In The Lawman's Protection. Janie Crouch

In The Lawman's Protection - Janie Crouch


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couldn’t hold her anymore and the guy helped lower her to a sitting position on the floor leaning back against the wall next to the door. Both he and the woman took advantage of Natalie’s moment of weakness to enter the house, closing the door behind them.

      “You shouldn’t be here,” Natalie said again. “This isn’t my house.”

      The two people looked at each other, the man giving the woman a slight nod. Some sort of secret agent code, for sure. Then they both looked back at her, squatting down so they were closer to her, eye to eye.

      “I’m Andrea,” the woman said. “And this is my husband, Brandon.”

      No last names. No credentials. Natalie didn’t want to push, but at least they weren’t reading her her Miranda rights.

      Of course, the afternoon was still young.

      “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well,” Natalie finally responded. “I appreciate your help, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Like I said, this isn’t my house and I had express instructions that I wasn’t to have anyone else here while the owners are away.”

      “Just let us help you get over to the couch,” the man, Brandon, said. “Just to make sure you’re okay.”

      If that would get them to leave, then great. “Fine.”

      She took the hands both of them outstretched and rose. They walked her over to the couch, and she sat back down, feeling the shirt and pants she’d thrown over it rub against her back.

      “Thanks. If you guys don’t mind seeing yourselves out, that would be great.” Natalie would be seeing herself out as soon as they were gone.

      Out of the entire state.

      “It’s obvious you don’t want to talk to us,” Andrea said, taking a seat in the chair across from Natalie, much to her dismay. “We’d just like you to listen for a few minutes.”

      What could she do? Natalie nodded slowly.

      “We’re trying to find Damien Freihof,” Brandon said, coming to stand next to his wife, still staying within a protective reach.

      Natalie fought not to blanch, not to give anything away, when it was all she could do not to bolt. “I’m sorry. I think you have mistaken me for someone else.”

      It was just as flimsy the third time, but it was all she had—hanging on to the possibility that they weren’t exactly sure who she was. Although the wedding picture was pretty damning.

      But at least if they were looking for Damien, they hadn’t been sent by him.

      “Falsifying a death report is illegal,” Brandon continued, but then stopped with just the slightest touch on his arm by Andrea.

      Just a single touch. What would it be like to have someone respect you and care for you so much that the touch of fingertips communicated something both ways? Something Brandon obviously respected.

      Natalie had never had that in her entire life.

      “It’s imperative that we find Damien Freihof,” Andrea said. “Lives are at stake.”

      Natalie just stared. She couldn’t help them even if she wanted to. She’d known better than to keep tabs on Damien—the man was near genius with a computer. He would’ve found out.

      She shrugged. “I can’t help you.”

      “Maybe we can help you,” Andrea continued. “Keep you safe, if that’s part of your concerns.”

      Natalie just shrugged again.

      “We’re talking about more than just Brandon and me, of course,” Andrea continued. “An entire team. A very strong group of people who would help you.”

      For just a second Natalie wanted to cave, to find out more, to trust someone so she wouldn’t have to live in fear all the time. But she squashed it down. She couldn’t trust anyone. All she could do was run.

      Because the truth was, if these people had found her, Damien could, too. She needed to get them out of here.

      “Look, I’m sorry. I know I look a lot like that woman in the picture. Quite the doppelgänger.” She gave a laugh that sounded fake even to her own ears. “But that’s not me. I can see how you would think that it is, but it’s just not. I’ve never been married.”

      She stood up and walked toward the massive kitchen that was open to the living room, gripping the island to try to steady herself. “I don’t want to be rude, but I’ve got appointments and stuff scheduled for this afternoon. So I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

      What was she going to do if they didn’t leave? Threaten to call the police? Natalie wasn’t capable of that kind of bluff.

      “Falsifying your own death is illegal,” Brandon said again. Natalie just stared at him unflinchingly.

      Her choice had been between faking her own death or eventually ending up actually dead. She had no doubt the course she’d been on with Damien would’ve led to her eventual death.

      So no matter how crappy her life was now, how many jobs she had to work to survive, how many sticky notes she had to put on windows to convince herself she was safe and how accusingly this law enforcement agent looked at her now...she’d definitely made the right choice.

      “I’m sure it is, Officer...”

      The two looked at each other again, secret agent code with some husband/wife telepathy thrown in. They got up and walked closer to her in the kitchen, where she was filling a cup with water from the tap.

      “My name is Brandon Han,” he finally said. “I’m an agent with Omega Sector’s Critical Response Division.”

      They were both staring at her as if this would cause some big reaction. Natalie had no idea what they were talking about. She’d never heard of Omega Sector and wasn’t about to ask any questions.

      They were cops. They could bring to light the fact that she was still alive, if they hadn’t already. And maybe she might do a year or two in prison for faking her death, but that would be nothing compared to what she would face after she got out.

      “Okay, Agent Han. I’m still not who you think I am. I’m sorry I can’t help you. But I’m still going to need to ask you to leave.”

      “Omega Sector can protect you,” Agent Han continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “We can make sure the slate is wiped clean. No jail time for you for falsifying. If there is something else, we can maybe make a deal for that, too.”

      Something else? What the hell else illegal did they think she’d done? Maybe they were talking about taxes or something. That could add up to more jail time.

      Which would still be safer than being out on the streets if Damien knew she was alive. God, she had to get out of here. The panic was crawling all over her body, slimy and slick. She couldn’t get rid of it. Just needed to get out of here. Right. Now.

      “Please go.” She forced the hoarse words past her throat and nearly buckled in relief when they turned toward the door without further argument. Brandon reached into his pocket and grabbed a card. Natalie took it, although she never planned to even so much as glance at it again.

      “Call us if anything changes,” Brandon said as Natalie opened the door and allowed them to walk through. “Anything. At any time. And especially if you happen to see Damien Freihof. And remember, the earlier you get us information, the better it will go for you. Deals for keeping you out of prison are only good when they help both sides.”

      “I’m still not your person. Sorry.” She smiled in as friendly a manner as she could manage.

      She was closing the door behind them when at the very last second Andrea stopped her with a hand on the door. It was only open a crack and Natalie had stepped behind it so she couldn’t see them. She considered just shutting it


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