Blood Strangers: Behind Closed Doors: Family Secrets

by Hinze, Vicki

  Back inside, Gabby climbed the stairs. Exploring, she spotted two bedrooms, two baths, and the loft sitting area. In it, three walls were lined with books. She scanned the titles. An eclectic mix of fiction and nonfiction by familiar commercial and literary authors. The décor was warmer up here. The sofa plusher than the sleek off-white one downstairs. The owner clearly preferred sitting up here to read over watching TV downstairs. She liked it better, too.

  Walking on, she entered the master bedroom. The bed took up the lion’s share of the room. Appealing with its warm beige silk bedspread and drapes that matched the throw pillows on the king-size bed. Peeking through the window, she saw wooden shutters. Opening them, a beautiful view of the landscaped yard and, past it, woods with that wide trail. It led to a gazebo with two swings and bench seating. Beyond it was a little strip of beach and a body of water. Was that Christmas Cove? Pretty. She closed the shutters, and let the drapes fall back into place.

  The wrought-iron and heavy wood furniture were definitely masculine, but delicate and intricate carved details in the wood softened the hard lines. She would be comfortable here, she thought, then walked on into the adjoining bath.

  “Be still my heart.” A spa tub. A big one. And a glass-walled shower. It was a huge bath and closet. Unable to resist, Gabby turned the water on in the tub, let it begin to fill, and then moved to the closet, hoping it wasn’t empty and there’d be something in it she could wear.

  Clothes hung there. A man’s clothes. Extra Large. Big and tall labels. Had to be at least 6’2 to wear those. She moved from the hangers to the shelves, snagged a blue T-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. Could they be Shadow Watcher’s? That they might be his somehow comforted her, made her feel a little less alone. At the far end of the closet, she noticed a small washer and dryer stack.

  “It’s perfect.” Who this place belonged to might be a mystery, but no one could fault his taste. She’d expected rough and rustic. But she’d found the whole cottage warm and welcoming, comfortable and cozy, and it had an understated elegance she hadn’t expected to find in any wooded cottage, especially one in the middle of nowhere.

  Back in the bath she grabbed a towel, eager to wash away the road grime, call Shadow Watcher and report her arrival, and then crash in the bed she hoped would be as comfortable as it looked.

  How she slept tonight wouldn’t tell her a thing. She was so exhausted she could sleep standing up. Tomorrow night would be the big test.

  Half an hour later, dressed in the T-shirt and pajama bottoms, she crawled into bed and dialed Shadow Watcher on the burner phone.

  “Where have you been?” He sounded hyper-alert and anxious. “You should have arrived there nearly an hour ago.”

  “I’m here, and I did.” She should have phoned him first. His worry pulsed through the phone to her carrying serious guilt. “Sorry.” She said and meant it. “I took a bath.”

  “Oh.” He paused. “But you’re okay, right?”

  “I’m fine.” She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  “Thank God.” His relieved sigh cracked static through the phone.

  He had been seriously worried about her. Her guilt doubled. “I really am sorry I didn’t call right away.” She punched the pillow, settled in. “I—I’m not used to thinking about things like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Causing worry.” She dropped her voice, more than a little uncomfortable. But he deserved an explanation even if it embarrassed her. “It’s new to me.”

  “Surely your father—”

  “No.” Other kids had to report in, had curfews, phoned home when they’d be late. Her father kept her firmly on ignore and likely didn’t notice when she was there or not.

  “That explains a lot.”

  Having no idea what to say, she remained silent.

  “Are you finding everything okay at the cottage?”

  “Yes. It’s great.” She turned onto her side and grunted. “Whose clothes am I wearing?”

  “The owner’s,” he answered cryptically. “Sorry, I didn’t think about clothes.”

  “Does he always keep the fridge stocked?”

  “Not always.” Shadow Watcher paused again, as if wrestling with what to say and what to hold back. “You have a package incoming. Watch for it tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Two packages actually.”

  “What are they?” She swept her hair back from her face.

  “You’ll see. Nothing exciting, but definitely essential.”

  “Mysterious.”

  “A little.” He dropped his voice. “Until you get both, stay put in the cottage.”

  His uneasiness settled into her. She’d picked up on this tone before, when something had gone south on a child-finding mission. “Have we hit a snag on something?”

  “Everything is all right. You just need a few essentials before interacting with anyone. Lay low until then, okay?”

  “Okay.” Tilting the receiver away from her mouth, she yawned. “Thank you again for everything.”

  “Not necessary. Just call me when the packages arrive and keep your promise.”

  She’d promised not to get a few hours into the escape and turn around. Obviously, she had kept it. Had she made another promise and forgotten it? Possible, considering. “What promise exactly?”

  “Stay alive.”

  “I’ll do my best,” she said, and meant it, too. “In case I haven’t mentioned it, you’re awesome. Doing all this for me . . . Honestly, I’m overwhelmed.”

  “Remember you said that.” He sounded serious and yet a lightness in his tone laced his words with humor she didn’t get.

  “I will never forget. That, I can promise you.” No one ever had done for her what he had. Ever. “Night.”

