that was all fake. He’d lied. She needed to get her head on straight and had a horrible feeling it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Fifteen hours on a train? In a room just with him?

Quickly locking the door to the two-foot shower/toilet,
she had every intention of never coming out or facing him again. Especially in Dallas.

Chapter Three

TEXT MESSAGE: Blocked Sender 11:43 P.M.

Received confirmation you have eyes on target. Disappointed at earlier miss. We caution against another annoyance. Retrieve evidence. Eliminate.

L
EVI
STARED
AT
the door and absently polished his weapon with his T-shirt. It was the best he could do without a cleaning kit. Something to keep him awake, alert,
prepared. They were on a train, had been for almost six hours.

He didn’t like unknowns and there were a heck of a lot of them associated with Joseph, Elaine and Jolene Atkins. Protection duty was a lot different than investigative work.

I hope I don’t let you down, Joseph.

Jolene had come out of the shower an hour after he’d promised an extra large T-shirt. The steward didn’t have
a problem collecting one from the souvenir shop or a couple of burgers from the dining car. After all, it was an emergency with their “lost” luggage. The fifty he’d given him earlier to keep an eye on anyone lurking around and report back to him had helped.

Sheer exhaustion had finally put Jolene to sleep a couple of hours ago. He’d have to doze eventually, but not until the train passed
through Little Rock, Arkansas, around 3:00 a.m. He reloaded silently, verifying with each bullet there was no residue from his encounter with the mud hole at the funeral.

One day, they’d visit Joseph’s gravesite when the sun shone and she could have a peaceful memory to keep.

Hell, there wouldn’t be a “one day” for them. Not together. If they got involved, it would just get messy and
confusing.

It was imperative that Jolene regain her memories and enter WITSEC. When she did, she’d be reassigned. Whisked away without a goodbye. Like had happened to so many of his witnesses over the past eight years.

No remorse. Or none that she could know about. She needed a new life free from these monsters who had taken both parents from her. He’d seen the file on what the murderers
had done to her mother, to the protection detail and to Joseph himself.

The little girl from those photos hadn’t spoken for weeks. She’d shown all the symptoms of PTSD. When her dad had been released from the hospital, she’d begun to bounce back. No report of any memory of the event.

“Is something wrong?” Jolene whispered from the top berth.

“Nope,” he whispered across the small
room.

At this speed there weren’t too many lights passing by the window, just enough to see the tousled hair, the sleepy eyes, the question of whether to be afraid. Enough for her to notice he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Enough for him to see the attraction reflected in her eyes.

“Why are you still awake then?” she asked.

“Can’t sleep. You should though. You need to be alert tomorrow.”
He kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb any chance she had of returning to pleasant dreams. So he continued to whisper, keeping it quiet, enjoying her sultry voice when she reciprocated. He slid his gun back in its holster.

She tried to sit, but since there wasn’t room she slowly maneuvered over the bunk’s edge. The T-shirt rose higher, making him wish he was on his berth with a closer
view. Lord have mercy, he’d forgotten how much he enjoyed looking at her legs.

No, he hadn’t. He had
no
problem recalling that dangerous memory.

No more dangerous than him realizing there was nothing under that shirt and showing enough backside that...

Definitely time to think about something else.

“Listen, Levi, I don’t want you to get the idea that I’m a complete dolt.”

“What?” Had she caught him looking? “Why would I?”

A little upset, buried your father today, alone in a world that’s turned upside down, sexy as a supermodel...but never a dolt.

“I stayed in the bathroom over an hour.” She settled, pulling his pillow under her arm to lean on, tugging at the blanket to cover her legs. Driving him insane with how vulnerable she appeared.

He thought
about flipping on the lights. He’d be able to see her better, but she’d have the same advantage. And he didn’t know if the desire probably written on his face was good for her to see. A tension he felt everywhere, all the time. Looking at her, he knew he couldn’t hide it.

“You had your reasons.”

“Not good ones.” She shrugged.

“I’m not complaining, Jo.” He quickly pulled the undershirt
over his head and arms.
Safer this way.
“It’s been a long day with a lot to take in. So why don’t you grab some more shuteye. You can stay in my berth. I won’t be using it.”

