Sanctuary Deceived WITSEC Town Series Book 4 Read online

  Sanctuary Deceived

  WITSEC Town Series

  Book 4

  Lisa Phillips

  Copyright 2016 Lisa Phillips

  All rights reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, is entirely coincidental. Any references to real people, historical events, or locales, are used fictitiously.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form without written permission from the author, except for review purposes.

  Cover art by Blue Azalea Designs

  Photos from Shutterstock

  Also By Lisa Phillips

  Love Inspired Suspense

  Double Agent

  Star Witness

  Manhunt

  Easy Prey

  Sudden Recall

  Dead End

  Security Detail

  Coming soon in 2017 – Homefront Defenders, Yuletide Suspect

  Denver FBI

  Target (A prequel story)

  Bait

  Coming soon in 2017 - Prey

  WITSEC Town Series

  Sanctuary Lost (Bk 1)

  Sanctuary Buried (Bk 2)

  Sanctuary Hidden (Bk 2.5, part of the Team Love on the Run anthology #1)

  Sanctuary Breached (Bk 3)

  A Sanctuary Christmas Tale

  Sanctuary Deceived (Bk 4)

  Sanctuary Forever (Bk 5)

  Prologue

  From the book, SANCTUARY BREACHED

  Through a haze of pain, Bolton understood they had carried him upstairs. The whomp of the helicopter’s rotors grew louder, and then he saw them. Bolton gritted his teeth as they slid him inside.

  “Bolton.” Remy came to sit beside him. Something was wrong with her face.

  Nadia Marie was on his other side, biting her lip. He grabbed her hand. “Did John authorize your leaving Sanctuary?”

  She shook her head. “This is an emergency. You know that.”

  Remy piped up. “John is being stitched up. That horrible SEAL who betrayed Sam and killed his team stabbed John in the chest.” There was an edge to her voice. Either she was more worried about him than ever, or something more was wrong.

  Bolton tried to sit up. Remy and Nadia both pushed back against his shoulders. “Don’t get up.” Remy started to turn him. “I’ll give you another shot.”

  He heard a plastic latch click and a packet being ripped open. There was a burn in his low back, and within seconds, numbness spread through the area. “Thanks, Rem.”

  She smiled, but there was none of her usual pragmatic manner in it. She was really worried.

  “Help me up.”

  Neither said anything. They shared a look but helped him to sit. If he kept straight and moved slow he should be okay. He wasn’t sure he’d exactly be able to walk if it came down to it, but it was possible. Anything was possible. He of all people knew that. When God had turned his life down a sharp detour, he’d learned what miracles were. And even through all he’d lost, Bolton could see the good.

  Until they found out who he really was. Then his miracle would be finished.

  He glanced at the pilot, his beanie pulled low and earphones pushed off the ear closest to them so he could hear.

  The medical kit Remy was using. A silver suitcase.

  His head whipped around to her.

  Nadia said, “What?”

  Bolton ignored her. Until Remy lifted her eyes and gave him a tiny nod. Bolton said, “Nothing. Just a twinge in my back.”

  Remy patted his shoulder. “That’s to be expected. As soon as we get to a medical facility I’ll contact my colleague, and we’ll find out about that experimental treatment I was researching.” Her voice quavered.

  Bolton glanced at the pilot once more. When he looked back at Remy, she nodded.

  If that was Tommy, there wasn’t much Bolton could do considering the man was trained. Bolton had as much if not more skill in hand-to-hand when he wasn’t suffering from a detrimental spinal injury that was going to leave him irreparably paralyzed if he so much as twitched at this point.

  If that experimental procedure even remotely worked he was going to high-tail it back to Sanctuary as soon as he could to repay Andy the favor. Although he wasn’t going to use a chair. And Andy was going to see this coming.

  Nadia Marie glanced between them. “Experimental procedure?”

  Remy explained the idea, while Bolton lay helpless. There was nothing in his general vicinity.

