My own anguish suddenly molded into a courageous solution. I shook the answer away. But it returned, clearer than ever. Shocked by the revelation, I stood and stared into space.
“What is it, hon?”
I held up a finger. “Wait. I’m thinking.”
For better for worse. ’Til death do us part. In order for me, and for Tom, to truly live, one thing must happen. My once declared dead husband had to die. For real this time. But how? Not by my hand, and certainly not by Tom’s. But Tom could lure the cartel or the Feds to Robert, and draw him out into the open, in a battle over me.
But did I want to watch it go down? God, I put this in Your hands—again.
I returned my eyes to Tom. He wiped his face with his hand and rose from the table. “I better leave, now. I don’t want to chance going to prison again, Jen.”
I put a firm grip upon his arms. His muscles responded to my touch. “Wait. I have a Plan D. What if you lead them to him, Tom? Tell the Feds you broke protocol to flush him out.”
He cocked his head at the thought. His gaze slowly turned to me. He leaned in again, and raised an eyebrow. “Jen, do you really think this could get me back in good graces with the Feds?”
I nodded rapidly. “It’s worth a try. I’m guessing Robert won’t go down without a fight.”
“Okay, and…?”
“You step back and let the Feds and the cartel hash it out. Robert will be caught in the crossfire.”
Tom’s chin curled. “Hmm. Robert’s played them both. Justice would be served.”
“Then we can both be free, Tom. No more running or hiding. No more lies.”
His face softened. “A chance to live a normal life, eh?”
I rubbed my hand across the bit of stubble on his cheek. “But this time, it has to be different. He’s been captured before. He won’t want to be again.”
“True. So?”
“So, Plan D may stand for death. He’ll probably want to die rather than go into custody again.”
Tom sucked in a breath.
I chewed the inside of my lip. The thought hung like a shroud between us.
“I can’t wish that on him, Jen. Neither can you.”
I clenched his shoulders. “Then we’ll leave it to God. Your job is to make sure both the Feds and the cartel find him. What happens next is beyond our control.”
“True.” He leaned back and snapped his fingers. “When the cartel bosses learn Robert’s empire has toppled, it will be as if an octopus had one of its arms severed. They’ll swim off and concentrate on growing a new one. Which means the Feds will change their focus.”
“And we’ll no longer matter. Everyone will leave us alone.”
He gave me a hug. “Jen, you’re a genius.”
I pulled back. “But how can I be the bait this time, Tom? I leave for Gainesville in two hours.”
Tom matched his gaze with mine. “You go. I’ll make it happen. It may not be here in Florida. But it will take place.” He ran his hand through my hair. It landed at the nape of my neck. “It might take a while. Don’t give up on me, okay?”
I drew a deep breath. “I promise. I’ll go with Becky. But, I’ll try to leave a breadcrumb trail.”
“Okay. Plan D it is.” He turned to leave.
I had no doubt he’d pull this off. But, how would I learn when it happened or if Tom came away unscathed? I doubted if CNN or FOX would cover it on the evening news. “No, Tom. Wait.”
He stopped and gazed back towards me.
My heart puddled into my feet. I didn’t want to lose him again. Maybe we should run. That would force Robert to follow. At least we’d be together for a while.
I rushed to Tom and grasped his biceps. They rippled in my fingers. “You asked me to come with you. I’ve changed my mind. The answer is ‘yes’.”
“Jen?” He peered into my face. “You sure?”
I took another deep gulp of nerve. “Absolutely. He’ll follow if I’m with you.”
“And put you in danger? I don’t think so.”
My eyes burned with conviction. “I want to witness it. Then I’ll know he can never, ever hurt me, or you, or Marisol, or anyone else ever again.”
Tom’s body stiffened. He took two steps back beyond my reach. “No way, hon. You’re not trained to do this.”
I sharpened my stare. “Then train me.”
