Pieces of the Past (Witness Security Book 1)

by Jamie Hill

  Christine knew her tone was sharp, she just couldn’t control it yet. “Where did you get this cap?” she repeated, shaking it at him.

  “From a guy at the pool. It’s no big deal.”

  “Oh shit!” Peyton stepped from her room and stared at the hat, studying it intently like she’d never seen such a thing before.

  “It’s no big deal,” Ethan repeated, with less enthusiasm.

  Her daughter’s expression validated Christine’s concern that it was, indeed, a big deal. “Watch your language,” she told the girl and turned back to Ethan. “What guy?”

  “What guy at the pool?” Peyton asked at the same time.

  The doorbell rang. Mother and daughter looked at each other.

  “I shouldn’t go, should I?” Peyton’s voice was nearly a whisper.

  Christine took a couple deep breaths and tried once again to calm herself. She offered her daughter a weak smile. “Of course you can still go. Let him in.” She glanced at the hat. “We’ll take care of this later.” She hurried down the stairs and pressed the cap into Ethan’s hands. “Take this in the kitchen and wait for the pizza timer to go off. Use the oven mitts to get it out.”

  “Okay.” He seemed relieved to be dismissed, and darted into the other room.

  She turned to Peyton, on her heels. “Not a word about this to anyone. We’ll handle it.”

  The girl rolled her eyes. “Like anyone is going to understand why you’re freaking out about a Cubbies cap.”

  “Peyton Isabella,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Take a chill pill, Mom.” Peyton opened the front door and smiled at the tall, blond-headed boy standing there. “Hey. Sorry it took me so long. There’s always one crisis or another around here.”

  “No problem. Sounds like life with my sisters.” He stepped inside. The kids smiled at each other like only teenagers can.

  Christine gave the good-looking boy the once-over, but her heart wasn’t in quizzing him. All she could dwell on was wondering who would give her son a ball cap at a public pool. “Hello Ryan,” she murmured.

  “Hey, Mrs. Scott.” He looked decidedly uncomfortable, but no more than her daughter did.

  Christine let both of them off the hook. “Sorry I can’t stay and chat, I need to get dinner out of the oven. Have fun you two. See you after the movie.”

  “Oh, yes Ma’am.” He appeared surprised that the inquisition hadn’t happened, but he didn’t waste any time standing around in case she changed her mind. He headed out the door and held it open for Peyton.

  Her daughter paused for a moment and looked at her. “You okay, Mom?”

  “I’m fine. Have a good time.” She turned and walked slowly into the kitchen, adding a last minute, “Behave yourselves!” She heard the click of the front door behind her.

  Ethan was carefully removing the pizza from the oven.

  She waited until he’d set it safely on the hot pads before speaking. “Looks good,” she commented, and turned off the oven.

  “Yeah.” He squirmed, his gaze going to the ball cap on the counter.

  Christine took a seat at the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for Ethan.

  He sat and watched her face intently.

  She sighed. Ryan’s appearance had been enough of a distraction that she’d calmed considerably. But fear still bubbled inside her, and she tried to tamp it down. “Ethan, it’s very important that you answer my question. Who gave you the Cubs cap?”

  He slumped in his chair. “Just a guy at the pool, Mom. He was there with his son. They were in the chairs next to ours. I noticed the hat sitting on top of his towel and shirt, and said I liked it. He asked if I was a Cubs fan, and I didn’t know what to say, so I said, ‘sort of’.”

  Christine felt awful for him. Why should he know what to say? The question would have tripped her up, and she was thirty-five. Even with all the training the marshals gave them, they couldn’t cover every subject, or come up with an answer to every possible question. Sure, I used to be a Cubs fan, before we were forced to move away and change our identities. “What did the man say?”

  “He just kind of laughed. He said he and his son were done swimming and that I could keep the cap. I told him I couldn’t, but he left it on the chair next to me. I shouldn’t have taken it, I know that, but I couldn’t resist. He just left it there.”

  “You didn’t see him after that?”

  “No.” Ethan shook his head.

