02 Madoc Read Free

maybe he just didn’t want to believe it. But there it was, in black and white, and as much as he wanted to just forget that Shayna Matthews, aka Jane the waitress, was a fugitive, he couldn’t. He was a U.S. Marshal, which meant that it was his duty to bring her in.
    His hand tightening on the mouse, Madoc clicked on the print button, and then logged out of the database.
     
    Folding the wanted poster of Shayna Matthews, he shoved it into his coat pocket and strode out of the library and across the street to the diner.
    Shayna’s hands trembled as she hurriedly shoved what little clothing she had into the small overnight bag she’d brought with her when she’d left Denver. Of all the men in the diner she could have flirted with, she had to pick a U.S. Marshal!
    Tall and broad-shouldered, not to mention ruggedly handsome, she had noticed the Marshal the moment he’d walked into the diner, and had been disappointed when he had chosen a booth instead of taking a seat at the counter. So when Madge, the other waitress she worked with, had suggested she serve lunch to him, she had not only jumped at the chance, but had openly flirted with him. She’d figured that he was probably only passing through town, but had toyed with the idea of trying to convince him to hang around for awhile. Little did she know that he was there to arrest her, she thought bitterly. And if Madge hadn’t learned that he was a U.S.
    Marshal from her conversation with him earlier, then Shayna would still be at the diner obliviously going on about her business.
    God, she had been so stupid! Stupid to stay in Flint Rock for so long instead of going to Canada like she had planned. Stupid to think that a pair of ugly, non-prescription, black-framed glasses would be enough of a disguise to alter her appearance. Stupid not to dye her hair like her sister had suggested.
    Still silently berating herself for her stupidity, Shayna grabbed her coat from the bed and put it on. If she hurried, maybe she could catch one of the truckers down at the gas station near the freeway and bum a ride with him.
    Anyone heading north would be fine with her.
    She picked up her suitcase from the bed, and was just about to cross the small room she rented at the boarding house when there came a loud banging on the door.
    “Federal Marshal!” a man’s voice called. “Open up!”
    Shayna froze, her hand tightening reflexively on the handle of her overnight bag as she stared at the door. Oh God, he’d found her, she thought. She couldn’t go back to jail! She had to get out of there!
    The Marshal banged on the door, louder this time. Heart pounding, Shayna looked around wildly for some other escape route. Her gaze immediately locked on the window on the other side of the small room. Not having to think twice, she dashed over to it. Instead of opening easily like it should have, however, the window didn’t budge. Dammit, the darn thing was stuck!
    Tears of frustration welling in her eyes, Shayna dropped her bag on the floor and tried to force the window open, but it did no good. The stupid thing probably hadn’t been opened in ten years! Spotting a heavy bookend sitting on the low shelf beside the window, she grabbed it and was just about to use it to break the glass when the door burst open.
    Still holding onto the bookend, Shayna whirled around with a startled gasp to see the handsome Marshal from the diner standing in the doorway, his weapon drawn and pointed at her.
    “Shayna Matthews, you’re under arrest,” he told her. “Drop that and put your hands up.”
    Shayna knew she should obey, especially since the Marshal had a gun pointed at her, but she couldn’t make herself do it. “You’ve got the wrong person. My name is Jane,” she said, her voice trembling. “Jane Cooper.”
    His golden-brown eyes went to the bag sitting on the floor beside her. “Nice try,” he said sarcastically. “Now, drop what you’re holding and put your hands up.”
    She swallowed