Page 7 of Lone Star Witness

Or better known as a full bird. The rank emblem for a colonel in the United States Air Force.

“Shit,” he repeated.

Again, she had to agree. And she also had to tell him the rest. “As I was looking at the rat, I heard a car engine. It was Smith. He was in a white truck at the edge of the parking lot. The license plate was obscured with mud or something so I couldn’t jot that down. He shouted something before he drove off, and I made a memo of it for the detective.”

She went to her phone notes and showed him. As she’d expected, Slade cursed again.

Sleep with one eye open tonight, bitch. I’m coming for you and the colonel rat.

Marise didn’t want to feel the punch of dread and fear over rereading that. But she did. And she had to fight hard for those feelings not to sling her back to another time, another place.

Another situation where someone wanted her dead.

Slade had helped her through that, which was probably why her first instinct had been to call him. Well, it was one of the reasons she’d pressed his number. The other was she needed him to stop Colonel Rosa from being murdered.

And she had no doubts that Mr. Smith was capable of doing just that.

The muscles in Slade’s jaw seemed to be at war with each other, but he quickly reined in the internal fight and focused on her. “All right. Why do you think this dick is killing a rat and making threats?”

She’d anticipated the question and was ready. “While I was waiting for you, I made a list,” she admitted, and she tapped on that note so she could start reeling them off. “This guy could be connected to when Rosa and I were active duty. Maybe a mission that went wrong.”

Slade continued to stare at her. “Rosa and you never served together, did you?”

“No. And you and I didn’t work together when you were assigned to him.” Marise paused. “Since Smith was posing as Rosa’s wife’s lawyer, maybe it’s connected to her. Or to both him and his wife, and Smith included me in the threat because he thought it might get me to back off.”

“He clearly doesn’t know you,” Slade muttered. “You’ve never backed off from anything in your life. Not even that,” he added when she cut her gaze away from him.

Well, technically she had backed off from that incident. Years ago. Life-changing stuff. But she couldn’t deal with that now. She had to focus on Smith and Colonel Rosa, so she went on to the third and final thing she’d put in her notes.

“Smith’s threats could be because of something that happened here at the facility.” And to fill him in on that, she had to back up a few steps. “Shortly after the colonel came here, he befriended Wally Neville, a retired military special ops guy who was here recovering from injuries he got in a car accident. Wally and Rosa spent a lot of time together. A lot. And then yesterday, Wally abruptly left.”

“Why?”

“Wally wouldn’t say, but he seemed shaken up about something. He didn’t give me a chance to press him on it because he basically just came into my office, said he was leaving, and he went out the door. I couldn’t keep him,” she explained. “He was here voluntarily.”

Slade considered that for a moment and fired off another text. This was the beauty of him working for Maverick Ops. Slade had resources and the manpower behind him that local law enforcement didn’t.

“All right,” Slade said, standing from the exam table. “Let’s go talk to Rosa and see what he can tell us.”

He winced again when he reached for his shirt, causing Marise to step in front of him and get in his face. “I can drive you to the ER once we’re done here.”

“No need. I’m sure you fixed me up just fine.”

She wasn’t so sure of that at all. Yes, she’d mended the outside parts of him that she could, but it was the inside she was worried about. Particularly that gash on his head.

“You could have a concussion,” she pointed out, watching him struggle with the shirt.

She finally gave up and helped him. And touched him. Something she usually avoided. No way to avoid that now since she had her hands on his bare skin.

Yeah, there was a reason she usually avoided this.

Their friendship was strong, but Slade had a way of eliciting all kinds of urges that she didn’t want to feel. Not for him. Not for anyone. She was basically a walking, talking trainwreck, loaded with baggage.

So was Slade.

Trainwrecks, old baggage, and a much needed friendship weren’t a good mix.

That’s why she hurried with the shirt and then stepped back to check his expression. Hell’s Bells. For just a second, he looked at her as if she were a woman.

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