Illusive Witness

by S. Y. Thompson

  Slowly, Ruth released the breath she’d been holding. She felt some of the tension ease. “I believe you’ll try.”

  Her perspective shifted after that, events passing in fits and starts. So wrapped up in grief, Ruth started in bewilderment when Emma slowed and pulled down a dirt lane. At first, it appeared they’d done nothing more than drive in circles and return to the farmhouse. Goose bumps erupted on Ruth’s arms and her mouth went dry. Then they passed the tree line and she saw the safe house. Relief made Ruth sag in the seat.

  This place resembled the farm only in the outside setting. The house itself was a small, unassuming ranch style with a brick façade. As they approached, Ruth spotted bars on the windows. Brush and trees were cleared far enough away from the structure that residents would see anyone on approach. Another car already sat present in front of the closed garage door. Ruth tensed in dreaded anticipation.

  “Easy,” Emma said, briefly touching Ruth on the knee. “It’s just my partner, Marshal Moore.”

  Ruth nodded but remained tense. Trust came hard these days even as she spotted Moore exit the house and wait for them on the porch. He took the opportunity to light up a cigarette as Emma brought the car to a stop. Ruth sat quietly for a long moment, hesitant to relinquish her seat. Entering the house meant accepting the end of her life as she knew it and embracing the confinement of witness protection. Such stark reality wasn’t something Ruth could easily swallow.

  As cliché as it was, memories of her thirty-seven years flashed through her mind. Growing up with a loving family, Ruth had wanted for nothing. Her career as a professional golfer was icing on the cake. Unfortunately, rats had snuck in during the night and eaten that cake as well as every drop of buttercream. Ruth just wasn’t willing to accept that as yet.

  “Ruth, don’t argue with me over this.”

  “Isn’t there any other way?”

  Emma sighed heavily and Ruth could hear her exhaustion. “Like I said, we’ll see how things look in the morning. It’s late and we’re all tired.”

  With that, Emma left Ruth sitting in the Lincoln alone. She had no choice but to follow or sit in the car for the rest of the night. Ruth was tempted to give in to the childish impulse, which was exactly why she didn’t. Her stubborn denial of reality had resulted in two deaths tonight and she wouldn’t be responsible for any more suffering. Jordan had died because Ruth ignored Emma’s warning about Carlotti. Sitting in the car would only ensure that Emma and Marshal Moore stayed up outside to guard her.

  Reluctant and heartsick, Ruth trailed behind Emma the short distance to the porch railing. Moore’s eyes narrowed as he took a deep drag from his smoke and Ruth felt his ambivalence from a distance. He didn’t speak, but stared at his partner for a moment before his gaze shifted to Ruth.

  “Everything in order?” Emma asked.

  Moore nodded and dropped the butt onto the wooden porch, crushing the ember out with expensive looking dress shoes. “We got lookouts in the bushes and the place has been cleared.” He stood aside as Emma and Ruth entered the safe house.

  After taking a quick look around, Ruth lost interest in the house. It seemed clean enough but still carried a neglected air as though rarely occupied. There were no pictures on the walls and only the necessary furnishings for the living room. A low, battered yellow sofa occupied one wall, flanked by two equally worn chairs. One of the chairs was a blue leather recliner with duct tape holding the stuffing into the left arm. The other was a hard-looking straight-backed chair with a frayed cushion.

  A few pots and pans resided on an old gas range and Ruth assumed there would be some dishes in the cabinets. On the other hand, she decided that was a lot to assume considering the condition of this place. Apparently the windows were old enough that they didn’t fit the casements as they should. A board approximately two feet long held up the kitchen window and allowed a breeze into the small structure.

  “Cozy. I’d like to take a shower.”

  “It’s not the Ritz, but it’s a place where you can safely grab a couple of hours’ sleep.” Emma turned to Moore. “Are her clothes here yet?”

  The sound of a car pulling up preempted his reply. Ruth’s heart picked up tempo and she waited nervously as Moore peered through the living room blinds. He grunted and turned back to Emma. “That’s Phillips now. I’ll go get them.”

