Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

  “Pat promised her he was fine. He’s stubborn, like someone else I know.”

  “Where is Pat?”

  The little man stepped into the hall, which was lined with cardboard boxes. Pat’s stuff? John zeroed in on his son’s face—a mini version of his own but with Ellen’s nose before she had it fixed. Pat looked at his feet, rubbing one shoe against the toe of the other.

  “Pat?”

  His son looked up.

  John bit his lip. “Hey, kid.”

  Grant frowned. John’s brother and his wife had three girls—now teenagers—so he might think he was the expert on parenting, but Grant had never understood the bond between father and son. At least, John hoped they still had one. Maybe he’d killed it.

  He rubbed his chest, right above his heart. Pat’s eyes were wide but he didn’t look angry or upset. That was good, right? John sank to his knees in the foyer, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He rubbed his forehead, his fingers scratching at the bandage. Right. His head. He’d forgotten about that.

  “Dad?” Pat’s voice shook.

  John lowered his hand. “I’m okay.”

  He tilted his head and motioned Pat over. Okay, that hurt. Thankfully Pat didn’t hesitate, so John didn’t have to suffer Grant watching him fail as a father for the seven-billionth time. It was bad enough without an audience.

  Pat’s steps gathered speed as he crossed the foyer. John opened his arms and Pat hit him at a full tackle, knocking John onto his backside. He wrapped his arms around his eight-year-old son and held him for the first time in a year. The assignment wasn’t supposed to have taken this much time, but he’d known going in it would be as long as it took to complete the job.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Pat’s body jerked. “You don’t want me to live with you?”

  “Buddy—”

  “I can stay here with Grandma. It’ll be fine.”

  John touched his cheeks, the same way Pat had done with him in the picture. “Listen to me now. I’m not going anywhere, not anymore.”

  He hoped Grant heard him, just as much as Pat. Because John didn’t want any more assignments.

  And if his brother didn’t like it, he was going to quit.

  Chapter 2

  “I can’t believe you’re not mad at her. I would be furious.”

  John flashed his badge to the lone security guard at the rear entrance and followed his brother Grant into the back of the Congressional building, re-holstering his weapon. “I am mad. Why do you think I’m not? But it’s not like I can be angry at Ellen for leaving Pat—”

  “Abandoning him.” Grant clipped down the strap holding his gun in place.

  “Not when I essentially did the same thing a year ago.”

  Grant stopped, the clip of his dress shoes echoing in the abandoned hall. “That wasn’t your fault.”

  Why weren’t there more people around? “I took the assignment.”

  “I was the one who gave it to you.”

  John cracked a smile. “So we’re both to blame then. But neither of us are hypocrites.

  Grant smiled back a bigger-and-better-at-everything version of John. Ellen’s words had hit a little too close to home. But who didn’t have someone in their life whose opinion mattered more than anything?

  “How’s your head?”

  John could feel the bandage but other than that… “I guess I have a hard head.”

  Grant clapped him on his shoulder. “Knew that already.”

  John backed away, wincing. “My shoulder is sore, though.”

  “Sorry. You could probably use some downtime, huh?”

  “That was the plan. Now mom is taking Pat to a movie and for some reason I’m here with you.”

  “Because I’m your boss.”

  John sighed. “So what are we doing here?”

  “In this hallway?”

  “In D.C. In this building.” John shrugged. “I’ve got better things to do than watch you politicking.”

  Grant folded his arms. “Not if you want to keep your job.”

  “Fine, Mr. High-and-Mighty Director. What’s the deal? Why are we here?”

  Something crept into Grant’s eyes. A satisfaction borne of cunning John hadn’t realized his brother possessed.

  “Okay, spill. What is this?”

  “You want time with your son, you get a new assignment.” Grant turned and continued down the hall. “Maybe.”

  Seriously, why was this place so desolate? It was like the grocery store during the Super-Bowl. “What is this maybe?”

  Grant opened the door at the end a cavernous room with plenty of chairs, all empty. Four people—one woman and three men—sat at a high table at the front. Evidently Grant had an appointment at a congressional hearing and no-one else had been invited. The panel all wore suits in shades of drab. The woman was smiling, glancing from the men beside her to Grant and back with a light in her eyes.

  A stout, older man left of center looked up. “Director Mason, nice of you to join us.”

  Grant stopped behind the table but didn’t sit. “This hearing is scheduled for five-thirty, is it not?”

  John stopped at the first row of chairs and checked his watch. Five-twenty. He sat on the opposite side of the aisle.

  “We moved up the timetable. Your secretary was informed.”

  “She was. The amendment was forwarded to me, but I’m a busy man. Last minute changes designed only to disrupt my schedule and throw me off my game aren’t something I intend to acquiesce to.”

  The stout man picked up a pair of spectacles and focused on the page in front of him. “The rest of us have things to do, so let’s get on with this.”

  Grant didn’t react and he hadn’t brought any papers with him. Still, there was no way he was unprepared. John had rarely seen him lose his cool over anything.

