by Jamie Hill
Before he made his calls, Doug flipped on the TV and turned up the volume, just in case someone had managed to plant a bug. He spoke to the officers keeping the house under surveillance, and was glad to hear all was calm on their end. Another phone call kept his boss apprised of the situation, and they worked out details for moving the family. With a final call he enlisted some help from a fellow marshal in getting the safe house ready for their arrival. “We’ll be there later tonight,” Doug told his co-worker Ben Markham.
“I’ll have the place ready to go, with enough supplies to last a couple days. If you need to stay longer, make a list for me of what the family likes to eat.”
“Aren’t you the happy homemaker?” Doug teased.
“Might as well get what they want,” Ben protested jovially. “Since you’re sending me to the store anyway.”
“Yeah, well just remember, I like Moon Pies. Ding Dongs, Ho Ho’s, whatever they got.”
“Bet you’re crying in your beer that Twinkies are so hard to find now.”
“Chocolate’s the key word, my friend. Had Twinkies been made with chocolate, I’d have never let the company go bankrupt. Oh, and Mountain Dew. None of that pesky diet stuff.”
Ben chuckled. “You got it. Talk to you later, cowboy.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Doug punched the off button and pocketed his phone. His coworkers liked to tease him because he lived in a secluded, rural area on the outskirts of Topeka, but he was far from a cowboy. He had enough land to keep horses, just not the time to care for them properly. He settled for an easy-going Golden Retriever named Daisy, who loved to swim when he found time to take her to one of the area lakes. She spent her days keeping his mother company and it looked like she’d be staying there the next few nights, as well. He’d call his mom later and let her know.
Christine set two bags in the doorway. She nodded toward the blaring TV. “Can you hear it?”
He glanced at the set as he strolled past. A bubbly blonde celebrity he couldn’t begin to name was going on and on about something that seemed vitally important, to her, anyway. He paused one step in front of Christine. “Gotta find out who’s doing what to whom.”
She smiled weakly. “You don’t even know who that is, do you?”
Shrugging, Doug grinned. “You got me. I’m afraid I haven’t kept up with the Kardashians, or whatever their name is.”
Her next smile seemed more genuine. “Good attempt. Let me guess, you only know them because Kris married Bruce Jenner, right? See, when you have teenagers, they go, ‘Bruce who?’ Really makes you feel old.”
Doug gave her a quick once-over. “You definitely don’t have to worry about that.” He knew the words were inappropriate the moment they left his lips. If he could have reached out and pulled them back, he would have, in a heartbeat. As it was, he stood there like a dummy while a slight red flush warmed his face.
Christine smiled. “That was sweet, in an awkward kind of way. I mean, this really isn’t the time—”
He raised both hands and stepped backwards. “No, sorry, that was just the doofus in me coming out.”
She closed the gap between them. “Jordan said you were goofy. Actually, she said you have a goofy smile. Personally, I think it’s kind of a nice smile.”
Crap. The last thing he needed was her being nice to him. “Okay, now I know you bumped your head earlier. Can we forget this conversation and get back to the matter at hand please?”
“I will not forget it, because your saying I don’t look old is the nicest thing anyone has said to me this week—if not this month. I will set it aside for now so I can go help Ethan pack. Then I need to think about dinner.” She turned and headed up the stairs, tossing a teasing glance back over her shoulder. “I don’t suppose we could have a pizza delivered?”
Doug rolled his eyes in response.
“Pretty much what I thought. Grilled cheese sandwiches it is. Hope you like them.”
“I’ll eat anything.”
When she chuckled, he realized how bad that sounded. Coughing, he muttered, “Grilled cheese is fine.”
Christine paused on the second step. “You okay?”
“Of course I am.” He waved her off.
She nodded and continued up.
It took him another moment to realize he was staring at the sway of her hips as she ascended.
Doug shook his head to clear it and stomped into the kitchen. He knew his way around a grilled cheese sandwich. He could get them started. It’d give him something productive to think about besides Christine’s shapely backside in a pair of jeans.
* * * *
Christine helped Ethan pack while attempting to fend off a dozen questions.
“But where are we going, Mom? Should I bring my swimming suit? Will I still be able to go to Trent Brockston’s birthday party next weekend?”
His questions went in one ear and out the other, mainly because she didn’t have the answers he needed. The child’s name triggered something in her, though. “Trent Brockston? Isn’t he the kid who threw up at lunch?”
“His party’s not ‘til Sunday. He’ll be better by then. But we have to get him a present. He likes Megatroids and Battlebots. Can we go to the store after school tomorrow?”
“I don’t know, sweetie.” Christine removed the baseball glove and cap he’d stuck in one suitcase. “Just the important stuff for now, please.”
Ethan gazed at her with a look of disbelief. “This is important, Mom. It’s my best glove.”
Sighing, she shoved the suitcase aside and sat on the bed. “E, listen to me. I know this is scary. But we have to go fast, and we need to travel light. Of course the glove is important to you, but it’s not baseball season so you won’t need it for a while.”
He slipped on the glove and punched his bare hand into it. “It is in the majors.”
