by Jamie Hill
To say he’d been pissed had been an understatement. But Carlos had become enraged, and hadn’t calmed much in the ensuing year.
If he knew Carlos, and he thought he did considering their fifteen-year business relationship, then Larry’s time was running out. Or should he say Larry’s family’s time was running out.
* * * *
Topeka, Kansas
Doug glanced back over his shoulder. Ethan was asleep in the back seat, headphones still in his ears. “He’s wiped.”
Christine followed his gaze. “I’m not surprised. It’s nearly midnight.”
“You’ve got to be tired, too.”
“I’m okay. Are you tired? I could drive.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. They were both wiped. It was a ten hour drive to Chicago. It’d be smartest not to drive straight through, but he knew they couldn’t stop. The kids had hours on them. He had no idea what would happen when they reached the grandparents’ house, but he suspected Christine’s parents might try to hide Peyton and her friend. That’s the last thing we need.
“I wish you would have let me try to call them again. If I told Peyton we were following them, maybe they’d have reconsidered making the long trip.”
“Or maybe they’d change plans and go somewhere else—say to a relative of Ryan’s who we know nothing about, somewhere in Sheboygan.”
“What makes you think he has family in Sheboygan?” she asked wryly.
He glanced sideways at her. “What makes you think Peyton’s going to turn around and come back because you ask nicely?”
She stared out the window. “I was in Sheboygan once. It’s only about three hours from Chicago. You take I-95 north to Milwaukee. I can’t remember which highway you take after that.”
“I was in Milwaukee once, for a firearms training seminar. Don’t remember much about the training. Just remember that Milwaukee has a lot of breweries.”
She chuckled. “That’s the most memorable thing about Milwaukee, I guess. It’s actually a pretty nice town.”
“I’m sure it is. We were on the feds dime, so we didn’t get to do much sight-seeing. Didn’t even get to visit a brewery. Had a beer at the airport, though.”
“That’s reassuring. A bunch of federal marshals with guns spotted drinking beer before boarding a plane. The press could have had a heyday with that.”
“You make it sound much more exciting than it actually was. Has anyone ever told you that you have an active imagination?”
“Besides you? My mother, maybe.” She stared out the window again. “I wish you’d let me call her, too.”
Doug chuckled. “Why? So Peyton’s Facebook friend has time to hatch a plot before we get there? I don’t think so.”
“She’s my mother! She’s not going to do anything to go against us.”
“She already has. She might not realize it, but you know it’s true.”
“I’m sure Mom was only doing what she thought was best. They love their grandchildren. I know they miss them horribly.”
“Then they should want to keep them alive. Your folks need to remember that we’re all on the same side, here.”
“I guess we’ll have to remind them.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Doug stopped a few times for coffee and to stretch his legs. Ethan slept the whole night long, and Christine dozed off and on. Doug was glad. She was so worried, it was easier when she slept and at least had a few brief moments of peace.
He received regular updates from his boss, and when Christine woke early the next morning he prepared to fill her in.
“Where are we?” She glanced around, yawning.
“Passed through DeKalb a while back.”
“Oh! Good. Almost there.”
“DeKalb is an hour and a half from Chicago?”
“Hour, maybe, depending on traffic.” She studied him. “You look exhausted.”
“Thank you.” He smiled. “I’d say the same but you look pretty damn good. Especially cute when you’re sleeping, I might add.”
“Shush.” She waved him off.
He grinned, and for both their benefits, changed the subject. “I got a report from my boss this morning. It seems they got a partial plate from that white sedan that was staking out your house. It was captured by a turnpike camera on I-70 heading in this general direction.”
“Nothing since I-70? We left that highway hours ago.”
“Nothing we’re aware of. We need to stay on alert. He also found out some news about the upcoming trial of Martin Newsome.”
She shook her head. “It’s been over a year. I can’t believe that trial hasn’t taken place yet.”
“When someone has a lot of money and high-priced attorneys, the legal delays can last for years. The longer it drags out, the more time the defendant spends in prison beforehand. If Newsome isn’t convicted on all counts, there’s a very real possibility he could be released after the trial for time served.”
“They have a ton of evidence on him! How could he not be convicted on all counts?”
Doug shrugged. “Just letting you know how it is. If for some reason Larry wasn’t able to testify, their case might not have a lot of merit.”
“That’s why they’re holding Larry in prison, to make sure he testifies, right? And then there are the charges against him.”
“The charges are iffy, depending upon the testimony. Nobody was offered complete immunity. Obviously they’re expecting a lot of conflicting arguments. It’s all going to depend on who the judge and jury decide to believe.”
“So it’s possible that Larry could be released at some point after the trial, too.”
“Not only possible, it’s probable. I can’t say when, of course. He could serve a couple years, or seven, or twenty. But at some point, he’s bound to be released.”
Christine didn’t reply, she just stared out the window at the passing cars.
“So, what do you think about that?” he finally prompted.
“I don’t know. What’s going to happen to us? If Larry gets released, will we still need Witsec? Do we go back to our old lives, or stay in the new ones?”