  The stout man, who John decided to refer to as pompous windbag, cleared his throat. “The town of Sanctuary has been in operation for thirty-eight years. There are currently one hundred eighty-two residents—”

  “It’s actually one hundred eighty-three. There was a birth recorded two weeks ago.”

  “Be that as it may, the federal witness protection program has chosen to seclude each of these high-profile targets for a reason.” He lowered the paper and looked over his glasses. “And you wish to close the town?”

  Grant rested only his fingertips on the desk, his eyes on the panel. “Sanctuary started out as an experiment. It was never designed to continue on a permanent basis. Yes, several of the witnesses are recognizable household names. But we’ve relocated famous people before. There’s a strategy in place. Sending them to Sanctuary to see if they could survive as a community in their own right is a gigantic security breach waiting to happen.”

  John wasn’t looking at his brother any longer; he was looking at the director of the U.S. Marshals. A man he didn’t see too often outside of the occasional briefing they were both present at.

  “I’m honestly surprised we’ve managed to keep the lid on an entire town for this long. But the potential threat is something which cannot be ignored. If anyone discovered Sanctuary exists, the result would be catastrophic. Everyone in the town would need to be relocated immediately and not without great expense to the tax payer.”

  Pompous windbag’s eyes widened. “And I suppose you think we’re going to overlook the astronomical expense of relocating each of these families now, providing them with a stipend until they can find employment and arranging for housing. Not to mention the personnel required to transport each of them to their new homes, should the town be closed.”

  “It would be a lot. But—”

  “And all because you feel that the potential security risk is too high.”

  John glanced at the Thane, recognizing him now he was able to put the name with the face. The guy was never happy about anything, constantly on news programs complaining about one thing or another.

  Grant’s shoulders stiffened, but John figured only
he noticed it. “Congressman Thane, with all due respect, my job is to understand the risks and take the necessary steps to protect these people.”

  The congressman to Thane’s left huffed. “And our job is to sign the checks.”

  “Which is why we’re all here.” Grant sighed. “I suppose you have made your decision then?”

  The female, Congresswoman Stefanie Shafer, nodded like the teacher’s pet, sure she knew the answer. “The town will remain open.”

  Congressman Thane didn’t look at her. “Sanctuary will indeed remain as is. If you wish to keep these people safe, then do so. But not at further cost to taxpayers. You want to avoid a security breach? That’s your job. We’re not spending more on this. Granted, some of these people are likely innocents. But the vast majority of them turned state’s evidence to escape a sentence of their own. That cannot be ignored.”

  Grant’s head shook. The movement was so small John wondered if he’d even seen it. “The United States Attorney seemed to feel the conviction gained by the testimony of each of these witnesses was valuable enough to warrant the expense of enrolling them in WITSEC in the first place. If you feel differently, perhaps he should be here instead of me.” He paused. “Be that as it may, we do not pander to our witnesses. Each of them has provided a valuable service to the justice department and in return has been given the chance to start a new life.”

  “A clean slate, just like that?”

  Grant sighed. “We are not here to discuss the merits of the witness protection program. We’re here to ensure the safety of all the citizens of this country, whoever they may be. Sanctuary was never designed to exist in the long term. The town’s infrastructure is woefully outdated and in order to remain open, Sanctuary requires an influx of federal funding simply to be brought up to code.”

  Congressman Thane’s mouth opened and shut, causing his jowls to wobble. “Well, I never…”

  “If your intention is simply to save the government money, I assure you closing the town will be far more cost effective in the long term. Sanctuary will continue to grow. If the justice department continues to enroll protectees into the witness protection program, I will have no other choice than to send some of them to Sanctuary.”

  John waited, his mind spinning around the idea of a town established entirely for the sake of housing high-profile witnesses. If it was true, it was such a secret he’d never even heard a rumor of it. In the community of law enforcement that was next to unreal. And what on earth did it have to do with his—maybe—next assignment?

  The woman leaned toward her microphone, not that it was needed when it was just the six of them in the room. “We will need some time to further deliberate.”

  John glanced between Grant and the panel. He wanted them to spend more money and keep the town open? There was no way they were going to go for that.

  “We most certainly will not deliberate further.” Congressman Thane shoved the woman’s mic away from her and spoke into his own. “Despite what you have said, the town of Sanctuary will remain open. A reasonable budget will be provided for necessary renovations. That is the final decision of this panel.”

  The woman’s lips pressed together. John stared at Thane. Why did he want the town to stay open if it was going to cost more money? In claiming the town had to be closed, Grant had strategically maneuvered more money for the town to remain open. Had that been his plan all along?

  “Very well.” Grant nodded. “Thank you all for your time.”

  John got up and followed him out, trailing behind his brother like always. The minute the door shut, John said, “A WITSEC town?”

  Grant stopped. “This goes no further than that room.”

  “What’s the assignment?”

  “The sheriff of Sanctuary has cancer. Terminal. He’s being transferred out this afternoon so there’s an opening.”

  John stared at his brother. “You want me to take my son to a town full of federal witnesses?”