Tom’s voice cracked. “I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
His lips pressed on mine, stealing my breath, melting our souls into one. As he pulled away, he whispered, “I can never put you at risk like that. I love you so much.” He traced my mouth with his finger. “Forget what I said. Just don’t ever forget me. When this is over, and he’s gone for good, I’ll come for you.”
“But WITSEC is giving me a new identity.”
He caressed my neck. “Whoever they make you become, wherever they send you, it doesn’t matter, hon. I will find you.”
Tom’s lips pressed into mine one more time. I drank in his scent and tasted his love for me.
Then, his warmth left. When I opened my eyes, he’d disappeared out the door.
CHAPTER TEN
A shadow brushed against the blinds of my kitchen window. The hinges on my gate squeaked. I sucked in the reality. Tom had left. Would we ever be together ever again?
Outside, deep, whispered voices and shuffled footsteps sounded. The bushes in the side yard rustled as men scraped by them. I peeked out to watch as Federal agents dashed like ants after their hill had been kicked. My face stretched into a smile. Go, Tom. Go.
I breathed normally, for the first time in ten minutes.
In my heart of hearts, I knew this was not the end. Tom would get messages to me. He’d find ways. He always had. So what if Robert had surmised the same? The scenario might still play out. Robert follows Tom to me, the Feds tag behind…
I rose to meet Becky. She still had plenty to answer for her part in all of this. Besides, I needed help with this packing process.
She waited in the living room. “Well?”
I pivoted to head down the hall to the bedroom. “Well, let’s get started.”
After a moment her footsteps hurried to meet mine. “Okay.”
In spite of myself, I laughed. Becky had that effect on me. She was a true friend. But, I still fumed. I wanted to ask her why she led Tom to me.
But not now, when my emotions sat on my skin. I didn’t want to crumble into a blubbering idiot. Maybe on the way to Gainesville, after I had time to gather my thoughts, we’d talk like rational human beings.
We packed in stiffened silence. The first time I relocated, I’d pelted her with a dozen, “But, can’t I at least take...” questions. Today, I let her decide and nodded in defeated compliance.
The subject of Tom lay between us like a stormy cloud. She knew he’d run. We both did. I think she was a little surprised I didn’t go with him. A couple of times she arched an eyebrow in my direction, but I’d shoot her a pursed grin and get back to work.
What is the French saying? C’est la vie. C’est la guerre? Such is life, such is war. The widower at church might get his feathers ruffled when I didn’t say goodbye. I’d sensed the dinners together had meant more to him than to me. Mrs. Burnett may sling a few hairpins when she learned I’d abandoned my post after she took a chance on me. Both would survive.
One issue remained—Tom Cat. Not being allowed to take him would rip my heart a few more inches. I identified with the poor animal. He had been someone’s once, and then had been tossed out—just like me.
He mewed. It seemed to end in a lilt, as if a question. I hugged him to my chin.
Becky’s face melted. “I don’t know this time. I’ll call in and check.” She huffed. “Worth a try.”
I rubbed my cheek across his head. His purr revved almost to the decibel level of a lawn mower. A defensive gesture. He must have known instinctively something was awry. Of course the suitcases may have been a clue.
Becky returned with half
of her lower lip tucked under her teeth. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jen. This time it won’t work. You’re leaving the U.S.”
I slumped onto the bed. “What?”
Becky took the animal from my arms. “You’re headed for Europe. The agency said immigration laws for pets have relaxed. He wouldn’t require quarantine if we could get the EU P.E.T. papers in order. There just isn’t time.” She stroked him behind the ears, and he leaned into her hand. “Maybe I can take him. In a few weeks, I might be able to ship him to you.”
I reached over to scratch Tom Cat under the chin. My voice quivered. “And have Robert’s goons track me through him?”
Becky’s face paled. I tilted my head, my eyes zeroing in on her expression. It worried me. “What are you not telling me?”
She put on her official air. “We’ll get him before that happens, Jen. You won’t be overseas very long. Unless, of course, you decide otherwise. Right now your work visa is set for six months max.”
“And, where am I going?”