Doug knew which answer he’d choose, but it wasn’t up to him. “That’s something I don’t know. There could come a point when you’ll have to choose.”
She glanced back at her sleeping son.
“What do you think his choice would be?” Doug asked.
“He’s been pretty happy this year. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to stay where we are, provided we could see Grandma and Grandpa, of course.”
“And Peyton?”
Christine rubbed her hands over her arms. “I think Peyton’s choice is pretty clear. She won’t let the screen door hit her on the butt as she’s leaving Kansas.”
He grinned. “And what about you, Christine Stewart Scott? What do you think your choice would be?”
They drove over a rise and the city limits came into view. “There it is! Chicago!” She turned around and shook her son’s leg. “E, wake up. We’re home!”
He rubbed his eyes and when he realized what he was seeing, they popped opened fully. “Home!” His voice was thick, almost choked up.
Doug’s heart sank. Of course Chicago would be home to them. They’d all been born and raised there. They’d only been in Kansas nine months.
He’d known them that whole time, but had only really been aware of them for less than a week. It felt like a lifetime. It felt like five minutes. He wasn’t ready for it to end.
Part of him wanted to turn the car around and drive straight back to the little safe house in Topeka, where he could protect them. He knew it was a ridiculous thought. Almost as ridiculous as the idea that he could love Christine Stewart Scott after less than a week. But he knew what he felt. And he felt really crappy as they headed into Chicago, her home sweet home.
She directed him to her parents’ house. There was little activity on the street, but it was early. “They’ll be up,” she assured
him. “They’re always up by six-thirty or seven.”
He muttered under his breath, “Unless they were up half the night, harboring a witness from the federal protection program.”
Christine leaned in to him. “Remember, she’s not the criminal, okay?”
He glanced at her and sighed. “You’re right.” You’re also damned gorgeous, even if you slept in a car.
He pulled in front of the house and they all got out.
She looked at him over the hood of the Expedition. “That question you asked me earlier?”
He smiled. “The one you conveniently didn’t answer?”
She smiled back. “That would be the one. Ask me again later, okay?”
“Later,” he agreed, and they walked to the front door of the house.
As she rang the bell, Ethan squirmed his way in front of her.
A tall, silver-haired man opened the door. He had kind, blue eyes that appeared very tired this morning. They crinkled when he saw who was on his front step. He pushed open the glass door and Ethan flew into his arms. “Lil!” He hollered over his shoulder. “They’re here.”
He drew Christine in with his other arm and the three of them hugged until his wife appeared behind them.
“Christine! Ethan! Oh thank the Lord!”
The man stepped back and allowed his wife her turn in the double hug. Tears fell freely from every face Doug could see.
He glanced over his shoulder. There weren’t many cars on the street. A shiny, silver Mercedes sat in the driveway. He leaned in over Christine’s shoulder. “Do you think we could move this reunion inside, please?”
She pulled back from her mother and swiped at her eyes. “Oh, sure. Let’s go in, everyone.” They took a few steps backward and gathered in the foyer.
Doug closed the front door and locked it.
“Mom and Dad, this is Doug Jackson, a marshal with the federal protection program. Doug, these are my parents, Stan and Lillian White.”
Stan White extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you Marshal Jackson. Thank you for keeping my family safe.”
Doug shook the man’s hand. “It hasn’t been easy. And I’m sorry to say we’re not done yet.”
Stan glanced nervously over his shoulder. “Yes, well, we understand that. We knew when Peyton showed up here that something was wrong.”
“Very wrong,” Lillian White echoed, looking at Doug. Her short silver hair was stylish, and she wore a pearl necklace with matching earrings and bracelet.
Is it even eight o’clock yet? Who wears pearls at eight a.m.? He caught her eye. “Yeah, well, a few things have gone wrong lately.”
“Peyton is here?” Christine piped up. “Is she okay?”
Stan nodded toward the living room. “They’re fine. Exhausted, but fine. We gave them something to eat before they crashed on the sofas.”
Doug followed Christine to the doorway. The room was large, accommodating two full sized sofas and several other chairs. Peyton was asleep on one couch, covered by a blanket. A boy he assumed was Ryan slept under a throw on the other.
“Oh, thank God.” Christine hugged Ethan and then her mother again.
“They must have driven straight through,” Doug commented. “No seedy motels.”
She shot him a look.
“Did you drive straight through?” Stan asked Doug. “You must be tired, too.”
Lillian added, “Can we get you something to eat? Then you can catch a nap in the guest room. We have plenty of space. We just wanted to keep the kids in view, you know.”
“Good thinking.” He returned Christine’s ‘look’ and replied, “We could probably eat, but there’s no time for napping. I’m going to check in with the service and let them know Peyton’s fine. I don’t think we’ll be staying long after that.”
“No!” Ethan gripped his grandfather’s waist. “I don’t want to leave yet!”
“Doug.” Christine clutched his arm. “We can’t just leave after all this time. And besides, I’m not sure I can do another ten hours in the car right away. I know you can’t, without some sleep.”
He held up his phone. “Excuse me. Is there somewhere I can make my calls?”
