my lawyer present?” he goaded the ambitious, young Blackwoods County district attorney.
“I’m going to trace this back to you and add it to the other charges you’re going down for,” Ketchum threatened.
“Trace what back to me?”
“You’re behind the bounty,” Ketchum said. “You talked the governor into it!”
Jefferson chuckled. “You give me entirely too much credit. Do you really think I’d still be in here if the governor was taking my calls?”
Ketchum was the real master of manipulation; at the arraignment, he’d talked the judge into denying bail for Jefferson.
“Then you put your sleazy attorney up to it.”
Jefferson shrugged. “Prove it,” he challenged the man. “You won’t be able to do that any easier than you’ll be able to prove I ordered the murder of an undercover DEA agent, since your star witness is dead.”
Sheriff York stood beside Ketchum—two young men who were stupid and idealistic enough to believe they ruled this county. Jefferson nearly laughed again, but it was York who chuckled this time.
“Kleyn isn’t dead,” the sheriff said.
He shrugged again—unconcerned because they were entirely too concerned. “You have him in protective custody then?”
“Not yet,” York admitted.
“Then you better get him there soon,” he spoke to Ketchum, “or you’re going to lose that star witness for sure—what with every law-enforcement officer and bounty hunter in this state and probably most of the surrounding ones gunning for him.”
Ketchum’s gaze slid from his to the sheriff. “He’s right. You better find him first.”
Jefferson was enjoying this visit immensely. It was good for these young fools to know who really had all the power. “And, since you don’t know where he is, I feel compelled to point out that you don’t know for certain if he’s still alive.”
“Thanks to that bounty we know,” Ketchum replied. “If he was dead, someone would have tried to claim it.”
Jefferson nodded. “True. Unless the person Kleyn’s in the most danger from has no use for the bounty. If that convict is actually as innocent as he claims and the DEA agent believes he is, then there’s someone who wants him dead even more…”
“Than you do?”
He chuckled at Ketchum’s weak attempt to trap him. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” he warned the man. Then he turned to the sheriff. “And so are you if you want to bring that escapee back alive.”
“You should have figured out by now that the man isn’t easy to kill,” York reminded him. “Your fellow guards have already told us that you ordered his murder after the prison doctor’s. But then the riot broke out.”
And everything had gone to hell. Because of Jedidiah Kleyn. Now it was his turn to go to hell.
Chapter Nine
In tight fists, Jed gripped the steering wheel of Erica’s van. He had to stay in control. For so many reasons…
The most important one slept in her car seat in the back. He glanced into the rearview mirror at the reflection of her peaceful face. Since he’d met her, he had spent a lot of time watching Isobel sleep.
Then he turned toward the woman who sat in the passenger seat beside him. She had not slept at all the previous night, and from the tension gripping her body and beautiful face, she would not sleep anytime soon.
She was another reason for him to stay in control. The other was the authorities they had barely escaped, passing the patrol cars minutes before they would have pulled up to her building.
He had to stay calm and keep his wits about him because not only would the police be after him now, but so would every bounty hunter and civilian who wanted to collect the reward for his head.
Just being with him was putting Erica and Isobel in danger, too. He drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the answer to the question he had to ask her. “Why did you agree to leave with me?”
Erica turned toward the backseat and their sleeping daughter. “Mrs. Osborn will tell
“I’m going to trace this back to you and add it to the other charges you’re going down for,” Ketchum threatened.
“Trace what back to me?”
“You’re behind the bounty,” Ketchum said. “You talked the governor into it!”
Jefferson chuckled. “You give me entirely too much credit. Do you really think I’d still be in here if the governor was taking my calls?”
Ketchum was the real master of manipulation; at the arraignment, he’d talked the judge into denying bail for Jefferson.
“Then you put your sleazy attorney up to it.”
Jefferson shrugged. “Prove it,” he challenged the man. “You won’t be able to do that any easier than you’ll be able to prove I ordered the murder of an undercover DEA agent, since your star witness is dead.”
Sheriff York stood beside Ketchum—two young men who were stupid and idealistic enough to believe they ruled this county. Jefferson nearly laughed again, but it was York who chuckled this time.
“Kleyn isn’t dead,” the sheriff said.
He shrugged again—unconcerned because they were entirely too concerned. “You have him in protective custody then?”
“Not yet,” York admitted.
“Then you better get him there soon,” he spoke to Ketchum, “or you’re going to lose that star witness for sure—what with every law-enforcement officer and bounty hunter in this state and probably most of the surrounding ones gunning for him.”
Ketchum’s gaze slid from his to the sheriff. “He’s right. You better find him first.”
Jefferson was enjoying this visit immensely. It was good for these young fools to know who really had all the power. “And, since you don’t know where he is, I feel compelled to point out that you don’t know for certain if he’s still alive.”
“Thanks to that bounty we know,” Ketchum replied. “If he was dead, someone would have tried to claim it.”
Jefferson nodded. “True. Unless the person Kleyn’s in the most danger from has no use for the bounty. If that convict is actually as innocent as he claims and the DEA agent believes he is, then there’s someone who wants him dead even more…”
“Than you do?”
He chuckled at Ketchum’s weak attempt to trap him. “You’re going to have to do better than that,” he warned the man. Then he turned to the sheriff. “And so are you if you want to bring that escapee back alive.”
“You should have figured out by now that the man isn’t easy to kill,” York reminded him. “Your fellow guards have already told us that you ordered his murder after the prison doctor’s. But then the riot broke out.”
And everything had gone to hell. Because of Jedidiah Kleyn. Now it was his turn to go to hell.
Chapter Nine
In tight fists, Jed gripped the steering wheel of Erica’s van. He had to stay in control. For so many reasons…
The most important one slept in her car seat in the back. He glanced into the rearview mirror at the reflection of her peaceful face. Since he’d met her, he had spent a lot of time watching Isobel sleep.
Then he turned toward the woman who sat in the passenger seat beside him. She had not slept at all the previous night, and from the tension gripping her body and beautiful face, she would not sleep anytime soon.
She was another reason for him to stay in control. The other was the authorities they had barely escaped, passing the patrol cars minutes before they would have pulled up to her building.
He had to stay calm and keep his wits about him because not only would the police be after him now, but so would every bounty hunter and civilian who wanted to collect the reward for his head.
Just being with him was putting Erica and Isobel in danger, too. He drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for the answer to the question he had to ask her. “Why did you agree to leave with me?”
Erica turned toward the backseat and their sleeping daughter. “Mrs. Osborn will tell
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