Pieces of the Past (Witness Security Book 1) (12 page)

No one argued with him.

Christine walked him down the hall. “First left at the top of the stairs is my old room and bathroom. You can shower there.”

He grabbed the small pack he
’d brought with him. “Thank you. Listen to me, Christi. I need fifteen minutes to pull myself together. Keep these people focused and on task. If I come down and discover someone is missing or argumentative, I’ll do what the Chicago Witsec director suggested and throw the whole lot of you in the slammer. I mean it. I’m too tired to jack around anymore.”

The expression on his face was so honest, so endearing, her heart flooded with emotion. If someone in the future asked when she knew she was in love with Doug, she
’d point to that very moment. Worn out, frustrated, and managing on his last nerve, he was still the most patient and likable man she’d ever known.
Not to mention the sexiest.

She grasped his shoulders and pulled his face close to hers.
“Take twenty,” she whispered in his ear. “No one’s going to jack you around, as fun as that sounds.”

He pulled back, surprised.
“Okay.”

Christine smiled.
“I’ve got your back. There won’t be any problems down here.”

“
Thank you. I appreciate that.” He headed up the stairs.

“
I appreciate
you
. I haven’t told you that lately, but I do.” She beamed up at him.

Another startled expression, but this time he looked as if he might cry. He hurried into her room, closing the door loudly.

Christine smiled.

When he returned, he looked fresher if not any better rested.

“
All’s quiet down here. Ryan’s ready to go, albeit a bit confused.”

“
That’s probably putting it mildly.” He set his bag down by the door and motioned to the teenaged boy huddled with Peyton in the front room. “Ryan, over here for a minute, please?”

The boy did as directed. Christine stood back and listened to Doug speaking.

“How much did Peyton tell you about this whole deal, and why she needed to come here?”

He shook his head.
“Hardly anything. She said she had a fight with her mom, and wanted to go to her grandparents. That was it.”

Doug studied him skeptically.
“So for that you skipped school and football practice, risking the wrath of your parents, coach, and teachers, and drove ten hours overnight? Sounds like a pretty big leap of faith, kid. You sure that’s all she told you?”

“
I swear it.” His eyes were wide.

Christine believed him. She was pleased that her daughter hadn
’t spilled the Witsec beans.

“
Okay, well listen up. Except for your parents, nobody needs to know where you were today. No mention of Chicago from your lips. I catch wind that you murmured ‘Sears Tower’ to your best friend, we’ll be having this discussion again, in less friendly surroundings.”

“
My lips are sealed,” he murmured in a breathy voice.

Doug glanced at Christine then back at Ryan.
“Had we known that last night, the girl’s mother might have rested easier. Go get your stuff. The police are here to take you and your car to meet up with your folks.”

Ryan hurried off.

Christine moved closer to Doug. “It’s not called the Sears Tower anymore. It’s the Willis Tower.”

“
What’chu talkin’ about, Willis?” Doug deadpanned.

“
Good grief.” She swatted his shoulder.

He grinned.
“Did you like that comeback to the ‘my lips are sealed’ line? See, I think I could make a good father. One of them shotgun toting ‘I’ll just be sitting here cleaning this gun’ type of dads.”

“
What every girl longs for.”

“
Yeah, well, sometimes there’s a difference between what a girl wants, and what a girl needs.”

She smiled at that.
“Don’t I know it? So, I’ll grab Dad’s keys. You want to move his Mercedes out of the driveway while the police get Ryan’s car from the garage?”

“
Yep.”

They made the vehicle switch and Doug parked the Mercedes in the garage. The police left with Ryan, while Peyton sobbed in her mother
’s arms.

“
I’ll never see him again!”

“
You don’t know that.” Christine smoothed her daughter’s hair. “None of us knows what’s going to happen next. I do know that you need to start taking this seriously, and listen to what Doug says. I mean it, Peyton. A lot of this could have been avoided if you would have been honest to begin with. The sneaking around and running off has got to stop.” The urge to shake her daughter was still there, fighting with the desire to protect her. The situation wasn’t easy for any of them, but it was time Peyton grew up and saw things for what they really were.

