by Grace Walton
With resolute steps she marched to the kitchen and retrieved her bag from the table. With a few hard jabs she enabled the security system’s keypad mounted on the wall by the back door. With a final ‘snick’ she shut the kitchen door. She walked resolutely towards the squad car in her driveway.
Sam smiled and got out to help her into the vehicle. He walked her around to the passenger’s side without saying a word or touching her. Since the kiss in the helicopter, he’d been very careful not to show her any physical affection. The first couple of days she’d appreciated the gesture. But lately it had bothered her. Sam acted as if she had some kind of contagious disease.
And right now Carrie needed a hug or a pat on the shoulder. Just some kind of human contact to prove she was still alive. Involuntarily her mind flew once again to Gage. A slow, hot red tide crawled up her face.
“Are you OK?” Sam asked as he opened the passenger door of the car. “You’re not going to faint on me or anything, are you?”
Carrie ducked her head in shame. What kind of woman was she? Here she had this great guy going out of his way to help and protect her. And all she could think about was another man, a man who was trying to kill her. She needed therapy, there wasn’t any doubt. She’d need years of it when this was finally over.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled as she quickly got into the car. She was fastening her seatbelt as Sam got in on the driver’s side.
“It’s OK, you know. If you’re not feeling well, I can call the school.” There was a worry crease between his eyes. She wanted to reach up and smooth it away. But she didn’t. She was not about to send him some kind of signal. Just because Sam had been a great friend didn’t mean she wanted to encourage him. He was too nice of a guy. She refused to use him.
“You can go back tomorrow.” He started to get out of the car. Before she could stop herself, she laid her hand on his sleeve. He was instantly still. Sam’s hot eyes drilled into hers. He made no move to shake her hand off. He just sat as still as a tomb watching her. The silence lengthened and made her uncomfortable. She removed her offending hand.
Carrie cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.” She looked away.
“Don’t be,” he said. “I love you touching me. I just know you don’t feel the same way.” He shrugged as if it was something he’d struggled and come to terms with.
“I’m sorry. You’re great.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming,” he said.
She turned back to look at him. All the heat she’d just seen flooding his eyes was gone. His face was bland and friendly. She tried for a bland smile to match his.
“No but. You are a great guy and I’d like to get to know you better. I just need to take it slow… really slow,” she was pleading and also refusing to face reality. She’d never feel anything for Sam other than a sisterly affection. She ought to tell him the truth and let him move on.
Sam’s eyes hardened. “What did he do to you? I swear I want to kill that…”
“No, no, it’s not Gage,” she lied once. “He didn’t do anything to hurt me,” she lied twice. “Not the way you mean,” she finally told the truth. “I’ll just feel a whole lot safer when he’s arrested.”
Sam ran a frustrated hand across his face. “I will too. But he hasn’t broken the law and you and I are the only ones who have any idea what he’s planning. Even Witness Protection has him listed as only a ‘person of interest’. The kidnappers never knew who he really was. And I can’t prove he was even up at the Conclave. He’s clean.”
“That’s just it,” Carrie moaned. She laid her head against the seat. “I’ve been living for years knowing somebody was out there searching for me with criminal intent. But putting a face on the threat is scary.”
“You should be scared Carrie,” Sam said. “He’s really good.” Something in his voice grated.
“You sound like you know him,” she said.
Sam shook head. “Only by reputation. You should see the size of the Justice Department file on this guy. Looks like a stack of Bibles.”
For some reason the analogy bothered her. She’d been thinking a lot about the Bible since she’d been back. She’d even hauled her mother’s old one from the storage box in the attic and read a little. It hadn’t taken her very long to get confused. But every night she’d felt more curious. So she’d open it up and scan a while. Some of the old Bible stories were coming back to her.
“So are you going to work today, or waiting till another day?” he asked.
“Today,” she said it with a determination she was far from feeling.
He nodded and cranked the squad car. They made the whole journey to the school in silence. Carrie couldn’t talk. The closer they got, the more her throat closed up. By the time he pulled in front of the school, she was grasping the bag over her shoulder with cold white fingers.
“We’re here Carrie,” he said.
She turned to look at him. “Huh?”
“I said- we’re here.” He frowned again. “I don’t think this is such a good idea. Let me take you home.”
Suddenly aware of her surroundings Carrie shook her head. “Nope,” She took a deep breath, bit her lower lip, and unlatched the car door.
“I’ll see you later,” she managed to whisper as she got out.
She heard him wait until she opened the door of the school and walked inside to leave. The halls were empty. The kids weren’t due for another hour. Carrie heard a soft metallic hum from the office and knew the secretary was already there. At first Carrie felt sort of claustrophobic in the halls. But as she made her way to her classroom, the dread faded.
She turned into the room with the huge laminated picture of a bear tacked up on the wall beside it. Opening the door, she flicked on the florescent lights. There it was, her old familiar classroom. It was wonderful how normal it appeared. Normal until she spotted the flower on her desk. It was a single white rose lying across her grade book. At first she was flattered. Sam must have left it there for her. But as she got closer she saw the business card attached to the stem.
