Witness Protection Widow (Winchester, Tn. Book 5)

by Debra Webb

  Instead, it had been the biggest mistake of her life.

  Somehow she’d drifted off to sleep again, and now she dreaded leaving this quiet room. She’d heard people stirring. Heard the low rumble of Jax’s voice as well as the softer voice of a woman. Rowan DuPont, she imagined. Ali had met her only briefly last night. Like Ali, she had long blond hair. She, too, had that look in her eyes—the one that said she had experienced deep pain.

  Ali righted her sweatshirt and smoothed a hand over her jeans-clad hips. Bob waited by the door watching her. He was probably starving. Rowan had a dog, too. Thankfully Freud hadn’t seemed to mind the company—not even Bob. The two dogs had eyed each other speculatively but neither bothered to growl.

  Ali needed fresh clothes. Hopefully, Sheriff Tanner could bring her clothes from the cabin. She slipped on her shoes and ran a brush through her hair again. Then she headed out to learn what would happen next.

  The living room was empty. Listening for the voices, she followed the sound into the kitchen. Both Jax and Rowan turned her way as she entered the room.

  “Good morning.” Rowan smiled. “The coffee is strong and hot, and Billy made breakfast before he had to head to the office.”

  A chief of police who cooked. Judging by Rowan’s smile, she was very happy that he did. “Thank you.”

  Jax poured a mug full of the steaming brew and passed it to her. She thanked him.

  “There’s cream and sugar,” Rowan said, “if you don’t like it black.”

  “Black is fine.” Ali noticed that Jax remembered. She kept her gaze away from his for fear he would recognize that she had noticed.

  Rowan crossed the room and picked up a plastic bowl filled with kibbles and placed it on the floor. “Bob,” she said to the dog, “this is for you.”

  Bob trotted over to the bowl and dug in.

  “Thank you,” Ali said to her, immensely grateful for the extra mile.

  Rowan smiled. “Well, I have a client coming at nine. I should probably start preparations.”

  “Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Ali offered. She was immensely grateful to all the people who had gone to such lengths to help her do this.

  “Good luck, Ali,” Rowan said. “You’re doing the right thing.”

  Ali nodded and watched her go. She wondered at the things the woman had been forced to do in her life. There was a sadness about her, but it didn’t overwhelm her. Ali hoped the past few years would not define her for the rest of her life.

  She stared at the lovely breakfast spread across the counter. Eggs, biscuits, bacon. Her stomach knotted at the thought of eating.

  “You have to eat.”

  She turned to the man, who could clearly still read her like an open book. “I’m really not hungry.”

  “You’re going to need all the strength and courage you can muster. To do that, you need to eat.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve already eaten.”

  She gathered a plate and fork and went through the motions, forcing herself to consume a few bites of egg and a biscuit. Once she started, her appetite roused and kept the ordeal from being entirely awful.

  The coffee gave her a shot of energy, chasing away the lingering shadows from last night’s drama.

  “How long will we be staying here?” It wasn’t the idea of the funeral home below that bothered her. The trouble was that her presence put Rowan and anyone else here in danger. Ali didn’t want anyone to suffer because of her.

  “Tanner and Holloway should have a new safe house for us in a few hours. The last time we spoke, he was going to check out a location.”

  She downed the last gulp of her coffee. “What about my clothes from the cabin? Is there any chance he can bring those?”

  “One of his deputies brought your things to the sheriff’s office. They’ll be at the new location when we arrive.”

  “Great.” She needed a shower. She needed clean clothes and some time away from the rest of the world.

  This time three days from now, she would be sitting in a courtroom preparing to testify against old man Armone. It seemed strange that the idea of testifying didn’t scare her. She looked forward to the opportunity. Worry about who would get hurt ensuring she had that opportunity gnawed at her relentlessly. She thought of Marshal Holloway and his wife and daughter. Sheriff Tanner and his family. She thought of Chief Brannigan and Rowan. And she thought of Jax.

  So many people who could be hurt.

  Rather than dwell on the worrisome thoughts, she busied herself cleaning up. She tucked the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Someone had already cleaned the stove and washed the cooking utensils. There was really nothing else she could do in here. Rather than try making amiable conversation with Jax, she went back to the bedroom and made up the bed.

  When she was finished, she lingered. The desk in the room was covered with dozens of notebooks. She walked closer and decided the notebooks were journals. This had been Rowan’s parents’ room. They were both gone now. She wondered if the journals were her mother’s.

  She touched an open page, traced the handwriting. Her own mother hadn’t kept a journal. But she had meticulously documented each photo in the family photo albums. Time and place and a note about whatever was happening. Her father had been far more pragmatic. He was eternally focused on work and what needed to be done next. A farmer’s life was challenging. Hard work, lots of worry and rarely a decent payoff for the two.

  Certain she had sequestered herself in this room for as long as possible without risking Jax showing up to check on her, she walked back into the living room. He was in the kitchen, his low voice and the cell phone tucked against his ear telling her he’d heard from someone. Perhaps there was news about what happened next.

