Liam's Witness Protection (Man On A Mission 4) (6 page)

His eyes narrowed and his expression sharpened. “When Pennington’s conviction was overturned, I was forced to reveal Callahan was still alive and still able to testify to the prosecutors in the case, and I sent two men to retrieve him—Larry Brooks and Trace McKinnon.”

Cate’s eyes grew big. “I’ve met him... I’ve met Mr. McKinnon. He came to see me once with Alec.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d make the connection. McKinnon was clean, but Brooks was dirty. He was secretly a member of the New World Militia. He set a firebomb that almost killed Ryan Callahan—Reilly O’Neill—and the woman who is now Callahan’s wife. They escaped by the skin of their teeth. Then Callahan and another man laid a trap for Pennington—with my help. A trap Pennington walked right into,” he said with satisfaction.

He didn’t come right out and say it, but Cate guessed from his expression that whatever trap Pennington had walked into, he hadn’t walked out of...ever.

“Four years ago,” D’Arcy continued, “Pennington’s son, Michael Vishenko—née Pennington—tried to get revenge on the six men he held responsible for what he considered his father’s murder. Ryan Callahan was one of those men. I was another.”

“My sister was involved in that case,” Liam offered. “She almost died when she stepped in front of a bullet to protect someone else.”

“Special Agent Keira Jones was—and still is—one of the best agents I have,” D’Arcy agreed. “Although her last name is Walker now.” He pursed his lips, as if debating whether or not to reveal something, then said, “She was instrumental in locating you last year. She made the connection between a name she was asked to investigate by her former partner in the agency—McKinnon—and what seemed to be a totally unrelated case regarding someone the agency had been keeping tabs on for years, Aleksandrov Vishenko.”

D’Arcy smiled slightly. But it was the kind of smile, Cate realized, that boded ill for whoever was on the receiving end. Not her. Vishenko. D’Arcy went on to explain, “It was the contract he had out on you that tipped her off—a contract whose price was upped from a half million to a million dollars. With the agency’s blessing she helped her brother track you down. He never would have found you without her. Never would have rescued you in time.”

“Alec’s sister.” She glanced at Liam. “Your sister. Yes, I’ve met her, too. She was very kind to me.” So kind, she remembered now. And not at all judgmental. Just like Alec. Like Angelina.

“That pretty much brings you up-to-date,” D’Arcy said. “I’ve got deaths on my conscience, the Thurman family among them. But I’ve never lost a witness I was responsible for,” he told her. “I don’t want you to be the first.”

Cate glanced from him to Liam, then back again. “So what is this new plan?”

“Callahan,” D’Arcy said. “Nobody knows of his connection to the agency, which is more important than I can explain right now. And he has more lives than a cat. He should have been killed at least a half dozen times I know about—and probably a few I don’t—but somehow he’s cheated death time and again. That’s why I want to put you in his hands, Ms. Mateja—Cate. If anyone can figure out a way to keep you safe until the trial begins, it’s Ryan Callahan.”

A cold, sinking feeling washed through Cate. And she knew the face she turned to Liam was ashen, her eyes stricken, unable to hide how betrayed she felt—a betrayal she had no business feeling. She knew logically Liam didn’t owe her anything. He’d kept her safe thus far, but only to help his brother. To help salvage the case against Vishenko and the rest of the defendants. Not because he cared what happened to her—twenty-four hours ago he hadn’t even met her.

Twenty-four hours?
she asked herself, shocked at the answer. Dismayed. Because it seemed as if she’d always known him. Always trusted him to keep her safe.

The idea of losing Liam’s protection cut her to the bone, and for a fleeting moment she imagined if she looked down she’d see herself bleeding somewhere. Then she carefully wiped all expression from her face, pulling back within her internal borders. She was alone...as she’d always been nearly her entire adult life. As she always would be. No one but herself to count on. Liam wasn’t hers, not in any way. Not even in this.
And you’d better accept it,
she told herself harshly. Savagely.
You’re on your own. Again. Still.

* * *

If Cate had stabbed Liam she couldn’t have wounded him more than she had with that one stricken expression...followed by that deliberate blankness. As if she thought he was abandoning her. As if she expected it.

His anger built quickly. What had he done to give her that impression? What kind of a man did she think he was? Then he remembered Alec telling him Cate’s story had literally made him sick, that she’d been Vishenko’s prisoner for two years. Two hellish years. Helpless. At the mercy of a man like Vishenko, who had no mercy in him. Those scars on her wrists told their own story. She’d eventually escaped...on her own. No one had helped her back then. Or all the years since then, except for much of this past year. She’d been on her own and on the run for six years until Alec found her. So it shouldn’t come as a surprise to Liam she expected the worst from the men in her life. Except maybe Alec.

