The Hijacked Wife

by Winn, Bonnie K.

  “Can you prove who you say you are?”

  “Can you?” Jack parried, suddenly wondering if the phone number in the file had been a trap.

  “This sounds like a standoff neither of us can win,” Tom replied. “I suspect we’re going to have to meet face-to-face to prove ourselves.”

  Jack hesitated. If this was an impostor, he would be walking into an ambush.

  “I can’t hear what you’re thinking, but I suspect I know. You pick the spot—neutral territory. But I’m not too fond of dark wharves or warehouses in the middle of the night.”

  Something clicked in Jack’s memory, but he couldn’t remember exactly what. Uncertain whether that was a good thing, his mind raced as he tried to think of a safe meeting place. All the government places were out of the question. Security guards could have him locked up in seconds. He considered other public places like schools, but he wasn’t going to endanger any more innocent bystanders. “How about the Ford Theatre?”

  There was a pause at the other end of the line. Apparently the irony of the location where Lincoln had been assassinated wasn’t lost on the other man. “Fine. Inside?”

  “No. Outside—in front of the entrance.” Jack glanced at his watch. “In two hours.”

  “If this is Jack Anderson, it’s time to come in.”

  “Just be there,” Jack replied. Replacing the receiver, he hoped he hadn’t just set up his own assassination.

  Chapter 17

  “Son, the only people who meet in dark wharves and warehouses in the middle of the night exist strictly in the movies. And, frankly, I’m no movie star.”

  Jack whirled at the words, his heart thudding as he stared at the man who had managed to walk up behind him, despite the vigilant watch he’d been keeping.

  The other man stood his ground. “So, you really are Jack Anderson.”

  Jack swallowed everything he wanted to shout, settling instead for a quiet voice rich with emotion. “And you’re really Tom Matthews. No wonder I thought your words today sounded familiar.” They were the ones Tom had spoken the first time they’d met when Jack had naively suggested just such a meeting place.

  Their hands clasped in a sturdy, heartfelt handshake.

  “I have you covered,” a voice warbled from behind them.

  Both men froze.

  Summer crept from the lengthening shadows. “Don’t turn around.”

  Jack swallowed a second rush of adrenaline. “It’s really Tom Matthews, Summer.” He glanced at the other man. “Tom, this is Summer Harding.”

  “Are you absolutely sure, Jack?” she asked, her voice still trembling.

  “Yes. And if I’m not mistaken, Tom’s armed, so you’d better lose the weapon.”

  Tom turned slowly to confront Summer.

  Sheepishly she withdrew the Pez dispenser from her jacket pocket as she glanced at Jack. “I was worried about you.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Harding.” Tom offered his hand.

  “Summer, please.” She started to extend her hand, remembered the Pez dispenser and switched the toy into her other hand, accepting his handshake.

  “Summer,” he agreed, his perceptive gaze sweeping over her. “Now that we know all the players, I suggest we switch locales. This is a little too public for my taste.”

  Danny yelped just then, clearly startling the older man.

  Summer reluctantly turned around, revealing Danny securely strapped in the backpack carrier. “Actually, now you know all the players.”

  Tom shook his head as Jack’s story drew to a close. “I’m sorry you had my old telephone number. Of course, after it was changed, the new number was sent to all the relevant files.” He winced. “Which didn’t help you much. I’d like to tell you that you’ve got the wrong idea, that your file just got misplaced and that now it’s restored.” He glanced first at Jack and then Summer, who sat in matching club chairs in the small hotel room. “But I can’t. I’ve been doing some checking of my own since I saw your picture on the wire services. Nothing’s added up since.”

  “What do you think has happened?” Jack questioned.

  “Same thing you no doubt do. Internal corruption. I’ve been running a low-profile check of my own. There’s no other explanation.”

  “But now that you know, you can help Jack, can’t you?” Summer asked anxiously.

  But Tom didn’t offer any immediate reassurance. Instead he studied Jack. “We can set up a new ID, new hiding spot, but Jack won’t be safe until we find out who’s behind this.”