Her cheeks took on a glow. She set Tom Cat down and clapped her hands together. “Well, I should let the one who’s handling the op points tell you, but…” Her voice lowered. “How does Bath on the Avon in Southern England sound? There is an American Museum there. They’d…how did the director put it? Ah, ‘kill for a Yank with a Texas accent’ to work their gift shop.”
Becky’s British accent screamed amateur, but I got the gist. I mustered a grin. “Spot on. Tally ho.” My imitation was just as bad.
At one time it had been a dream of mine to visit Great Britain, home of my ancestors. My mother had British roots, Dad had Irish. I’d written papers on both countries in high school. Did the agency know that? It wouldn’t surprise me if they did.
Becky cocked her head, no doubt expecting me to be more pleased. Still, thoughts of Tom anchored my emotions. Besides, being relocated to a whole new country supported only by a hammock of lies fluttered my nerves. I wished I’d taken drama class more seriously in tenth grade.
I shrugged. “We’ll have a good time, right?”
“I’m not going with you, Jen.” Becky closed my suitcase. She lifted her gaze to my face. “Someone else, a woman named Glenda, will settle you in. She’s with the National Crime Agency who now handles witness protection in the U.K. It’s like the British FBI.”
“How much trouble has this put you in?”
She gave me a quick grin. “Less than you think. I am loyal, you know. I informed my superiors as soon as Tom contacted me.” She took my hands and sat me on the bed. “Honey, Robert escaped, and he’s met with Tom.”
“Tom told me.”
She studied my face and nodded. “The agency hoped if I let Tom know where you were, he’d bring you the child, and Robert or his men would follow.”
I breathed deeply through my nose. “And they have.” Let’s hope the same thing will happen again.
“Yep. So, now we part. Thus, my cover is protected.”
I blinked. How many more goodbyes lay in my future? “I’ll miss you.”
She drew me into a hug. “Me, too.”
I pulled back. “How much danger am I in, Becky?”
She placed a motherly hand on my cheek. “None, my dear. You will be well guarded all the way. No worries.”
Right.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I closed my suitcase and clicked it. The sound echoed through my whole being as if I’d shut off my life—again. What did the federal marshals have in store for me now? Who would I be? I wanted to crawl under the bed and hide forever.
We carried my things to the front stoop. Becky once again played the role of my matronly auntie as we walked across the street to tell my watchful neighbor I’d had a death in the family and would be out of town for a while. Another lie, and yet almost the truth. Something had died—my current existence. My eyes began to fill, but I swallowed the sadness one more time. Practice makes perfect.
“I understand,” the man said as he handed me his hankie. “I’ll promise to water the hedges and pick up your mail, my girl.” He’d been pulling miniscule sprigs of dollar weeds from his immaculate front lawn. A daily routine. “But what about that sweet cat who watches for you in the window?”
Becky smiled. “I’m looking after him.”
As we walked back, Becky giggled. “Nosy old coot, isn’t he?”
I managed a small smile. “He’s why we don’t need a formal neighborhood watch.”
“Good acting on the being sad part though.” She stopped and locked her gaze unto mine. “Oh, Jen. I am sorry. This is devastating you, isn’t it?”
I took a deep breath. “Tell me it gets easier.”
She patted my shoulder. “Wish I could.”
When we got back inside, she explained the plan. “In a few days the moving company will show up. A letter from your attorney is being sent to your employer explaining you inherited a ranch and will be permanently relocating back to Texas, along with a large donation to the library fund. As word spreads, people will accept it.”
“Except me. And you, and Tom, and probably Robert…” I hugged Tom Cat. My eyes welled once again. Saying goodbye to two Tom’s in one day wore on me.
“Don’t be so quick to include your husband. Don’t you trust us to keep you safe?”
“Sure. It’s worked well thus far.”
Becky gently peeled the cat out of my arms, placed him in the carrier and led me to the taxi. I knew the driver was not with Yellow Cab. His governmental sunglasses gave him away.
