Undercover (25 page)

Ariana fell into bed that night utterly drained and totally exhausted. And Marshall made a phone call to the White House after she fell asleep. He wanted to see the Armstrongs before he and Ariana left for Wyoming. It had been too long since he'd seen Brad and Amelia. Melissa was happy to hear from him when he called—she owed him a debt for life. And he said he wanted to see his namesake too. The president was in Tel Aviv on a state visit, but Melissa and the children were at home and invited him to come over after school on Thursday, and he agreed.

And taking four female agents with her, Ariana went shopping the next day, for everything she thought she'd need in Wyoming. Marshall did the same with one agent, on a smaller scale. He bought suitcases for both of them, and had to order more when he got back to the hotel. He hadn't expected the quantity of clothes Ariana had bought “just in case.” She looked faintly sheepish about it and he laughed. He had never lived with a woman other than Paloma, and life on Ariana's scale was entirely new to him.

The next day he invited her to visit the Armstrongs with him, and Ariana was touched and surprised by the invitation. She had met Phillip Armstrong and his wife before, and gone to the Inaugural Ball with her father, as his staunch supporter, and the president had come to her father's funeral, but she was surprised by the warm, affectionate relationship Marshall had with the first lady and the children. Amelia talked to Ariana about how he had saved her life, and told him everything she was doing, while Brad flew a new remote-controlled helicopter around the room and narrowly missed their heads. And they got to hold the baby, which touched them both. Marshall and Ariana spent a happy two hours with them, which was a blissful relief from the tension they'd been living under since her near kidnapping in Paris.

“I'm going away for a while,” Marshall said to the kids before he left them, and their mother raised an eyebrow, worried about him. The children had already asked if Ariana was his new girlfriend, and he said she wasn't and they were just friends. Amelia looked relieved, but she looked sad when he said he was going away.

“Under the covers again?” she asked with her big blue eyes that had won his heart the first time he saw her.

“Sort of.”

“I thought you couldn't do that anymore.”

“They're making an exception, but I won't get hurt. I'm going someplace very safe, right here in the United States. And as soon as I can, I'll come back to visit.” He didn't see why he couldn't visit the president with his new alias. And maybe it would all be over soon.

Melissa told him in an undervoice to take care of himself when he left, after he hugged the children, and she thanked Ariana warmly for the visit. Her secretary had reminded her who Ariana was and what had happened to her, and she wondered if Marshall was acting as security for her. Melissa thought she was a very nice young woman, and remembered meeting her before.

In the car, on the way back to the hotel, Ariana raved about the children. It touched her to see how sweet with them he was, and how much they obviously loved him. They were lodged deep in his heart forever, and she could see it. He seemed like he would have been a good father, if his life had worked out differently. It occurred to her that they had both lost babies with the people they had loved, in shocking circumstances that had traumatized them. Destiny had intervened.

And when they got back to the hotel, they found Stanley and Lili sound asleep together. She was tucked between his paws, burrowed against the bloodhound's huge chest, and Stanley had rested his huge nose on her, while she snored softly. It was nice having the dogs with them, and that they got along. Stanley looked as though he could have devoured Lili with one bite, but fortunately he had no desire to, and sometimes she hung off his long floppy ears, playing with him, and he put up with it, and then finally swatted her away and walked off to lie down somewhere.

The next day, after their visit to the White House, was the day of reckoning. Ariana emerged from her bedroom in the suite in blue jeans, a pink checkered shirt, and a pink sweater, with flat shoes and no makeup. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she looked about sixteen as she put Lili in her travel bag. Everything else was ready. They had been given all their identity cards the night before, and even cell phones and computers in their new names, and everything associated with their old names had been replaced. A federal judge had approved their new last names and all record of the changes had been sealed. It was all handled by the Justice Department through the OEO. And both their Paris landlords had been notified that they were giving up their apartments, with sixty days' notice.

Marshall had done it all before, but this time was a little different, and it was all new to Ariana. She was silent and subdued as they rode to the airport. They were being flown by private jet to Wyoming, and they had four CIA agents with them. Paperwork had been drawn up to make it look as though they'd bought the house for a modest amount of money, in case anyone checked. And Ariana sat staring out the window mutely on the flight. She had called Yael in Paris that morning to bring him up to date, and he told her to call if she needed him. It felt strange now going to a new place with Marshall, whom she barely knew.

