Pieces of the Past (Witness Security Book 1) (15 page)

“Maybe he didn’t want to get out. Sounds like easy money to someone who’s not thinking clearly.”

“Maybe. It was certainly shocking to all of us when we found out. Christine, most of all. The authorities questioned her to determine if she had any knowledge of Larry’s crimes. They cleared her immediately.”

Doug rose and loaded his plate into the dishwasher. “I’m glad. I hate to think of her going through that.” He bit back further comment. He could easily sound like a sappy schoolboy, and nobody needed
to hear that.

“She’s a strong woman. Even so,
I’d like to see her with a good man. Your friend is nice. Is he married?”

He froze, trying to decide what to say. He finally managed, “Nope, he’s single.”

Stan polished off the last of his coffee. “Ah, well, it doesn’t matter. When this is over, she and the kids will be able to come home. They won’t need Witsec or Topeka anymore.”

Doug’s back was to the man, and he closed his eyes.
But what if I need her?

* * * *

Christine was shocked to discover she’d slept until nine-thirty in the morning. Still in her clothes, she hurried to the kitchen to check on new developments.

Doug and her father were
engrossed in reading, Doug looking at his phone while her dad studied the morning paper. They both appeared freshly showered and ready to meet the day.

She felt exactly the opposite. The TV commercial with the elephant sitting on the woman’s chest came to mind. Christine felt as if she was suffocating, cooped up in the condo with no idea where her son or mother were. “Any word?” She kissed her father’s temple and nodded to Doug.

“Hey,” the marshal replied. “Nothing yet. I’ve texted my chief, and we’re still in waiting mode. Ben’s catching a nap.”

Her father smiled sadly at her. “How did you sleep?”

“Awful. And by that I mean I slept, but now I feel horrible about it. How could I sleep when Mom and Ethan are out there somewhere?”

He hugged her. “I fel
t the same way, sweetie. Just hang on. We’re going to get through this.”

Doug stood. “Can I fix you some breakfast? Eggs, toast, coffee?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

He frowned. “You have to eat something. Toast?”

“Okay, whatever.” She sat. “I’m grungy. I need a shower.”

“Have a bite first, then get cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”

Christine stared at him. “Only one thing is going to make me feel better.”

Doug smiled. “You sure about that? You haven’t tried my scrambled eggs.”

She didn’t want to laugh, but a chuckle slipped out. “Okay, one egg. Just one.”

“Great.” He started cooking.
He finished and she was halfway done eating when his phone rang. He answered it quickly.

She heard his, “Yes, Chief,” before h
e moved to the other room to finish the conversation. Christine glanced at her dad. Neither of them spoke. Their eyes said all that was needed.

Returning to the kitchen
a few minutes later, Doug pocketed his phone and looked at her. “The Chicago Witsec chief wants to see you this morning. I told him we could be there in an hour.”

Panic rose in her chest. “Wh
y? What does he want?”

“He didn’t say, and it’s not my place to ask. I just agreed to get you there.”

“Oh God!” She turned to her father. “Something’s wrong! They didn’t want to tell me over the phone.”

He clasped her hand. “
If something was wrong, wouldn’t they have asked for me, too? Don’t jump to the worst possible conclusion.”

“He’s right,” Doug offered. “I don’t believe that’s the reason.
Rather than speculate, why don’t you get ready and we’ll go?”

Her mind raced. “What about Peyton?” She hated the thought of being separated from her daughter again.

“She’ll be fine here with your father and Ben. I’m going to let him sleep until the last minute, then I’ll wake him. If she can sleep, let her.”

Nodding, Christine wandered into the bathroom. She
pinned her hair up, showered and dried off before she realized she hadn’t brought her clothes in with her. Peeking into the hall she saw no one, so she wrapped the towel around her went out.

“Oops, sorry.”

She whirled around and spotted Doug a few feet from her. He didn’t look particularly sorry. His eyes appeared smoky, almost clouded, as he gazed up and down her figure. The glance quickly became one of appreciation, with a hint of pure lust. If she didn’t feel so lousy, she might have smiled. “Need something?”

He started to speak but paused, obviously checking his tongue.

Christine sighed. She knew it was a loaded question, but didn’t have the energy to edit every word she uttered.

He obviously understood and didn’t razz her. “Just checking, how long
will it take you to get ready? I’ll wake Ben and give him some time to acclimate.”

She pulled the towel tighter to her chest. “Ten minutes. I’m not dressing up for Witsec, even if this guy is the chief.”

Doug smiled. “Jeans will be fine. See you in ten.” He rapped on the door where Ben slept.

Without further discussion, she hurried into her own room. Peyton hadn’t stirred so Christine dressed quietly and slipped out again.

Ben had joined the men in the kitchen. He couldn’t have gotten more than a couple hours rest, but it didn’t show. His dark hair was naturally shaggy, and his light beard growth appeared natural.
Men have it made.
Wrinkles made them look sexy, gray hair, distinguished. Those things made women look old. At that moment, Christine felt old.

“There she is.” Her father put on an air of joviality. She knew he felt as crappy as she did.

“I’m ready.” She nodded, hoping to cut through the small talk.

Doug stepped forward. “We’re going. We’ll be back, or I’ll keep you posted.”

“Good luck,” Ben said.

Her dad gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek. “Be strong.”

Numb, she followed Doug into the garage and his SUV.

He punched an address into his G.P.S. and directions loaded.

“Is it very far?”

“Looks to be about twenty minutes.” He backed the vehicle out, adjusted his seatbelt and his sunglasses, then drove.