We rode in silence, except for Tom Cat’s soft inquiring mews. I think he understood what farewell entailed. Once in a while I stuck my finger through the bars of the kennel for him to rub them. Twice the tears flowed down my cheeks. So much for the rational human being conversation I’d plan to have.
“I’m very sorry, Jen. Really.” Becky looked out the window and left me alone.
In Gainesville, we stopped at a nondescript office building. It had a reflective glass front and must have been six or seven stories tall. Business men and women dashed in and out as they texted into their cell phones or jabbered through a Bluetooth, barely acknowledging each other’s existence. Drones. I didn’t miss the corporate world at all.
“Well, here we are.” Becky slid out from the back seat and motioned me to follow.
I gave Tom Cat one more rub with my finger through the cage.
“He’ll be okay, Jen. I promise. We need to go.”
* * *
Up the elevator six floors, a guide escorted to a spa. Becky pulled out a photograph. “Make her look like this as much as possible.”
I craned my neck to view a young woman on a horse with short dark hair. My hand shook as I ran it through my ginger shoulder-length locks one last time.
“Is this all necessary?”
Her nod answered my question.
The hairdresser and his two assistants studied the photo while also eying me over. “Bone structure’s similar.” He tented his fingers. “Very well. We can make it work.”
“See you in a few,” Becky sang-sung with a wiggle of her fingers, I guess in an effort to cheer me up. Not that it worked.
One of the assistants asked me to follow her into the changing room where I disrobed and put on a plush, velour zip-up cover. I shuffled in one-size-fit-none slippers to the shampoo station. They dyed my hair a chestnut brown and cut it in a short, layered bob. Bluish-gray contact lenses completed the transformation. Well, I’d secretly wanted the deep azure eyes like my mother’s as a child, instead of mine which had so much hazel around the edges. Perhaps this might be a silver lining—minuscule, but one anyway.
The hair stylist team leaned back to admire their work and all nodded. “You look amazing, my dear.” He winked, hands clasped in front of his chest.
Next, they led me down a hall to an even more nondescript frosted-glass office door. Edwards & Edwards Consultants, it read. Consultants in what?
Inside a small waiting area, a love s
eat and two abstract-patterned winged-back chairs completed the professional, yet cozy look. Becky perched in one of them, reading a magazine. A woman my age in a peach linen business suit scooted out of the chair behind a mahogany desk. “Mr. Edwards will be with you momentarily. Coffee? Water?”
I chose water.
Becky grinned. “Very nice, my dear. Almost didn’t recognize you.”
I patted my short hair and bit my lip. “Do you really think so?”
Becky placed a hand on my cheek. “It’ll grow on you.”
I huffed. “Maybe.”
Edwards opened one of the inner doors, as if on cue, and led us down a hall to a nicely furnished office. He motioned us each to sit in one of the two evergreen-leathered chairs facing an executive desk neatly stacked with what appeared to be official papers. Middle-aged, slightly balding and reeking of musky orange aftershave, he reached in a drawer and pulled out a passport. He flipped it open and read. “Here, Mrs. Manning. That’s you.” He leaned over and slid the booklet across the desk in my direction. My new appearance stared back at me in an official sized photo. The first name read N-i-a-m-h.
I pointed to it. “As in knee-am?”
He scratched his chin. “No, as in Nieve—like a sleeve. It is a common Irish name. Some Brits do spell it as N-i-e-v-e nowadays. But, some believe it shows lack of class and education, you see.” His sentence ended in a sniff.
“Right.”
“Your paternal grandmother came from Irish minor royalty. You were named after her. Thus, your Irish heritage. We felt it was so much a part of your personality we should not disguise that fact.”
I gave him a slight bob of my head. “So now I’m a Black Irish. Blue eyes, dark hair.”
He nodded. “Like your father, correct?”
And like Tom. Was that why I was attracted to him? “So, you’ve done your homework.” I crossed my leg. “I guess you also discovered my mother’s mother immigrated from Portsmouth. Mother raised me to embrace the English customs. Is that why I am being planted in England?”
Legitimate Lies Page 5