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In Plain Sight

Page 21

by Susanne Matthews


  Jake sighed heavily. Misty turned and saw him slip his smartphone into his pocket. “I just got a message from my source in Ireland. The man who issued the contract on you, Kerry Doherty, died of cancer last month in Dublin. He fled there after his organization was taken down. We don’t know who’s replaced him. I know it may not feel that way at the moment, Misty, but you did the right thing five years ago.”

  “I’m not so sure about that anymore, Jake.” She burrowed into Nick, knowing this might be the last few minutes they’d have together.

  “Doing what’s right isn’t always easy,” Jake conceded. “I called the deputy director and the only other person who knew you were here. He’s in the hospital. He was mugged a couple of nights ago, and his briefcase and tablet were taken. The arsonist knew you were here before that, so we have to assume she’s going after those she thinks might help you disappear again. In the past, they found you by torturing and killing those protecting you; she’s done it the other way around this time. When a killer changes their MO, it’s usually in response to some emotional trauma or the need to throw the police off because they’re getting too close. When that happens, it makes them more dangerous and unpredictable.”

  “But you don’t know she’s looking for Misty’s friends and associates; you’re assuming she is. It could have been a random mugging. They happen all the time in New York.” Misty could see the muscle jumping in Nick’s jaw as he tried to control himself.

  “You’re right,” Jake admitted, “but someone is looking into her background now. I did a random search and saw that your name has been flagged a couple of times lately, once in a routine IRS inquiry, another by a random search engine. This may be how they found you, but they’d have needed the name — both hits were after the fire, not before. She must have figured you’d run again once she learned you’d survived.”

  “Those were my inquiries,” said Nick, interrupting Jake. “I may be responsible for all of this.”

  Misty cleared her throat. Her palms were clammy, and she’d begun to shiver. Even Nick’s arm around her shoulder couldn’t stop the ice from filling her veins. Throughout Alexis’ explanation, she’d been numb. Now, the adrenalin had drained away, and fear and determination had taken its place. They’d have to leave. They had no choice. She couldn’t endanger anyone else.

  “No, Nick, you aren’t responsible. You didn’t start asking questions about me until after the fire — if what Alexis said is correct, the person found me before that. What’s going to happen now?” She directed her question to Amos.

  “I was going to have you follow us, but I’ve changed my mind. Until the marshals and the FBI are ready to make their move, stay here. I’ve seen the security cameras. You won’t be safe anywhere else; you may not even be secure here, but it’s the best we can do for now. I’ll contact the marshals and inform them of the change of plans. They’ll send a team to pick you up, but they won’t be here for at least three days. They don’t want to spook her and let her know we’re onto her.” His voice was choked, and Misty could see by the look on his face he meant everything he said.

  “The trail went cold five months ago. They couldn’t find any leads in the Ferguson case. He was the marshal who relocated you to Denver. Now, that someone’s after you again, they’ll reopen the case. Those SOB’s are persistent. There are at least four marshals dead because of Doherty’s vendetta, and the FBI would love to pin the murders on somebody. Alexis mentioned that she’d made mistakes. She left the cigarette butts, and hopefully we can get DNA from them. There are fingerprints in the garage. Once we eliminate yours and mine, we’ll see if any of them are hers. We’re leaving here with Alexis and Jake. Beryl and I will disappear for the time being. I’d stay with you, honey, but I can’t risk Beryl. With Doherty dead, his organization in ruins, once we catch this lone wolf, it’ll be over. Don’t worry, honey; we’ll find you.”

  Misty stepped away from Nick and put her arms around Amos. “I know you will.” Beryl stood and gingerly walked over to them. Misty let go of Amos and went into Beryl’s arms. “Take care of yourself.” She hugged the woman fiercely, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. She turned to Amos. “What’s the code word this time?”

