Page 58 of Max's Mission

“Fear of repercussions,” Marchand answered. “Berry shot and killed the bank manager during the robbery. He was afraid he’d get charged with accessory to commit murder. He’d also lost confidence in the agency’s ability to keep him safe after the robbery went so off the rails.”

“Okay, so how did Tad end up with you and why was the money at the Conroy’s farm? How do they figure into this?” Max crossed his arms again, a deep frown on his face.

“When Tad ran after the robbery, the money was in the car. He told us he spent months on the run, trying to stay one step ahead of Berry, but he was running low on funds and didn’t want to use the robbery money. Hence the reason he finally turned himself in. One of his caveats to working with us again was withholding where he’d stashed the money. He said he wasn’t giving it up until we could assure his safety and yours.” Marchand nodded to Margot. “Even though he’d already left you, Dr. Gaultier, several months before, he didn’t want any of the kickback, if he got caught, to fall on you. So, we put him in witness protection and put a detail on you and your daughters.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Eyes narrow, she leaned in, not sure she’d heard him right. They’d been followed? She balled her fists, tamping down the anger that wanted to explode from her mouth in a loud and expletive-filled rant. If she’d been under suspicion of wrongdoing, she could accept being followed without her knowledge. But when it was her safety and her daughters’ safety on the line, she should have been informed of the danger. She’d have been more vigilant and cognizant of her surroundings.

Max held up a hand. She looked at him and saw the raw anger simmering in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t you take Margot and the girls too? Owens knew Tad’s real name and what he did for a living. It wouldn’t be hard to find out about his family, especially since Margot worked in the same hospital.”

“We offered that to him, but he said he didn’t think Owens would let Berry resort to that. Despite his criminal ways, Owens has scruples. He?—”

Max sliced a hand through the air. “No. Wrong answer. You should never have bowed to Tad’s wishes. Not with a violent criminal in the midst.”

“He threatened to walk, Mr. Carson. The entire case would have just—poof”—he raised a closed hand and popped it open—“disappeared without him.”

“So, the lives of a woman and two children were inconsequential, is what you’re saying?”

Marchand narrowed his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “No. But as I said, even with what we knew about Berry, we didn’t think Dr. Gaultier or her children were in any real danger. But to be sure, we posted a protective detail.” He turned his gaze to Margot. “Then you went and helped us out by leaving. At that point, we figured you and your daughters were relatively safe. Especially once we learned you’d surrounded yourself with several former members of the special forces.”

Margot poked her tongue into her cheek and glanced through the front windows as she digested that. It still didn’t sit right with her that they’d left her in the dark.

She returned her gaze to the marshal and cast a quick glance at Agent Dye, encompassing him with her next question. “Why do you think we need protection now? Tad’s dead. The feds have the money. Why are my girls and I still in danger?”

“Because Berry doesn’t know we have the money,” Dye said.

Marchand’s lips flattened. “I’ve been monitoring the FBI’s investigation into the body found in North Dakota. That postcard you identified in your ex-husband’s things set off alarm bells for me. I think Berry’s been in Costa Rica and was trying to scare Tad into giving up the money. We’re worried he’ll escalate things.”

Margot’s eyes narrowed, confused. She glanced at Max to see the same confusion on his face.

“Why would he escalate things?” Margot asked. “He killed Tad.”

Dye’s expression tightened, and a pit formed in Margot’s stomach.

Marchand inhaled a breath, then dropped a bomb.

“Tad’s not dead.”

Twenty-Four

Max’s eyebrows slammed down. He could feel his neck and face turning red as fury swelled. In contrast, all the blood drained from Margot’s face, leaving her white as a sheet. Her nails dug into his bicep as she clutched his arm.

A moment later, she let go of him and stumbled to a chair, sitting down. Max moved behind her, laying his hands on her shoulders, not only to offer her comfort but to keep them occupied so he didn’t do something dumb, like deck a federal agent.

He pierced Marchand with a fierce glare. “Why are we just now learning this? The FBI has had Tad’s car for weeks. If Margot and the kids were in danger, why hasn’t someone contacted her? We’d have been more vigilant and might have seen someone lurking.” And he sure as hell never would have left the country to help Sam. Nor would he have left the twins behind on this trip. They’d have brought them along—with backup.

“We didn’t have any evidence Berry was still in Costa Rica. Or that he’d ever been. He could have paid someone to mail that postcard.”

Max hummed. “Didn’t have any evi—” he stopped himself, pressing his lips together. Pulling in a breath through his nose,he tamped down the urge to throttle Marchand. He wouldn’t get the answers to all his questions if the man was unconscious. “Where’s Tad now?”

“Blissfully unaware of any of this.”

In one smooth movement, Margot was out of her chair and only steps away from Marchand. “Why? If you knew he was alive, why did I go to Minot to identify his things? If you wanted to keep me out of this, why involve me in that?”

“That ball was in motion before I could say anything. Then, I didn’t want to tip our hand, so I stayed out of it and let you come.” He glanced away briefly. “I also wanted to see what information you could add.”

Her brows dipped so low they nearly touched. Max saw her muscles tense and knew she was about to do what he’d been trying not to.

In two quick strides, he was around the chair and had her wrapped in his arms. “Easy, babe.”

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