  “Good night, GK. Sleep tight.”

  Thoughtful, she placed the phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp. Now why would he caution her to remember his kindnesses?

  Before she could answer that question—nearly before the question had fully formed in her mind, she fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thursday, December 10, 7:30 a.m.

  The first package arrived just as Gabby sat down to eat breakfast. It was a large white envelope, and she didn’t have to sign for it, which pleased her immensely since she had no idea what to claim as her name. Had he stuck with Johnson, or changed it again?

  A UPS guy in uniform dropped the package right outside the front door and rang the bell. He didn’t wait for a response.

  When he climbed back into his delivery truck and headed back down the driveway then drove out of sight, Gabby retrieved the package and took it back to the breakfast bar in the kitchen.

  She forked a cluster of scrambled eggs into her mouth, then reached for the envelope and opened it. Small items tumbled out: an Illinois driver’s license, a credit card, a new phone, and a wad of cash. She counted it. A thousand dollars.

  No note. Not a word, and she’d bet not a fingerprint.

  Gabriella Johnson. So that was to be her new name. Too formal a name for her choosing, but it was pretty and at least she had a name again. And, a great personal perk. She could still go by Gabby. Odd, how much better that made her feel. When you’ve lost everything, anything familiar helps loosen the knots in your stomach about being so isolated. For most of her life, she had thought she couldn’t be more isolated than she’d always been, but she had been wrong. Then she’d had her identity. Now even that was gone. The feeling of floating alone on the planet untethered and without anyone to even notify if she really died . . . that was the epitome of isolation.

  The ID, money and credit card mocked her thoughts.

  People floating alone didn’t get envelopes like this. She tapped a fingertip to the stack of money and credit card. Where had Shadow Watcher gotten this money and card?

  Heat surged up her neck to her face. She hoped the troops hadn’t had to take up a collection for her. That would be awful, especially co
nsidering all the work they’d already been doing on her behalf. Did she dare to dream they’d somehow gotten into her accounts and transferred her money to some obscure account she would be able to access? Afraid to even wish for that, instead she settled on being grateful for what she held in her hands. Some cash and a new identity. By the grace of God, she hadn’t been stopped between Jackson, Mississippi, and her arrival in Christmas Cove. Thinking about what would have happened had she been pulled over for anything put all those knots right back in her stomach.

  Dead women don’t drive.

  She finished her eggs, then phoned Shadow Watcher, hoping she didn’t wake him after keeping him up all night during her travels.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” she said. “Sleep well?”

  “Definitely. You get the packages?”

  “One of them.” She took a sip of hot coffee, watched the steam lift from the cup and coil in the air. “Where did all this come from?”

  “Don't worry, you’re legal.”

  Impossible. “How?”

  “We couldn’t trust Agent Bain, but I have an FBI contact who is trustworthy. He’s arranged things for you on the QT. Justin Wade is his name. You’ll find his mobile written inside the envelope.”

  She looked and saw the phone number written inside. “Okay. So, he provided the driver’s license and credit card?”

  “And the cash.”

  Not Shadow Watcher or the troops, but Justin Wade, an FBI friend of Shadow Watcher’s. No way was she going back to New Orleans to testify to anything. The vivid images of her father and Lucy that repeatedly popped into her mind warned her she’d end up just like them. “In exchange for what?”

  “He knows what you’re up against and doesn’t want to watch you die—again.”

  Her breath hitched in her chest. She swallowed a lump that lodged in her throat. “So, I’m already dead?” The Mustang was wrecked, and she was dead. That’s what Shadow Watcher was telling her, wasn’t it?

  “Just after dawn this morning.”

  Thursday, December 10th. Gabby Blake died at dawn. A chill swam through her body. She rubbed at her arm, seeking comfort. “Where?”

  “Florida,” he said.

  How had they gotten the Mustang to Florida? She halted the question before she asked. She really didn’t want to know. Ignorance wasn’t just bliss, it was protection for her and for Shadow Watcher, the troops and whoever else they recruited to assist them.

  “You ran off the road and down a steep embankment, clipped a massive pine and ended up in a shallow creek.”

  Her breath staggered.

  “Disconcerted?”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted. “Honestly, I am.”

  “I know this part is hard, and I’m sorry. But considering Medros is involved . . . Well, dead is your best defense. For what it’s worth, the troop vote was unanimous, and Justin agreed.”

  Medros had a long reach. “It’s a good call,” she admitted. If she had been voting, she’d have voted with them herself. “I just have to get used to it.” That was a remarkable understatement.

  “Logically, it’s the best option. Emotionally, it will take a little time.”

  “Yeah. I’m discovering that already.” She sighed. “So, what happens now?”

  “Now, you build a life.”

  It sounded so easy. So liberating. But how did she go about it, especially without resources? Thinking of all the money and assets she’d left behind soured her stomach. “I need a plan.”

  “For once, do something radical.”

  “Radical?” Wasn't what she’d just done radical enough? To her, she’d had a bellyful of radical.

  “Plan a life you really want,” he said. “It’s your turn now. Grab this chance with both hands.”