She stared out the side window. Once they got going, the main roads became familiar to her. Businesses she’d visited, stores she’d shopped out, a city skyline that felt as comfortable as an old fuzzy robe.

Topeka had grown on her, but it wasn’t home.
Yet.
She hadn’t decided what she was going to do when this was over. ‘Over’ seemed a long ways away. It was impossible to focus on the future until Ethan was safe in her arms.

A restaurant marquee caught her eye and she smiled. “Oh, look. Fuzzy’s Tacos. Ethan used to love to eat at that place.”

He glanced at it as they passed. “What kind of a name is Fuzzy’s? I see anything ‘fuzzy’ on my food, I generally don’t eat it.”

Christine shrugged. “I don’t know, but the food was good.
When the kids were growing up, we’d eat out on Fridays and take turns choosing the restaurant. E always picked that place. They had another location closer to our house.”

Doug nodded. “We should eat there once Ethan gets back, before we go home.”

She studied him for a moment, then returned to gazing out the window. Thoughts flooded her mind faster than she could process them, but something about his comment struck her.
Before we go home.
Going home with Doug and her children sounded really good right then.

He pulled up to a building she knew housed federal offices. It wasn’t anyplace she’d been before, even when they joined Witsec. “Is this i
t?”

“That’s what the directions say.” He parked then glanced around before they climbed out.

Her stomach churned when he unsnapped the holster on his hip to make his gun more accessible.

“Let’s get inside.” He motioned to the door.

A shiver ran down her spine. “No kidding.”

They hurried into the building and rode the elevator to the sixth floor.
Doug flashed his badge at the receptionist. “Marshal Doug Jackson. I’m bringing Christine Scott to see Chief Wilson.”

The petite, blond woman stood and motioned them to follow. “Right this way.” She lead them into a conference room with a large table and a dozen chairs around it.
“Have a seat. The chief will be right in. Can I get you some coffee or a soft drink?”

“No thank you.” Christine dropped into the nearest chair, her knees shaking.

Doug shook his head and sat next to her. “No thanks.”

The woman smiled and nodded, then left them alone.

Christine glanced around the non-descript room. With no bookshelves or anything decorative, it could be the conference room in any one of a thousand offices. “Not real homey, is it?”

He chuckled. “The marshal service prides itself on anonymity. I’m sure the chief’s office is not nearly as impersonal. But he doesn’t know you, and he doesn’t want you to know him. So this serves the purpose just fine.”

“Great, thanks.” She smiled at him sarcastically. She didn’t want to know this guy either. She wanted to get her son and her mom, and go home.

He squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Before she had the chance to agonize and ask how he could be so sure, three men entered the room. Dressed in matching black business suits, her anxiety wasn’t eased.

Doug dropped her hand quickly and rose. “Chief. Doug Jackson.”

The shortest of the three men shook his hand. “I’m Wilson. Good to meet you, Marshal.” He turned his attention to her, but didn’t offer a hand. “Ms. Stewart. This is SSA Gilford with the FBI and Len McGuire with the district attorney’s office.” The men sat across the table from them.

The FBI agent spoke first.
“Thanks for coming today, Ms. Stewart. First of all, let me assure you we’re doing everything we can to bring this situation to an end as rapidly as possible.”

Putting her nerves aside, she found her voice. “
It’s Scott. And I hope so. Do you have any idea where my son and mother are?”

He
hesitated, then nodded. “As a matter of fact, we’re confident we know where they’re being held. Our sources on the inside tell me both of them are fine, and haven’t been harmed in any way.”

“Sources on the inside?” Doug’s disbelief was palpable. “Are you kidding me?”

She placed a palm on the table top. “If you know where they are, why can’t you go in and get them out?”

“It’s not that simple,” the agent
advised. “Believe me, we have a handle on this, and we know what we’re doing. Right now, there’s something we need
you
to do.”

“Anything. Name it.”

Len McGuire leaned back and flexed his fingers together. “Ms. Stewart, this situation changed considerably when we discovered your ex-husband skimmed a great deal of money from Valcor Corporation. We’d been proceeding under the assumption that Larry was a pawn in Martin Newsome’s game. Now that we know that assumption was false, and we have to reevaluate every aspect of the case.”

She thought her head might burst trying to follow their cryptic language. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

He leaned forward. “I mean that Newsome may not have been calling the shots after all.”

“He was the CEO of Valcor. If not him, then who do you think was the mastermind behind all this?”

Gilford spoke again. “Probably Sal Russo, to some degree. He’s the one with ties to the Columbian drug cartel.”

They were just names being bandied about. She couldn’t have cared less.
Except for one thing.
“So who do you think has Ethan and Mom?”

The agent shook his head. “We’re not certain on that aspect.”

McGuire added, “
Who
is not the most important issue right now. We’ve got to get a handle on the chain of command before the trial begins on Monday. Once we do that, the rest should fall into place.”

“And we need to know where Larry hid the money,”
Gilford said. “He’s denied everything up to now.”

She bit her lip. “How are you going to get him to talk?
”

“That’s where you come into play. We want you to go
see him.”

Christine froze. “You want—me? Seriously? I haven’t seen Larry for nearly a year.”

Doug shifted in his seat. “That’s a horrible idea. She’s been through enough. Now you want to put her face to face with the man who involved her and the children in this mess?”

Gilford
gripped the table. “You’re the only person he might be truthful with. He talks about you in prison, about winning you back once he’s released.”

She frowned. “That’s
not
going to happen. Especially now, after what’s happened with Ethan and my mom.”