“And you won’t be going to the ballpark for a while, either.” The words came out sharper than intended.
His gaze seared into hers. “If we have to go fast, then why aren’t we going now?”
“Doug says it’s better to travel when it’s dark.”
Ethan thought about that. “Is he going with us?”
“Sure he is.” She tried to sound positive but the question tripped her up. He was taking them, of course, but was he staying with them? I have no idea.
The remainder of the time packing she was torn between ‘I hope he is’ and ‘Surely not!’ It occurred to her that either possibility terrified her, both for different reasons.
Tucking Ethan’s school books into one bag, she glanced around the room one last time. She resisted the urge to wonder if she’d ever see the house again. Thinking like that was too painful.
Christine gathered his two suitcases and motioned for him to follow her downstairs. She set his things down next to hers and followed the wafting scent of melted cheese into the kitchen.
Doug stood at the stove, flipping sandwiches on the griddle.
She looked over his shoulder at his handiwork. The four sandwiches were toasted to golden perfection, a feat Larry had never mastered, she thought wryly. “What are you doing?”
He gazed at her sideways. “Is that one of those rhetorical questions?”
“I mean, why are you doing it? I was going to cook.”
“I hope you’re not going to tell me that you fix yours fancy, or one of the kids won’t eat regular cheese or something like that. Because these are just plain, ordinary—”
She placed a hand on his forearm. “They look wonderful. Thank you. I’ll throw together a salad and we’ll be set.”
“Or chips,” he mumbled under his breath.
She smiled. “Spoken like someone who’s not a parent. Parents are required to serve fruits and vegetables, that sort of thing.”
Doug flipped the sandwiches onto a waiting plate and took the griddle off the heat. “Is that so? I guess I haven’t read the handbook. My Daisy likes chips. Cheetos are her favorite.”
Reaching for m
ore plates in the cabinet, Christine froze when he mentioned his daughter. Before she could comment, Peyton and Ethan entered the kitchen.
“It smells good!” her son said.
“And it’s going to taste great. Have a seat. Bring your appetites.” Doug motioned them to the table.
Ethan grinned as he sat, but Peyton exchanged glances with her mother. Christine could only shrug and nod toward the table. She suddenly realized she knew very little about the marshal who was now in charge of her family’s safety. The fact that he had a daughter was a total shock. She caught herself stealing a glance at his left hand, but there was no ring to be found.
Of course he doesn’t have to be married. Marriage had never been a requirement for having children. As she tossed some vegetables in a bowl with lettuce she wondered if perhaps he was divorced. Then she wondered why in the world was she even thinking about it?
She placed the salad on the table and set two bottles of dressing next to it. “Hope you like French or Italian.”
Doug waggled his brows and smiled at her as he passed napkins around. “French is nice.”
“Eww, gross.” Peyton snatched a napkin from him and made a face.
“What?” He blinked innocently and sat on the one empty chair.
“Peyton!” Christine felt her cheeks redden and didn’t know what else to say. “Everyone just eat, please.”
“What’s gross?” Ethan reached for the orange salad dressing. “I like French too.” He poured some on his salad and handed it to Doug.
“Us men will stick together, then.” Doug nodded and flashed the boy a quick wink.
Ethan dived into his cheese sandwich, grinning like it was the best meal on the planet.
It was all Christine could do to bite, chew and swallow.
Someone from the past had found them. Her family was in danger. The one ally she had in Kansas was laid up with a broken ankle, leaving her and the kids in the hands of a guy she barely knew.
Her stomach was a mass of knots.
“So,” Peyton asked between bites. “What’s the big excuse we’re going to use to miss school and work this week?” She licked cheese from her fingertips. She was obviously enjoying the sandwich but Christine knew her daughter would never admit it to Doug.
“I was thinking about that,” he said. “It has to be fairly significant for you to pull up stakes and go.” He glanced at Christine. “I think we should say your mother died. You and the kids need to go stay with your father until—”
“Grandma died?” Ethan jumped up, his face distorted in horror. The table shook as he bumped it, plates rattling.
Christine caught his glass of milk as it bobbled and she righted it. She stood and grasped his arms. “Sweetie, no. Grandma is fine. This is a story we’re making up to tell the school and my job.”
His small body trembled as she pulled him close.
“It’s okay,” she reassured. “Grandma is fine.”
“How do you know that?” He pulled back enough to look up into her eyes. His cheeks were tear-streaked. “Have you talked to her?”
Christine’s heart ached. “Well, no…”
“Then you’re not sure!” he insisted.
Doug stood. “I’m sure. Witsec has protocol for that kind of stuff. If anything serious happened someone would get a message to Jordan or me.” He glanced at Christine then down at Ethan. “Look, I’m sorry I upset you. This is just more make-believe, all part of the mystique of Witness Security. I believe we talked about this when you folks entered the program.”
“More lies.” Peyton’s voice held a note of disgust. “Isn’t it ironic, little brother? They tell us we’re not supposed to lie, then they build up this big ol’ web of secrets and call it our life story. And they wonder why we can’t remember half of it? Because it’s all lies.” She smiled grimly.