  “The job isn’t much more than light duty as the sheriff and security drills. It’s mostly keeping your finger on the pulse of those people and then letting them live their lives.” Grant ran a hand through his hair, his “Director” persona evaporating. “I need someone I can trust there, someone I know who needs a fresh start himself. A change of pace for his family.”

  “Except my family is here.”

  “I mean Pat.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  Grant’s eyebrows lifted.

  “So you want me to do what Ellen did? Go spend quality time with my son in this secret town and never see the rest of you ever again.”

  “We’ll have to work out the details.” Grant grinned. “Maybe Sanctuary can host the Mason family Christmas this year.”

  “Despite the security risk?”

  “Potential risk.”

  “You realize this is nepotism, right?”

  “Not if everything about it has been redacted.”

  John started walking. “You need someone to take this job and I’m the only one you can force into it. Because I’m your brother and you know I won’t say no. Not to mention I just sat through the meeting wherein I found out this secret. So either I sign away my free speech or I take the job.” He sighed. “I’m guessing, wherever this town is, there are mountains on either side called a rock and a hard place.”

  “Quit being so dramatic. This will be good for you, somewhere you and Pat can spend time together. A slower pace of life, away from all the risk inherent in your usual assignments.”

  “If it’s that great, why don’t you take the job?”

  Grant ignored the question. “Family oriented, small town. Nestled in the mountains, surrounded by trees and blue skies.”

  “Read the brochure much?”

  “I wrote it, actually.”

  “I believe you.” John folded his arms, even though it hurt. “But this all seems just a little too convenient. My assignment ended hours ago, the result of a breach that captured Alphonz and, look at that, just in time to get out of town and hide away.”

  The muscle in Grant’s jaw flexed.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Grant blew out a breath. “Fine. Alphonz is blowing whistles left and right, making sure everyone he’s ever met goes down with him. The U.S. attorney is talking deal.” He hesitated. “When Alphonz’s business associates discover a marshal was undercover, when Alphonz has been taken care of, who do you think they’re going to come after next?”

  “So will I be the sheriff of Sanctuary, or are you actually putting me in witness protection?”

  Grant’s head jerked in a shake, like he didn’t believe John had figured it out. “Honestly? A little of both.”

  “Were you planning on telling me this?” John paced away two steps and turned back. “You know, you didn’t have to twist everything for your sake. You could just explain for once.”

  “I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for Pat.”

  “So you’re the grand puppet-master, manipulating everything to be what you think is best for everyone else.” John folded his arms. Had his brother always been like this, or was he just now noticing it?

  “I’m helping you keep my nephew safe.”

  “Because you don’t think I can do it on my own, but you think I can sheriff a town? That makes no sense.”

  “It’s a good assignment.” Grant nodded. “A promotion. You should be proud I think you can do it.”

  “But you don’t think I can be a father. Is that why you gave me all those undercover assignments?”

  “If I did, then it didn’t work now, did it? Ellen quit. So I guess you’re going to have to step up. Your son needs you.”

  John studied his oldest brother. “What happened to you while I was away?”

  “Genevieve left me.”

  “What? When?”

  “Two months ago. Now I get the girls one weekend a month. I have eighteen months until Bev and Helen leave for college and then I’ll
as good as lose them forever.”

  “So you’re taking your issues out on me, is that it?” John glanced at the ceiling. “You can’t fix your family problems by forcing me to figure out my life. Ellen and I are divorced, we’re not going back there and I’m going to take this time to give Pat what he needs.”

  “Yeah, since yesterday.”

  John shifted. “Don’t lash out at me just because your family is in the toilet.”

  Grant lifted both hands. He let them fall, like they weighed too much to hold up. “I just want things to go back to normal.”

  “Uh…newsflash, dude. Women do not want that. They want stuff to be changing all the time, growing and improving. Tell me Genevieve never said anything to you about counseling.”

  “I’m not interested in a bandage.”

  John slung his arm around his brother’s neck. “Do you want her to divorce you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then listen up.”

  **

  John’s mom was in the kitchen, pulling a dish from the oven. “Hey.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, honey.” Her white-blond hair swayed with the movement as she danced to the tune of a song only she could hear. “Did you know a billion and a half pens are made every year but only a hundred million pencils?”

  “Uh…no.”

  Her heels clacked on the tile floor as she moved to the counter and the makings of a salad. “Pat and I had a lot of fun today. After the movie we went to the library and he found one of those weird fact books.”

  John smiled. “I’m glad.”

  He’d spent the whole ride back from D.C. reading the file on Sanctuary. It was insane how someone’s idea of witnesses forming their own community had spiraled into this actual thing, in existence now only slightly longer than John had been alive.

  After Grant dropped him off at his condo, he’d packed a bag and called a shipping company to get the rest of the things he wanted to keep. The bulk of it was going in storage until his mom could organize a garage sale. Or, that was the plan at least.

  “Where’s Pat now?”

  “He’s in his room, reading.” The corners of her lips turned down. “I think he tried to call his mom. I heard him leave a message but he didn’t want to talk about it.”