Peyton nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Christine sighed. “We’ll get through this one day at a time.”

“
I can sing you that TV theme song if you want to hear it.” Doug remarked as he passed by.

“
Maybe later.” Christine smirked. “Are we ready to go?”

He glanced out the window.
“I think so. Give me just a minute.” He went outside and when he returned, a dark-haired man in a suit was with him. “The marshal service sent over a car to help transport everyone. Stan and Lillian, you’ll be riding with Marshal Rivers. The rest of you will be with me. We’ll follow them to the house.”

“
You’re the boss,” Lillian said as she picked up her bags.

He smiled at Christine.
“I knew I’d like your mother.”

Chapter Seven

Metropolitan Correctional Center

General Population

Chicago, Illinois

“The trial starts next week? Bet that’s a relief.” Raymond lay on his bunk and stared at the ceiling.

“That’s for sure. I can’t wait to get it over with.”

“You really think they’re going to spring you?”

“I do. It was all a big misunderstanding. I didn’t know what was going on. I’ve been praying about it every day. I’m confident that once I tell my side of the story, the truth will set me free.”

Raymond chuckled, his white teeth glowing against his dark skin. “You sound like Dr. Martin Luther King. Free at last! Free at last!” He chuckled, then grew serious. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen, Scrubby, but I’ll miss ya if you go. You’re one of the worst card players in here, but you sure get the sheets nice and white.”

He smiled. He wasn’t that fond of the nickname, but other inmates had worse ones and he’d decided early on he could live with ‘
Scrubby’. Laundry duty wasn’t that bad either, though his hands were becoming calloused from pulling hot sheets from the super-heated commercial dryers.

He examined his fingernails, remembering how he used to have regular manicures. When he got out, he’d be ashamed to go back to the same woman with his skin as rough and patchy as it now was.
Oh well
. Manicures didn’t seem as important as they once had. Prison helped a person redefine his priorities.

His wife and children were important to him now. He wasn’t deceiving himself, knowing full well it would be a struggle to make his wife forgive him. She’d been angry, but she hadn’t really understood. If she would just show up at the trial, it’d all make sense to her. And perhaps, finally, they could be together again.

He longed for that day. It seemed like forever since he’d held her in his arms.

That was about to change. He felt sure of it, down deep in his gut.

* * * *

Chicago, Illinois

Doug parked in the garage of the newest safe house, which was actually a classy-looking condo in an upscale neighborhood. “Here we go again, folks. Grab your bags.”

Ethan leaned forward. “You’re not our bellhop?”

Doug grinned and bopped him on the head gently.

Christine got out and glanced around. “This place looks like it might come with its own bellhops.”

Peyton reached in the back for her things. “Tons better than that last place. Chicago is nicer all around.”

He
glanced at her as he reached for his bag. “Yeah, well, it’s also five hundred miles closer to the bad guys, so don’t get too comfy. We might not be here long.”

She shot him an irritated look and moved
next to her mother.

Christine didn’t comment, just grabbed her things and waited for him to lead the way.

He entered through the side door and glanced around. The living room was cool and bright with white carpet and furniture. The condo smelled like fresh paint. “Not bad,” he murmured.

“It’s nice,” Christine agreed from behind him. “The place feels
light and open, which is odd considering the shades are drawn and probably have to stay that way.”

“It’s the white,” her mother offered, stepping in after them. “White walls, white furnishings—makes the place feel airy. But it could use a splash of color here and there.”

Doug motioned everybody in. “Yeah, well, we’re not moving in, just hanging out for a while. We should be thankful the place is as nice as it is.”

Marshal
Rivers joined them. “I did a perimeter check and everything is secure. There are three bedrooms, I suggest the grandparents take one, mom and daughter take another, and the son gets the last room.” To Doug he said, “I’ve been instructed to remain here on security patrol. We can spell each other and bunk on the sofa.”

