The Fugitive's Secret Child

by Geri Krotow

  “I picked up on that.” Trina had the clear impression that Claudia would never ask her to participate in a mission she wasn’t entirely comfortable with.

  As they carried their coffees and two pastries back to Rob’s desk, Trina realized that she’d missed this. The easy way they fell into working side by side. Being with a man who understood her and didn’t think she was odd for having a lifelong desire to serve either in the military or law enforcement. The very few men she’d tried to date since Jake was born had been civilians and thought she’d want to “settle down” into a more “stable” job. What she’d wanted was a partner who’d accept her for who she was.

  Rob always had, and even though he’d prefer she transition to a less dangerous position, he supported her in this op.

  They started by reading the intelligence reports that had come in overnight via emails, courier delivery and texts. Trina almost dropped her cup of coffee when she read the worst news possible.

  “Vasin escaped!” Quickly, she scanned the intelligence, absorbing that he’d gotten free while being transferred from one federal facility to another. Rob read the same information from his computer.

  “ROC has endless money and contacts. That’s the only way this happened.” His mouth was grim, the lines around his eyes pronounced.

  “Rob, he’s not coming after us, is he?”

  “He may be. Thank God you sent Jake to his grandparents.”

  The reality of their mission would have been frightening if Jake were still in Silver Valley. ROC’s information network was far reaching, but they’d be hard-pressed to find out exactly where Jake was.

  Rob was already on his phone. “I need complete attention to this.” He gave her parents’ address and described Jake. “I’ll have his photo to you ASAP.” He disconnected and looked at her. “Trail Hikers security group. They’ll disperse agents immediately. We can’t trust local or even federal LEA. There’s a mole, probably more.”

  “Jake. I have to go be with him.” She couldn’t think of anything else but protecting her son.

  “You can’t, Trina. If Vasin’s after us, and you go to your parents’, you’ll lead them right to Jake. The best thing you can do is work with me. Let’s catch this bastard and save as many of the girls as we can.”

  She wiped a tear off her cheek. “You’re right. I know Jake is safe, but this is different, isn’t it?”

  “We’re in it together, babe. We’ll be back with Jake and Renegade in no time. And you won’t have to worry about Vasin.” He reached for her hand, and she gave it to him, along with her trust. This would work out.

  “At least we don’t have worry about that silly dog.” She forced a laugh, but really, she was grateful she’d thought to send the dog with Jake instead of putting him in a kennel, because Jake needed someone, something familiar to comfort him. If anything happened to her or Rob—

  No. Don’t go there.

  “I, um, stopped by the department store on the way here.” She shoved her hand in front of him, a fake diamond solitaire on her left ring finger. “This is to make our cover more solid.” An unexpected well of sorrow overflowed from her regrets at what could have been, if Rob hadn’t been hurt in the war, and she blinked rapidly, cursing her emotions in the midst of work.

  Rob’s free hand engulfed hers and infused her with warmth. “It’s okay. I get it.” His voice was huskier than normal and she peeked at him. His eyes held the same sadness as her heart. He regretted their past, too. But she also saw a twinkle.

  Hope. A chance to heal.

  “You do get it. Thank you.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue from her purse.

  Rob tapped the side of his mug.

  “Okay, let’s go over our plan one more time. We’ve got an hour until we have to be at the church, and it’s only five minutes away.” Rob placed his coffee on his desk and pulled out a chair for Trina to sit next to him. His computer was on a side table so they had a worktable between them, the surface spread with timelines and maps.

  “I would have thought you’d be more into technology.” She fingered one of the larger maps of Silver Valley.

  “Old habits die hard. My SEAL training always emphasized that with an EMP detonation, we’d lose all of our comms. Hard copy is always a good backup.”

  “I agree.” She still hadn’t gotten into the habit of keeping notes on her phone as many of the newer, younger marshals did. A small notebook and pen were always in her purse or back pocket.

  “We’ve picked the perfect time for this, as today is not only the welcome meeting but one of the days the outreach program goes both to the strip club for lunch, and the truck stop for dinner. We’ll say we took the day off work to help find our church home, and since we’ve been looking at SVCC we wanted to participate in one of its charity groups.”

  “That’s fair. My mom and dad like SVCC when they’re in town. I don’t go every Sunday, but I’ve been trying to attend more now that Jake’s older.” She steeled her resolve as she met his gaze.

  “I’m okay with that, Trina. I like the idea of my son, our son, having a familiar place to learn about something bigger than himself.”

  “You surprise me. When I met you, you were agnostic.”

  “And I may still be, but that doesn’t mean I want my kid to be any less educated or experienced in a traditional way. What religion it is or isn’t doesn’t matter to me as much as he’s learning right from wrong. Getting love from more than just his family. Kids only listen to parents so much, for so long.”

  “Did you attend church while you were in foster care?” She spoke quietly, as if her words risked cracking open his bad memories.

  “Yeah, it was the one good thing that the bastard who was my foster father did. He let his wife take us to church. It was an escape from his brutality and a place to relax and play like a kid. I did the children’s Sunday school and Vacation Bible School in the summers. As I got older I taught classes in both.”