There was a large silhouette of a black knife against a pure white background. No name, no address, just a phone number. But she knew who it was from. With a trembling hand, she flipped the card over. Two words were written in a bold scrawl across the back-Be Careful. Carrie dropped the card and ran to the door. She had to leave. She had to disappear. The janitor looked up in surprise.
“Welcome back Miss Smith,” he said. “You’re the first teacher in this morning.”
“Have you seen anyone else in my room?” She panted, trying to keep her rising hysteria at bay.
He shook his head. “No ma’am. Far as I know, you and the secretary are the only ones here besides me.”
She leaned against the door. “How about yesterday?”
He thought for a minute. “Nobody’s been in the school all week, except the police. They put that yellow crime scene tape up just about everywhere. There were places in the building even I couldn’t get into.”
“Thanks,” she said going into the classroom. She closed the door behind her. Tears started forming behind her eyes. It took all her strength of will not to press the panic button on her GPS. Logic told her he wasn’t in the school now. He’d gotten in somehow, left the rose, and gotten out with no one seeing him. Like Sam said, Gage was good.
But just knowing how easily he’d accomplished it all was frightening. If he could get into the school undetected, with its high tech security, getting into her house would be an easy task. She sat on one of the little tables. What was she going to do?
One thing was certain, she thought as she straightened her spine. She wasn’t going to be a sitting duck. She’d buy a gun. Of course Witness Protection expressly forbade their clients owning one. But she wasn’t about to be helpless. Right after school today, she’d drive into town and buy a gun. A big one. She knew what to get and how to use it. Her Dad had been very thorough in his instructions.
With that in mind, she wen
t back to her desk, picked up the rose, and threw it deliberately into the trash can. It sat in the bottom of the rusty can seducing her. But she didn’t care. She refused to look at it or think about the man who had put it on her desk.
Her mouth twisted as she thought of the irony of his message on the little square card. Be careful, yeah, she was going to be very careful. And the next time she saw him. She’d be prepared.
The rush of students coming in the classroom’s door drew her away from her thoughts.
“Hey Miss Smith!”
“Can I show you my new backpack?”
“Guess what my Dad said about us being out of school a whole week?”
She had to smile. There was something to be said for a hoard of kids who thought you were the best thing since sliced bread. It was just what she needed to make her forget the fact that she was living here under an assumed name and that someone wanted to kill her.
The trial was scheduled to begin right after Christmas. If she could just keep it together a few more months… maybe in the spring, she could finally get back to a normal life. Of course, it all depended on whether her testimony helped convict the Drug Lord who’d ordered father’s murder. It depended on a lot of things. Whether she could manage to stay alive was pretty high on that list.
Soon, Carrie’s day fell into a familiar pattern. The kids knew the classroom routine. It felt very good to be back in the swing of things. Even lunch went off without a hitch. No one at the Teachers’ Table asked any awkward questions about her time spent at the Conclave. She was grateful.
As the bell rang to dismiss school Carrie found herself incredibly weary, but in a good way. It was wonderful to be tired from physical activity instead of merely drained from debilitating stress. She gathered up her teacher’s guides and shoved them into the huge bag she’d brought to school that morning. A friendly voice from the door startled her.
“How was your day?” Sam leaned against the door frame smiling.
She had to smile back. “It was awesome.” She walked over to join him. “Thanks for the ride. But I think tomorrow I’ll drive myself.”
Sam frowned. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
Carrie felt daring. She patted his arm in a friendly fashion. “Don’t be a worry wart. I’ve got to drive alone someday. It might as well be tomorrow.”
Ruth Anne Middlebrooks walked past them and teased, “You ought to hold on to that one Sam.”
Sam chuckled. He answered her never taking his eyes off Carrie. “I’m trying Ruth Anne. I’m trying. You don’t know how hard I’m trying.”
“Church makes a great date.” Ruth Anne continued on down the hall.
“Do you believe her?” Sam challenged Carrie. She squirmed a bit under his scrutiny.
“About church being a great date?” She played for time.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it is a great date. It’s a really safe date. I’ve got a great pew scoped out.”
Carrie laughed. “You’ve got your own pew?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t own it. I just borrow it, every Sunday. So how bout it? Want to share?” The light dancing in his blue eyes was too hard to resist.
“OK, OK, I’ll go to church with you and sit in your ‘borrowed’ pew. But you’ve got to make a concession to me too.”
“Anything, everything, name it. Do you want my first born son? I don’t have one yet. But you could definitely help me get one. If you wanted to. Somebody told me once how it was done. It seems like a fairly straightforward process,” he asked with a perfectly straight face and hilarious arching eyebrows. If he’d had a handlebar mustache he’d be twirling it.
She chuckled again. “No, I just want to drive myself to work tomorrow. And every day after that.”
He scowled. “You drive a very tough bargain, Miss Smith. How’s this, you take your car and I’ll follow in the squad car?”
Now it was her turn to shake her head. “Not good enough. I take my car, nobody follows. I’m not interested in leading a parade to school every morning.”