  Thoughts rolling through her mind, Christine rose to get plates and silverware. She poured two glasses of milk and cut the pizza. After one slice, she was beginning to relax a little. Not such a big deal, she decided. Just a man being nice. He didn’t have a prolonged conversation with Ethan, didn’t try anything funny. He simply gave him a ball cap. Ethan had probably been drooling over it. The man was just being nice. She smiled. Her son could turn the charm on when he wanted to.

  He’d calmed as they ate, too. He was on his third slice of pizza when he made the observation, “Funny how I keep finding Cubs stuff. Like the second day of school, when I found those folders. Now this cap. Funny.”

  Christine froze. She’d forgotten about the folders. Two new, glossy pocket folders found lying next to his books on the playground at school, both bearing Cubs logos. Ethan said he’d asked around and nobody claimed them.

  Her stomach lurched. Coincidence? I think not.

  She didn’t want to worry him, so she waited until they’d cleared the dishes and he was watching TV before she punched Jordan Burke’s number up on her cell phone.

  “This is Jordan,” the Witsec marshal answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, it’s Christine Scott. We may have a problem. I mean, I don’t know if we have a problem or not.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Ethan went swimming at the city pool this afternoon with a friend, and the boy’s parents. While he was there, a man gave him a Cubs cap.”

  “A what?”

  Christine fought her impatience. “A Chicago Cubs baseball cap. It was Ethan’s favorite team.”

  “His friends gave it to him?”

  “No, some stranger. A man swimming at the pool with his son. Ethan admired the cap, and the guy gave it to him.”

  “Odd, but hardly a federal offense.”

  “I was trying to tell myself that, and then I remembered something that happened just after school started. Ethan found two Cubs folders on the playground at school, lying next to his stuff.”

  “Folders? Like school folders?”

  Christine closed her eyes, and tried to remember it was Jordan’s first time hearing any of this. The woman needed to process the information. “Yes, school folders. Brand new ones. Lying on the playground.”

  “He kept them?”

  “He asked around to see if they belonged to anyone, but no one spoke up.”

  “So now he’s flashing Chicago Cubs gear all over the playground? I’m not sure that was the thing to do. He should have just ignored them. The hat, too.”

  “He’s ten,” Christine reminded. “What he should do often conflicts with what he does do.”

  A loud sigh on the other end of the phone. “You’re right. Are you guys home now? I should stop by and talk to him.”

  “We’re home. Just go easy, okay? I already overreacted and probably scared him half to death.”

  “It’s not overreacting if there’s been a security breach, Christine. This is life and death stuff, remember?”

  “How could I ever forget? See you soon.” She punched her phone off, sucked up her courage, and headed into the family room.

  She didn’t mention Jordan coming over until the doorbell rang.

  Ethan glanced at her with surprise, knowing they rarely had unexpected visitors.

  “Oh, yeah. Jordan’s stopping by.” She rose and went to open the front door. “Hey.”

  “Hola.” The woman brushed past her, smelling of jasmine and looking better than a person should be allowed in jeans and a fi
tted, two-button T-shirt.

  Christine smirked and locked the door behind her. “Do you actually know Spanish, or is this like the Portuguese phase you went through a while back when you said ‘Oi’ all the time?”

  Jordan grinned showing perfect, snow-white teeth. “I find it’s useful to know a few words in lots of languages.” She kept walking into the family room and looked at Ethan. “Isn’t that right, sabelotodo?”

  He stared at her, slack-jawed.

  Christine followed the marshal and tried not to smile at her son’s awe-filled expression. Is he admiring the fit of that T-shirt, or simply wondering what the heck Jordan said? Choosing to believe the latter of her innocent ten-year-old, she tried to let him off the hook. “We have no idea what that means. You want something to drink?”

  “It means ‘smarty pants’, and no thank you. So what’s up E? Who was this dude giving you the ball cap today? What did he look like?” She chose the chair closest the boy and leaned in toward him.

  He sighed and muted the TV. “I’ve never seen him before. Not too tall, skinny, kind of bald on top but brown hair sticking out over his ears.”

