by Jamie Hill
His coworker finished his soda and tossed the can in the recycle bin. “We haven’t lost them. And we’ve probably never had this high profile of a case before. With the trial starting next week, it’s all coming to a boil.”
Sticking his head out the door, Doug glanced into the front room where the family still slept. He’d been relieved when they’d finally conked out. Each of them had resisted it, but nighttime eventually got the better of them. Waiting is boring.
He said a silent prayer that they’d sleep all night, giving him more time to figure out what to tell them. He wouldn’t lie, but didn’t want to show them the video, either. The pain in Christine’s eyes already was tough enough to bear.
Silently, Doug paced from one end of the condo to the other, making sure everything was secure. He finally settled in at the table next to Ben.
“I need a ‘Q’ word.” His friend stared at the app on his phone.
“Don’t tell me Jordan’s awake this time of night.”
“No, but it’s my turn.”
“Let me see.” He studied the small game board. “Your letters suck, man.”
“Yeah, but there’s a triple word score open, right there.”
“You could play ‘cat’.”
“I’d earn nine whole points. Gee, you’re helpful.”
Doug smiled and passed the phone back. “Doing what I can.” He glanced up as someone appeared in the doorway.
Peyton’s eyes were red and her hair was tousled. “Anything on Grandma or Ethan?”
“Not yet.” He motioned to his coworker. “This is the marshal I told you about. Ben Markham, meet Peyton Scott.”
She clenched her jaw. “Stewart. My name is Peyton Stewart. I’m not lying anymore.”
Ben leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, well, when I was seventeen, I thought I knew everything, too. Your family didn’t enter Witsec to lie, you did it to protect yourselves. There’s a huge difference.”
“And see how good everything worked out! We’re all nice and safe here, aren’t we?”
Doug inhaled, trying to think calmly and rationally before he spoke. “For over forty years, no Witsec participant following the rules has been harmed or killed while under the active protection of the US Marshals Service.”
“Active protection? Does that include sitting here playing games on your phone?”
Ben frowned. “While you’re asleep, yes it does. Chicago police are watching the outside of the house. Doug just made the rounds in here and everything’s secure. What would you like us to do?”
“I’d like you to find my grandma and brother!”
Doug sighed. “Each of us has our job to do, Peyton. If my going out there right now would help find them, I’d be gone in sixty seconds. But I’ve been instructed to stay here and keep an eye on the rest of you.” He couldn’t resist adding, “Unlike some people, I try to follow the rules.”
A heartbroken expression clouded her face. “Oh, God! This is my fault, isn’t it? Grandma and Ethan are in danger because of me!” Bursting into tears, Peyton buried her face in her hands.
He hesitated, torn between letting her absorb some of the guilt and trying to comfort her. She needed to realize what she’d done had been wrong. No one had been able to drill that into her yet. But he couldn’t stand to see her sobbing. She looked so much like her mother. “Peyton, come’ere.” Doug reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
She resisted, struggling to pull away.
He held firm. “It’s not your fault.”
The energy went out of her and she collapsed against him. “I’m sorry!”
“I know.” He smoothed her hair back. “I feel the same way. I’d give anything if this hadn’t happened.”
Ben cleared his throat. “Both of you need to realize this situation was way out of our control. There were too many unknown factors, still are. All we can do now is hang in there, and try our best to see this through to a good outcome.”
Sniffling, she glanced up. “Is that possible? Or are Grandma and Ethan already dead?”
Doug squeezed her shoulder. “Of course they’re not. They’re just fine. The kidnappers aren’t going to hurt them, because they don’t have what they want, yet.”
“What do they want? My father?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. Proof that he’s not going to testify, maybe? I really don’t know.” He released her and moved back into his own seat.
Ben stood. “Would you like some hot chocolate? There might even be some whipped cream for the top.”
She nodded, reaching across the table for a napkin to dry her eyes. “Thanks.”
Doug grinned up at him. Ben was no more pleased with the teenager’s antics than he was, but she’d evidently gotten to him, too.
“What? Can’t offer the kid caffeinated soda in the middle of the night.” He proceeded to pull out a carton of milk and some mugs.
Peyton wadded up the napkin into a balled fist and pounded the table. “I still can’t believe my dad did this. Things weren’t great at home, but they weren’t bad, especially money-wise. Like Mom said, we didn’t have bucket loads, but we had enough. Ethan and I usually got what we wanted.”
No doubt. Doug didn’t voice his thought, trying to be kind instead. “Maybe it was the stress of losing your other brother. Grief does strange things to people.”
She nodded. “That was rough. Mom and Daddy just couldn’t seem to get past losing Rusty. She became overprotective of me and E, and started nagging Daddy all the time. I guess he couldn’t stand it, because he spent more and more time at work.”
Ben said, “Sounds like some couples therapy might have been in order.”
“Mom tried, but he never seemed to have time. Honestly, they were headed for a divorce before this other mess came to light.”