  She thumbed the edge of the envelope, sipped at her tangy orange juice. “That’s a whole new mindset for me.”

  “It is,” he said. “That can be a bit overwhelming. Having so many choices to make on so many things.”

  “A bit.” Actually, she was drowning in decisions that had to be made, and she likely hadn’t yet thought of all the questions.

  “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Please.” She tilted the phone, wiped at the counter with a dishcloth. “I’m sort of reeling.”

  “Anyone would be.”

  No judgment. No ridicule. And no pity. Just the facts. That made her feel a lot better. Calmer. “What’s your suggestion?”

  “Ditch all rules except one.”

  She paused, leaned a hip against the cabinet. “Which one?”

  “This is your life. Only include things in it that you love. Forget everything else.”

  She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. Impractical, but exciting. “That is radical.”

  “Yes, and it’s also overdue. It’s time to have a little faith in yourself, Gabby. You’ll settle into it, too.”

  She hoped he was right. Boy, did she hope it. “I think it’s going to take a while to get over the fear of being found.”

  “Why? No one looks for a dead woman.”

  “They don’t if they know the woman is dead.”

  “Oh, they’ll know. Troops are seeing to that. Actually, Agent Bain will be finding out in about half an hour. We notified the good detective who warned you to run—he’ll get the word out.”

  Detective Marsh. “He’ll suspect I followed his advice to vanish.”

  “If he acts on that in any way, we’ll know it. Then we’ll know which side he’s on, too.” Shadow Watcher’s voice dropped, hardened. “Medros will be informed before the morning is out.”

  So that would end it. They’d run checks to see if she’d communicated with anyone in Florida—she hadn’t—the case would go cold, and that would be that. Gabby Blake would be dead and gone and forgotten.

  Her life being so effortlessly erased both elated and bothered her. It should be hard to wipe out a life, shouldn’t it? Granted, it hadn’t been much of a life—her work at Handel, with Troop Search and Rescue, her semi-annual visits with her father—but it had been her life. After a few moments of shock at Handel, she really would be forgotten. It was pathetic really. The person who would most miss her would be Fitch. She wouldn’t be there to cover for him at work when he ran late.

  “I wouldn’t waste time being worried about anyone coming after you. You’re protected.”

  He, the troops and Justin Wade had seen to that. They’d had her back. And here she worried about a life she hadn’t been crazy about while living it. She shuddered. Realigned her thoughts. No more fear of being followed or watched. And no more emptiness, meaningless life. She wanted better. More. She wanted to matter to someone. “Thank you, SW. And thank Troop Search and Rescue for everything. I expect all this has had them in a whirlwind.”

  “It has been busy. But every single one knows if the shoe were on their foot, you’d be right there for them.”

  She would. And that they knew it made her feel a lot better about her old life. “I don’t know how I would have managed alone. Obviously, I couldn’t have—”

  “You’re not alone. Those days are gone. Never again will you be alone, Gabby. That’s a promise. Got it?”

  Her eyes stung. Such a good man. She smiled. “I’m seeing a shiny halo above your head.”

  He laughed. “Hardly.”

  The sound warmed her, and she actually smiled. “Whose home is this—in case someone asks?”

  “Just say Plumber’s cottage. Everyone in the cove knows Plumber, and no one uses addresses there.”

  “Does he live in the farmhouse?”

  “When he’s in town.”

  “Is he in town now? I should speak to him about how long it’s convenient for me to be here.”

  “Not at the moment, no. But you’re welcome to stay in the cottage indefinitely. Already arranged that. The cove is a friendly place, so long as you’re not anti-Christmas. They love Christmas there.”

  “I love it, too,”
she confessed. She’d made ornaments, put up the scraggly tree no one else wanted, listened to Christmas music, and started her own tradition of attending a different church service every Christmas morning then bingeing on Christmas movies. “I have zero experience celebrating it with other people, but it’s a wonderful—“

  “Well, you’re in the right place to celebrate it now. Look forward, not back. Oh, and you can trust Plumber. He’s away at the moment, but his sister is there.”

  “Can I trust her, too?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Not tracking, SW.”

  “Yes, she’s a good person, and if you need anything, you can contact her. Kelly Meyer. Her info is taped to the inside of the cabinet door near the fridge. But, no, she doesn’t know your story.”

  “Okay.” That thought was comforting. She had someone here and someone who would be here. “Why Johnson?” She wasn’t opposed to the name, but she was curious. Was there significance in it?

  “Why not?”

  “No reason. I just wondered.” So, was it his name, or Plumber’s real name? Or one picked out of thin air?

  “Justin had an emergency package put together. He kept Gabby because you shouldn’t have to lose that, too. Not after giving up everything else through no fault of your own.”

  “That was thoughtful of him.”

  “I might be crossing a line here, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

  She stiffened, bracing for whatever came. “Go ahead.”

  “Take a few days to think about the life you want to build, Gabby. Stay off the Troop Search and Rescue chat, off all your Internet media sites—that includes that familysecrets.life you often visit and sometimes quote—and don’t contact anyone on anything to do with your old life. More is inbound. Wait a couple days before venturing out. Until you get a better grip on your new circumstances.”