The Escape Read online

  Jonas took a long look at his new boss. The man had aged since he’d seen him last. His hair was now completely gray and there were signs of a slight paunch around the middle. But Carl Michaels wasn’t the only one who’d exchanged a “normal life” for a high-stress career. As satisfying as the job was, law enforcement came with a long list of unavoidable stressors.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Glenda said, pulling Jonas back into the present, “because breakfast is ready.”

  “I am, and from the smells of whatever you’re cooking, I know I’m not going to be disappointed.”

  “I hope not.” Glenda signaled for him to follow her through the living room that was exactly as he remembered with its vintage decor that highlighted her love of antiques. “I thought we’d eat on the balcony. I made smoked salmon eggs Benedict and roasted red potatoes. Favorites of yours if I remember correctly.”

  Jonas grinned. “Why do you think I took this job? I understood that your cooking was part of the deal.”

  “Ah, so now the truth comes out.” Glenda laughed. “Well, we’re glad to have you back. And I know your mother’s happy as well. The two of you go make yourselves comfortable outside. I’ll be out there in just a second with the rest of the food.”

  Jonas followed Michaels out to the balcony with its stunning panorama of the Space Needle and Elliott Bay in the distance.

  “I never get tired of this view,” Michaels said. “Moving here is going to do you good.”

  “I think so, though that will all depend on how much time off my boss will give me. I hear he’s a slave driver.”

  Michaels chuckled as he poured orange juice from a pitcher into three glasses. He handed a glass to Jonas. “Hopefully, he won’t be that bad.”

  Glenda returned with the food and a minute later, they’d said a prayer and were filling up their plates with the smoked salmon smothered in hollandaise sauce, roasted potatoes, and berries. Jonas couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal.

  He took a bite of the salmon. “This is delicious.”

  “I figured you could use a bit of fattening up after living as a bachelor for so long.” Glenda’s smile faded. “I know the past couple years have been tough. Carl told me about that fugitive arrest that went south.”

  Jonas attempted to shrug off her concern as he dug into the food, but if he closed his eyes, he could still replay every moment of that day.

  “Any lingering physical effects?” Glenda asked.

  “I have some limited nerve damage in my arm from the bullet, but therapy has helped.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. And on a lighter note, what about your move here?” she asked. “Feeling settled at all?”

  “I’m almost unpacked. Carl gave me a couple days before I start working. This move has been a long time in coming, but for one reason or another has never seemed right until now.”

  “I know I’ve been working for years to get you to return,” Michaels said.

  “So has my mother.”

  Glenda filled up his half-empty orange juice glass. “Where are you living?”

  “For now in a studio apartment that my mom owns not too far from here. She’s been renting it out for years and it happened to come up vacant just when I needed a place. I’m planning to live there until I can decide if I want to rent or buy, and in the meantime, I’ll give it a fresh coat of paint and a few upgrades.”

  Glenda’s brow rose. “Still not ready to buy a house and settle down?”

  “I’d like to say this is my last move, but time will tell,” he said.

  Flexibility had allowed him to focus on a career that took him from the courthouse to training fugitive task forces across the country. He loved the constant change in scenery, and the rush of adrenaline that kept him on his toes.

  “Have you been out to visit your mother since you’ve been back?”

  Jonas stabbed another bite of fish and sauce. “I’m planning to head to Bellevue to see her over the weekend.”

  “It’s hard to believe it’s been almost three decades since your father and I were beat cops together here in Seattle,” said Michaels.

  “It is.” Jonas nodded. “I miss him.”

  “I miss him too. He was a good man.”

  There wasn’t a day that went by when Jonas didn’t think about his father and the heart attack that had taken him away too soon. His dad had joined the police force right out of college. Michaels joined a couple years later. Eventually, both men joined the US Marshals. Jonas was seven when he decided he was going to follow in his father’s footsteps, and he’d never looked back.

  Michaels’s gaze shifted past Jonas toward the water. “And now, I’m about to celebrate twenty years as a US Marshal. It’s hard to believe.”

  “Speaking of celebrations,” Glenda said, “I’m helping to plan our church’s twenty-fifth anniversary party in a couple weeks. It might be a nice way for you to meet a few people. The city’s changed significantly over the past ten years, and I’m sure you don’t know very many people anymore.”

  “Glenda . . .”

  Jonas caught Michaels’s warning glance at his wife. “Am I missing something?”

  Michaels turned toward him. “Let’s just say my wife likes to play matchmaker, and our very single niece will be there—”

  “It was just a thought.” Glenda held up her hands in defeat. “When you’re new to a city, a few friends can only help.”

  Jonas shifted in his seat. “I’ll be honest. The last thing I’m interested in right now is dating. I’m here to work, and I’m pretty sure there will be plenty of it.”

  “Yes, but you have to do more than work,” she said. “You need a social life.”

  Jonas frowned. Eighteen months should have been long enough to move on from Felicia, but he’d found it impossible to take that first step.

  Glenda pushed her chair back. “I forgot I have a pot of coffee brewing if you’d like some.”

