Reluctant Witness

by Barton, Sara M.

  “Le Scorpion, a ruthless drug trafficker, a man who has destroyed many lives with his evil. He was born Guillaume Chartier, but you, mademoiselle, know him better by his alias, Alain Beaumont.”

  A cold, dark force pierced my heart, taking my breath as it punched through my lungs. I felt the whoosh of air escape from my lips, even as this stranger moved to catch me. His strong, masculine arms held me fast as the night went black and I lost consciousness.

  When I came to, I was no longer in the shadows of the drying shed, but some distance away, in a grove of cacao trees. Inspecteur Noiret cradled me in his capable arms.

  “What happened?” I whispered, still feeling fragile.

  “You passed out. There is no need to panic, mademoiselle. We will capture Chartier. Have no fear.”

  “No,” I protested. “It’s not that. It’s that...it’s that...I just made him my partner in the business.”

  “You own this place?” Inspecteur Noiret sounded dismayed.

  I felt my throat go dry as I tried to speak. Suddenly, the emotional roller coaster ride of the last few weeks made sense. The man I had only known for little more than three months, the man who had swept me off my feet so unexpectedly, professing his undying love, was a fraud. Even as I had demurred, he pressed himself on me, insisting that it was to our mutual benefit. Even as I had gently refused, he grew more insistent by the day, plying me with gifts meant to seduce. He promised that I would grow to love him, for he would make himself worthy of me. It was all a con. “It was what he wanted for a wedding present from me.”

  “Mon dieu!” he muttered. “The man is a fiend! Does this mean you two are married?”

  As I read, my thoughts returned briefly, painfully, to Jared. Was it the Caribbean setting of the story? I thought about the trip we took because he was worried about his Dutch Island Investments. Why did that bother me? Surely it was a coincidence that he chose Dutch Island as the name of his firm. It was just a local Jamestown landmark, a piece of Rhode Island history, wasn’t it? I thought about the times we had kayaked there, packing a picnic lunch to share on the rocks as the ocean rolled in.

  But then I got a nagging feeling, deep in my gut. Why did I think Jared Spears and Alain Beaumont had more in common than just the Caribbean?

  Just before he was murdered, Jared had taken me to Curaçao. We spent several days there, relaxing on Blue Bay Beach. He had asked me to sign papers when we went to the bank in Willemstad, said they were just a formality. We weren’t going to have a prenuptial agreement, at least not the usual kind, because Jared knew I was going to remain faithful to him during our marriage. He trusted me with his money. Should I have wondered whether he was trustworthy, too?

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Maybe I was thinking too much about matters I didn’t understand. After all, the man I had promised to marry was now dead. How could he be involved with the people who now chasing me? None of this made any sense to me. And yet, there were still too many questions left unanswered. Was my mind just trying to fill in the blanks by imagining what might have happened, instead of what really did?

  What did I actually know with certainty? What were the facts? I forced myself to look back to a time in my life that was absolutely terrifying. If I put aside my heart and focused on the scene in front of me, what did I see? Jared was dead, murdered by a person or persons unknown. Real bullets cut him down. He bled real blood all over my floor. That’s what I saw when I walked into my home, a dead man on the floor. But it was more than that. The initial shock of finding his corpse sent my senses reeling. And later, as the long hours wore on, my mind just went numb. I experienced a profound sense of guilt that I hadn’t been there for Jared’s last breath. He had died alone. In my distraught state, had I missed something important?

  I pushed myself to recall that image as I stepped over the threshold. Why was I so shocked? The condo was empty. I was alone with a dead body. What did that mean? The killer hadn’t waited around to for me to return. Why wasn’t he lying in wait for me if I was his target?

  All this time, I’d paid attention to how I felt at that moment in time. I saw the events through my tears. Now, as I sat here in this quiet spot, in this tranquil sanctuary, those long-unexplored questions began to slowly rise to the surface of my conscious mind and make their presence known. Why didn’t the killer just wait for me to return? Why did he kill the man I loved, but not me?

  Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, except when the heart is involved. It’s almost impossible to get past the emotions when it’s someone you love lying on the floor dead. Shaking myself out of these ridiculous thoughts, I forced myself to read on.

  “The wedding is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, in the garden,” I informed Inspecteur Noiret. He scowled as he listened.

  “How fortuitous! Chartier must have gotten word that we were looking into his shipments of coffee. He knows a wife cannot be forced to testify against her husband.”

  “Are you going to arrest him?” I asked him. My words went unanswered as the Frenchman unexpectedly pulled me down to the ground. Two men were heading our way, deep in conversation, and as we tucked ourselves into the shadows, I recognized one of the speakers.

  “Where can she be?” Alain grumbled. “She should be in the house.”

  “She’s probably just getting some fresh air,” Louis, his assistant, replied confidently. “It’s just a case of wedding jitters.”

  “It better be. You are certain you thoroughly checked out her background? This is not some plot to penetrate my organization?”

  “I swear, boss. She’s as pure as the driven snow. Not a traffic ticket or even a whiff of scandal.”