“Let’s negotiate, you drive- no one follows, but I get a call when you leave your house and when you arrive at work. If it takes more than 15 minutes in-between, I come find you?”
Carrie thought for a moment, then nodded. “That seems like a good plan.”
He wasn’t finished. “For these enormous concessions on my part, you go to church with me every Sunday until Christmas.”
Carrie gave him a sour look. “You don’t ask much, do you?”
Sam had a smug grin on his face. “Those are my terms.”
She nodded ungraciously. “I’ll do it, under duress, but I’ll do it.”
Sam whooped in delight, scooped her up, and twirled her around the hall. She laughed in response. He set her gently on her feet, but kept his hands on her arms.
“You know you’re very dangerous,” he whispered with a subtle smile playing around the edges of his lips.
“Dangerous?” she asked.
“Yeah, I have a feeling I’m gonna fall real hard and real fast.”
Carrie wriggled out of his grasp. “I distinctly remember asking you to slow down.”
He instantly backed off. “Yeah, you did. Sorry, I just got caught up in the moment. Bad timing, huh?” he asked.
“The worst,” She nodded and started walking down the hall. He caught up with her.
“I never was very good at waiting,” he said, pushing the school entrance door open for her. Sunshine played all the way down the length of her burnished copper braid. He seemed entranced by the sight.
“You may not be very good at waiting. But you are extremely good at flirting,” Carrie said.
“You think so?” Sam was pleased she’d noticed.
“Oh yeah,” She’d gotten to the car and was reaching for the handle. “You must have had a lot of practice.”
“No, but I’ve had a lot of incentive… lately.” He wasn’t going to let her win this test of wills.
She came to a standstill and turned to look at him. It was easy since they were close to the same height. “Sam I do like you. I like you a lot. But you know as well as I do that right now my life is well, complicated.”
He smiled. “What? You think you’re something special just because you’re living under a pseudonym and you used to have a cool job?”
Carrie had to laugh. “You do have a way of cutting me down to size.”
He didn’t wait for her to say anything else. He captured her hand and held it to his heart. She felt its deep rhythmic thudding under her fingertips.
“Give me a chance Carrie. Please?” All the light banter had gone out of his voice.
Carrie was suddenly sobered by his solemn demeanor. He deserved more than a playful response. “I don’t know that I can.” At least she’d give him an honest answer. “But I’ll try.”
He nodded, “Fair enough.” He reached across her body to open her door.
Carrie felt a curious tingle as his hand brushed against her body. A creepy little shock went straight up her spine. Was it budding desire or natural alarm? She wasn’t quite sure. As soon as he started the car she remembered she had something important to tell him.
“When I got to school this morning there was a rose on my desk,” she said.
Sam’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at her. “Sounds like I’ve got some competition.”
She shook her head. “No, there was a note.” Carrie didn’t want to tell him the rest. She was sure he’d be very angry. And she was right
“Who was it from?” His words were low and threatening.
“Gage.” She turned and looked out the car window.
He cursed under his breath. “What did the note say?”
“Be careful,” she answered.
This time the curse was audible. “I need the note.”
Carrie turned to look at him. “I threw it and the rose into the trash. I didn’t want either of them.”
Sudden ugly curses fi
lled the car. Carrie drew back alarmed. Sam noticed her withdrawal immediately.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I could have lifted a print from the paper and used it to put him in jail.”
“I don’t think you can put a man in jail for sending a woman a rose with an innocuous statement like ‘Be Careful’ attached.” Carrie knew she was being sarcastic. But his behavior had been so out of character this afternoon she couldn’t help herself.
His answer was sheepish along with his expression. “You’re right, of course. I over reacted. I’m sorry. But the card could’ve been used to build a harassment case.”
“I guess I over reacted too, when I got the note. I just threw it into the trash can to get it away from me.”
“Maybe I can go back and retrieve it.” He started to turn the car when she stopped him.
“The janitor came by before school was out. He emptied the can. It’s already in the school incinerator. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK.” He assured her pulling back on the road. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just can’t stand the fact he got into the school, into your classroom. I don’t want him anywhere near you Carrie.”
She understood. “I know,I know. It’s incredibly frustrating. What should I do next time?”
“There isn’t going to be a next time,” he ground out. “I’m going to make sure he has no access to you whatsoever.”
Carrie leaned her forehead against the glass of the car window. “Not more security measures. I feel like I’m living in a prison now,” she protested weakly.
A hard hand gripped her shoulder roughly commanding her attention. “I’ll get him Carrie.”
“No,” she protested. The thought of Gage being hurt or imprisoned tore at her soul.
“Why not? If I don’t kill him, he’ll kill you.” There was a feral wildness lighting his eyes.
“Nobody’s going to be killed. Witness Protection is going to keep me alive, I’m going to testify and put a murderer away for good, and Gage Ferguson will become a non-issue.”
He snorted in disbelief. “What planet are you living on? Ferguson already has a partial payment. He won’t back down even if his client ends up sitting in a South American jail for the next 100 years. He can’t. He’d lose all credibility on the street. A mercenary is only as good as his last hit.”