  The helicopter dipped on a wind current.

  Nadia Marie’s eyes caught his. “Seriously?”

  Bolton shrugged with his face—which is what he had to do, since he couldn’t move his torso. “The alternative is living paralyzed.”

  “It’s hardly a death sentence.”

  He looked away. She was right, but it wasn’t like he had to accept it. This was his life they were talking about. As much as he might want her to be a part of it—and she seemed to think that was an option—at some point he was going to have to tell her the truth.

  The helicopter began to descend.

  Bolton reached under the collar of his T-shirt and pulled out the delicate gold chain. He twisted it so the clasp was at the front and looked at Nadia. “Take this off me.”

  He’d had it constructed years ago, for someone very close to him. It was a distinctly feminine piece of jewelry, and that fact did not escape Nadia.

  Bolton didn’t explain.

  When she had a right to know, he would tell her.

  The helicopter bumped the ground once and then settled. Bolton handed the chain to Remy. “Put this in your pocket. Don’t lose it.”

  The pilot got up and turned to them. “Okay, folks. End of the line.”

  Nadia looked out the window. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

  Bolton pulled her down as Tommy brought up the gun. She screamed. Remy whimpered, and Bolton held up one hand. “No one has to die.”

  Tommy grabbed the suitcase and pointed the gun at Remy. This was what he’d figured would happen. Bolton did his best to look helpless—and like Nadia was attached to him. He didn’t want her being taken as collateral damage. He’d need her to help him to a phone.

  Tommy pointed the gun at the door. “Outside.”

  Remy glanced at Bolton long enough for him to nod. She pulled on the door handle, and Tommy followed her out.

  Bolton couldn’t see them from that angle, and he couldn’t twist to get a view without doing damage. Nadia’s eyes were on the door. After a few seconds, tension bled from her face. “He looked back. I thought he was going to kill us.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “I don’t know why. We’ve seen his face.”

  Bolton didn’t know if he could answer that question. “He has what he wanted. What he came to Sanctuary for.”

  Had it been him, Bolton would have killed them for sure.

  “I suppose.” She bit her lip. “I guess God knew we didn’t need this day to get any worse.”

  He smiled. “You’ll have to help me. We need to find a phone, and who knows how many miles it is to the nearest one.”

  Nadia blinked. “Oh…okay.”

  She helped him to the edge of the chopper in time to see a highway thirty feet from them. A van had pulled over. Remy got in, followed by Tommy. The SEAL looked back and waved.

  “Help me get out.” He didn’t like this. Sure, they had no phones and he was injured, and they had no way of knowing where he was taking Remy. That Tommy knew of, at least.

  Still…

  “Hurry.”

&n
bsp; He crawled to the edge, and she helped hold up his weight as they made their way across grass. Ten steps. Twelve.

  “Faster.”

  The helicopter exploded behind them.

  Chapter 1

  The fireball rushed toward the clouds. The wave of flames roiled and turned black, lacing the air with smoke. Bolton Farrera shielded his eyes as pain screamed from his low spine down to his knees. Smoke billowed from the wreckage of the helicopter that he’d barely crawled out of before it exploded.

  Not good.

  He turned his head one way and then the other. Nadia Marie lay on her side, facing away from him. Nadia. She looked a little singed but otherwise okay, except for the fact she was unconscious. Sun shone on her hair and made the brown strands lighten. She was out of reach.

  Same old story. The miracle he could never claim.

  Bolton lay back on the grass and tried to push the pain to a corner of his mind. He had to get help, get to a phone, something. He needed Nadia to wake up. He needed to be able to walk.

  Truck tires squealed. A heavy door slammed, and a man ran over, keys jingling. White cowboy hat and the face of someone’s grandpa, complete with gray stubble.

  His knees popped, but he hit the grass beside Bolton. “Are you okay?” Grandpa-guy unclipped a cell phone from his belt and touched the screen. “I’ll call the sheriff.”