  Then again, it could be a personal call. He’d said he’d never married and had never been engaged—which was not entirely true—but that didn’t mean he was without a girlfriend. He could have someone up in Nashville waiting for him to come home. The idea hadn’t even entered her mind. She had expected him to be married and have a kid or two. That he was not had thrown her for a bit of a loop. Maybe he enjoyed the bachelor lifestyle too much.

  He was only thirty-two. He could certainly enjoy a decade more of the single life before bothering to settle down. Made life far less complicated. As a marshal, he could be gone for days or weeks at a time. Without a wife or children to worry about, he was free as a bird.

  He hadn’t been pathetically needy and lonesome the way she had been.

  Bob most likely needed to go outside and do his business. It was possible Jax had taken him out earlier, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t see any reason why she couldn’t take him out.

  “Come,” she said to the animal as she patted her leg.

  Bob trotted over, and the two of them exited the living quarters, heading for the staircase. Since there was a fenced backyard, she wouldn’t have to worry about the leash. At the top of the stairs, she looked down at the lobby. The place was certainly grand enough. Behind her a towering stained-glass window depicted angels ascending toward heaven. As she descended the staircase, she surveyed the numerous elegant sitting areas—conversation groupings of furniture. The double entrance doors were equally grand.

  It really was a beautiful place.

  “Hey, Ali.”

  She turned to Rowan, who was walking toward her down a corridor. On the wall, arrows pointed to that corridor showing that the lounge and restrooms as well as the office were in that direction.

  “Hi. I thought I should take Bob out, if it’s okay.”

  “Of course. Follow me.”

  Rowan led the way through a set of doors labeled Staff Only. Another corridor seemed to lead to the back of the house. Doors lined the corridor, but none were labeled. Toward the end was an elevator. Next to the back door was another set of dou
ble doors and a second staircase, this one rather narrow.

  Her guide opened the back door and waited for Bob to trot out across the porch.

  She watched him for a moment then smiled at Ali. “He’ll be fine outside. Did you need anything else?”

  Ali shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait here to let him in.”

  “All right.”

  Rowan walked away, and Ali’s gaze returned to the backyard.

  Bob and Freud were prancing around in the snow.

  She would love to go out there and join them, but it wouldn’t be safe.

  For nine months now, everything had revolved around keeping her safe. She’d lived like a recluse. Barely setting foot outside where anyone might see her. Bob had been her only constant companion.

  If she survived this, she wanted to do more with her life. Have a real career. Make a difference.

  Have a family.

  The idea that Jax’s face came immediately to mind when she thought of family warned that she was in more danger than anyone knew.

  * * *

  THE HOUSE WAS rustic like a cabin but with all the amenities of a contemporary home. It sat deep in the woods, high on a hillside. To reach the house, Jax had to drive across a stream and up a steep, curvy road that was just barely wide enough to accommodate his SUV. The narrow road had been carved out of the mountainside. Looking over the edge might have been a little unsettling if not for the dense, soaring trees on both sides. Many were bare for the winter, but many more were evergreens and blocked the view of the dirt track from the paved road below.

  Not that Jax was particularly worried about anyone finding them too quickly. The right he’d taken off Highway 64 as they neared Huntland had wound deep into the countryside. The only sign of civilization was the worn-out asphalt that was just shy of two actual lanes and the occasional farmhouse. They drove for miles without seeing a thing except trees and that faded asphalt snaking out ahead of them before a small white house surrounded by barns two or three times its size and sweeping pastures appeared. More trees followed.

  This, Jax decided, was the sticks. He made a left just past the curve Tanner had described. If possible, this road was even less populated. Trees, trees and more trees. He spotted the wide stream, ice crusting its outer edge. The temperature hadn’t risen high enough to melt off the snow. It clung to the branches of trees and the landscape like a coating of powdered sugar on the chocolate cake his mom made every year at Christmas. The memory had his stomach rumbling. Breakfast had been hours ago.

  After a meeting with Holloway and Tanner, they sat in on a conference call with the AUSA from Nashville, Adam Knowles. He and his counterpart in Atlanta had decided that a conference call was necessary to ensure Ali was ready for trial. Tomorrow morning at eleven they were to be in Nashville at the AUSA’s office.

  Jax didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one damned bit. Holloway was mad as hell. He’d refused at first, but eventually the AUSA had won him over. Now it was up to Jax to take all sorts of back roads and unexpected routes to get Ali to the man’s office. She hadn’t objected. She’d basically agreed to whatever he suggested. Even her damned attorney, who was also on the call, hadn’t objected.

  Who the hell was the guy working for?

  Still furious, Jax unloaded the last of their supplies from his SUV. This house and its forty mountainous acres belonged to a close friend of Tanner’s. It was unoccupied just now, but the power remained on for insurance purposes. The house remained furnished, since the family used it from time to time when they visited their hometown. Just beyond the house, a large water tank sat on a towering stand and gathered water from the underground streams coming from the mountainside. The house also had a generator and a basement.

  All the comforts of home—and fully self-sustainable.