Stan looked at him then Christine. “We wanted to call you when they showed up. We didn’t have a number. The boy’s phone was dead and he didn’t bring a charger, so we couldn’t get anything off that.”
“I understand,” Christine smiled at her father. She motioned to a room behind them. “Doug, there’s a small sitting room in there. Close the French doors if you want privacy.”
“Thank you.” He went where she indicated. The ‘small’ sitting room was bigger than three rooms in the house they’d just left. Shaking his head, he closed the white framed, glass doors and sat to phone in his report. Before he dialed he hesitated, glancing around one more time.
He wasn’t aware Christine came from such a privileged family. Witsec had placed them in a nice, modest home. But perhaps, given the choice, that type of residence wouldn’t make her happy on a long term basis. Maybe she was a French door kind of woman, when he was used to screen door kinds of gals. Maybe he didn’t know Christine at all.
* * * *
Christine polished off some bacon, eggs and toast, pacing back and forth between the dining room and the front room, so she could keep an eye on her sleeping daughter. Ethan regaled his grandparents with stories about school and Little League in between bites of food. Doug’s phone calls took a good half hour, but when he returned he sat long enough to eat some breakfast.
“Ethan,” Christine guided her son to the front room. “Sit in here and play your game with the headphones. If your sister wakes up, come get me. We need to talk to Doug, okay?”
“Sure Mom. I’ll watch them. They won’t get past me.” He nodded confidently.
She smiled. She didn’t really think Peyton would be that crazy, but not having talked to the girl yet, she wasn’t sure of her state of mind. The real reason she didn’t think they’d take off was simple—they had nowhere else to go.
She entered the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee before sitting. “So?”
Doug pushed his plate away from the edge of the table. “The police have cancelled the APB. Everyone is aware we’ve got Peyton. Ryan’s parents are flying in. The police will pick them up at the airport and call me when they’re here. A patrol car will come for him, and they’ll drive his car to the station. From there, he and his parents are free to go.”
Stan scoffed. “Sounds like a whole lot of needless steps to me. If they dropped the parents off here—”
Doug raised a hand. “This isn’t up for debate. The security of your family has already been compromised. No one else needs to know where you live, who you are, any of that.”
“So melodramatic!” Lillian exclaimed. “Everyone is safe here. We have a security system. It calls the police if someone tries to enter without the code.”
Christine inhaled. She saw Doug’s face, and knew what was coming. She touched his forearm. “Doug, please—”
He frowned. “No, Christi. I’m not going to sugar-coat it for these people. Mrs. White, your security system is fine for keeping out garden-variety criminals, but that’s not what we’re dealing with, here. Martin Newsome’s life is on the line. Larry Stewart is going to provide key testimony to put Newsome away forever. Newsome ran a huge organization that made millions of dollars. If you don’t think he’s still connected, even in prison, then you’re very naïve.”
She opened her mouth to speak but her husband laid a hand on her arm. Lillian closed her mouth.
Doug went on, “Newsome and his partners would pay big bucks to shut Stewart up. If he was truly involved with the Russo family, well, that makes him even more dangerous. Sal Russo is walking the streets and try as they might to find out, nobody is quite sure what he’s up to.”
“Someone found us, Mom,” Christine explained. “They started sending us stuff. UIC brochures to Peyton, flowers to me--”
&nb
sp; “On your anniversary. Peyton told us. She thought it was very sweet.” Lillian said.
“Sweet?” Doug practically choked on the word.
Christine placed her hand on his arm again. “A strange man followed the kids and gave Cubs stuff to Ethan. That’s not sweet, Mom. It’s stalking, and it’s very dangerous. We think he may have found us through Peyton’s Facebook page.”
Lillian’s face lost all its color.
Doug added, “Which was strictly against the rules, and Peyton knew it. But she did it anyway, and seemed to think it was okay with your implied consent.”
Stan shook his head. “We knew it wasn’t right. It was just so nice to hear from her. We couldn’t help ourselves. We didn’t understand the danger.”
Christine shook her head. “Peyton did. She sat through the Witsec orientation, and signed the consent forms. She knew better.”
“She’s just a child!” Lillian protested.
“She’s seventeen!” Doug retorted. “We’re not talking about a ten-year-old boy. It would have been easier to understand Ethan making a lapse in judgment because he really might not have known better. But he understands what she did was wrong. Peyton just refuses to get it, or admit that she gets it.”
“Okay, okay.” Stan waved his hands. “The damage has been done. No need to persecute the girl. The question is, where do we go from here?”
Christine wanted to know the answer to that herself.
All eyes were on Doug. He inhaled and let the breath out. “Newsome’s trial starts this week. Chicago Witsec thinks you’re all safer here than us trekking back across the country to Topeka.” He looked at Christine. “Especially since you won’t be living there anymore.”
Something in his eyes touched her heart. She hadn’t decided where she wanted to live, yet. But somehow she thought she’d have a choice, some small say in the matter. The past few days with Doug had been some of the most intense of her life. She wasn’t sure where their relationship was headed, but she wasn’t ready to write it off.