“I need to see the letter.”

“Now? At one in the morning?”

“Yes. I’m ready. I wasn’t before, but I am now.” She rushed the last bit, but there was a calm in her voice that helped him believe her. And the fact
she stuck her chin in the air, sort of challenging him to think differently.

It had been risky not opening the letter earlier. Everything in his training said to do it, not leave anything to chance. But he had to trust his instinct about Joseph.
If
—and that was a huge if—he’d discovered who had killed his wife he would have turned over the information immediately to the Department of Justice.
His letter to Levi indicated that much. He said he’d know when to give her the wood carving from the house and assured him the letter was personal, to let her read it only when she was calm.

Now was good.

Jolene could read the message, react to it here, hopefully trust him and the WITSEC program. They’d reach Dallas, he’d turn the matter over to the DoJ, make certain Jolene was protected
and he’d return to his life.

He retrieved the letters from his duffel, leaving the dog statue—and its instructions—for later. One letter addressed to Witness Security, one to himself and one unopened addressed to Jolene.

“I have no idea what’s inside your envelope. I respected your dad’s wishes, kept it secure and delivered it to you.”

“I wasn’t expecting... You didn’t mention there
was one for me.”

“He instructed me not to. Asked me to hand deliver it.” He sat next to her, half wanting to be near, half needing to look over her shoulder and read the letter. “Are you sure you’re up for this now?”

“Positive.”

He handed over her envelope. She carefully peeled back the flap while he flipped the reading lamp on behind her head.

Silence. Except for the recurring
sounds of the passenger cars rolling over the tracks. A regular beat to calm his racing pulse. The thought about opening her letter had crossed his mind more than once in the last four days. If he leaned just a bit closer he could see it. Instead, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees—avoiding the temptation.

Both the message and Jolene.

The letters had arrived Special
Delivery from an unknown source—he suspected a lawyer. Whoever it was had covered their tracks well.

The Marshals Service document was a copy delivered indirectly through the Department of Justice. The DoJ might have more luck finding the lawyer, but with Joseph’s death and no other witness, it wasn’t a high priority. Until Jolene read her letter, Levi hadn’t wanted to push for more involvement
from either department that had declined to authorize protection.

He tilted his head to watch her, ready if she needed him. He didn’t care how awkward it might make things in the morning. He couldn’t sit by and watch her hurt...alone.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her thumbnail went back to her chin. An old habit she’d been attempting to break since high school. Her thumbnail dug into
the cute little cleft, sometimes spending more time scraping along her lower lip. He didn’t know why she tried so hard to stop. He liked it.

She read. A very long letter. Turning the pages back and forth several times once she was done. Looking up to him for something—he didn’t know what she expected.

“What did yours say?” she asked, no longer whispering, but with a voice choked with
tears.

“We could swap.”

“Actually, we can’t. Mine was a private goodbye and apology. It had nothing to do with Mama, you or men threatening my life.”

“Obviously, I’d hoped for something different.”
More clues to who was behind everything would have helped, Joseph.

“The letter please?” She held out one hand and with the other used the edge of the blanket to dry her eyes. “Never
mind. Can you read it aloud?”

He nodded and leaned against the wall, bringing the letter closer to her, needing the light from behind her shoulder. He wanted to lift his arm, tuck her into his side, have her lean on him while she listened.

Too dangerous.

He could almost recite the letter from memory, having gone over it a hundred times since its arrival. She needed to hear all the
words. He lifted a page and read.

“‘I’m sorry to place the responsibility of looking after Jo on you, Levi, but you know there’s no one else. You can get into a lot of trouble for what I’m asking, but my little girl needs your help and protection.

“‘Over the years, I mentioned that I should have died that day, but I hung on for Jolene. That of course is the truth, but I also yearned
for revenge. It should have been justice, but as a husband and father, I don’t try to fool myself.

