Twin Targets (10 page)

Phillips nodded. “Agent McGraw is right. Get her settled. We’ll go at all this with fresh minds tomorrow. There has to be a loose end somewhere. Mafia or not, nobody’s that good at keeping secrets. Somebody knows what’s going on, and why. We’ll get there.”

They would. Micah didn’t doubt that. He just prayed it wouldn’t be too late for Jade to get her life back again.

“You have to eat something.” Micah looked remarkably stubborn on the subject as they approached the door of the hotel room assigned to her.

“I’m too tired to eat.” It was an effort to keep putting one foot in front of the other. “I just want to get some sleep.”

If she could. If her slumber wasn’t haunted by visions of Ruby lying dead, or the frightened faces of the mothers and children at the library.

Or middle of the night fears for her future. What if the county library didn’t want her back after all this upheaval? What if the federal agents insisted that she, like Ruby, had to disappear into Witness Protection? What if they never came to a resolution, and she was left to spend her life wondering if she was safe?

She rubbed her forehead, trying to erase the thoughts, as Micah inserted the key card in the slot. Apparently she didn’t have to wait until 3:00 a.m. for her mind to climb onto that dreary treadmill.

Micah moved her gently to the side of the door and put down her cases. “Stay there until I’ve checked the room.”

“I thought this place was supposed to be safe.”

“Double-checking never hurts.” He stood to the side as he pushed the door open, and then he reached inside to flip the light switch.

She’d thought she couldn’t feel anything, but her stomach churned as he moved inside. If someone was there, if Micah was hurt because of her…

Nothing happened. He moved into the room, and she heard the muffled sounds he made as he checked closets, the bathroom, probably even under the bed. Finally he returned and guided her in.

To her surprise, it was more than just the standard room she’d expected. They’d gotten her a two-room suite, with a small living room that actually looked welcoming. The lights of the city shone beyond the large window until Micah pulled the drapes. Then he carried her suitcase through into the bedroom.

Glancing through the door after him, she looked longingly at the queen-size bed, but she couldn’t collapse yet. Not until Micah was gone.

“Thank you.” She managed a smile as he returned to the living room. “I’ll be fine now.”

He crossed to the desk, depositing her laptop there, and picked up the telephone. “I’m calling room service. What do you want?”

“Nothing. I told you…” She let that die off at the stubborn expression on his face. She sighed. “Fine. Soup, preferably chicken if they have it. An order of toast. A pot of decaf tea.”

His dark lashes swept down over what was probably a look of triumph in his eyes. He pushed a button and relayed her requests to room service. Hanging up, he turned back to her.

“I don’t want to sound like a worried mother, but promise me you’ll try to eat something.”

“I don’t recall my mother ever worrying about what I ate, but I appreciate the thought. I’ll try. Really. You ought to get some rest yourself. This day feels as if it’s been a hundred hours long already.”

“Just a few precautions I need to share with you first.”

“Don’t open the door without knowing who’s on the other side? I have stayed in hotels before.” She’d sit down on the floral-patterned sofa, but if she did, she might never get up.

The corners of his firm mouth lifted. “It’s always a good rule. Look, this place is as safe as it’s possible to be without putting a twenty-four-hour guard on you. No one followed us here, I promise.”

“I trust you, Micah.” The words surprised her. She didn’t trust easily, and she hadn’t even known she was thinking that.

He looked almost shaken at that. “I’m glad. It wouldn’t be surprising if you blamed us for the chaos we’ve brought into your life.”

“Maybe I have been. Blaming you, that is. Things certainly haven’t been the same since the morning you knocked on my door.” Her voice quavered a little as she remembered the news he’d brought.

“I’m sorry.” He took a step closer, touching her arm gently. “I know how hard this has been on you. I wish we had some answers to give you, instead of just endless questions.”

“Your brother is very good at that. I couldn’t tell whether he believed a word I was saying.” She should resent that feeling, but it was all a part of this bizarre world in which she found herself.

“That’s the FBI training. He affects me that way, too. I’m never sure what he’s thinking.”

She blinked at that. “But he’s your brother.” She’d always been almost too aware of Ruby’s thoughts. Sometimes she’d wished she could shut off that understanding.

“It’s the age difference.”

“Still, you rely on him.” Maybe she was really asking if Jackson could be trusted with her safety. Her future. His hand moved reassuringly on her arm, warming her skin even through the knit of her sweater. “I know he’s a person of great integrity, just like our dad was. I only hope I can live up to that.”