  “You’ve never mentioned if your foster family wanted to adopt you.”

  “Are you kidding? Hell no. They wanted that regular check coming in from the government, and adopting me would end that.”

  “So you knew you were just a paycheck to them?” Her heart hurt at the thought of anyone treating Jake like that. Rob had made it against all odds.

  “Yeah. And I wasn’t stupid. I knew I was biding my time, too. Once I got too old for the old man to beat on me, because I’d grown taller than him, he continued with the verbal abuse. I knew they wanted the money my presence in their home brought each month, so I mouthed back to him. What was he going to do, kick me out? I spent very little time under their roof after I was fourteen or fifteen. It was a place to lay my head at night and claim as an address so that I could go to the public school in their district.”

  “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

  “Don’t be. It’s history.” Rob ended further discussion, and she let it go.

  As they went through their notes, Trina studied him. She didn’t believe his childhood in foster care was all “history” for Rob. Not if he was so intent on saving underage girls. It was one of the reasons she loved him. His compassion and sense of justice.

  Wait—had she just admitted she loved Rob?

  * * *

  Rob treasured that he didn’t have to tell Trina what this mission meant to him. What a thrill the possibility of being able to rescue underage girls from their sordid life was. Not an adrenaline rush, though that was there. It was more a sense of complete justice, of knowing he was using what he’d learned from his own rough and tumble experiences to reach out and lift someone else up. Being able to share this work with Trina elevated it to more than work or an op; this was his life’s calling.

  He didn’t want to scare her off with his deep thoughts—they were shaking him up enough.

  “We didn’t s
ay if we’re going to say we live together or are engaged.” Rob casually wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked up to the church’s community room entrance. He loved that she didn’t move away or stiffen but relaxed into him. As if she, too, wanted this engagement to be more than an undercover op.

  “Either one works. Maybe with Jake in the picture, and since so many of these parishioners know my family, we should say engaged. To keep it looking serious.”

  “What will we tell them later, after the op?” He wanted her to want what he did.

  Her spine stiffened, and now she moved away from him, stopping the middle of the walkway. Trina’s eyes sparked with defensiveness. “Relationships end. It shouldn’t be such a shock to anyone.”

  “They’ll eventually find out I’m Jake’s father. Everyone will.”

  “What do you want from me, Rob? Yes, everyone will know that you’re Jake’s father, but not until you and I tell him. We haven’t even sat down with my family yet.”

  “I don’t see why your family needs to be involved in this.” He spoke too quickly and wished he could suck the words back in. “Trina, I don’t mean they aren’t important. You know me, it’s my hang-up. I’m not used to having a family that cares so much about me.”

  “You’re not used to family, period. If you’d been raised differently I doubt you’d have walked away from me and Jake five years ago without a word. You’d have used your brain to see that there was a good chance it was your kid.”

  Red-hot anger flared deep in his chest, and he wanted to lash out. Not at Trina—never at Trina—but at the world and life. He breathed in and out, counting backward from twenty before he replied.

  “I deserve that. However, I can’t do a damn thing to change my distant or recent past. I can only change today and going forward. You know what my plan is, Trina—I’ve made it clear that I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for Jake for the rest of my life.”

  Her stony expression eased a bit and he knew he’d cornered her, put her on the defensive by mentioning how his relationship with Jake was sacred to him. Again. No matter how frustrating it was for him to have to keep repeating his intentions, he had to remember that Trina had suffered the most of anyone in this hot mess. Jake hadn’t missed what he didn’t have, and Rob had known Trina was alive and well.

  Trina had grieved his death, birthed their son and started her life over.

  “You’ve got no reason to trust me ever again, Trina. And yet you’re here, ready to put your life at risk to save the lives of innocent girls. I don’t expect it to happen overnight, but if you could extend a little bit of the working trust we share to our personal relationship, it would be easier on both of us.”

  “That’s fair.” Her annoyance was clear in the lines around her mouth, but at least she didn’t walk away or change her mind about working with him.

  “Thank you.”

  “I know your childhood was messed up, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re a good father. You’ve already invested more in your son over the past month than a lot of dads do during an entire lifetime. And I’m not ignorant, either. I know that Jake could be a shiny new toy for you, one that you’ll grow weary of putting all of your effort into. But that’s not you. I do trust you, Rob. I’m just not very good at showing it.”

  Relief made him want to shout out loud “Yes!” Instead he held his hand out to her and smiled. “So we’re engaged, huh?”

  “Yes. And we’ll celebrate later.” Her eyes promised so much more than just making love. He pulled her to him and kissed her, needed her up against him, on top of him.

  “Rob.”

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re in front of the church’s main entrance.”

  * * *

  Trina had never seen so many silver-haired ladies go gaga over a man before. Dimly she remembered her mother saying that the nursing home where her grandmother resided was full of fit, active women all vying for the affections of a very few senior men of equal ability. It had seemed foreign, nothing she needed to think about, until she saw Betty Laurel shove her sagging, albeit smooth for an octogenarian, cleavage under Rob’s nose.