  “But you can do that, can’t you?” she asked again, her anxiety visibly increasing.

  “Not without help,” Tom replied.

  “Then get help!” Summer leaped to her feet to pace. “You have the entire government at your disposal. Surely you can find enough help.”

  “There’s only one person who can help,” Jack answered for him, meeting Tom’s eyes.

  “What do you mean?” Summer asked.

  “A sting operation,” Tom replied. “To flush out the turncoat.”

  “That sounds good,” she admitted.

  “With Jack as the decoy,” Tom continued.

  “No!” Summer all but shouted.

  “It’s the only way,” Tom replied quietly. “We have to expose the insider who betrayed Jack, or he’ll be running the rest of his life.” Tom paused. “Talk it over between yourselves and let me know. We can iron out the details later.” Not waiting for an answer, he let himself out of the hotel room.

  “He’s right,” Jack responded slowly as the door closed behind Tom. “I can’t run forever. It’s best for Danny to end the hiding and constant relocating. This isn’t the kind of life I want for him.”

  “But there must be another way! I don’t want you and Danny to be running forever....” Summer’s voice wavered as she fought the emotion choking her. “But there has to be another way!”

  Jack took her hands. “There is no other way.”

  “But you could get killed!”

  “There are worse things than dying,” he replied quietly, searching her expression, pained by the tears he saw pooling in her eyes. “I have to do the right thing. I don’t want to orphan Danny, but I can’t raise my son to be a coward, to walk away from a moral obligation.”

  “Surely there’s a less dangerous way to do that!”

  “You told me you thought I’d done the right thing by getting involved in the first place, then testifying despite the risks. You even told me that you thought Linda would think so, too.” Jack gently squeezed her hands. “I believe you said that the reason I can live with myself is because I made the honorable choice. It isn’t time to end that sacrifice, to take the easy route.”

  The tears now spilled down her cheeks. “You talk as though you know what’s going to happen...that you’re willingly going to walk straight to your death.”

  Jack continued to hold her hands. “You asked if Linda would have been happy knowing Danny could grow up choosing the easy, less honorable path if I’d set that example. I think you were right. I couldn’t live in that shadow of uncertainty.”

  Chagrined, Summer listened as he parroted her words, knowing that what they’d shared had clearly meant a great deal to him. He had measured what she’d said and valued it. Desperately she clutched at straws. “How can you think of depriving Danny of his father?”

  “Have a little more faith in me, Summer. I intend to come out of this alive. If not, Danny will still be better off being raised by someone other than a cowardly father who doesn’t live by his principles.” Jack increased the pressure on her hands. “Which brings me to another point. If something happens to me, would you want to raise Danny?” He paused. “I’ve seen how good you two are together... I can’t imagine him being happier with anyone else.”

  Summer thought of the child she’d grown to love as much as his father. “Of course I want Danny!”

  “We’ll rough out some papers...make it legal.”

  Summer brushed at the
tears on her cheeks. “Sure. And if everything goes all right...”

  “You won’t have to worry about the papers, because I’ll be around to take care of Danny.”

  Her heart wrenched. She’d given him the opportunity, but he hadn’t said anything about her remaining part of their lives if he succeeded and came back safely. Obviously he didn’t envision her being part of his future. Instantly she was reminded of the trust she’d lost with Tyson, the trust she’d thought she was rebuilding. Bitterly she realized she hadn’t rebuilt anything. Rather, she hadn’t built anything lasting with Jack.

  Seeing that he awaited her reply, she shored up her courage, steadied her voice. “Of course.”

  His gaze fastened on hers, probing. Then something akin to resignation registered. He gently touched her cheek. “I’m counting on you, Summer.”

  Jack worked out the details with Tom Matthews, who had put out the bait at the Drug Enforcement Agency. Matthews told everyone at the DEA that his old contact, Jack Anderson, had resurfaced and that they were planning a meet. Then he gently let slip the details of where and when Jack could be found. He also made very sure that the same information made its way to the agency in charge of the witness-protection program.