  Emma waited until they were alone again to speak. “I know he doesn’t say a lot, but Moore is a good man. He just takes some getting used to.”

  A simple shrug indicated Ruth’s lack of interest. Moore returned a few moments later and she heard the car leave. Ruth recognized her dark blue carryall and reached for the bag without thinking. Rather than immediately relinquish the supplies, Moore hesitated long enough for Ruth to get his message. Moore wanted her to know exactly who was in charge and wasn’t above using non-verbal intimidation.

  “Look, unless you want to go pee in the corner to mark your territory, give it up. I’ve been through hell tonight and there’s nothing you can do to top that.”

  Ruth didn’t wait for his reply. She snatched the bag out of his fingers and asked Emma, “Where’s the bathroom?” She couldn’t help notice the amused smile on Emma’s lips.

  “Straight down at the end of the hall. Take your time. No one will bother you.”

  Looking down at the satchel, Ruth realized she was the only one with a change of clothing. “Where’s your stuff?”

  “In the car,” Emma replied. “Marshals always have a go-bag stashed away for unexpected situations.”

  With nothing else she could say, Ruth spun on her heel and headed farther into the house. Eavesdropping shamelessly, she heard Emma say, “You really are an ass sometimes, Lyle. How about easing up a little?”

  Ruth took the longest, hottest shower of her life. Even then she didn’t feel completely clean. She scrubbed until her skin was raw and gave up only when the water ran cold. The entire time, Ruth played over every interaction with Jordan, searching for the pivotal moment when she said or did anything to reveal her true loyalties. Ruth couldn’t find one. Eventually, she realized Jordan had expertly played her. It probably wasn’t the first time she got close to someone to keep an eye on them for Carlotti.

  All along Ruth had thought she was falling for Jordan, but she had never realized her true nature. Twice, Ruth had trusted without reservation and almost signed her own death warrant. Never again. She resolved to be more suspicious in the future, starting with Emma Blake. Each time she’d let her guard down, it was with someone who went out of their way to be accommodating. Emma fit that bill. Lyle Moore was the only one who openly showed his disdain. When Emma looked at her, Ruth could see the warm concern in her eyes. That expression reminded her of the single kiss they’d shared. After Jordan, Ruth knew she couldn’t afford to believe in Emma.

  Logic insisted that Ruth should follow Moore’s direction over Emma’s, but Ruth didn’t like him. At this point she wasn’t so certain of her logic either. As she reached for a towel, Ruth decided all she could do was keep her eyes open and remain suspicious of everyone. She was too tired to think about it all now anyway. Her brain felt like mush.

  Ruth tossed her clothes into the trash bin after removing her items from the pockets. They were ruined anyway and seeing them was a constant reminder of shooting Jordan, something she never wanted to think about again. At least she still had her driver’s license, a credit card and a little bit of cash. Ruth had left her purse under the seat of the Jaguar, but removed items she’d need while at the club. She was grateful for that foresight now.

  She delved into the carryall to discover that whoever Phillips was, he’d thoughtfully packed a change of clothes, pajamas, shoes and socks. He’d even included her toothbrush, toothpaste and a hairbrush. The simple gesture was enough to start her tears again.

  “Enough,” she said gruffly, speaking in undertone so as not to be overheard. “No more tears. You had to do it and you’d better toughen up or you’re never going to get throu
gh this.”

  Ruth sniffled and dressed. Once finished, she emerged to find Emma leaning against the wall outside the bathroom.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine. Where’s Mister Personality?”

  “Lyle? He’s outside walking the perimeter and smoking. I swear he goes through a pack a day. We called in for some Chinese.”

  Ruth raised an eyebrow. “You get delivery out here?”

  “Actually, we’re not that far from the city. It just seems like it because of all the trees. We need to go over some things. Why don’t you have a seat in the living room so we can talk.”