The hint of self-doubt touched her heart. “I don’t think you need to wonder about that.” She looked up at him, seeing nothing but warmth and caring in the chocolate-brown depths of his eyes. “Even when you’ve been driving me crazy, I haven’t questioned your honesty or your devotion to doing your best.”

His eyes seemed to darken. “Thank you.” His deep voice grew husky. “That means a lot to me. I…”

The sentence faded away as his gaze explored her face. Her breath caught in her throat. It was as if he looked into her heart and saw all the safeguards she put upon it. They seemed to crumble at his touch.

“Jade,” he whispered her name, and the air seemed to reverberate with the sound. “I shouldn’t…”

His lips found hers, tentatively at first, and then surer, claiming her as if this had been destined to happen from the moment they met. She put her hands on his arms, thinking she should push him away. Instead she drew him closer, reveling in the gentleness of his kiss, the strong protection of his touch.

Micah had stood by her during the worst moments of her life. He knew all the bad things and cared anyway. He’d saved her life more than once. She didn’t have to guard herself with him.

He drew back at last, letting his fingers trail down her face as if reluctant for the moment to end. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve just broken all the rules. If my brother knew…”

“I won’t tell.” Her voice sounded ridiculously husky.

“I should go.” He let go of her suddenly, and she felt cold where his hands had been. “You understand, don’t you? Until this is over, I can’t treat you as anything other than a witness.”

“I understand.” She tried to put assurance into the words. “It’s all right.”

He seemed to take comfort from that. “I’ll call you in the morning.” He crossed quickly to the door. Paused.

“Put the dead bolt and the chain on. I won’t leave until I hear you do that.”

The door swung shut behind him. She snapped the dead bolt, flipped the chain into place and laid her hand on the door, imagining him on the other side of it. She didn’t move until she heard his footsteps receding down the hall.

She was falling for him. She shouldn’t. There was no future in it that she could even imagine, but that didn’t seem to matter.

TEN

Every force that drove Micah was centered on Jade—protecting her, comforting her, caring for her. That’s what he should be doing. Instead he was driving a couple of hours away from her to meet with another woman. Not just another woman. Another witness. Jackson and Phillips had agreed that someone should meet personally with Olivia Jensen to alert her to the need for increased security. Since he’s already been briefed on the woman because she might be connected to Ruby’s case, they’d decided he should go.

Maybe they thought he was getting too close to Jade. If they thought that, they’d be right.

He’d taken a giant step over the line last night. He ought to be beating himself up with regret over it. But he wasn’t. Usually his instincts and his training worked in tandem. Not this time.

He was nearing the small town café where the meet had been arranged. For the past fifty miles he’d been tempted to pick up the cell phone and call Jade, just for the pleasure of hearing her voice. If he was going to call her before this meeting, it had to be now. He glanced at his watch. Too early. As exhausted as she’d been, he hoped she’d taken advantage of the chance to sleep in. He’d wait, no matter how much he wanted to hear her voice.

He parked a half block down from the café, sitting in the car for a few minutes. No one had followed him—he was sure of that. And nothing looked out of place on the quiet block.

He got out, zipping his jacket. Nobody sauntered down the street on a day this cold. That would be suspicious in itself. Instead he strode quickly to the café. A bell tinkled when he opened the door. He stepped into a warm atmosphere scented with freshly brewed coffee and something that must be cinnamon rolls. The plump, gray-haired woman behind the counter waved. “Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

Obviously the morning rush was over. The only occupants were two elderly men sitting in the corner with coffee mugs in front of them, looking as if they’d been there for a decade or so.

And Olivia Jensen, sitting in a booth on the opposite side of the room. He walked over, arranging his face in a friendly smile. As far as anyone else was concerned, they were acquaintances, meeting for a casual cup of coffee.

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” He said it loud enough to be overheard as he slid into the booth opposite her. “Ms. Jarrod, I’m Deputy Marshal Micah McGraw.” He lowered his voice on the introduction and showed her his ID, cupping his hand around it in case the elderly residents were more interested than they appeared. She stared at him, looking anything but relaxed and casual, her wide blue eyes strained and worried. “What’s wrong?” The words were a tense whisper. “The message I got just said to meet you here. Why didn’t they tell me what’s wrong?”

Sometimes secrecy could be carried too far. Whoever had relayed the message could have spared a sentence or two of reassurance to the woman.

He smiled, patting her hands, clenched tightly together on the red-and-white-checked tablecloth. “We’re two old friends, getting together for coffee, remember? There’s nothing wrong.”

That wasn’t quite the truth, but they didn’t know that the problem was related to Olivia, and there was no sense in alarming her if he could help it.