  “It’s Aunt Eller, like in Oklahoma,” he answered. “The marshals, a couple this time, will be posing as your aunt and uncle. I’m hoping that’ll make it easier on Debbie. She had a hard time with the last move. Misty, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to keep my promise to keep you safe. I guess it would have been better if I’d stayed retired.”

  “Don’t think that way,” Misty said, hugging him fiercely. “These last eight months have been the best months I’ve had in a long time. I won’t forget you, and I’ll make sure Debbie doesn’t either.”

  • • •

  Nick didn’t like what he heard in Misty’s voice. She sounded as if she expected never to see them again when Amos had pretty much implied the separation would be a short one. She’s going to disappear on her own. No, I won’t let that happen.

  “You can cancel the marshals, Amos,” he stated, steel in his words, as he moved back to Misty’s side. “I have a team on the way. They should be here shortly. I’m going to put an end to this once and for all. I won’t let her be terrorized anymore, and I won’t let her go. I can’t.”

  Misty stared at him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nick. Of course I have to go. I have to protect Debbie, and because of me, you’re all in danger. Even Charlotte and Christy will have to be moved now. I won’t be responsible for any more deaths.”

  “And I can’t let you walk out of my life. I’ll protect Charlotte and Christy, too — hell, if Beryl and Amos want to stay, I’ll take care of them as well, but we’re ending this. I want a life with you, Misty. We’re not going to be looking over our shoulder for the next crazed killer out to earn a bounty. I’m not going to give you and Debbie up.” He pulled her into his arms.

  “What makes you think you can protect her when the FBI and the marshals can’t?” Jake asked belligerently. “I know you have money, but you’re blind, for God’s sake.”

  “I’m not the one who needs to be able to see. I have sharpshooters for that. Let’s just say I shop for people further up the food chain.” He turned to Nathan. “Are Bill and Katrina here?”

  “Yes, they’ve been on alert since we got back. They’re in the sunroom at the moment; John’s on patrol. The dogs arrived earlier this evening. You should have seen the girls with them. I’ll get Bill and Kat.”

  Nathan left the room and came back with a man and a woman, both armed and dressed in Kevlar vests.

  “Katrina here holds several black belts and was an Army sniper. Bill was a Navy Seal. John, the man outside, felt the property couldn’t be guarded by just one man, so he sent for his dogs. They look harmless unless you aren’t supposed to be around them. They’ve been taught how to recognize those they’re to protect. They spent most of the evening in the house while Misty and Nick were at the theater. All of the scents in here are friendlies — any others are not. They don’t kill on sight, but they detain. I wouldn’t suggest taking a walk outside if I were you. They won’t recognize your scents. Five more operatives will be here within two hours. If need be, we can get her away from here in less than five minutes. There’s a helicopter on the other side of the garage, and I’m a licensed pilot.”

  Nick pulled Misty against him. He knew the information had surprised her. He’d planned to share it privately, but it was time to lay all his cards on the table.

  “I spent more than ten years as a CIA courier. My talent as a pianist provided an excellent cover. The people coming here are those who’ve trusted me with their lives just as I’ve trusted them.” Nick held her tightly to his side and kissed her hair. “She’ll be safe, I promise.”

  Amos chuckled. “I knew there had to be more to you than being a concert pianist, but I didn’t see that coming. Beryl
and I will leave as planned; we don’t want to tip our hand, and moving in here would do that. I’m sure she’s watching the place. If she saw you together, she’d know Misty had to be here. I’ll let Jake know where you can find us when the danger is over. I think we’d better get going. It’s after three, and we want to be across the border by dawn. We aren’t crossing nearby. We’ll wait until we get to the Thousand Islands.”

  Goodbyes and hugs were exchanged, and after everyone had left, he sensed Misty walk back to him. She put her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “I know you think you can protect me, Nick, but you can’t. No one can.” She sounded crushed, and that worried him.

  “In the morning, I can take one of the other cars, and Debbie and I can leave. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. It’s for the best. I almost got you killed tonight.”

