“Okay, reunion ’s over.” Culvert nudged her foot. “Break it up.”
Priscilla extracted herself from Luc’s embrace but kept tight hold of his hand. She looked up at Culvert. “What’s going to happen now?”
Culvert gave what might pass as a smile on another man. “We wait.”
“For what?” Luc gingerly touched his face with his free hand, his fingers coming back bloody from the superficial gashes left by the wood.
“You’ll see.” Culvert returned to his chair by the window. “You two can talk, but remember, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later.” With that, he turned his attention back to his phone.
Priscilla feasted her eyes on Luc. “Are you really okay?” She let go of his hand to gently touch his injured cheek, then flattened her palm against the other side, holding it there for a few seconds.
“Yes, I’m all right, only a few scratches. Did you get hurt in the crash?” Luc squeezed her hand.
She shook her head. “Just some bruises. Aldrich was slumped over the steering wheel and Mac had passed out. I don’t know how badly they were hurt. Do you?”
“Not sure about Aldrich or Myers, but both were taken to the hospital.”
“What about Laura and her husband?”
“Laura seemed okay, but she went to the hospital to get checked out too. I don’t know about Jarvis, Smith or Dr. Devins. Their vehicle was too far away for me to see what was going on with them.” He paused. “I was more concerned about finding you, once help arrived.”
“And Mac?” Priscilla held her breath, hoping against hope her handler had come through the attack unscathed.
“He was alert enough to tell me what happened with you, but he clearly needed medical attention beyond first aid. The last I saw of him, he was being loaded into an ambulance.” Luc lowered his voice. “Did Culvert hurt you?”
“No. He’s been brusque, but he hasn’t hurt me.” She kept her voice low as well. “How did you find me?”
“Mac.” Luc leaned closer, his eyes intent on her face, his voice barely above a whisper. “He said I was right. Someone inside the marshals set us up.”
“What?” She shot a glance at Culvert, still focused on his phone. “Someone in the marshals is trying to kill me? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Luc frowned. “Mac didn’t say this marshal was behind the attempts, only that they were involved somehow in this mess. He thought maybe Culvert kidnapped you as a bargaining chip for his own safety.”
Priscilla stared into the heater’s flame, letting her mind wander over everything that had happened since Monday. She’d hardly had time to think since it all began. The timing niggled at her. Culvert’s trial was still more than two weeks away. If he wasn’t behind all of the attempts on her life, and instead, someone in the US Marshals Service was trying to kill her, why had it become crucial to silence her now? The marshal would have had access to—or at least, could have probably found out—her location months or years ago. What had set the ball in motion?
Priscilla hadn’t realized she’d spoken the question out loud until Luc responded that he hadn’t a clue. She elaborated on her thoughts. “I believe the timing of all this is crucial. We’ve all been thinking it was the trial date, but if we take that out of the equation, what’s left? My life has stayed basically the same.”
“Except,” Luc began, his countenance glowing as if a light bulb turned on in his brain, “that you were about to undergo hypnotherapy again.”
“What difference would that make?” She shifted on the couch, drawing up her knee to angle her body to Luc’s. “I’d done hypnotherapy before.”
“But what if it wasn’t that you’d done it before, but who you were going to do it with.”
“Dr. Devins? But I didn’t meet Dr. Devins until we arrived at the second safe house.” She opened her mouth, then closed it. The feeling of having met Dr. Devins before and the uneasiness she’d felt during their initial session along with the shadowy figure of a man outside the kitchen in the corridor all seemed too fantastical to even consider, and yet...something about the idea clicked.