  “I would,” Jonas said. “Thank you.”

  She stood up and headed back inside. “Though I still say you need a social life.”

  “I’m sorry.” Michaels set his fork down and leaned forward as soon as Glenda had stepped inside the condo. “My wife doesn’t know the details of what happened.”

  “Forget about it. She’s like my mother. Wants to make sure I’m okay. I can understand that.”

  “Do you ever talk to Felicia?” Michaels asked.

  “She made it clear that things were over between us a long time ago.”

  Michaels nodded. “I remember meeting her one time when she was up here visiting her grandmother. She was a good deputy marshal.”

  “She was.” And at one time, she’d been the woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with. But one pivotal moment had changed all of that.

  Michaels’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Sorry. I need to take this.”

  Jonas finished his last few bites while Michaels took the call.

  “Is everything okay?” Jonas asked a moment later when the older man came back to the table.

  “Actually, no.” Michaels set the phone on the table. “You told me you wanted to hit the ground running. We’ve got a transport leaving in an hour, and I need you on it. Two felons, both in for murder, are being expedited back to Denver. We need these guys put away, though if you need more time off—”

  “No, honestly, I meant it when I said I was ready to jump in.”

  “That prisoner transport I was working on just fell through. Mason’s down with the flu and Cody’s wife is in labor.”

  “Seriously, you can count me in,” Jonas said, “though I take it I won’t be the only marshal on board.”

  “There will be two pilots, and I’m going to call in another marshal. Madison James.”

  “Madison James?” Jonas asked. The familiar name took him by surprise.

  “You know her?”

  “I do, actually. I worked with her briefly three, maybe four years
ago. Back when I was training task forces. I didn’t know she was a marshal now.”

  Madison James was one of those officers he’d never forgotten. She’d been completely focused on her work, to the point of never socializing outside their training. Friendly, yet reserved and dead accurate in everything she did. And where she might have lacked physically from her five-foot-five stature, her intellect made up for it. He’d been impressed with her skills back then and had wondered from time to time what happened to her. No doubt another few years on the job had honed her skills even further.

  “You don’t look happy,” Michaels said, “but she’s one of the best. Which is why I’d like to partner her up with you.”

  “I’m not unhappy, just surprised. She was good. Maybe one of the best I’ve ever trained. For some reason, though, I always felt . . . like she didn’t like me.”

  “But you liked her?”

  Jonas let out a low laugh. “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to play matchmaker like your wife.”

  Michaels grinned. “Never.”

  “I’ll admit, in different circumstances, I might have liked to have gotten to know her better, but I think I was just impressed with her skills. She’s very good.”

  Jonas pushed his plate away from the edge of the table. The shoot house where he’d trained Madison was a live-fire facility where he worked with local law enforcement officers in high-risk situations, teaching them how to work as an effective team.

  “She never interacted outside our training sessions,” Jonas said. “Never talked about anything personal. Which was fine, though, because her instincts—as well as her aim—were always spot-on.”

  “I’d forgotten the connection, but you were training her when that shoot house murder happened, weren’t you?”

  Jonas nodded. “I was.”

  “That story hit the news cycle all across the country,” Michaels said. “On top of that, I’m assuming you knew her husband was killed the year before you trained her.”

  “I didn’t know that.” The revelation surprised him, but it also made sense as to why she’d been so reserved. “It will be good to see her again. We’ll make a good team.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. She might not have the years of experience you do, but her ability to read people and get them to talk is amazing. Just a routine transport to Denver and back. You’ll be back in the city before you know it.”

  Jonas frowned. Just a routine arrest was the last thing Felicia had told him when their task force banged on the door of a man with their final warrant for the day. Truth was, there was never anything routine when dealing with felons. He of all people knew that.

  Three

  Twenty minutes later, Jonas stepped into Michaels’s office at the US Marshals district office, just ahead of Madison. Her shoulder-length brown hair was a couple inches longer, but she hadn’t changed much since he’d seen her last.

  “Jonas reminded me that the two of you have already met,” Michaels said.

  She shot Jonas a half smile, one that didn’t quite reach her honey-colored eyes, as if she were trying to place him. “Jonas Quinn. Of course.”

  He held out his hand and shook hers. “It’s been a long time. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”

  “I couldn’t exactly forget you. Best training I ever had.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said. “I didn’t know that you’d become a marshal until Michaels told me, though I’m not surprised. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, and you . . . I thought you lived back East?”

  “I just moved back, actually.”

  “Jonas used to live here, which is why he and I go way back.” Michaels grabbed a stack of papers off his desk. “His father and I were close friends on the force.”

  “Welcome home, then,” she said.

  “Thank you.” Jonas shoved his hands into his pockets. “How long has it been? Three years—”

  “Four,” she said, too quickly.

  He caught a glimpse of pain in her expression and regretted his comment. If she’d still been dealing with the death of her husband during the training, she wouldn’t have forgotten the time frame.

  “After working under you, my basic training at the academy seemed like a breeze,” she said.