  Frustrated, Nick pushed her away and slammed his fist on the breakfast bar. He knew he’d frightened her when he heard her cry out. “Now, listen to me very carefully, Misty, because I am only going to say this once. I’m not letting you leave here tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. Damn it, woman! What can I say to make you understand? I love you, and I will not let you just walk out of my life into God knows what danger. We’re in this together now.”

  He stood there, opened his arms and waited for her response. When she stepped into them, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

  “Come on. You need to sleep, but before you do, there are still some questions you need to answer. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop anyone from hurting you and those you love. I don’t care if it costs me every last cent I have.”

  They walked down the hall to his bedroom — the only room he’d furnished prior to her arrival and the only room other than the music room that he’d really used before she came into his life. The gas fireplace had been turned on earlier, and the room was warm. While it contained a king-size bed, a sofa in front of the fireplace, matching bedside tables, and his dressers, the walls and tabletops were bare. He’d needed no light, so other than the glow from the fireplace, the room was shadowed. “I think this room will need a little redecorating. I’ll need a couple of lamps at least.”

  He led her to the bed, pulled down the duvet. “Get comfortable.” He listened as she settled into the bed. He walked around to the other side and joined her. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her as he’d hoped to do hours ago.

  “Now, tell me who you are and why the Irish mob is after the woman I love.” He kissed the top of her head and gently wiped the tears he felt on her cheeks.

  “I really should just go, Nick. These people have incredible resources.”

  “So do I. You aren’t alone anymore. I don’t like bullies playing in my sandbox. Now, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know where to start.”

  “Why don’t you tell me your name? Things will get easier once we’ve been introduced.”

  She gave a little laugh. “You know my name. It’s Misty Starr. I picked it because of the song, but I plan to keep it. I’ve had others, but I was born Shannon Connolly.”

  “Why not go back to Shannon?”

  “Shannon and Siobhan O’Hara, that was Debbie’s name, died five years ago along with 2 marshals. They relocated us to Atlanta when she was three days old. Within the year, the agent in charge of my case was killed, so we were moved to Colorado. When it happened again last year, Amos came for us and brought us here. I’ve never met Trent Starr and despite that, Amos and Beryl treated me like family, and now they’re in danger, too.”

  Her tears started again. He held her close for a few moments and kissed her gently, his mouth caressing hers tenderly.

  “You should really let me go away,” she whispered. “You’ll get hurt, and I couldn’t stand being responsible for that. So many people are dead because of me.”

  “Forget it, you’re stuck with me. Tell me about Shannon Connolly.”

  “More than anything,” Misty started, and her voice took on a dreamy quality, “I wanted to be on Broadway. My parents did everything they could to support my dream. I was accepted at Julliard, graduated with distinction, and had just started winning small roles when they were killed in a car accident. I’d met Kevin about six months earlier at a cast party after my first show had ended. He’d paid a lot of attention to me, and I’d thought he was the one — handsome, witty, and apparently connected to the right people. He’d showered me with attention and gifts, and I’d been so in love, or rather I’d thought I was. My parents hadn’t liked him; my dad said he was ‘slick,’ and he didn’t mean it as a compliment. Kevin was there for me after the accident, but I got pregnant. That’s when he changed.”

  She poured out the story of a cruel, abusive husband involved with the mob and how she’d discovered the truth about him and his plans. She’d fled her home at seven months pregnant, leaving everything behind to find safety for herself and her unborn child. Nick listened intently to every word, his fists clenching at what she’d endured; if she hadn’t said the bastard was dead, he’d have arranged it. He relaxed his hands and pulled her more closely into his arms.

  “You were incredibly brave, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her hair. “What happened next?”