Still...it hurt. Just as it had hurt when she’d shied away from his innocent gesture yesterday. He wanted—perhaps unreasonably—for Cate to trust him, the same way she trusted Alec.
And where did that come from?
he asked himself. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the answer, but he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there. Couldn’t ignore how he felt.

“I’m not leaving you, Cate,” he explained, forcing himself to gentleness despite his anger and hurt. “Earlier this morning—before you woke up—D’Arcy was laying out his plan to stash you with Callahan. But that doesn’t mean I’m out of the picture. Not by a long shot.”

“I don’t understand.” She strove to shield her emotions from him—that was obvious—but Liam thought he saw something in her eyes. Those pale blue eyes looked almost gray—a trick of the light, he knew—and eventually she lost her internal struggle, her eyes beseeching him to explain.

His dreams of last night came unexpectedly to mind. Dreams of saving Cate, rescuing her from any and every danger that threatened. And all at once he knew it wasn’t just in his dreams he felt that way. He wanted to keep her safe.
Needed
to keep her safe. No matter what he had to do.

He’d already killed once for her—his protective instincts kicking in even before he knew her, because he couldn’t let anyone be murdered in front of his eyes, not if he could prevent it. But this wasn’t the same thing at all. Now he knew her. Now it was personal. Now he knew just how much she needed him, even though she thought she didn’t. Even though she didn’t believe she could count on his protection.

I’ll prove her wrong,
he vowed to himself.
She doesn’t know it yet, but she can trust me to keep her safe. Always.

Chapter 6

D
’Arcy broke the silence when he said abruptly, “Callahan lives in Black Rock, Wyoming—that little town in the middle of nowhere I was telling you about—with his wife and three children. He’s the sheriff there. But he’s also done some covert work for me—nothing you need to know about, but I’ll tell you this—I’d trust him with my life. I can’t make the decision for you, though. I can’t force you to go there. I can only offer you some options, and Callahan is one of them.”

Cate’s gaze shifted away from Liam’s face, blankness descending again. “What are the other options?”

D’Arcy’s expression betrayed he didn’t much care for the other options, but he said, “The US Marshals Service is one option, but it’s not a choice I’d make. Not after what happened yesterday. Don’t get me wrong. Those men who were guarding you—”

“How are they doing?” she asked quickly.

“They’re going to make it.”

“Thank God,” Liam interjected, meaning it sincerely. As a bodyguard himself in the DSS, he knew the often thankless job the marshals performed, keeping witnesses alive.

“Yes,” D’Arcy agreed. “Thank God. But just because those men guarding you did their jobs doesn’t mean the Russian Mafia hasn’t infiltrated the US Marshals Service. Or the FBI. Or the US Attorney’s Office. We don’t know who, and we don’t know how. But somehow Vishenko’s men were able to get to the other witness and kill her. They made it look like an auto accident, but we know it was murder. Despite being guarded by marshals, same as you,” he said grimly. “And someone orchestrated the attack on you yesterday morning—not hard to figure out where you were going to be,” he said. “But it had to be an inside job because someone smuggled guns into the courthouse.”

“Uzis,” Liam clarified. “I could tell by the sound, and Alec confirmed it yesterday. The serial numbers were filed off, but he said the FBI is hopeful they can raise them.” When Cate’s expression betrayed her ignorance of the importance of this, he explained, “Serial numbers that have been filed down to hinder investigation can sometimes be restored by applying an acid solution to the metal. Then they can be tracked—guns with serial numbers leave a paper trail. And no one is better than the FBI at following a paper trail.” He glanced at D’Arcy. “Sorry, I know your agency’s pretty damn good at that, too.”

“True.” One corner of D’Arcy’s mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile. “We think we’re better, but perhaps you’re right.” He turned back to Cate. “As I started to say, you could return to the US Marshals Service. They’d do their best to keep you alive until the trial, but...”

“What are my other options?”

“The agency could keep you. My agency. It’s not our federal mandate—keeping witnesses safe. Temporarily, yes. Yesterday. Today. Not a problem. But at some point I’d have to justify the expense.” He smiled wryly. “My agency’s not exempt from government bureaucracy, much as I’d like it to be. The taxpayers expect oversight, and the GAO—the Government Accountability Office—can get downright nasty about the damnedest things,” he said, trying to interject a little humor into the situation. “Those are just about your only options,” he concluded.

“What about Liam’s agency?” she asked, displaying her ignorance about this, too.