The flight to Casper, Wyoming, took four hours, and Ariana didn't sleep, speak, or eat. She just sat there looking out the window and staring into space, and Marshall was worried. She had been traumatized before, and he didn't want this to bring back old memories for her. She looked haunted by the past. The OEO had reiterated its offer of counseling to help make the adjustment, and she had refused. She preferred to speak to Yael.

Having a new identity was familiar to Marshall, and in places a lot worse than this, so he wasn't upset, just slightly apprehensive about settling in, and adjusting to life with a woman he didn't really know. Ariana was giving up everything familiar to her yet again, and he wasn't sure what to say, so he left her to her own thoughts, and chatted with the agents. He had called Mac to say goodbye the night before, and hinted in veiled terms what was going to happen, but didn't tell him where.

“I figured they'd do something like that with her, and put her on ice for a while. It's the only thing they can do. Well, take care of yourself, lad. I hope it's a decent place. It can't be worse than the ones you've been before. Hell of a way to get a woman, though,” he teased him. “Make sure you have her clean the house. She's got a lot to learn on that score.”

“She'll probably have me cleaning it for her.” Both men laughed.

As the plane descended at the airport, Ariana noticed a few houses and some ranches, but mostly it looked like unpopulated land, and she felt as though they were landing on the moon.

“Are you okay?” Marshall asked her softly, and she looked at him and nodded. But she didn't seem convinced. It was suddenly all too real. She missed Paris, Buenos Aires, New York, and even Geoff MacDonald's cozy, disheveled kitchen in London. She wanted to be anywhere but where she was. And with tears silently rolling down her cheeks, she followed Marshall and the four agents off the plane.

It was a half-hour drive from the small airport to the ranch owned by the Witness Protection Program outside Casper—a van had been waiting to drive them with their dogs and luggage. The gate to the property was battered and needed painting. There was a rural mailbox, and they'd been told they had a P.O. box too, and they both knew that Casper College, where Marshall hoped to teach, was forty minutes away, a reasonable commute for him.

Once through the gate, they drove down the long driveway, past the foreman's house, and several small buildings and equipment sheds, and saw a large barn on the left, where Ariana wanted to house the horses she was planning to buy. And they saw the main house with a porch and a picket fence, surrounded by old trees. Casper Mountain was visible in the distance—it was warm, and there was a gentle breeze. One of the agents walked up the front steps with a set of keys and unlocked the door. And a pickup truck and a small sedan had been delivered and were parked outside. Marshall and Ariana exchanged a glance, and she looked apprehensive and followed the senior agent inside. There were no other houses around for miles. It was beautiful there, but it felt deserted to her. She had never lived in such a quiet, rural place. Everything was unfamiliar to her, and she missed the big cities that she knew. Even the convent hadn't been as quiet and isolated as this.

The agent turned the lights on, and the rest of the group walked inside and looked around. There was a living room, a dining room, a den with a fireplace, a big airy kitchen, and a wide staircase leading to four bedrooms upstairs. It was simply furnished in a sparse, impersonal way, like a motel, and there was nothing on the walls. There was nothing warm or cozy about it, and it instantly made her miss the charm of her apartment in Paris. Her father's old secretary Sheila was going to Paris to send all of Ariana's belongings back to her father's apartment in New York. Sheila essentially knew what Ariana was doing, but had no idea where they were sending her or under what name, and Ariana had been told she couldn't call her, in case her cell phone was traced. Any messages for Sheila would have to go through the WPP or the CIA. Sheila was desperately sorry for what was happening to her, and worried she'd never see her again. And as Ariana looked around the simple farmhouse, she gazed at Marshall with sad eyes.

“Welcome home,” he said softly, wishing the house were prettier than it was. It was very plain and would take some real effort to make it look inviting and warm.

The WPP advance team had left food in the refrigerator for them, just basics, milk, eggs, butter, bread, lettuce, yogurt, packaged ham and turkey, bananas, breakfast cereal, instant coffee, and sugar. Just enough to have something to eat when they first arrived and the next morning. There was a list of the local stores on the counter, which were all ten miles away. Ariana looked around the house with an expression of desolation, and half an hour later, the agents left, and she and Marshall were alone.

“We can warm it up with a little paint and some new things,” he said, trying to sound encouraging. He could see how unhappy she was. Luis Muñoz had stolen all semblance of a life from her, just as his brother had two years before.

She sat down at the kitchen table, and Marshall made them both coffee. He had hoped for her sake that the house would be nicer than this. The grounds were beautiful, and the area majestic, but it was a brutal change from Paris or New York. She was suffering from culture shock as she sipped the coffee from an ugly chipped cup. And then she looked up at him and smiled.