  Jordan nodded. “Good description. Have you ever seen him around before?”

  Ethan thought about that and shook his head. “I don’t remember him.”

  “What did his son look like?”

  “Who?”

  “You told your mom he was at the pool with his son. What did he look like? How old was he? Did he seem about your age, older, younger?”

  Ethan shrugged. “I never saw his son. Just the man.”

  Jordan spoke slowly. “Even when he said they were leaving, you never saw the boy?”

  “Nope.”

  She turned to Christine. “I didn’t want to do this, but I think you better call the folks who took E to the pool today. Give them the description he just gave. Best case scenario, he’s the father of one of their classmates. Maybe they saw him and know who he is.”

  Christine frowned. “What’s the worst case scenario?”

  Jordan glanced at Ethan then back at Christine. “We’re not ready to go there yet. Call the people.”

  “And what, exactly, am I supposed to tell them?”

  “Look, some man approached your kid at the pool today. That’s generally frowned upon in most parental circles. Ask if they saw him, knew him. The other no-no was giving your son a gift. Major League Baseball stuff is expensive. Strangers don’t hand it out to kids for no reason. Ask them. They won’t question why you’re calling. They’ll apologize all over themselves for not keeping a closer eye on E.”

  With a slight nod, Christine grabbed her phone and punched up the Ulinky’s number. It took less than two minutes to determine they hadn’t seen the guy, and knew nothing about Ethan coming home with a ball cap. As Jordan had predicted, they were very apologetic that the whole exchange had taken place and they were totally unaware. She thanked Donna and disconnected the call. “You were right. They didn’t know anything about it. Didn’t see anyone, don’t remember a man fitting that description, and definitely didn’t recognize anyone there today as the father of a classmate.”

  “Maldito sea!” Jordan stood and paced the length of the sofa.

  “Now you’re just being annoying.” Christine smiled nervously.

  Jordan tossed her thick dark hair over her shoulder and whispered, “It means ‘damn it’. You might want to remember that one. Handy to cuss in front of the kids and they don’t know what you’re saying.”

  Ethan folded his arms across his chest. “Can you say ‘Google’? I do know how to spell, you know.”

  “Stay off the internet, sabelotodo,” Jordan snapped back at him. “Bad things happen there.” She continued to pace.

  Christine could almost see the wheels turning in the marshal’s head. “Is this bad?” she finally asked.

  “Well, it ain’t great. But I’m not sure how bad it actually is. I think I’ll place an undercover team out on the street to keep an eye on things for the next twenty-four hours or so. Do you have plans for the rest of the weekend? It’d be easier if you stayed in.”

  Christine bit her lip. “We usually go to church on Sunday morning.”

  “I’m going swimming again tomorrow,” Ethan piped up.

  “No and no.” Jordan said to both of them. “No more swimming right now, and let’s break up the routine a bit. You can say your prayers at home for one Sunday, can’t you?”

  “Sure.” Christine felt a bit guilty about the whole church business anyway. After what Larry had done, surely they were on the outs with God these days. She tried to keep life normal for the kids, but hadn’t quite reconciled this issue in her mind yet.

  “I thought you said I could go swimming tomorrow.” Ethan’s tone grew whiny. “There’s just a couple weeks left—”

  Jordan cut him off. “Trust me on this one, kiddo. You’ll be able to swim soon, just not tomorrow, okay?” She flashed him her patented smile.

  How could he resist? Christine watched him until grudgingly, he nodded.

  The marshal clapped her hands, like a coach rallying the team. “Okay, we have a plan. You all stick close to the house for the rest of the weekend. If everything seems quiet, it’ll be back to work and school as usual on Monday.” She pointed a finger at Ethan. “Stay cool, little dude.”

  She walked toward the front door and turned to Christine. “Is Peyton in her room? I’ll just run up and say hi.”

  Christine shook her head. “She’s on a date. Pizza and a movie with a football player.”

  Jordan waggled her eyebrows, but her expression was wary. “Football player, eh? Do me a favor, check with her when she gets home, and make sure everything was quiet tonight. No balding man with brown hair sticking out on the sides.”

