Duty To Defend
THE MARSHAL’S MISSIONWorking undercover at a day care, Deputy Marshal Daci Marlowe has one mission: protect a mother and her infant son from the woman’s fugitive ex-boyfriend. But when someone seems more focused on killing Daci, she and her partner, child-advocate attorney Jax Williams, must figure out why before it’s too late. With her family’s tragic past and her experience raising her siblings, Daci can’t help but relate to the woman and child—even as she’s drawn to Jax. Daci knows that Jax has his own harrowing past, though, one that makes the handsome defender keep her at arm’s length. But with each attempt on Daci’s life, Jax comes closer to both Daci and a dangerous truth.
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THE MARSHALâS MISSION
Working undercover at a day care, Deputy Marshal Daci Marlowe has one mission: protect a mother and her infant son from the womanâs fugitive ex-boyfriend. But when someone seems more focused on killing Daci, she and her partner, child-advocate attorney Jax Williams, must figure out why before itâs too late. With her familyâs tragic past and her experience raising her siblings, Daci canât help but relate to the woman and childâeven as sheâs drawn to Jax. Daci knows that Jax has his own harrowing past, though, one that makes the handsome defender keep her at armâs length. But with each attempt on Daciâs life, Jax comes closer to both Daci and a dangerous truth.
The heavy rat-a-tat of automatic-weapon fire shredded the night.
Daciâs heart pounded like a trip-hammer as she grabbed for the small pistol sheâd strapped to her ankle for tonightâs meeting, although what good the little peashooter might do against an automatic was anybodyâs guess.
Abruptly, the staccato burst of gunfire ceased, and Daci inched her head up above the hood of her car. With a screech of tires, the van raced away up the street.
Other gunfire blended with hers, and she searched for the shooter. There! Jax was rushing up the middle of the street, pistol raised and blasting, but the van didnât slow down as it disappeared into the night.
Jax broke off chasing the fleeing vehicle and raced toward the bullet-riddled VW, calling her name. Panic edged his tone.
Daci popped to her feet. âIâm here. Iâm okay.â
âNo, youâre not. Youâre bleeding.â He gestured toward her arm.
She glanced down. Sure enough, warm blood trickled down her bare arm below the cap sleeve of her blouse. Now that the crisis was past, a hot burn in her biceps suddenly registered.
âJust a graze. Nothing serious.â
âNothing serious? Are you kidding? Someone tried to kill you.â
JILL ELIZABETH NELSON writes what she likes to readâfaith-based tales of adventure seasoned with romance. Parts of the year find her and her husband on the international mission field. Other parts find them at home in rural Minnesota, surrounded by the woods and prairie and four grown children and young grandchildren. More about Jill and her books can be found at jillelizabethnelson.com or Facebook.com/jillelizabethnelson.author.
Blessed is he that considereth the poor:
the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble.
The Lord will preserve him, and keep him alive;
and he shall be blessed upon the earth: and thou wilt not deliver him unto the will of his enemies.
âPsalms 41:1â2
To all the caregivers out there.
You know who you are!
Whether you care for aging parents,
developmentally challenged children or adults,
or a spouse or other loved one with
challenges that need special care,
you make the world a better place.
Acknowledgments
Bushel baskets of gratitude to my savvy editor
at Love Inspired Suspense, Elizabeth Mazer, and to the rest of the editorial, copy and design staff that work so diligently to make each book the best it can be for our readers. Special blessings to my hubby, who puts up with a lot of shushing when Iâm nearing manuscript deadline. Thanks so much for your patience, sweetheart! And a special shout-out to you readers. Your kind enthusiasm fuels my desire to write these stories. Bless you and read on!
Contents
Stomach fluttering, Daci Marlowe paused outside her bossâs closed office door and ventured a tiny smile. This was itâher first assignment as a US deputy marshal.
Finally!
After dealing with her siblingsâ toddler-then-teenage tantrums until her twenties had faded in the rearview mirror, she was more than ready to begin her own career. Not even the joker who had left the ribbon-bedecked basket with its smelly contents outside her duplex door this morning would cast a shadow on this moment.
Oh, yes, she would find out who the culprit was. That was a promise. The medium-size wicker basket had contained one jar of opened and spoiled baby food, a baby bottle a quarter full of curdled formula, an assortment of crumpled and dried baby wipes, and a diaper anointed with what her nose told her was vinegar. The block-lettered note read, âENJOY YOUR NEW LIFE.â
The personal nature of the practical joke should have narrowed her suspect list to one of her rowdy siblings, but something didnât quite fit, and she couldnât put her finger on what was off. But if she went with the theory, her brother Nate would top the list because he was the only one who lived within easy driving distance of Springfield, Massachusetts. However, he, as well as her other siblings, had called either last night or early this morning to wish her well on her first day on the new job, and her deeply ingrained imp-o-meter hadnât detected any pending mischief in their tones.