Doug wasn’t sure why that made him happy, but it did. If anything were to develop between him and Christine, he wanted to make damn sure she was over Larry. Reality set in and he realized if this case didn’t have a good outcome, there’d be no chance of a future with her. He had no doubts about it. She’ll never forgive me if anything happens to Ethan or her mother.
On second thought, he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself.
* * * *
Christine woke with a stiff neck from sleeping upright on the sofa. She glanced at her father who’d slumped over and still snoozed against the armrest. Peyton had been on her other side earlier, but now was nowhere in sight. A tingle of fear jolted through her.
She rose and stretched, then followed the light and soft voices into the kitchen. Relief set in when she spotted her daughter seated at the table, talking with Doug and another man. “Hey.”
Doug’s brown eyes were warm. “Hi. I hoped you’d sleep longer. There’s still no news.”
She glanced in their mugs. “What’s going on in here?”
Peyton offered a small smile. “Ben made some really gross hot chocolate. He put way too much whipped cream on the top. E would have loved it.”
Christine’s heart lurched. “Don’t talk about him in the past tense!”
“Mom, chill. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
The dark-haired stranger made a face at her daughter before rising and extending his hand. “It may have been gross, but she drank three cups of it. Ben Markham, ma’am. I work with the cowboy here.”
She tried to compose herself as she shook his hand. “Thanks for coming.” She sat next to Peyton but glanced at Doug. “You never did tell me why they call you ‘cowboy’.”
He waved a hand. “You wear a cowboy hat to one office party and the name sticks forever.”
Ben shook his head. “More than one, and you should see where he lives. It’s a veritable ranch. He could have a whole herd of horses if he wanted them.”
It occurred to her that she would like to see where he lived, but the prospect seemed highly unlikely now. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be in Kansas again.
“How about some cocoa?” Ben offered.
“I’ll try not to make it gross.”
She smiled. “No thanks. I might try to lie down on the bed. That sofa was really uncomfortable.” She touched her daughter’s hand. “Why don’t you come with me? We need to sleep when we can.”
Peyton nodded. “I’ll try.”
They both stood just as Doug’s phone rang. He answered it quickly. “Yes, Chief. Really?” He gave a low whistle. “Nobody knew anything about it? I’ll be damned. Yeah, I got it. Thanks for calling. Talk soon.” He ended the call and looked at Christine. “Well, we found out what the kidnappers want.”
The words knifed through her. “We know for sure they were kidnapped?”
He nodded. “We were notified a couple hours ago. They said Larry would know what to do.” He glanced at Ben. “We figured they were talking about his testimony.”
The other marshal raised his eyebrows. “They weren’t?”
Doug shook his head. “It’s something more tangible than that.”
“What?” Christine’s heart raced and her voice cracked. “What does Larry need to do to get my son back?”
“Tell them where he stashed ten million dollars.”
Chapter Eight
Gold Coast Historic District
Chicago, Illinois
“They’ve disappeared.”
Sal Russo glared at his hired hit man. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘they’ve disappeared’?”
Berto Blevins scratched his bald head and shrugged. “It took months to track them down in Kansas. The family is on the run with the feds. I’m not sure there’s enough time to find them before the trial starts next week.”
Russo slammed his palm on his desk. “Sloppy work, Berto. To say I’m displeased would be an understatement.”
“I’m sorry. I tracked them as far as Chicago, but I’m not sure where they went once they got here. No one’s home at the grandparents’ house, and there’ve been cops coming and going from there all damn day.”
“Cops, feds…the gang’s all here. I think it’s time for you to lay low.”
Berto breathed a sigh of relief. He inched his way to the door. “Thanks, boss. I don’t need full pay for this one, maybe just enough to cover my expenses. Since I didn’t finish the job and all.”
Russo smiled. “Yes. Well, we’ll see about that.” He raised his voice. “Moyers?”
His assistant appeared in the doorway.
“Show our friend out, please.”
“Thanks boss.” Berto ducked into the hall.
Russo made a slashing motion across his neck.
Moyers nodded, and closed the door.
Spinning his chair toward the window, Russo sighed. He’d need to break in another hired gun, but with his connections that shouldn’t be much of a problem. Berto had screwed up, and in doing so, had become a liability. Russo had no place in his organization for screw ups or liabilities.
* * * *
Chicago, Illinois
Christine blinked. “Ten million dollars? Whatever are you talking about?”
Doug folded his arms across his chest. “Word on the inside has it that Larry was skimming from the money he was supposed to be laundering. Estimates have the amount as low as ten million, and as high as twenty.”
Peyton gulped. “Twenty million dollars? No way!”
Christine rose and paced around the kitchen. “I can’t begin to fathom how much money that is. I don’t see how he could do that and not get caught.”
Ben waved one finger. “He did get caught.”
“Not for that!” Her head reeled. Had she known her husband at all, or was the man she married someone totally different than who she thought? She shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
Doug frowned. “How can you stick up for him, knowing what he’s done? The money laundering was bad enough—he put your family in jeopardy from the get go. But this is something totally different. Stealing from a Columbian Cartel is like playing Russian roulette. Sooner or later, somebody’s going to get hurt.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sticking up for him. I’m just saying I can’t understand how he did this without my knowing about it. We had joint bank accounts.”