“Peyton!” Christine felt mortified again. Her daughter was obviously bristling at the situation and taking it out on Doug.
He focused a cool gaze on the girl. “When you get older, you’ll understand the difference between lying and the situational necessity to protect people.”
She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. She closed it again, glaring.
He turned back to Christine. “How would you normally contact work and school? Phone call? Email?”
She thought about it. “I can text their teachers but I’ll need to phone the school office in the morning. I should probably call my boss then, too.”
He nodded. “Anyone you need to text, do it now. You won’t be using your phones where we’re at. You can use mine in the morning to make those calls.” He placed Peyton’s phone on the table and looked out the window. “Same with you. Calls or texts need to be done now. We’ll be going in half an hour.” He caught the girl’s eye. “Please stick to the story. Your grandmother passed away. You’re going back to the funeral, and not sure how long you’ll stay. Might not have cell phone service the whole time, so if he doesn’t hear from you, not to worry.”
She snatched her phone and rolled her eyes. “Where could we possibly go that doesn’t have cell service in this day and age?” She tossed back the last of her milk and looked at her mom. “May I be excused?”
“Sure.” Christine glanced at the remains of their dinner. They’d polished off the sandwiches but the salad had gone begging. After Ethan became upset, everyone seemed to lose their appetites. “If you’ve had enough.”
“Quite enough, thank you.” Peyton flounced out of the room dramatically.
“Stick to the story!” Doug called after her.
No response.
Christine removed her daughter’s plate. “I’m sure she will,” she added nervously.
“Wish I could be as sure.” He turned to Ethan. “How about you? Are you doing okay?”
“I guess.” He shrugged. “Since I don’t have anybody to call, can I finish my salad?”
“Of course!” Christine rearranged things in front of him. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Go ahead and eat.”
Doug sat as well and dived back into his salad. “Does she always call you ‘sweetie’?” he asked Ethan conspiratorially.
Ethan nodded as he ate. “It’s a mom thing. You just get used to it.”
Christine cleared away her own dishes and stopped to chuckle. “So there,” she told Doug and made a face.
He grinned and continued to eat.
Standing at the sink with her back to him, Christine forced herself to breathe normally. When Doug smiled like that, it set off something inside her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Too long. But damn it, she couldn’t allow herself to feel it now. They had serious issues to face, and she needed to remain focused. Their very lives depended on it.
* * * *
Doug helped Christine wash and dry the dishes after dinner. She sent the text messages they’d discussed. He heard Peyton on the phone in the other room but couldn’t hear what she was saying—she was the one that concerned him. Younger kids were easier to handle in Witsec. Peyton definitely reinforced his opinion that teenagers were a nightmare.
He felt a twinge of guilt for flashing his gun at her, but it had done the trick. She’d cooperated since he reminded her that this was serious business, with no time for school-girl antics. Yet he still felt bad. They were a nice family, one who didn’t deserve to be here. He’d read the file. Larry had done a number on them. Doug didn’t buy the man’s ‘misguided thinking’ story, as if he didn’t really understand what he was doing. Larry understood. The easy money was just too hard to resist.
Christine moved next to him. “I think I’m done. I’ll still need to make a couple calls in the morning.”
He nodded. “I’ll need your phone.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Really? You can trust me, you know. I won’t use it—”
“Unless you need to, and then you will. Nope, sorry, I need the phone.”
She handed it over without another comment. Doug stuck it in his pocket. He wouldn’t te
ll her or Peyton, but he was leaving their phones in the house. Unsure about how sophisticated their stalker was, he wasn’t taking any chances. Tracking cell phones was easy for someone with access to the right equipment.
Peyton joined them, her phone in hand. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me keep this.”
“Sorry.” Doug added it to the one in his pocket.
“What about my laptop? Can I bring that?”
“We’ll have a computer where we’re going. It’s set up on a secure network. You’ll have some access to that.”
“Some access. Great.” She turned and walked out.
“Gee. This is going to be fun.” Doug moved to the front window and peered out.
“She’s not normally this way, you know,” Christine defended her daughter. “With everything that’s happened…”
“I understand. Her behavior just doesn’t make this any easier.”
“Easy?” her voice bristled. “You think any of this has been easy? It may be just a job to you, but this is our life.”
He faced her. “In my line of work, it’s never ‘just a job’. I get that. You need to get that I’m doing the best I can under less than perfect circumstances. Believe me, you and the kids are my top priority.”
She gazed at him. “I do.”
Doug blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I do believe you. And I thank you. I haven’t said that yet. But I appreciate what you’re doing for us.”
He forced his breathing to remain even. The way she looked at him a moment ago, when she said ‘I do’, a world of other thoughts raced through his mind. Ideas that scared the hell out of him worse than the situation they were in. “You’re welcome.” He started to add I’m just doing my job but he wasn’t sure that was true anymore. Things were fast becoming personal, for better or worse. The unfortunate choice of words made him groan again.
Glancing out the window again, he focused on the black SUV which stopped in front of the house. Doug turned back to Christine. “Are you ready? Because things are fixing to get interesting.”