She managed a smile, some of the tension fading from her face. Some, not all.

Before he could say more, the woman who seemed to be waitress, cook and probably dishwasher, too, hustled over to their table, pulling a pad from her apron pocket.

“Cold enough out there for you folks?”

“Hey, it’s a balmy twenty degrees out there,” Micah replied. “Practically a heat wave for January.”

She chuckled. “You got that right. What can I get you?”

He glanced across the table. “What will you have?”

“Just decaf tea and toast for me, please. Whole wheat, if you have it.”

Her pallor reminded him of Jade, and the order for tea and toast did, too. Was that a universal female remedy for stress?

“You got it. And you?” She waited, pen poised over the pad.

“Coffee,” he said promptly. “Are those cinnamon rolls I smell?”

“You bet. I just took a pan out of the oven.”

“One of those, then.”

She bustled away again, swinging by the other table to refill cups and exchange a little friendly banter.

“I’m sorry.” Olivia’s smile turned more genuine. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this.”

“No worries,” he said easily, although truth be told, he had plenty. “How are you getting along? Blending in all right? Getting used to the weather?”

“I suppose so. It’s not really that much worse than a Chicago winter.”

Remembering the wind off the lake, he nodded.

“Nothing’s happened recently that’s made you uneasy or alarmed you?”

“No.” Now she did look alarmed. “Why? There is something wrong, isn’t there? Just tell me.”

Like Jade, she didn’t want beating around the bush when it came to bad news. He was the one who recoiled from blurting it out.

“As far as we can tell, it’s nothing to do with you, but there has been an increase in Mob activity in the state. Again, there’s no indication it’s aimed at you. Just the opposite, in fact.”

Jackson had been very clear about what and what not, to tell the woman.

“What kind of Mob presence?” She was keeping her anxiety under control, though it couldn’t be easy.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss the specifics with you.” He really was sorry, but she probably didn’t believe that. Her jaw tightened, and she crossed her arms, as if to shield herself. “Are you moving me to a new location?

Is that it?”

“There doesn’t seem any reason to do that. The FBI is contacting the county sheriff’s office and asking for increased surveillance. They’ll be on the alert, and you can call them at any time, day or night. Otherwise, you shouldn’t notice any disruption in your normal life.”

Her mouth twisted, as if in pain. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” His voice roughened. He thought of Jade and the losses she’d endured, of Ruby, dying too young. “You’ve paid a high price for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I wish I could say it was going to get easier, but I don’t know that.”

She sucked in a breath, as if to steady herself. “Thank you.” There was a reflection of tears in the blue eyes.

“You’re the first law enforcement person who’s really seemed to understand what this is like.”

He didn’t know what to say. If he understood, it was because of his relationship with Jade—a relationship that shouldn’t exist.

The waitress arrived then with their order, and they talked about the weather until she’d gone. Micah looked at the plate-sized cinnamon roll she’d put in front of him. “Sure you won’t have some of this?

It’s a lot bigger than I anticipated.”

“No, thanks.” She nibbled at the edge of a piece of toast. “You people will let me know if there’s any new information, won’t you?”

There was an edge to her voice that troubled him. Was she having second thoughts about cooperating? Or was something else wrong?

“We will, of course. I’m sure it seems as if we’ve forgotten you, but someone is constantly working the case.”

She nodded in acceptance, but her gaze was distant. Distracted.

“Is something else worrying you, Olivia?” He leaned forward, intent on her face. “If so, I hope you’ll tell me. If I can help—”

“You can’t help with this.” The words came out with a passion that startled him. She put one hand on her midsection in a protective gesture that spoke volumes. “I’ve just recently realized that I’m pregnant.”

“I see.” He took his time reacting, trying to gauge her feelings. “Is there anything you need? Have you found a doctor?”

“That side of it is all right. I just…” She shook her head in a pained movement. “This makes me feel so much more vulnerable. I have another life to protect now.”

“I see that.” He put his hand over hers in a gesture of support. “It means we have another life to protect, too. We’ll take that seriously, I promise.”

“Thank you.” The tension in her face eased. “I’m glad I told you.”

He was, too, but it sent his thoughts back to the story Jackson had told of the young woman who’d given up her baby rather than risk its life.

That old case, brought back to life when Kristin Perry walked into his office, couldn’t have anything to do with Olivia.

He just prayed the same devastation didn’t await her. Jade hadn’t been in the hotel for even twenty-four hours, and already she felt as if she were ready to crawl out of her skin from the inactivity. How did anyone live in such limbo, unable to make plans, unable even to have routine human contact?