“‘Four years ago you respected my wishes and introduced yourself as a friend. Since that time, the lie has become truth and I consider you family. By now you know I’ve pleaded with the Department of Justice to bring Jolene into the program. Jolene needs you. There’s evidence locked away in her
memories. And I’m afraid I made a horrible mistake allowing her to move away from us. Her memories are beginning to surface even if she doesn’t recognize them. You’re the only one I trust to take care of her.’”

When he looked up from the page, her palm was extended. He handed it over, as expected.

“So there’s nothing in your letter, either.”

“I have a second page,” he said, and
reached to the empty side of the berth for page two. He dreaded reading it to her. The short-lived camaraderie was about to end. She may explode, run, hate him. He’d believed the letter, believed in Joseph and believed in Jolene. She’d come around. She didn’t have to like him to accept his protection.

“‘If you’re receiving this note with your letter, Levi, it means we didn’t have a chance
to meet after my return. I’ve been too bold, too careless and exposed my Atkins identity to the wrong people. Perhaps I should have just called you, but I don’t trust anything any longer.

“‘My absences have been following recent information that finally led me to something solid. I’ve never stopped searching for those who destroyed my family. I’ve discovered why my wife’s testimony was such
a threat to her client. Her enemy is even more powerful after twenty years. I would turn over what I know to the Department of Justice now, but they refuse to help Jo. I had no choice but to return to Boulder. I hope she can forgive me.’”

He had to swallow, dreading the last paragraph.

“‘You can’t tell Jo until she’s safely in your care. I wish I could say everything I’ve done is only
so my daughter can have a real life, but it’s also for Elaine. Jo’s letter, let her share it with you when she’s ready. I hope you’ll respect my wishes. Thank you, my friend, and farewell.’”

The first page crumpled in her fist. He placed his hand over hers but she threw it off, jumping up, wrapping her arms around her slim waist.

“He...he was... Oh, my God. They murdered him. Why didn’t
you tell me? Tell anyone? What was he thinking?”

He’d been thinking like a friend, respecting the wishes of a man he admired. Not thinking like a U.S. Marshal. Deep down if he admitted the truth, he’d thought Joseph was a bit paranoid and he hadn’t believed the contents of his letter until the shot had been fired at the funeral.

“You should have told me.”

“You’re probably right.
Hand delivering the letter was a part of my instructions. Maybe not my smartest move. I trusted your dad. I should have trusted him more, not less. Turns out his suspicions were right.”

“This changes everything. Are they investigating the accident? No, not an accident—murder. Both of my parents were murdered.” She turned to all the walls, felt her clothes drying in the shower area, paced
back to the window and dropped her forehead against the glass. “Why can’t I remember anything?”

He stood so fast he clipped his shoulder on the top berth frame, a sting that couldn’t compare to what Jo must be feeling. Before he could reach out and try to take her in his arms she turned on him. Defenseless kitten into wild mountain cat.

“Why are you here? You’re the only person who knows
the truth. You should be investigating his murder, not babysitting me.” She shoved passed him—not far since the compartment wouldn’t allow it.

“I did check.” He knew this would happen. At least she wasn’t shouting. One of the reasons he’d wanted the train moving when she read the letter was to keep her by his side. “There was no indication of foul play. When I retrieved your father’s body,
I asked the local Sheriff’s Department to give the scene and car another onceover.”

“And?”

“I haven’t heard anything yet.”

“What is the Marshals Service doing?”

“They can’t do anything, Jolene.” That caged mountain cat was growing more edgy, rubbing her palms, tugging at the bottom of the T-shirt. “You can’t, either. Not here.”

She stopped, directly under his chin, looking
at his shirt.

“This is ridiculous, Levi. They received a letter. What did it say?” Her voice was calm again.

Level, but demanding. Her fingernail tapped on his chest like it normally did her chin. He wanted to grab her hand—not to stop the tapping, just because. There wasn’t a reason and that made it very unsafe to stop the tapping.

“Joseph said you were in danger and needed to
be protected.” He braced himself for a slap, shove, a reaction to his next words. “They considered it a last-ditch effort to get you in the program by a lonely dad.”

“They didn’t think it coincidental that he’d died?” She shoved at his chest and crossed to the compartment door. “And they aren’t concerned because I’m not legally their problem.”

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