“I work for the Diplomatic Security Service,” Liam explained. “The DSS. Yeah, some of us are bodyguards, but as I told you before, we guard diplomats, not federal witnesses.” He caught D’Arcy’s eye. “I’m officially on vacation, as D’Arcy knows.” His gaze returned to Cate’s face, willing her to trust him. “Which means I’m on my own time. Which means I can choose to stay with you until my vacation runs out—and I do. I will. Even if I have to extend my vacation indefinitely. I have no intention of leaving you, Cate,” he said softly. “Not until I
know
you’re safe.”

She sat there for a minute without saying anything. Without moving a muscle. So still. So quiet, Liam realized. Just as she’d been yesterday. “I need to think about this,” she said finally.

“Don’t think too long,” D’Arcy told her. “If you want marshals protecting you, I’ve got to let the FBI know where you are. Arrange to have the marshals pick you up. If you choose Callahan, I’ve got to arrange to get you there safely.”

“Who knows where I am now?”

“Besides you? Five people, four of whom are in this house. The other is Cody Walker, Keira Walker’s husband. The head of the Denver branch of the agency. Not even Alec Jones and his wife know where you are right now—all they know is that you’re safe.” He smiled again, another smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Need to know, Cate,” he reminded her. “Liam says he explained that concept to you. It’s crucial you understand just how serious it is.”

An expression flickered over Cate’s face that Liam couldn’t decipher...until she said, “I survived on my own for six years, Mr. D’Arcy, with a price on my head. Vishenko’s men didn’t find me until he raised the price to a million dollars. I think I understand how serious ‘need to know’ is.”

* * *

Cate wandered into the backyard. The flower beds were past their prime this late in the summer, but still retained enough color to draw her attention. She found a small wooden bench under a silver maple tree, and seated herself on it to consider her limited choices.

She wished she could speak with her cousin, Angelina, and her cousin’s husband, Alec, but she knew what they would say. Nothing that had happened yesterday changed anything—she still needed to testify. And to do that, she needed to survive long enough to make it possible. This meant either returning to the custody of the marshals...or putting herself in the hands of a stranger in Wyoming.

On the one hand she knew nothing about Ryan Callahan. Just because Nick D’Arcy trusted him didn’t mean she would...or should. On the other hand, was it possible the US Marshals Service had somehow been infiltrated by Vishenko, as D’Arcy had suggested? Or by another branch of the
Bratva
?
She knew the various branches of the Russian Mafia traded favors with each other from time to time, so even if Vishenko himself didn’t have someone on the inside, that didn’t mean she hadn’t been set up by someone in the US Marshals Service. Or the FBI. Or the US Attorney’s Office.

She twisted her hands together in her lap, the thumb of her right hand absently brushing over the scar on her left wrist as she had a habit of doing when she was stressed.
Who to trust? Who to trust?

Liam found her there. She hadn’t heard him approach, but suddenly he was standing there in front of her. So reassuringly protective. So much like his brother Alec...and so different at the same time.

“Have you decided?” he asked.

Cate shook her head. “Not yet.” Her eyes met his. “If it was you...what would you do?”

He went down on his haunches, holding her gaze. He looked as if he’d like to take her hands in his, but refrained...because he knew she didn’t like to be touched. “I can’t tell you what to do,” he told her. “All I can tell you is three people I trust with my life trust Nick D’Arcy’s judgment—my sister, Keira, her husband, Cody, and Trace McKinnon. If it was my decision, I’d go with D’Arcy’s recommendation.”

“So you think I should go to this Ryan Callahan in Wyoming?”

His expression was solemn, earnest. “I don’t know him. I only know
of
him—from the same three people I trust with my life. But what I do know about him is reassuring. I think any other choice is a risk I wouldn’t take. Not if I were you.”

She decided in that instant. “Then I will go there.”

He stood up and automatically held his hand out to help her rise. The kind of gentlemanly gesture that came naturally to him, she could tell. Like yesterday, when he’d innocently tried to brush back her hair. Before she could stop herself, she placed her hand in his. Trusting Liam as she trusted his brother.

Even more than you trust Alec,
she told herself silently.
Be honest, at least.

And if she was honest—completely honest—she was also attracted to Liam...even more than she was attracted to Alec. For a long time after Alec had exploded into her life, she’d had something of a crush on him. Harmless, because not only did she know he was in love with Angelina, she didn’t want any kind of physical relationship with him...or any man. She just admired him tremendously. Tried to pattern herself after Alec’s moral strength and inner convictions, the same way she tried to pattern herself after her cousin.

But that’s not what she felt for Liam, and it disturbed her. Because what she felt
wasn’t
harmless. Or at least it wouldn’t be...if she was the kind of woman who could respond sexually to a man. If she could shed her past like a snake shedding its skin. If she didn’t cringe at a man’s touch.