  It wasn’t a question and explained why Moore was really outside. Apparently Emma wanted to speak with Ruth alone. Here it comes, Ruth thought as she followed Emma’s request. Ruth chose the battered recliner so that Emma couldn’t sit directly beside her. It wasn’t much, but was the first step in her plan to institute distance from others. Emma settled on the corner of the sofa as near to Ruth as she could get. Somehow, Ruth didn’t think this was good news.

  “I made some calls while you were in the shower and had a team pull Carlotti out of bed. He’s being held downtown on attempted murder charges.”

  “But you don’t have any proof,” Ruth pointed out. “You said you need forensic evidence.”

  “I said we need forensic evidence or your testimony.” Emma paused long enough for that information to sink in. “Carlotti will be arraigned in court on Monday morning. At that time, we’re going to ask that he be held without bail while waiting for trial.”

  “Do you think a judge will do that?”

  Emma nodded slowly. “It’s possible if we can show that he’s a flight risk. Carlotti has enough money that he could charter a plane to anywhere in the world.”

  “You don’t sound very sure.”

  Ruth felt her hands shake and grabbed her knees to keep the tremors from showing. She didn’t have to be told that Franco Carlotti was a very powerful man. He probably had friends in high places.

  “It depends on who’s sitting on the bench on Monday morning. Some judges are pretty lenient and Carlotti can always claim that he’s a pillar of the community.”

  “Hah, that’s a laugh.” The bitterness in the statement almost surprised Ruth. She didn’t like the changes in her personality, but maybe it was a good thing considering the circumstances.

  “He’s never been convicted of anything and he owns a very lucrative business. As bad as that sounds, I really don’t think this is going to go in his favor. Most of the L.A. judiciary knows that’s just a cover and attempted murder charges are very serious. Add two bodies to that with known ties to Carlotti and I think we have a fighting chance.”

  Ruth braced herself for the answer to her next question. “What time on Monday?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “What?”

  Emma quickly held up a hand. “There are only two people with that information outside the courthouse and the marshals who spoke with the judge. That’s me and Lyle. We can’t take a chance on that information leaking out.”

  “Who am I going to tell? An aunt that lives in Wyoming whom I haven’t spoken to in years?”

  “Sorry, that’s not the point. This is for your safety. I’m afraid that is the way it has to be. If Carlotti’s people find out what’s happening they might try something.”

  “Something? You mean they might help him escape?”

  Emma leaned over and took one of Ruth’s hands. Ruth wanted to resist, but her skin felt so cold and Emma was so warm. She knew the cold was generated by fear and felt ashamed by the weakness, but not enough to relinquish the contact.

  “I won’t lie to you. Someone could take a shot at you. With you out of the picture, that’s one less witness to testify. The good news is that you won’t be alone. We’ve never had enough to arrest Carlotti before, but now that we do we’re going to bring all federal charges against him and that means all witnesses will be there.”

  Ruth blinked in comprehension and suddenly saw a light at the end of the tunnel. “The first guy, the one in witness protection? He’ll be there?”

  “Yes. Our court system requires that all suspects have the right to face their accusers.”

  “What’s he going to testify about? Carlotti didn’t try to kill him too, did he?”

  Ruth didn’t really expect Emma to answer and wasn’t surprised when she hesitated. Emma released her hand and stood up, pacing away for a short distance. When she turned around, Ruth could see she had made a decision. Emma squatted down in front of her, close enough that Ruth noticed the small band of color around her pupils.

  “He’s testifying against Carlotti for racketeering and drug running. Unfortunately, his word alone isn’t enough, which is why we haven’t gone forward with this before.”

  “So he has some kind of proof then?”

  Emma nodded. “He says he has a book that he took from Carlotti’s office. It has names, numbers and everything we need for a conviction.”

  “If you have the book, why do you need me?” Ruth almost shouted the question in her excitement to escape this nightmare.

  “He has it hidden and refuses to tell us where until Carlotti actually goes to court.”

  “Damn,” Ruth muttered. “It’s the chicken and the egg. He won’t cough up the book until Carlotti goes to court, but Carlotti couldn’t be arrested without proof.”