Ben added, “Except for the ones you didn’t know about. That kind of money calls for offshore accounts. You don’t walk into your neighborhood bank and hand over huge wads of bills without drawing attention. He was Valcor’s accountant, he’d know how to arrange the overseas stuff.”
“Oh my God.” She rubbed her temples. A thought struck her, and her eyes sprang open. “If they want their money, and Larry knows where it’s at, he just needs to tell them.”
Doug gazed at her skeptically. “He hasn’t so far.”
“They’ve never held our son captive before. When Larry finds out, he’ll tell them. I know he will.” She glanced at her daughter. “He loves his kids.”
Peyton smiled and nodded. “He does. He won’t let anything happen to Ethan. Now Grandma, I’m not so sure about.”
Christine chuckled. “Yeah, we can’t rely on his love for my mother to motivate him. They didn’t have the best relationship. But surely he wouldn’t allow her to be hurt.” Excitement buzzed through her. For the first time all day, she saw a light at the end of the tunnel they’d found themselves in. “They need to talk to Larry, and tell him what’s happened. This will all be over as soon as they do.”
“Maybe so.” Doug raised a hand. “But nothing’s going to happen until morning. I suggest you two try and get some sleep. It’s been a long few days, and my gut tells me we have more to come.”
She smiled. “But at least we have hope. That’s something.”
He gazed into her eyes. “Yeah, it is. So go, sleep. We’ll know more in the morning.”
She placed one hand over his. “Everything’s going to be okay. I just know it is.” Pulling her hand away, she smiled at Ben. “Good night. See you both tomorrow. Come on, Peyton. Let’s find a blanket for Grandpa, then we’ll go get some rest.”
“You really think this will be over soon?” Her daughter walked with her.
“I do. Your father holds the power to putting an end to it. He owes us this one. Admitting where the money is will go a long ways toward making things right.”
“Daddy’ll come through,” Peyton agreed. “For Ethan. For us.”
Christine kissed her temple. “I think so too.”
* * * *
Doug watched the women walk out, then turned to Ben. “There’s no way in hell Larry Stewart’s going to come clean.”
“No way in hell,” Ben repeated. “Right now he’s looking at twenty years maximum. He probably won’t serve that much. He’ll still be in the prime of his life when he gets out, and he’s going to want that cash.”
“He’ll need something, because his family’s not going to be there for him.”
Ben glanced down the hallway. “You sure about that? They seem pretty convinced he’ll be there for them in the end.”
Doug shrugged. “It might be hard for his kids to admit, but Christine knows the truth. You heard Peyton, they were headed for divorce before the scandal ever broke.”
“So why does she seem so starry-eyed convinced that Larry’s going to ride in and save the day?”
“Damned if I know.” He yawned, and checked his watch. Three a.m. “I might try to catch a couple hours if the offer’s still open.”
“Course it is. I’m wide awake. Go ahead, and I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks.” A twinge of guilt needled Doug. The last time he’d caught a nap bad things happened. Not this time. He knew Ben, trusted Ben. He needed to sleep when he could.
He saw that Christine had placed a blanket over her father, who was still snoring softly on the sofa. Doug entered the room they’d designated for Ethan and found Christine sitting on the bed, in the dark. “Hey,” he said softly.
She glanced up at him. “Oh, sorry.” She held one of the boy’s T-shirts in her hands. “Peyton fell asleep before her head hit the pillow. I j
ust can’t stop wondering where Ethan’s sleeping tonight.”
“He’s with your mother. He’s not alone.”
“It helps knowing that.”
“I’m sure they’re fine.”
She gazed at him skeptically.
“Seriously. E and Lillian are bargaining chips to whoever has them. It makes no sense to harm anyone before they get what they want.”
“And after they get it? Do you believe they’ll release him and Mom?”
“They said they would.”
She smiled sadly. “And drug lords always do what they promise, right?”
He moved in front of her and held out his hands.
She took them, and he pulled her to her feet.
“We have to remain positive. Sinking into the ‘what if’ mentality does no good. You’ve done great. Can you hold on a little bit longer?”
“It’s hard, Doug. I’m scared, so scared. And if I start thinking how scared Ethan might be—”
“Don’t.” He drew her close and they hugged. Their bodies melded together as if they were made for one another. His mind wandered for just a moment, imagining this scenario in another time, another place.
Don’t. He couldn’t lose focus for even an instant. He spoke into her ear because he couldn’t bear to look in her eyes, or see the quiver of her lips. “Ethan is with your mother. They’re both fine. We have to believe that. And right now, we need to rest. Morning will be here soon.”
She nodded and slowly pulled away. “Thank you.”
“Good night.” He released her and turned his back. Watching her go seemed too difficult at the moment.
He heard the soft click of his door closing. With a sigh, he dropped to the bed and closed his eyes.
Shards of sun poked through the blinds when Doug opened his eyes again. Lifting his hand to read his watch, he was surprised to see it was eight a.m. He’d tossed and turned for a while and almost got up, but must have finally fallen asleep.