  “Here you go, sugar. Sign this list for the committees you want to serve on. This one meets on Wednesdays, as you know. We have outreach to the homeless on Fridays, and the meals-on-wheels committee meets daily as necessary.” Betty’s heavily made-up eyes ate up the sight of Rob. Trina watched Rob handle the attention with aplomb, treating Betty and the other senior women as if they were his age and eligible.

  He had them eating out of his palm.

  Trina loved Rob’s hands and his palms. Especially when they were on her breasts.

  “Trina, honey, what made you decide to come in on this committee? I thought working for the Marshals would make you sick of helping out people, at least on your downtime.” Mildred Maple sat next to her in the church cafeteria where on Sundays after services the congregation was treated to oversize doughnuts and hot soup.

  “There’s always more work to be done, right? And since Rob is interested in doing more for the community, I thought this was a good place to start.”

  “I’ll bet your parents are thrilled that you’re getting married.”

  “Oh, um, we’ve only just gotten engaged, and we’re in no hurry.”

  “Why wait? Your little boy is so darling, and he’s the perfect age to be a ring bearer.”

  Trina gave her a wobbly smile, but it was her best at the moment. Thankfully a woman on Mildred’s other side started talking and distracted her from grilling Trina further.

  A warm hand squeezed her thigh. “You handled that perfectly.” Rob’s mouth was next to her ear as he assured her they were blending in. The heat of his breath made her squeeze her legs together against the rush of awareness.

  “How soon can we get to the bar?” she whispered back to him, breathing in the scent of his soap and shampoo. He grabbed her hand and held it between them, giving her another reassuring squeeze. She could get used to being supported like this. Mentally she counted the hours until they’d be done with the outreach tonight. It was the perfect night to show Rob exactly how much her trust in him had grown.

  The man who’d greeted them at the door, Carl, stood up in front of the almost dozen people gathered and clapped his hands smartly, twice. “Okay, folks! I see our two newest members—welcome. As a brief reminder, not all of our efforts have been successful, so when we’re allowed in one it’s on us to be polite and professional to all we meet. The owner of the local club doesn’t have a problem with us being there, for now, because he wants to give the appearance of being above the law and not tied into any illegal actions. Another reminder—we are not law enforcement or vigilantes. If you see anything troubling, wait until we’re out of there and then tell me. I’ll report it to SVPD or go with you as you report it. Unless it’s an emergency situation, of course.” Carl made it a point to make eye contact with each volunteer. “Let’s get going. Mary is going to run down who’s assigned to which station today, and then we’ll drive to the bar. Anyone in need of a ride, please join us in the church van. I’m driving.” The ladies all chuckled, sharing some inside joke.

  “Will there be room in your car?” Mildred leaned so far in front of Trina to see around to Rob that Trina imagined poking her with her index finger, just to see if she’d topple.

  “I’m sorry, but Trina and I have to get Jake from camp right afterward, so we’ll drive on our own.”

  “Well, phooey. I’ll take the van, I guess.”

  Trina walked over to Rob, who stood at the assignment table. “We’ve got the dessert spread.”

  “Sounds good.” She slipped her hand into his, cozying up next to him like a good fiancée.

  “Anyone ever tell you that you could make it on the stage?” His murmur was low and urgent.

  “I’m not a good actor, FYI.”r />
  * * *

  Trina had been inside the strip bar twice since working the Harrisburg office, and it hadn’t changed. There was new carpet in the front lounge and it was very quiet, since it was a weekday before opening time.

  “Does this place usually draw a big crowd?” Rob took the tray of cookies and placed them at the edge of the table, next to a pile of smaller paper plates and napkins.

  “When I’ve made my apprehensions here it’s been booming. The music’s so loud, it’s like a rock concert. There are always at least half a dozen girls on the stage.” And probably more in the back, doing private dances. But she hadn’t been interested in that when she’d come in, as she’d had specific people to arrest.

  “I’d like nothing more than to bring the bastards down who would even think about putting an underage girl in here.” Rob’s growl was louder than the crunch of her bite into a particularly good snickerdoodle cookie.

  “I agree. I love what I do for the Marshals, but I’ve often thought I wouldn’t mind doing something a little different.”

  “Trust me, if you stay in TH long enough, you’ll do a lot of different things.”

  “Better be quiet.” She smiled as Carl approached their table. “Hi, Carl. We’re all ready!”

  “Okey-dokey. The women will start coming in over the next twenty minutes. Some days we get no more than two or three who are willing to grab a bite—other days we’ve had as many as twenty. And not all are trafficked, or here illegally. Some are legit, and enjoy the meals and goodie bags just as much.”

  “That’s a lot of employees for one bar.” Rob shook his head, playing the suburban fiancé to a T.

  “What did you say you do, Rob?” Carl knew Trina’s parents and they’d met on occasion, so he knew what she did. Everyone at SVCC did, it seemed, so she’d had to play up her desire to do community service more than she’d expected. For some reason they all thought her job was enough. She had a hard time making the correlation. She was a US marshal, not a minister or physician. Those were professions that she admired.