  Bolton grabbed the phone.

  The man sputtered. “Hey!”

  Bolton fisted his right hand and clocked Grandpa in the jaw. The old man fell back in a heap, out cold. Bolton dialed, praying the number still worked after so many years.

  “Pablo’s Pizza.”

  “It’s Bolton Farrera. Tell Ben I activated Thea’s necklace. He’ll be able to use it to find Remy.”

  “Please hold.”

  Bolton pitched the phone into the flaming wreckage of the helicopter. No trace. He couldn’t afford to let anyone find him and Nadia—at least not until he wanted them to.

  He’d activated the necklace to save Remy, but it wouldn’t escape the notice of whoever was left hunting him. And he knew Dante was still breathing. That he still hated Bolton with everything in him.

  Remy’s life.

  His life.

  Bolton would do everything he could to keep himself and Nadia under the radar of whoever cared to look.

  He didn’t try to sit up but shifted and reached for Nadia Marie. Bolton gave her shoulder a gentle shake. They had only each other now. They weren’t in Sanctuary anymore, protected by the US Marshals Service in what was their first and only witness protection town. In Sanctuary every resident had a price on their head, and yet they lived in safety because of the strictures placed on them.

  He glanced at her again. It made his heart squeeze every time.

  He knew exactly why she’d gotten in that helicopter: him. Her feelings weren’t hard to figure out, and he’d been floored that she’d feel that way about him. But that was Sanctuary. Out here, this was the real world, and she didn’t know who he was. Only who he’d been in witness protection.

  Nadia Marie moaned and shifted.

  Flashing blue and red lights. Bolton lifted his head. A cop car.

  “Nadia?” He shoved at her shoulder and tried to sit up. It hurt, and he had to come up without bending his spine too much. He probably looked like the vampire, Lestat, emerging from his slumber. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but that would help his story so he didn’t wipe it away.

  Bolton shifted closer to her.

  The sheriff strode over, and for a second Bolton thought it was John Mason. Except Sheriff Mason was a marshal, not an elected official. John wore jeans, unlike the beige sheriff’s uniform this man wore. The local law surveyed the unconscious grandpa, the rousing woman, Bolton, and the helicopter wreckage. His gaze came back to Bolton. “This is going to be good. I can tell.”

  Bolton had been charming cops since he’d boosted that car on his fourteenth birthday. “It’s been a rough day.”

  “I can tell that, too.”

  “You wanna know the kicker?”

  The sheriff motioned to the grandpa. “Besides why my friend here looks like he got punched in the jaw?”

  Yep.

  “My wheelchair was on that chopper.”

  The sheriff’s head actually jerked. Surprise. “Ambulance is on its way. You can’t walk at all?”

  He didn’t have a wheelchair, but he needed one now. Bolton glanced down at his singed chambray shirt, new black Wranglers, and black boots. “Don’t suppose my hat is around here somewhere?”

  The sheriff stepped past him and retrieved the black Stetson Bolton had worn every day for years. The hat fit the clothes, and the sheriff would put the two together and decide for himself the kind of man Bolton was. Whether that would be true or not. Bolton had to keep Nadia Marie safe until she could figure out her next move, but Bolton didn’t have that luxury.

  The threat was real.

  Nadia Marie’s eyes flickered, and she groaned.

  “Marie.” Bolton reached for her, ran his hand down the back of her head. Not how he’d dreamed of touching her for so long. “You okay, Marie?”

  She blinked. Frowned at him but must have seen it in his face, because she played along. “You know I hate when you call me by my given name.”

  “Great.” The sheriff crouched. “This is Marie, and you are?”

  Bolton stuck out his hand. “Steven Jones.” John Smith was a little too obvious. “Marie is my wife.”

  The sheriff checked Grandpa’s pulse. “And what happened to my friend here?”