  “Now you see our problem. We had to get him on a separate charge as an excuse to go to court.”

  “Then why the hell didn’t you arrest him for jaywalking or illegal parking?” Ruth shouted. She felt used. Emma had been planning to draw Carlotti in by dangling Ruth as bait all along. That’s why she had approached Ruth at the hospital.

  “He’s too careful for that.”

  Ruth was too angry to say anything further and Emma finally gave up. She didn’t leave the room, but did move farther away and switch on the television. Moore returned a few minutes later and their food arrived shortly thereafter. Ruth remained silent throughout the meal, forcing herself to eat to keep up her strength. After that, she retired to a small room with a twin bed. Emma took up residence in a corner chair, informing Ruth that she and Moore would take turns watching over her while she slept.

  Despite the assurance that the agents would switch off guard duty, Emma was there each time Ruth awakened with a nightmare. She would hold Ruth until she quieted and went back to sleep. Emma never complained, uttering comforting assurances before returning to the chair.

  The balance of the weekend passed slowly. Emma and Moore played card games while Ruth mostly slept or watched television. Ruth kept her thoughts to herself, fueling her anger at Emma and honing wariness. The effort to remain more vigilant and distrustful left her feeling wrung out and exhausted by the time Monday morning rolled around.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “DO WHAT YOU’RE told without any questions asked and we’ll get along just fine.”

  Marshal Moore growled at Ruth as he raised his right foot and rested it on the low coffee table. He lifted his pant leg and casually removed a small handgun from an ankle holster. Ruth was tempted to salute the overbearing asshole as he did a quick check and returned the pistol to its resting place. After he’d removed his foot from the furniture, Moore took another weapon from inside his jacket. Ruth assumed he wore a shoulder holster.

  “Have I missed something? Are we going into a shootout?”

  Moore drew back the slide on the black pistol and chambered a round. “I just believe in being prepared.”

  Leaving Moore to his preparations, Ruth sat down on the sofa. She wore a brand new pantsuit some nameless lackey had delivered while she still slept. The burnt orange blazer was a little tight and Ruth thought it made her stick out like a bull’s eye. She reached back to push the tag away from where it irritated her neck. The blazer didn’t really seem to match the tan slacks or brown shoes. At least they were a change from wearing the same clothes for
the last two days. She’d be really happy when she could go back home. If there was a sunny side to this situation it was that she’d be free to do exactly that after her court appearance.

  “Where’s Emma?”

  “Marshal Blake is taking one last check outside before we move. Make sure you’re ready when she comes back in. It’ll be too late to go to the bathroom once she returns.”

  There was no point in attempting to put Moore in his place. Ruth had tried it a couple of times in the last few days, but he didn’t seem interested in her opinion. Emma provided a welcome distraction when she came in the front door a few moments later. She glanced first at Marshal Moore before she looked across at Ruth. Her expression warmed and reminded Ruth of the interest Emma still obviously had in her. She’d seen glimpses of it from time to time during the weekend, but thankfully Emma remained strictly professional.

  “Time to go.”

  “Just the three of us? Shouldn’t we have an escort of some kind?”

  Emma shook her head. “We’ll attract less attention this way.”

  “What about the other witness?”

  “He has his own protection team. They’ll meet us at the courthouse.”

  Suddenly, Ruth had her doubts about all of this. “How do you know this book he talked about is real? What if your witness made it up?”

  “Are you stalling?” Moore asked, eyes narrowing in anger. “It figures. Just when we’re going to get this babysitting detail over with, she gets cold feet.”

  Emma looked confused. “What’s this about, Ruth?”

  “Just answer my questions. You seem to be taking a lot on faith considering that your source is a killer for hire.”

  “Of all the...”

  Emma cut Moore off by placing her hand on his arm. “Fine, clearly we’re not going anywhere until I explain this. Crime bosses are basically businessmen except they deal in illegal merchandise. Like most, Carlotti has accountants that keep the public books we can check at any time. There has to be another ledger he uses to keep track of other not so legitimate enterprises. There is definitely a book.”