  “Uncle Jimmy, my father’s best friend, came to the hotel where we were hiding, and I told him what had happened. He made a couple of calls and drove me to a house in Connecticut. I fell asleep in the car on the way there and woke up in a bedroom the next morning. The smell of coffee lured me out of bed and down the stairs. There was an armed woman sitting at the table who offered me breakfast and a cup of decaf.” She yawned. He knew she was tired, but he had to know it all.

  “So you went into protective custody. How’d you end up in the program?”

  “Uncle Jimmy was DEA. He came back to the safe house in the afternoon with some other agents and a couple of NYPD detectives. Knowing I was going to run, I’d made a list of as many of the license plates as I could see from my bedroom window when I’d gone upstairs that night. I had some vague idea that I’d be able to keep myself safe if I knew who might be following me — kind of naïve, I know. I gave them the list, and they showed me mug shots. I didn’t recognize them all, but I did know quite a few of them. I’d met a few of them when I’d been out with Kevin. Some had been in the house that day. It seemed the DEA had been watching those guys, too. I was in shock. How could I have gotten involved with drug dealers and killers? Uncle Jimmy suggested Kevin might have had something to do with Mom and Dad’s death, but I refused to listen. If that was true, it meant I was responsible, too. I’d fallen in love with that man, brought him home, married him, and was carrying his child — their grandchild.” She shuddered. Nick rubbed her back but didn’t say a word. She needed to get it all out.

  “I told the agents everything I’d overheard about the robbery at the Diamond Exchange. The police set a trap. Some of the men surrendered, but Doherty’s son and Kevin were killed in a shootout with the police. Just like that, I was a widow. I was glad he was dead. What kind of wife gets her husband killed and is happy about it?”

  “Misty, don’t go there. You did not get your husband killed. He did that all on his own. You did the right thing for all the right reasons. Think of the innocent people you saved that night. What happened after the robbery?”

  “I stayed in protective custody until the trial. The police arrested at least a dozen people — some who’d participated in the robbery, others they’d built a case against that my testimony cinched. The police found evidence in my basement, files Kevin had that incriminated Kerry Doherty, the head of that branch of the mob. They put out an arrest warrant for him, but he’d fled the country, but not before putting out a contract with a generous reward on me. He blamed me for the death of his son. This is a blood feud. It isn’t likely going to end well. The attempts on my life and the d
eaths as a result of those attempts started right away. The van waiting for me at the courthouse after I testified exploded, killing the marshals inside. I hadn’t gotten in because I’d gone into premature labor after testifying, and they’d rushed me to the hospital in the back of a police car. Debbie was born a couple hours later. The police announced that we’d both died as a result of injuries sustained in the bombing. An empty casket was buried with my parents in the plot in the Moravian Cemetery on Staten Island. Our names were added to the headstone, and we’ve been running ever since.”

  “Well, you’re not running anymore. My security expert will be here in the morning, and we’re going to set a trap for the SOB who tried to kill you. Two can play this game, and since I’m not the law, I don’t have to play by the rules. Jake says Doherty’s dead. Someone has taken his place, otherwise there’d be no reason to come after you. Blood feuds usually end when the last member of a family dies, so no doubt a relative has taken over. I have people on my payroll who’ll find this person, and when they do, I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse. Now, come on. You’re exhausted. It’s after four, and Debbie will be awake in three hours.”

  He held her close, listening attentively as her tears subsided and her breathing deepened. She’d been through so much. He let his eyes drift around the room. In the glow of the firelight, he could see the shapes of the various pieces of furniture in the room. Everything was still blurry, but each blob had sharper features than it had had only days ago. Once he was certain Misty was asleep, he allowed himself to relax.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Misty woke alone in Nick’s bed. The sun was up, and when she looked at the clock, she saw it was almost ten. Debbie! She jumped out of bed and ran down the hall and up the stairs.

  “Hi, Mommy.” Debbie and Christy were sitting on the floor playing with their dolls, watching a movie on the television in Misty’s living room. There was a woman sitting at the dining room table looking through a magazine.

 

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