  “Somehow I doubt that, but clearly I wasn’t the only one you impressed,” Jonas said, glancing at Michaels.

  “You’re right,” Michaels said, “but unfortunately catching up is going to have to wait for another day.” He handed her a copy of the file. “You’ll be moving two federal prisoners by air, leaving in forty-five minutes. They’re both deemed highly dangerous, so you’re going to want to watch your backs.”

  Madison glanced at Jonas. “Forty-five minutes is cutting it close. We’re going to need to go over the prisoners’ paperwork, check the plane before the prisoners board—”

  Michaels shot her a wide grin. “Which is why I’m sending in my best.”

  Madison nodded at the compliment. Both of them had been trained to handle any situation that might evolve in their line of work, but that didn’t erase the adrenaline rush that always came with an assignment. You could never assume anything with a high-risk transportation. Never let your guard down. From searching the plane for any contraband to studying prisoner posture, they had to expect that the prisoners’ mindset was to escape.

  Theirs was to ensure they didn’t.

  Madison flipped open her file. “So what have we got?”

  “Paul Riley was arrested for robbing a diamond exchange and has three cases of armed robbery, and most recently, murder. Damon Barrick was arrested for the murder of a local couple outside of Denver and is being sent back there for his trial. Both carry flight risks, which is why I chose the two of you to transport them.

  “Two pilots, two prisoners,” Michaels continued. “Flight will be just under three hours. You’ll touch down in Denver at 1400 hours, where your plane will be met by US Marshals from the local office who will then escort them to the courthouse. I’ve got you both scheduled on a red-eye flight back here tonight.”

  His phone rang and he grabbed it off his desk. “Your ride is waiting.”

  On the way to the airport, they checked their weapons and went over the flight plan and every possible variable they could think of. The paperwork Michaels had given them contained each prisoner’s ID, medical history, and security data, essential information to ensure they hadn’t overlooked any details. At the airport, the prisoners went through another pat-down before being secured on the aircraft. In a few moments, the pilot had the go-ahead for takeoff.

  Even with the time crunch, Jonas preferred to keep to the same routine each time he flew as an assurance he didn’t forget anything important. Thankfully, Madison still seemed just as diligent and focused as he remembered.

  He secured his seat belt while they waited for air traffic control to give them the green light. Ten minutes passed and they were in the air. Jonas studied their two passengers, who were restrained with handcuffs and ankle and waist chains. Although he didn’t anticipate any problems with the transport, their job wouldn’t be done until the marshals in Denver took over.

  Madison shifted in her seat across from him, her body language indicating she was just as alert as he was. “How long have you been back?”

  “Arrived a couple days ago. I’m looking forward to the change of pace.”

  “I get that, though this is probably going to be my last flight out of Seattle.”

  “You’re retiring?” he asked, surprised at her admission.

  “Relocating. I’ve asked for a transfer to the Portland office.”

  “Really? Why’s that?”

  “Personal reasons.”

  He studied her expression but couldn’t read her. Neither was he surprised by her answer. Clearly she was just as guarded as when he’d worked with her before, making him wonder what secrets were hidden behind those light-brown eyes.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mea
n to pry.”

  She shook her head, indicating it didn’t matter, but she didn’t offer any personal information either. “Michaels said you’re from here?”

  “Grew up in Olympia. Left a decade ago, and did a bit of moving around because of the job.” He shrugged. “But I’m pretty sure I’m back for good.”

  “This part of the country has a way of staying with you, doesn’t it?”

  “Let’s just say when I’m not working, I plan to spend my days off hiking, fishing, and eating seafood.”

  “You actually think you’re going to have days off?” She let out a low laugh. “When’s the last time you had a vacation?”

  “2010,” he said without breaking a smile. “My plan, though, is to put in a few more years of work, retire early, and open a bait and tackle store on the coast.”

  “A bait and tackle store?”

  “Sounds relaxing, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, which means you’d be bored to death.” She glanced at the prisoners. “You do this for a living.”

  “A man can dream, can’t he?”

  The plane rumbled beneath them.

  “Sorry about the rough ride, folks.” The pilot’s voice came over the cabin’s intercom. “There’s no need to be concerned, this is going to get a bit choppy over the next few minutes. We’re going to lower our altitude and see if we can avoid some of the turbulence by flying around the storm.”

  Jonas got up quickly, double-checked that their prisoners were secure, then sat back down across from Madison. “You okay?”

  “I’m not a fan of rough weather, especially while up in the air, but who is?”

  Jonas glanced out the window, figuring from the time that had passed since they left that they were somewhere over Idaho. He’d forgotten just how beautiful this part of the world was. Endless miles of evergreen trees, mountains, and canyons. The last time he visited his mother, he’d never imagined returning permanently, but now that he was back, the timing seemed perfect. And despite the dark storm clouds moving in around them, he was excited about this next chapter in his life.

  Jonas grabbed the armrest as the plane dipped again. He double-checked that his seat belt was securely fastened. He wasn’t ready to admit out loud that the turbulence had him on edge, but it did.