“Really?” He was surprised. He’d make a call and check the situation out for himself.

He turned to Christine. “Take everyone back and get settled. Remember—”

Christine, Peyton and Ethan interrupted in unison, “Don’t unpack.” She added, “This isn’t the Holiday Inn.” Her eyes twinkled as she motioned for her family to follow her down the hall.

He smiled, and turned back to Rivers. “I wasn’t aware there’s been a change in plans. I need to run it by my supervisor.”

“Sure.”
Rivers shrugged. “I was told things are heating up with the trial starting soon. I guess they figured five people were more than one man should have to handle.”

“I guess.” Doug
pulled out his cell and stepped into the garage to place his call. When he’d spoken with his boss and then the chief of Chicago’s Witsec office, he was both relieved to have some help and apprehensive about the increased gravity of their situation. He needed to fill Christine in, but the first thing he needed was a nap. Approaching thirty hours with no sleep, he’d hit the wall and had to close his eyes before he dropped.

“Sounds like we’re a go,” he told
Rivers upon his return. “It’s nearly lunchtime, we should check and see what there is so everyone can eat. Then I need to grab few winks. I drove all night and it’s catching up to me.”

“There should be food in the kitchen. Fixing it is up to the family. I’m here to protect, not cook.” He moved from one window to the next,
glancing out behind the shades. “Go ahead and get some sleep. That’ll put us on an alternating schedule for tonight. I’ll take the first shift.”

“Okay.” He watched the tall, dark haired man for a moment
. Not very friendly
. Probably because he didn’t know them at all. Doug recalled in the past, when he and Jordan had guarded people round the clock, they’d taken it seriously but had a little fun, too. Both of them liked to cook, and had done so many times. These days, Doug prepared meals for Christine’s family because he wanted to.

He found her sitting with her parents on one of the beds. “Marshal
Rivers is staying with us. We’ll be taking shifts on lookout. I have got to close my eyes for a few minutes before I drop. You can rummage around the kitchen for lunch, he says there’s food but I haven’t checked myself.”

“We’ll manage. Would you like something before you lie down?” Her concern for his well-being seemed genuine.

He smiled. “No thanks. I’m going to talk Ethan into letting me crash in his room for a couple of hours.”

She nodded. “Get some rest. We’ll see you later.”

To Peyton and the grandparents he said, “Behave yourselves.”
Only half-joking.

“We will,” Stan assured him.

Doug found Ethan playing his handheld video game. “Hey buddy, I need to catch a nap. Mind I used a corner of your bed?”

“Sure, go ahead. You can have the whole thing. I’m not taking a nap.” He rolled his eyes and gathered his things to leave the room. “Want me to close the door?”

Doug dropped onto the bed, not bothering to pull back the covers. “Thanks, bud.”

“You’re welcome.” Ethan smiled and
pulled it shut.

He
closed his eyes, and before he could call up a pleasant image of Christine to fall asleep to, he was out.

Doug opened his eyes, and for a moment he couldn’t remember where he was.
Christine’s house?
He’d been dreaming about the gorgeous brunette, but something wasn’t right.

Chicago.
He groaned. As much as he desired to be close to her, this was the last place he wanted to be. Rubbing his eyes, he stretched and stood. It was dark outside.
How long did I sleep?
A quick glance at his watch confirmed it was nearly seven p.m.
A decent rest
. He felt better.

He used the
bathroom then scrubbed his face, and sauntered into the front room.

Peyton and her grandfather were engaged in a lively game of cards. Christine watched, joining in their banter.

Doug looked around, then poked his head into the kitchen. The room was empty. “Where’s everyone else?”

Christine glanced up at him. “Hi. Did you get some sleep?”

“Yeah. Where’s Rivers? And your mom, and Ethan?”

She stood and moved in front of him. “Mom forgot her asthma medicine. The marshal offered to run her home to get it. Ethan asked to go along—”

“Begged, really,” Stan added, tossing a card down.