  Tanner had provided Jax with additional ammo and an extra handgun. Jax had turned on the lights downstairs and checked the two bedrooms upstairs. There was a bathroom upstairs and down. A big kitchen and nice-size family room. The fireplace was huge. Firewood was stacked on the back porch.

  It was almost like a vacation rental, except it wasn’t.

  Ali stood by the fire he’d started as if she couldn’t get warm after walking around the property to get familiar with the territory.

  “You hungry?” She hadn’t eaten much at breakfast.

  “I’m good with a peanut butter sandwich.” She turned and walked toward the kitchen.

  Bob looked at him before following her.

  He did the same. “Peanut butter it is, then.”

  Food wasn’t usually such a dominating subject on his mind, but it was a topic he could broach with her without worrying where it might lead.

  After she had prepared her sandwich, he did the same. While he placed two slices of bread on a napkin, she went to a fridge for a bottle of water. She passed one to him.

  “Thanks.” He placed it on the counter and continued spreading peanut butter on one slice of bread.

  Without a word, she took her lunch to the family room.

  “I guess I’m in for the silent treatment,” he said to Bob, who had hesitated before following her.

  He slapped the two slices of bread together and grabbed his water, then took the same path she had taken. She stood at the front window peeking through the blinds. Her sandwich and water had been abandoned on the coffee table.

  “It’s snowing again.”

  She said this as if she were speaking to herself rather than to anyone in particular. He joined her at the window and leaned his head to the right far enough to see through the two slats she had parted. She drew away the slightest bit.

  “Looks like the meteorologist got it right for once.” Snow had been in the forecast, but in this part of the country there was rarely a follow-through.

  She released the slats and walked back to the sofa. It was a large L-shaped one. He settled on the opposite end from her. He didn’t need a crystal ball to tell him she wasn’t interested in having him too close.

  “You worried about tomorrow?” He tore off a bite of the sandwich and chewed as he waited for her response.

  “Not really.” She nibbled her sandwich, eating like a bird.

  “I’ve already mapped out a route.” He’d been thinking about it since the command performance was issued. There was little likelihood of them being discovered en route with the precautions he had outlined. There was always the risk that their travel plans could be leaked. It had happened before. To ensure that didn’t happen again, he had not provided the route he intended to take to anyone. Better to be safe than sorry.

  “I’m not worried,” she said in case he hadn’t gotten it the first time.

  She chewed and swallowed, chewed and swallowed. Clearly she wasn’t enjoying the food. He figured if he hadn’t mentioned that they should eat, she wouldn’t have bothered. It was his job to keep her safe and to ensure she was ready to testify at trial on Thursday. To that end, his duties included seeing that she ate, slept and behaved responsibly.

  “If you have any questions about how things will go on Thursday, I can probably answer them.” She hadn’t asked a single question during the conference call.

  “I don’t have any questions.” She drank more of her water and wadded the napkin she’d used for a plate.

  “Good.” He finished his sandwich and chugged the rest of his water.

  The silence was deafening. He considered going back to the kitchen and making coffee, but the enthusiasm just wasn’t there. There were things he wanted to ask...to say, but none of it would come out the way he wanted. He was too angry about what she had done. Angry might not be the right word. He wasn’t exactly angry. He was disappointed. The crazy part was he had no right to feel either way.

  As she had so accurately pointed out, he’d been the one to leave.

  No point going
down that path again.

  He stood and returned to the kitchen. Tossed his trash and made a pot of coffee. The silence was a lot easier to tolerate if he found some way to occupy himself.

  The scent of fresh-brewed coffee filled the air, and he relaxed marginally. Today and tonight were going to pass painstakingly slowly. They had both said plenty, maybe too much on some subjects. There was nothing else to discuss.

  Words weren’t going to change deeds.

  What was done was done.

  “I do have one question.”

  Surprised that she had walked into the room without him detecting her presence, he turned to face her. “What might that be?”

  “The day we go to trial, will you be wearing a bulletproof vest?”

  So they were back to his safety, were they? “I’ve already told you there’s no reason for you to worry about me. I know how to do this.”

  She stared at him, unblinking, determined. “You asked me if I had any questions. That’s my question.”

  “Yes. And so will you.”

  Apparently satisfied with his answer, she turned and walked away.

  Was it possible that she was actually that worried about him?

  He shook his head. Made no sense.

  Chapter Seven

  The snow had stopped, leaving enough to cover the grass and adorn the trees and rooftop. Ali had always liked snow, but growing up in Georgia she had rarely seen it outside Christmas movie marathons. On the rare occasion it did snow, it was a given that it wouldn’t last long. Vivid memories of both her parents romping in the snow with her when she was a child assaulted her, took her breath.

  Bob nudged her with his nose, and she smiled down at him. “Sorry, boy, I was lost in thought.”

  Somewhere close by, Jax would be trailing her. There wasn’t really any place to go unless she wanted to attempt climbing higher up the mountain. The edge of the tree line provided a sweeping view of the valley below. Even the faded asphalt far below that zigzagged through the valley was covered in snow. Not a single vehicle had driven along that road since their arrival. She hoped they would be safe here until the day after tomorrow, when they headed to Atlanta for the trial.