Page 14 of Targeted in Silver Creek

Again, she went through the mental repeat, but Hanna could already feel the slam of emotions crashing into her. Emotions that came with one huge question—was all of this true? Since she didn’t have any real memories of the shooting, Hanna had had to rely on other people’s accounts. She so wished she knew what had actually gone on in those trees because she believed with all her heart that it was now coming back to haunt them.

Or kill them.

“If Bull’s really an agent, why’d he end up in jail?” Jesse demanded. Obviously, he was considering the truth of this, too.

Shaw sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Since plenty of the militia members were in that same prison, Bull thought he’d be able to find out the name of the leader.”

“So, why would Bull escape if he’s in such a great position to get intel?” Jesse demanded.

“Because someone ordered a hit on him. I don’t know who,” Shaw immediately added. “But from the short phone conversation I’ve had with Bull, he believed his life was in grave danger. Yours, too. Bull heard talk that somebody was going after you because you haven’t given up on investigating the militia.”

Jesse cursed. “Hell no, I haven’t given up. That militia was responsible for Hanna and my son nearly being killed. I won’t give up until every last one of them is behind bars.”

Shaw looked him straight in the eyes. “And that’s why you’re a target.”

Oh, mercy.A target. So, Jesse was probably right about the fire in her studio being set to draw him out. The same person might use Evan or her to try to get him, too.

Jesse must have heard the soft gasp she made because he automatically ran his hand down the length of her arm. “It’s okay,” he murmured to her. “Just breathe.”

He was soothing her. Or rather, trying to do that. Hanna did as he said and breathed, forcing herself to stay level. Focusing in an effort to rein in the panic. She wouldn’t get any answers if she lost the battle with the panic right now.

“Who put the hit on Jesse?” she asked the agent, and she managed to add some steel to her voice.

“I don’t know, and I haven’t been able to have a face-to-face conversation with Bull.”

“Why the hell not?” Jesse protested. “If he’s really an agent, why wouldn’t he go straight to you or somebody else in the ATF?”

This time Shaw wasn’t quite so quick to answer and he glanced away when he spoke. “Bull says he’s not sure who to trust. He thinks he’ll be gunned down if he comes out in the open. We got a lot of the suppliers for both the guns and the drugs, a lot of the militia members, too. But we still don’t know who’s running the operation.”

“Arnie?” Jesse suggested.

Shaw’s headshake was fast and firm. “No. He didn’t have the brains for it.”

“Certainly, you have suspects then,” Jesse said on a huff.

“We do, but so far none of them have panned out. That’s why Bull insisted the way to learn the truth was from the other militia members who’d already been arrested. We know the operation has continued, so somebody sure as hell is still running it.”

“Somebody,” Jesse repeated in a cop’s tone. He put his hands on his hips and kept his hard stare pinned to the agent. “You’re so certain that Bull is clean and has been telling you the truth about the militia?”

Hanna expected Shaw to issue a firm yes in response to Jesse’s question. He didn’t. Shaw stood there and muttered something she wasn’t able to catch.

“No,” Shaw finally said. “I can’t be positive that he’s clean.”

Sweet heaven. So it was possible there was a rogue agent out to murder Jesse. Probably her, too, since he couldn’t be sure how much she had, or would, remember.

“Here’s what I know,” Shaw finally went on. “The ATF didn’t sanction Bull’s escape, and he’s refused to come in and talk to me or anyone else in the agency.”

“Maybe because he doesn’t trust you,” Mason quickly pointed out. “Maybe because he knows you’re the dirty agent he can’t trust.”

Shaw didn’t jump to deny that, either, but the anger flared in his eyes. “I’m not dirty. But Bull might believe I am. He might think I’m looking for a scapegoat. I’m not,” he assured him. “I’m looking for the truth.”

“The truth,” Jesse grumbled. “And what exactly would that be? Why would Bull suddenly not be trusting his own agency?”

Again, Shaw paused and, judging from the way his jaw muscles were flexing, he was having a battle with himself as to what to say. Or not say.

“I think Bull stopped cooperating with the ATF and me because I got word to him that we have a new suspect,” Shaw finally explained. “A suspect he might believe is innocent.”

“That scapegoat you mentioned—” Jesse spat out the words “—who is it? Give me a name.”

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