  Now, wired with a transmitter, Jack drove to the appointed meeting spot, rechecking his map to make sure he was in the right place. Ironically he glanced around at the location Tom had chosen. Despite the other man’s distaste for “dark wharves,” he’d chosen a place surrounded by water, with a bridge the sole connection to land. The only other way to access the spot was by boat.

  Jack wondered briefly if Tom had reconsidered his desire to be part of a drama. The place fairly reeked of atmosphere. A row of metal buildings, admittedly not a warehouse, dominated the pitted asphalt lot. Potholes the size of small craters threatened to swallow unsuspecting vehicles. The buildings themselves were badly in need of paint, possibly even bulldozing. Assorted weathered railroad ties and old tires were piled around the buildings. A few covered trucks sat haphazardly in the lot. It was difficult to tell whether they were parked or abandoned. Jack rolled down his window. The smell of ripe barnacles and brackish water tainted the air.

  He couldn’t see Tom or any of his men; they were hidden cleverly. Resisting a shudder of premonition, Jack admitted that Tom had chosen well Anyone would have an ominous feeling, he decided, knowing he was purposely walking into a trap.

  The car rolled to a stop. Jack ignored his own misgivings as he left the car. He checked the doors on three of the buildings before he found one that was unlocked. Taking a deep breath, he entered.

  Immediately he was hit by the gloom. The pervasive darkness threw him for a moment as he tried to regain his bearings. From the layers of dirt and dust, it didn’t look as though anyone had set foot in the place for years. Another shiver skittered up his spine. Resolutely Jack threw off the feeling. If the place looked like a welcoming living room, it wouldn’t be a convincing backdrop for the meet Besides, Matthews knew what he was doing. The DEA commander was one of the best.

  The door creaked open. Jack took a deep breath. It had all come down to this moment.

  Summer pounded on the back of the driver’s seat. “Can’t you go faster?”

  “Yeah. But it ain’t worth it for me to get a ticket.”

  “I’ll pay the ticket,” she pleaded.

  “You gonna pay my insurance premiums for the next five years? They’ll hike ’em up past my boot tops.” The driver ignored her, shaking his head. “You’ll get there, lady. Won’t take more’n five minutes.”

  “You don’t understand! It’s a matter of life or death!”

  The cabbie rolled his eyes. “In this town, it always is.”

  Despite her continued pleas, he wouldn’t move any faster. Gripping the door handle with chilled fingers, she counted off the minutes until the place came into view. Leaning forward, she strained to see. Trying to remember the map she’d glanced at so briefly, Summer wasn’t sure it looked like the right address. Her heart still jumped as she remembered Tom Matthews’s surprise.

  “What do you mean the map sent over by courier?” Tom had asked. “I didn’t send anything by courier.” Then he had sworn, briefly but eloquently.

  “What’s wrong?” Summer asked.

  “Hell, I promised him—”

  “Won’t his transmitter lead you to him?” Summer demanded.

  Tom shook his head. “We haven’t activated it yet—there won’t be a signal.” He paused. “Did you see the map?”

  “Just for a minute.”

  “Do you remember it?”

  “Some of it...I think.” Briefly she told him what she remembered, hesitating at a few of the street names, not certain exactly what some of them were.

  “You stay put, Summer. I’ll take care of it.”

  But she couldn’t stay behind. Immediately she had dialed the front desk and asked about a sitter. While she explained that it was an emergency, the manager on duty responded immediately, taking Danny into his care.

  Now Jack was alone with two men intent on killing him. And increasingly, as the cab driver helped her to negotiate them to their destination, she realized she’d given Tom Matthews the wrong directions.

  As he’d feared all along, Jack had walked right into a trap.

  The slash of daylight from the opening door penetrated the thick darkness.

  Swallowing that flash of premonition, Jack stepped forward. “Tom?” he asked as he had been instructed to do.

  A mocking laugh answered him. “Hate to disappoint you, Jacky boy. But it’s not Tom.” Fisher flashed a humorless grin. He gestured with his thumb toward another man, but Jack was surprised to see that it wasn’t Wilcox, but some younger, unimportant thug. “Gee, Jack doesn’t look all that happy to see us.”