Doug’s blood ran cold.
“He offered to take her back to get it?
That’s not how these things work. Once we’re here, we stay put. If we need something, another marshal is dispatched to bring it to us.”

Her father looked up. “Rivers suggested driving Lil home.”

Peyton added, “He also mentioned E going along, didn’t he, Grandpa?”

“Yes, I think he did.”

Christine’s eyes widened. “What’s going on, Doug? Why would he do that?”

I have no idea.
Heart racing, he pulled his phone from his pocket and determined who to call. “What time did they leave?”

“About an hour ago.” She bit her lip.

He frowned. Chicago Witsec would have more knowledge of Rivers, but given the circumstances, he wasn’t sure whom he could rely on in their department. Instead, he dialed someone he knew and trusted, his chief. After explaining the situation, he agreed to sit tight and ended the call.

“What’s happening?” Christine
’s voice was shrill. “Where are they?”

“We don’t know yet. My boss is going to find out. I don’t have Rivers’ cell number, so we can’t do much from our end.”

“They’ll be back any minute, won’t they?” Stan tried to sound positive, but his voice faltered at the end of the sentence.

Doug
chose his words carefully. “I hope so, but what Rivers did goes against standard protocol. It’s not normal. I don’t like it.”

Christine grew frantic. “I don’t understand
! Are you telling me mom and Ethan are in danger?”

“I’m not telling you anything
, yet. You’ll know as soon as I hear.” He’d give anything for magic words of comfort, but there wasn’t much he could say. “Did you guys eat dinner?”

“
We had chicken nuggets. The rest are in the fridge.” She went into the kitchen before him. “I can warm them up for you.” She prepared a plate, then paced and fidgeted until the microwave dinged. Hands shaking, she handed him the food.

“Thanks.” He
tried to catch her eye but she seemed to be avoiding direct contact. Sighing, he grabbed a soda and was halfway through the makeshift meal when his cell rang.

Christine
gripped the table, her knuckles turning white.

He recognized the number of his coworker Ben Markham.
“Hey, Ben.”

“Doug,
the chief is on the line with Chicago Witsec as we speak, but you’ve got a problem, man. Something’s up with this Rivers guy.”

Spotting
Stan and Peyton watching from the doorway, he tried to keep his voice calm and expression neutral. “What else can you tell me?”

“Nothing definite, but it doesn’t look good. The boss said to hang
on and he’d be in touch soon.”

“Okay, thanks.” He pocketed the phone and shook his head. “We don’t know anything yet.”

Christine’s voice cracked. “You know something. You’re just not telling us. What do you think happened, Doug?”

Stan added, “This marshal, he wasn’t the real deal?”

Doug sighed. “I can’t say for sure. My office is checking into it.”

“You left him with us!” Christine exploded, tears flood
ing her cheeks. “You went to sleep and we thought that meant we could trust him. Ethan talked to him.
Ethan went with him
!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t take the guy for face value, I called Chicago W
itsec and they vouched for him, so he had to be a real marshal. Something’s obviously gone wrong, Christi. I can’t explain it, but I’m so sorry.”

She pounded her fists on Doug’s chest. “Where’s Ethan? Where’s my son, and my mom? You have to find them!”

He grabbed her balled up hands. Before Doug could speak, Stan reached for his daughter and drew her into his arms. “Don’t jump to conclusions until we know more, sweetie. They might be at the house. Give the marshals time to figure it out.” He smoothed her hair.

Doug looked away.
He calls her ‘sweetie’, just like Christi calls Ethan.

Ethan.
His heart lurched. If the boy was in danger, he could never forgive himself.

Peyton moved closer to her grandfather. “Do you think so, Grandpa? Do you think Ethan and Grandma are okay?”

“We have to believe that.” He pulled her into the hug.

Without speaking, Doug rinsed off his plate and stuck it in the dishwasher. His phone rang again and he jumped. He
glanced at the number before he answered. “Yeah, boss.”