Then she realized she was touching Liam...or he was touching her...and she wasn’t cringing. Wasn’t getting the choking, panicky feeling that usually overwhelmed her when a man got too close.

And why is that?
she marveled. Liking the sensation of Liam’s hand holding hers. No, more than liking it. Enjoying it. Responding to the firm, yet gentle way his hand enveloped hers as he pulled her to her feet. A tiny shiver of awareness—
good
awareness—coursed through her body. How she knew it was good she had no idea. But it was...and it confused her.

To cover her confusion, she asked, “How will I get to Wyoming?”

“I’ll take you there.”

“You knew I would say yes?”

He shook his head. “No, but D’Arcy is a man who plans ahead. Whichever choice you made, he had plans in place. He’d already asked me if I would take you to Wyoming, and he had a backup plan ready in case I said no. He also had a plan to get you back in the care of the marshals, if that’s the route you preferred. We’ll fly to Aurora, Colorado, in a military plane out of Pope Air Force Base—it’s not that far from here—then drive up to Black Rock.”

“Why a military plane?”

“First, D’Arcy wants you in safekeeping as quickly as possible, which means driving is out. If we flew commercial, there’d be pictures of you at the airport that would end up in a government database. D’Arcy told me that’s how Keira found you in the first place. She matched your picture when ICE—Immigration and Customs Enforcement—arrested you to the picture on your expired work visa with face recognition software. And the FBI has the same software.

“Second, in order to carry my gun on board the aircraft I’d have to declare it and prove I was authorized to do so. While the agency has the pull to arrange something like that for the false identity they’ll be giving me, using it at the airport would leave a record, which would mean there’d be pictures of me in that database as well that someone might access—not a risk D’Arcy wants to run. And third, arranging things so I can be armed at all times even when I fly would take time, time D’Arcy doesn’t want us to waste. He wants us to vanish. Now.”

Liam paused for a second to give Cate a chance to speak, but when she didn’t he continued. “The US Air Force plane we’ll be taking isn’t flying to Colorado just for us—we’re hitching a ride, as it were. But D’Arcy pulled some strings to get us seats on the first plane heading in our direction, which is scheduled to take off just after three this afternoon.

“When we get to Colorado, the agency will provide us with a completely untraceable vehicle—like the one they gave us yesterday. It’s roughly six hours from Aurora to Black Rock by car. I don’t know about you, but I’m still recovering from yesterday and last night, so I thought we’d check into a hotel tonight and start driving north first thing in the morning. We’ll have plastic—credit cards,” he explained at her confused expression. “But D’Arcy doesn’t want us to use them, even though they’ll be in our fake names. He doesn’t want us to leave
any
kind of a paper trail, if possible. We’ll have enough cash for the trip...unless something disastrous happens. The credit cards will just be backup in case of emergencies.”

“I see.” And she did. Wasn’t that what she’d always done since she’d escaped from Vishenko seven years ago? Disappear into thin air? Travel as secretly as she could, insisting on being paid in cash and paying cash for everything so as not to leave a record someone could trace?

“D’Arcy will be glad you took his recommendation.”

“Not his,” she said quickly. “Yours.”

Liam drew a sharp breath. “Does that mean you trust me...a little?” he asked in his deep voice. “That you know I won’t just abandon you, after all?” The expression on his face was a dead giveaway she’d hurt him earlier with her assumption that she was on her own...again.

“I’m sorry,” Cate said, contrition in her tone as they walked toward the back door. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst. I should have known you wouldn’t do that to me...any more than Alec would.”

Liam stiffened beside her. It was almost imperceptible, but Cate—who’d learned the hard way to read body language and react to it—could tell. And she wondered what she’d said that would have caused a negative response in Liam.
I apologized. I told him I was wrong for not trusting him. What is negative in that?

Then it came to her out of the blue as Liam opened the back door into the house and held it for her, and the realization startled her.
He didn’t like you mentioning Alec’s name. His own brother. His own brother whom he loves. He didn’t like it, and that means...

She told herself she was imagining things. But deep down she knew she wasn’t. Liam was attracted to her. No, it was beyond that. He was becoming territorial where she was concerned.

Vishenko had been territorial, keeping her for his exclusive use for two nightmare years. Putting her on display in his Long Island mansion for certain of his associates who came there to meet with him. Glorying in his power over her. Knowing she was frighteningly aware of the punishment he would inflict once they were alone if she repulsed him in front of his men. However she fought him in private, he didn’t care. In fact, he enjoyed it. But she was not to cause him to lose face.

Cate had learned that lesson the hard way. And to her shame, she’d eventually complied. Letting him control her with threats instead of beatings after the first few months when she’d literally been his prisoner. Letting him control her...in front of others. Conceding him the power he insisted on...in public.