  “You’d better be right, mon ami. If I find out that you allowed a mole into the Scorpion’s burrow, I will personally kill you with my bare hands and it will be a long, slow, excruciating death!”

  Those words caused me to shiver. I felt Inspecteur Noiret pull me closer in his strong arms. As my head rested against his shoulder, I felt the thumping of my heart inside my chest and I understood how real my fear of Alain was. Perhaps that was my reason for resistance all these weeks. Had I somehow known that underneath the shining veneer Alain Beaumont showed to the world, there was an evil man? Alain’s assistant spoke again.

  “My information came from three different sources, including a former DGI officer. You know how thorough the Cubans are!”

  “Well, I just don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. She shouldn’t be wondering around so late at night, not in the dark. If, as you say, the cops have been making inquiries, she is likely to become a target. The sooner I can marry her, the sooner I will be able to disappear. Now that the coffee business is showing a profit, it is time to use it wisely. We will begin to substitute the new barrels next week. Let’s start with a hundred and see if they get through United States Customs....” The voices faded as the men returned to the house.

  As he let me go and pulled out his walkie-talkie, I knelt on the ground beside Inspecteur Noiret, feeling sick to my stomach. How could I have been so foolish? How could I not know?

  “Did he invest his drug profits in my family’s business?” I demanded. “Is all of this part of some kind of criminal syndicate?”

  “Shh!” he warned me. “I must inform my colleagues, lest they walk into a trap!”

  I shivered in the darkness as he conversed in hushed tones, feeling my growing anger as I began to put the pieces together. A wife might not be forced to testify against her husband, but I was not yet a wife, and I was certainly willing to tell Interpol everything I knew about the man who called himself Alain Beaumont. Let them arrest the bastard tonight, while he waited for my return.

  “Okay, I will,” said Inspecteur Noiret. “I will do that right now.”

  He took my elbow as we huddled in the shadows, leaning against me as his lips brushed my ear. A tiny thrill filled me at his touch. Was it because I was angry at being used by Alain or because Inspecteur Noiret was so attractive? I hadn�
��t even seen this stranger’s eyes. I didn’t know what color they were, what shape they were, or even what they looked like when he laughed. But something inside me reacted to the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand.

  “I have bad news, mademoiselle. We must send you back in there.”

  “What? You cannot be serious! You heard him say he would kill me!”

  “Yes, I did. Unfortunately, we are not prepared at this moment in time to rescue you. But I promise I will come to you tonight. Leave your window open. Which is your room?”

  “In the front, by the rocking chair on the veranda. But...you cannot think I can just waltz back into the house and pretend nothing is wrong!”

  “Unfortunately, that is exactly what you must do. Pretend you have a headache...or an upset stomach. Tell Chartier anything that makes sense. And if he asks you where you have been and why you left, tell him you are sad that your family is not with you.”

  “But how...how did you know that?”

  “It is simple, mademoiselle. Your family would have never allowed you to marry this beast, any more than they would have allowed you, a single woman, to move to these islands.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” I was taken aback by his statement. How could he possibly know what my family would or wouldn’t do? I was twenty-six, old enough to make my own decisions.

  “Is it? I have been chasing Chartier for the better part of a decade, and in all that time, I have never once seen him romance a woman who has family. It complicates things when it’s time to get rid of her. And he always gets rid of a woman when she is no longer useful. I still have three female bodies in a Paris morgue that are unidentified. He counts on them to be anonymous. Women who have no roots can disappear and no one is the wiser.”

  Women who have no roots can disappear....I was in the WitSec program when I met Jared. Right up until the day we sat down with Shaun, Tovar, Eve, and the department lawyer to discuss my status as a protected witness, I had kept the secret from the man I planned to marry. What was bothering me about that meeting?

  “Finding the book to your liking?” Jeff appeared unexpectedly in the doorway, watching me read. I sat up, startled.

  “Um...yes, I am.”

  “And yet you were frowning.”

  “It...it reminds me of something that happened to me.”

  “Really? Tell me more.” He sat on the end of the bed, eager to hear my story.

  “I don’t think I’m supposed to do that.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll give you the bad news now and get it out of the way, in case whatever it is that’s bothering you is something you need to share with someone. According to Tom, the Department of Justice has decided not to prosecute anyone for the murder of Jared Spears. The man they arrested for the crime was found dead in his jail cell in Leavenworth, and they have no other active leads.”

  “Oh,” I replied, feeling rather numb. “Does that mean I go back into Witness Protection and get relocated?”

  “More bad news, I’m afraid. The Marshals Service has declined to protect you because they feel you compromised the security of their personnel.”

  “They what?”

  “They are refusing to bring you in because they think you leaked information on the program.”

  “But I didn’t, I swear!”

  “Marigold, they found confidential information in Jared’s office, details he could have only gotten from you.”

  “It’s not true!” I cried. “It can’t be!”

  I stared out at the wide expanse of concrete, my tears stinging as they cascaded down my reddening cheeks.

  “Look, I know you’re upset. If it’s any consolation, you’re more than welcome to stay here.”

  “Even though you think I did what they said?” I snapped. I couldn’t disguise the bitterness of my situation. “No, don’t worry. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can figure out what to do.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply....”