  The second man laughed as though Fisher had said something humorous.

  “How’d you find out I was here?” Jack challenged, remembering his role.

  “You didn’t think you could run forever, did you, Jack? Hell, we liked giving you lots of line, just so we could enjoy reeling you in that much more.”

  Jack felt the warm rush of anger and restrained it. Now was not the time to show his true feelings. He had a deeper purpose.

  “So you’ve found me. What now?”

  Fisher’s laughter, like the man, held a mean quality. “Oh, now we’re going to have a good time, Jacky boy.” He advanced.

  Jack forced himself not to plant his legs in a fighting stance.

  The second man, who had yet to speak, took a step forward, as well.

  “What happened to your partner in crime?” Jack asked. “Or is he still in prison?”

  “Wilcox? Don’t you worry about him. He’ll be along. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  Jack sensed there had been a shift in power. He’d always thought Wilcox and Fisher were pretty much equals. But he guessed that had changed. It looked as though Fisher had been put on the front line while someone else was giving orders. “You his flunkie now?”

  Fists slashed out, blindsiding him.

  “Watch your mouth, Jack, or you won’t last till Wilcox gets here. And I’d hate to see him miss out on the big moment. He’s been ... anxious to see you again.”

  Jack shrugged away the pain. “And I guess you snap to his commands.”

  “You always were a slow learner, Jacky boy.”

  Jack prepared himself for the blow, but didn’t expect the flash of the switchblade from Fisher’s sidekick. The quick slash opened his arm, spilled the first blood. He clapped a hand across the wound, ignoring the burst of needlelike pain, refusing to acknowledge it to Fisher. “So, I take it Wilcox’s coming to the party?”

  Fisher’s ugly laugh echoed through the empty building. “Now you’re getting it, Jacko.” His mouth curled downward into a surly scowl. “But don’t press your luck. If you don’t last till Wilcox arrives, I won’t get too choked up.”

  “Maybe Wilcox won’t agree with your pla
n,” Jack countered, knowing he needed to draw Fisher into revealing the turncoat within the agency.

  Fisher’s laugh was another ugly bark. “It’s his plan, you idiot.”

  “But you two didn’t work alone, did you? You must have had some help getting all my information, then wiping out my file.”

  “Too bad you weren’t so smart before, Jacko.”

  “Was it Matthews?” Jack guessed, hoping the absurdity would lead Fisher into talking.

  “Maybe.”

  Jack’s senses reeled. Had he been so wrong? Was his every instinct off base?

  Fisher laughed again. “You’re too easy, Jack. Too bad we don’t have time for a few hands of poker. I’d make a fortune.”

  Jack remembered to breathe again. “Then who?”

  “Sedgewick.”

  It took Jack a moment. Was Fisher toying with him again? “Donald Sedgewick?”

  “If you’re waiting for the gotcha, you’ll grow old before you hear it” Fisher’s nasty laugh rang out again. “Oh, I forgot. You aren’t sticking around long enough to grow old.”

  “You’re telling me the head of the agency sold me out?”

  “Don’t take it too personal, Jacko. Sedgewick would sell out his own mother if the price was right.”

  Jack’s mind raced furiously. “So you paid him enough to copy my file and then delete it?”

  Fisher’s smile was pure evil. “He’s doing the paying this time. We paid him enough for his tips when he was part of the DEA. Now it’s payback time.”

  “So you’re blackmailing him? That’s why he wiped out my file?”

  “Very clever, Jack.” Another voice carried from the doorway. “Money soothes most consciences.” Pale eyes cut through the gloom as Wilcox joined the group, accompanied by another man who remained in the shadows. “Too bad you couldn’t have learned that for yourself. You might be facing financial independence instead of death.” Then his chilly gaze rested on Sedgewick, who hesitantly emerged from the darkness. “Right?”

  Donald Sedgewick’s fleshy lips twitched. “Right.”