How had Ruby done it? She’d never really appreciated what Ruby had gone through during that time of waiting to testify, waiting to be resettled. Ruby had been far more impatient than she was, far more used to excitement in her life. How had she managed?

Maybe, for Ruby, it had been a respite. Her life, always on the edge, had tumbled over into danger. Maybe she’d welcomed the enforced idleness. Certainly, from what Micah had said, Ruby had found peace in her new life, even if it hadn’t been the life of her choosing. She paced across the small living room, stopping to stare at the phone. Micah hadn’t called yet. She’d expected to hear from him. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling the heat in them. That was a cliché, wasn’t it? Waiting for a man to call again after that first kiss?

She hadn’t expected it. At least, she didn’t think she had. And yet, when it happened, it was as if every moment since she’d met him had arrowed straight toward that one.

She touched her lips lightly, imagining she could still feel his kiss. It was crazy, in the midst of all this turmoil, to be acting like a teenager with a crush. She could call him. She reached toward the phone, imagining his voice warm in her ear. He’d given her his cell number and said to call if anything worried her. Probably that anything hadn’t been meant to include her schoolgirl reactions to his embrace or her need to hear his voice. The feelings were too new, too untested. And far too much weighed in the balance against them.

She’d turn the television on and get caught up on what was happening in the world. There’d be plenty of crises in the world that made hers seem very small. Ten minutes later the phone rang. She sprang at it, snatching it up.

“Hello?” Her voice was ridiculously breathless.

“Is everything all right with you? Any problems there?”

Micah’s voice, just as warm as she’d hoped, sounded in her ear.

“No problems at all, unless you count boredom.” She sank into the desk chair, cradling the receiver with both hands. “If I ever wanted to be less busy, I’ve changed my mind.”

“Sorry about that. I’m afraid it can’t be helped at the moment.” A bout of static interrupted his voice. He must be on his cell.

“Where are you?”

Why aren’t you here?
That was what she wanted to say, but she stifled the words.

“I can’t tell you that.” He sounded distant, as if she’d broken some unwritten rule by asking the question. “Sorry.”

“I see. I mean, I understand. Will I see you soon?” That was a reasonable question to ask, surely.

“I don’t know. I’m on my way to the office right now.”

Again that distant note, and now she knew what was happening. He was trying to reestablish the boundaries between them, boundaries they’d both crossed the previous night.

She understood. Really, she did. But somehow that didn’t prevent a ripple of anger from running through her.

“I’ll talk with you later, then.” She kept her voice level with an effort. “Goodbye.”

She didn’t wait to hear him say goodbye. It might sound too final. She hung up.

The room wasn’t really big enough to walk off her bad temper. Instead she opened her laptop and booted up. Micah had told her not to let anyone know where she was. He hadn’t said she couldn’t be in touch with people. She could at least check her e-mail.

A few minutes later she realized her mistake. She had e-mails, plenty of them. Friends, acquaintances, library board members, all wanting to know what had happened at the library yesterday, none of them accepting the official clampdown on information.
Who had that man been? Why had he come to the library after her? What was going on?

She couldn’t answer any of the questions. And if she didn’t have an explanation, people would imagine the worst. How long would her job last, given this blow? If she were on the library board, she wouldn’t want to employ someone whose presence brought danger into the children’s story time.

She sucked in a breath, thinking of the children’s faces during those terrible moments. Then she opened an e-mail to the library board.

Slowly, choosing every word with care, she began to write, skirting carefully around the full truth. Apparently someone believed she’d witnessed a crime, putting her in danger. The U.S. Marshal’s office had taken her to a safe place until they could arrest the criminal. She was sorry, and she hoped they could manage without her for a brief period of time.

She paused, fingers on the keys. Should she offer to resign? Maybe she could cling to a tiny fragment of hope for a little longer. Without adding anything else, she hit Send.

She shut the mail program and sat for a moment, head resting on her hands.
Please.
The word came from somewhere deep inside.
Please.
Slowly she opened the desk drawer, knowing what she’d find there, and pulled out the Gideon Bible. For a long moment she just held it in her hands, remembering. Sister Sally had given a Gideon Bible to each of them when they were in fourth grade. Hers lay in the drawer of the nightstand at home. What had happened to Ruby’s? Discarded long ago, or kept, so that Ruby had it to turn to when life had brought her back to God? The study Bible she’d brought from Ruby’s apartment had been relatively new, although well used, with notes written in the margins. The thought took her by the throat. She should have packed the books she’d brought from Ruby’s, instead of leaving them on the bedside table at home. She might have found comfort in them now.