  “Forget it.” I hugged Kary to me, wondering what would happen to the dog. He was such a nice companion.

  Jeff walked over to me and sat down on the ottoman. I could feel his eyes boring through me, as if he could summon the truth from my soul. “Tell me what it was about my mother’s book that had you so upset.”

  “What’s the point? Why does it matter now? You all think I’m involved in what happened to....”

  “Tell me!” The sharp edge to his voice caught me unaware and I flinched. When I looked up, Jeff was leaning forward and his hands were clenched.

  “The plot...Alain Beaumont...he...he reminds me of my fiancé,” I stuttered.

  “In what way?”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of Jeff. His face seemed to be contorted by a rage I didn’t understand.

  “In what way?” he said again, this time even more urgently.

  “Jared...took me to Curaçao on business,” I sniffed. “He made me sign papers. He said he wanted to give me something of my own, an investment account.”

  “Did the WitSec people know you went to Curaçao?”

  “Of course! I would never have left the country without their permission. Tovar approved it.”

  “Was that all?” Jeff’s tone was steadier now, but his eyes still studied me carefully.

  “In the book, Inspector Noiret spoke of Chartier choosing women who have no families.”

  “So?”

  “I...I have no one.”

  “At all?”

  “Well, I have my father, but I don’t have him. It’s...complicated.”

  “Hold on.” He got up and crossed to the bathroom. A moment later, he was back with a box of tissues. He handed me one. “Here. Blow your nose and dry your eyes. Explain yourself.”

  “My father is a botanist. He, um...he works for the government.”

  “So? Why didn’t he go into witness protection with you? Didn’t they offer it to him?”

  “He was already in the program, just like I was.”

  Jeff had a puzzled look on his face. Sitting back, he rubbed his thighs, scratched his chin, and then rubbed his brow. “Are you telling me that you were already in the witness protection program before Jared was killed?”

  “Yes.”

  “For a different crime?” he wanted to know. As I nodded, he gave a stunned sigh. “Whoa!”

  “My grandparents were murdered when I was sixteen. They killed my grandmother at the house and then kidnapped my grandfather. My father chased after them.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said softly. I didn’t have to look up to know he was watching me.

  “My father and my grandfather had been working on a special project involving poppies and that made them targets.”

  “Hmm....” Jeff looked off into the distance, lost in thought. I waited, not really knowing what to say. “Tell me something, Marigold. This program, did it have anything to do with genetic modification of plants? Any chance your father is an expert on poppies?”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  “Well, of course he is. He’s been hybridizing them for the last two decades. He and my grandfather....”

  “Marigold, opium comes from poppies. The government has spent decades trying to halt opium production. Researchers developed an opium poppy that can’t produce the drug. Maybe the drug cartel is trying to figure out a way to undo what the government did.”

  “Reversing the hybridization?” I suggested. Jeff nodded in response. “Oh. This isn’t good, is it?”

  “Maybe it’s better than we think. They cut you loose because they thought you were the leak for the WitSec program, but if you didn’t know about your father’s work, is there any chance that your fiancé found out?”

  “I don’t know. After we sat down to discuss my situation with the team, Jared told me that I didn’t need to worry about security. He wanted me to leave the program.”

  “That’s rather suspicious,” Jeff decided, “very suspicious indeed. Tell me something. How long after your trip to Curaçao did you a
nd Jared meet with the team?”

  “It’s hard to remember,” I confessed. “There are a lot of details that are jumbled, because everything suddenly went wrong so quickly. It might have been three or four weeks.”

  “These papers you signed in Curaçao, do you still have copies?”

  “No. Jared said he would put them in a safety deposit box in the bank in Willemstad and send copies to his lawyer.”

  “Do you have a key?”

  “He said I didn’t need one, that he would handle everything, and if anything happened to him, his lawyer would be in touch.”

  “Did the lawyer contact you?”

  “I was moved immediately, so I never found out.”

  It was true. Right after the police were called, I summoned the courage to call Tovar, who rushed to the scene just as the cops were beginning to unwind a big roll of yellow tape to block off the entrance to the building. The police never asked me a single question. Tovar made sure of that. He and the rest of the new team pulled me into the federal building and kept me out of sight for hours. Later that night, I was moved to a hotel just outside Boston until the new boss could figure out what to do with me.

  “Do you have the contact information for the lawyer?” His eyes narrowed as I shrugged.

  “I...I believed what he told me. It never occurred to me to ask him for the name of his lawyer. Why would I think someone would murder him?”

  “Maybe it’s time to find out who represents his estate,” Jeff replied.

  “You think you can?”

  “No,” he smiled, patting my hand. “But I do have people for that. I’ll have Rocky get the ball rolling. Now, why don’t we have some dinner?”

  Jeff stood up and started for the door. I knew I should follow, but I hesitated.

  “Marigold?” He turned at the doorway, surprised I wasn’t behind him. “What’s the matter?”

  “Does this mean you believe me, that I didn’t do what the Marshals Service claims?”

  He took a few steps back towards me. Those brown eyes, so intent, latched on to mine and refused to let go.