  “It was a reflex, I’m sorry to say. He rushed at me, and I didn’t realize until too late that it was innocent. He thought we were hurt. But the helicopter had just exploded, and I was on edge. Sorry to say I hit him.” Bolton tried to look like he felt guilty.

  Nadia Marie climbed to her feet. “You need help, honey?”

  The endearment sliced through him like a razor blade. Thea had called him honey. Right before she’d stabbed him in the back.

  Bolton nodded. It was possible he might have been able to take a few steps, but the sheriff would see him as less of a threat this way. The ambulance showed up, and they loaded Bolton onto a stretcher. He didn’t like lying there, but it was the fastest way out. The grandpa-rancher likely wouldn’t buy it when the sheriff told him Bolton had said the punch was an accident. But by then they’d hopefully be long gone.

  No wheelchair materialized at the small hospital. Instead, they transferred him to a bed. Did they think they were going to run tests on him? When the nurse came over, he grabbed Nadia Marie’s hand and pulled her to sit by him on the bed. He surveyed her face. “Are you okay? You didn’t fall funny or hit your head?”

  She started to shake her head, but he gently squeezed the back of her neck. “Actually, I do feel sort of dizzy.”

  “I’ll go tell the doctor.” The nurse ran out.

  Finally, they were alone.

  “Nad—”

  “What was that?” She got off the bed and moved so he couldn’t reach her. “You’re lying to them. You didn’t really punch that old man, did you?”

  Bolton didn’t answer that. “We have no ID’s, no money. No phones. We have nothing but the clothes we’re wearing and I’m injured.”

  She touched a hand to her forehead, and then ran both hands through her long hair. “Why do we have to lie about who we are?”

  “Maybe because we’re in witness protection?”

  “You don’t have to talk to me like that.” She shot him a look. “The sheriff can call the closest Marshals office. They can contact Grant Mason. He’s the director of the whole Marshals Service! He’ll send someone to get us.”

  Bolton shook his head. She was going to freak out and expose them both. “We have to get safe first. It’s too risky to do that right now—from here.”

  “We have to call someone, first!”

  Bolton moved his legs off the left side of the bed so his back was to her, and he
lifted the back of his shirt. “This is what happened the last time I called for help.”

  He knew what she saw. Angry redness. Scar tissue from the burns surrounding an injury that cut across his spine. She might have even touched the tips of her fingers to it, but he couldn’t feel anything. The whole area was void of sensation. His spine was a ticking time bomb. One he was supposed to have gotten fixed tomorrow.

  The helicopter should have taken them away from the wreckage of town, toward a military hospital where he could have received the medical treatment he badly needed. Experimental surgery from some cutting edge doctor.

  Bolton lowered his shirt.

  “What do we do?”

  He waved her around to his side of the bed. She looked so lost it made him want to reach for her again. But that wasn’t going to solve anything. Whatever feelings he might have had for her, those were things the Bolton who was in Sanctuary had allowed himself to have. Now that he was out of the protection of their town, it was impossible.

  His testimony had put Dante Alvarez in federal prison, and the minute Bolton surfaced, he’d be hunted. It was a given. The man would hunt him until Bolton either disappeared, or Dante killed him. The only advantage he had was that Dante would be looking for one guy, not a man in a wheelchair, travelling with a woman. But the man still had plenty of friends, ones who would shoot first and check Bolton’s ID after.

  It was only a matter of time before someone showed up with intent to kill.

  **

  Nadia stared at him. Her body ached where she’d landed on the hard ground. She could barely make sense of any of this, let alone figure out Bolton’s plan. It was like he was playing a part. Surely they could call someone, couldn’t they? “We need a phone.”

  Bolton shrugged. “Do you know the number to John’s satellite phone?”

  The Sanctuary sheriff was her best friend’s husband, and the only person in town with a phone that dialed outside town. The rest only worked internally. And the only way for the residents to communicate with the outside world was during the one hour of internet access they got each week at the library.