The Marshal's Hostage - By Delores Fossen Page 0,43

woman put her finger to her mouth in a stay-quiet gesture and closed Kirby’s door.

Later, Kirby would be another issue they’d have to handle. There was no way Dallas would let the man go to jail, and besides, he was too fragile for that anyway. That wouldn’t stop them from putting him under house arrest though, and Joelle made a mental note to contact a friend who specialized in criminal law. Dallas, Kirby and she might need someone like that before this was all over.

She dropped down onto the foot of the bed, kicked off the heels that were killing her feet and was contemplating what to do first—shower, eat, sleep.

Or cry.

There were so many emotions whirling inside her. Old memories that suddenly didn’t feel so old because of the kiss in Webb’s office. She couldn’t even berate herself for it or swear that it wouldn’t happen again because one of the big moments of a day filled with big moments was that she knew she wasn’t over Dallas.

Never had been.

And wishing things were different wasn’t going to make her feelings go away. Besides, Joelle wasn’t even sure she wanted things to be different. Not her feelings, anyway.

Speaking of the devil, she heard movement in the hall, lifted her head and spotted Dallas in the doorway. He’d obviously finished his phone call, and with his attention fastened to her, he propped his shoulder against the jamb. He stared at her but didn’t come closer.

“Feel up to coming into the kitchen?” he asked, his voice low. He tipped his head toward Kirby’s door. “Don’t want to wake him. And besides, you need to eat.”

She did. Her stomach was growling, and she agreed with the part about not waking Kirby. Still, it took a little effort for her to get off the bed. Joelle didn’t bother with her shoes. Barefoot, she just followed Dallas to the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. She didn’t think his expression was solely from the fatigue and the ordeal they’d just gone through.

He didn’t answer her right away. Dallas pulled out a glass dish of leftover spaghetti and meatballs and put it in the microwave. “Owen will be out of jail soon. His lawyer is already working on posting his bail.”

Joelle glanced at the time on the stove clock, groaned and sank down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “He spent only a few hours in a holding cell.”

Dallas lifted his shoulder. “He can afford good lawyers. And obviously bail. Besides, the charges weren’t as serious as they should have been. Only obstruction of justice and making a false statement about the fake knife that he turned over to the marshals.”

No attempted murder charge, but then it would have been hard to pin that on him. For now. However, Joelle could maybe get those white-collar crimes she’d uncovered to stick.

“What about the real knife, the one with your prints?” she asked.

“Owen has agreed to turn it over and claims he was only holding it back because he was afraid it would implicate you.”

What a snake. He was holding it back to blackmail them. “You’ll tell your boss the truth?”

Dallas nodded. “When the results are back. I’d like to delay the charges brought against us.”

Yes, and there would be charges. Joelle didn’t see a way around that.

“What about Kirby?” She hated to bring it up, but it was his DNA they’d found on the handkerchief, and the marshals would have to deal with that.

She silently cursed Owen for adding this stress to a man who could be on his deathbed.

“Saul’s going to wait on the handkerchief, too,” Dallas explained. His breath and expression were weary. “But after all the test results are in on the real knife, Saul will have no choice but to question Kirby. And maybe file charges,” he added in a mumble.

Yes. That meant they only had a couple of days at most to try to find the real killer. It might not get Dallas, Kirby and her out of hot water, but delivering a killer to the marshals would end the threats against them and maybe stop Kirby and Dallas from being arrested for murder.

And that brought her to another concern.

“Once the governor finds out that there’ll be charges brought against me, I seriously doubt he’ll give me permission to continue this investigation.”

Dallas looked back at her, the corner of his mouth lifting into a weary smile. “Guess you’ll have to go rogue like me. Because I’m not stopping until I clear