  Christine took a step closer to Jordan and lowered her voice. “Do you think we have a problem, here? I don’t like the look in your eyes.”

  The woman shrugged. “Probably not. Just being cautious with kids in the house.”

  “I agree. Which is why, if we have a problem, perhaps we should do something about it?”

  Jordan’s eyes darkened. “What do you suggest we do? Uproot your family again, change identities, and move to a new town? Because that’s what ‘doing something’ involves, you know. Or, we can keep an eye on the situation and see if maybe we’re overreacting.”

  “Weren’t you the one who said it’s not overreacting if there’s been a security breach? Nothing is more important to me than my children, Jordan. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Hell, I already have.”

  “I understand that. If a move is required, I’ll be the first one to suggest it. But the Justice Department frowns on witness hopping, so we’re going to monitor the situation before deciding anything, okay?”

  “Okay.” Christine knew Jordan had their best interests at heart. She trusted the woman, which was saying a lot after what Larry had done to her.

  “So call me if Peyton notices anything suspicious. I’ll be in and out tomorrow but I’ll be available by cell.”

  “Will do. Thank you.”

  Jordan touched her chin. “Cheer up, Mamasita. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Christine chuckled. “You’re an odd combination of brilliant and nuts, you know that?”

  The marshal grinned. “Aren’t you glad I’m on your side?” She let herself out and motioned for Christine to lock the door behind her.

  Smiling, Christine obliged. She watched TV with Ethan until he went to bed, then read until Peyton returned. Her daughter practically floated into the house, and actually spent ten minutes with her discussing the evening. Christine was pleased to hear she’d had a wonderful time, and there’d been nothing unusual that she’d recalled.

  The next morning as Christine flipped pancakes instead of taking the kids to church, Peyton joined them in the kitchen. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?” she asked her daughter.

  The girl’s brown eyes clouded over. “Pretty good
. Something was nagging at me, though, and I finally remembered it during the night. I did see a bald guy with brown hair on the sides at the pizza parlor. For a minute it seemed like he was looking at me, but then he wasn’t, he was just eating. I noticed him again and he was reading a paper and eating pizza. I forgot about him after that.”

  Ethan piped up, “Bald on top with brown hair sticking out over his ears?”

  Peyton took a pancake from the platter, tore it in half and nibbled. “That’s what I said, doofus.”

  He ignored the insult. “Was he kind of tall?”

  She rolled her eyes. “He was sitting in a booth. You think I could tell how tall he was?”

  Christine shoved a plate in her daughter’s hands. “You don’t have to be nasty. We’re all concerned about this guy. I need to call Jordan and let her know.”

  Peyton’s eyes lit up. “See if she can come over.”

  After removing the last of the pancakes from the griddle, Christine grabbed her cell and punched in the number. “She said she was busy today, so I don’t know.”

  “Ask,” her daughter urged.

  She nodded as the call connected.

  “This is Jordan.” She sounded winded, out of breath.

  “Hey, it’s Christine. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Well actually, yeah. I was hiking with some friends this morning and I fell, twisted my ankle. Hurts like hellfire.”

  Christine heard someone yell, “It’s broken!” in the background.

  “It is not,” Jordan snapped back. “Just sprained or something. But we’re going to the ER now.”

  “Oh! This can wait. I should let you go.”

  “We’re on the way as we speak. And no, it can’t wait, Christine. I was going to call you this morning anyway. The undercover team spotted a car on your street. The driver fits the description of the man Ethan saw.”

  “Peyton saw him at the pizza parlor last night, too,” Christine’s voice was nearly a whisper.

  “Damn, damn, damn!” Jordan muttered, then moaned. “Ouch, that hurts! Slow down up there, these curves are killing me!”

  “We need to get you there!” the voice yelled back.

  Christine’s gut churned for her family’s situation, and also for Jordan. We’ll just have to hang on until she’s taken care of, then she can get back to us. “Jordan,” she tried to get the marshal’s attention. “This can wait.”