“I'd never survive this if you weren't here,” she said honestly. She didn't mind the lack of luxuries, but the isolation was terrifying and depressing. And the more she looked at the house, the uglier it seemed. It was hard to imagine living there for several years or indefinitely. It was so impersonal, and she felt like she was living someone else's life, not her own.

“Yes, you would survive,” he reminded her, “you've been through a lot worse.”

“Thank God, I bought decent clothes before I came here,” she said ironically, and he laughed while Stanley and Lili chased each other around outside, barking furiously. “The dogs like it.” It was the only hopeful sign so far, but Marshall knew it could have been worse. And she could have been kidnapped in Paris or dead by then.

“We'll get used to it,” he encouraged her, but the house seemed depressing to him too. Somehow a hut in the jungle didn't seem as dreary as the slightly forlorn house with nothing to warm it up, pretending to be a home. It didn't feel like one to either of them.

“How the hell did it come to this?” Ariana said softly. She stood up to examine what was in the cupboards. There were a lot of very ugly plates and a few mismatched glasses. There was cutlery for six, which looked like it had been in the garbage disposal in the sink many times. The forks and spoons were bent. “Okay, that's it,” she said, facing him. “That does it. I hate ugly china. We're going to town to buy new stuff.” She felt better as she said it, and he smiled. Living with a woman and the things women thought about was entirely new to him.

She ran upstairs to examine the sheets and towels and pronounced them ugly too. “Let's go shopping. There has to be a Target or IKEA here somewhere. Maybe we can find some furniture and even things for the walls.” It was what she had done at the embassy in Buenos Aires, although with beautiful antiques and Aubusson rugs, and on a much grander scale, with spectacular results. But she was determined to meet the challenge of the ugly house, which Marshall thought was a good sign.

They left the dogs in the house and got in the truck. They stopped at the foreman's house, and looked around, and it was just as uninviting as hers, although she liked his kitchen better, and there was a wonderful old carved wooden bed in the master bedroom that appeared to be handmade.

“You need some decorating here too,” she said as they got back in the truck, and headed to town. She put on some music and stared out the window with a sigh. Marshall felt sorry for her. She was trying hard to make the best of it, but it all seemed so unfair that they had to be there at all.

They drove through a small town on the way, where the grocery store was. There was also a Laundromat, a dry cleaner, a bookstore, a gas station, and a few other stores, but they didn't stop to check them out. And half an hour later they were in Casper, which was full of young people and life, with restaurants and bars and coffee shops, some art galleries, and an antique shop on Main Street, and Ariana cheered up. They stopped for something to eat and a cappuccino, and then Ariana went to work, trying to find things she could use for the house. She found two pretty tables and a desk at the antique store, a large painting at one gallery, and half a dozen good-looking framed photographs at the next one. Then they drove to Target, where she found sheets and towels for both of them in decent patterns and colors. She bought tables, chairs, knickknacks, and bright-colored implements and accessories for the kitchen. And a set of blue and white Italian ceramic plates, simple wine and water glasses in blue Murano glass, and simple stainless flatware with bone handles. None of it was fancy, but all of it was bright, pretty, and in good taste. Marshall was impressed, and even more so by the efficiency with which she gathered it all up. They loaded up the truck, and she asked to have the furniture delivered the next day. She had even bought some things for his house. It had all happened with lightning speed, and he was floored. She said that her mother had loved to decorate, and had taught her how. And Ariana put her new credit cards to good use.

“You're good at that,” he said admiringly. “It would have taken me a year to figure all that out, and what to buy for the house.”

“It's fun,” she said, and was happy for the first time since they'd arrived. “You should have seen what I did with the embassy in Buenos Aires. It was practically empty when we got there. It was beautiful when I finished setting it up. I left it all there, as my father's contribution to the embassy. I just hope we get out of here in less than a hundred years. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Casper,” she said with a tone of desperation, but she looked better than she had a few hours before.

“You won't be here for a long time,” he said, and sounded convinced.

“How do you know?” She wanted to believe him but didn't.

“Because the boys in the CIA are good at what they do. They'll find him. They're not as good as the DEA, of course,” he said, teasing, and she laughed. He had a knack for cheering her up and making the best of difficult situations. He had done it all his life. And he liked her, and wanted her to be happy, even if the situation wasn't ideal. And he admired that she was trying to be positive about it.

They stopped at the grocery store to buy food for dinner, and he bought a barbecue and put it in the back of the truck. He swore he was good at it, although he hadn't done it in years.

“That's lucky,” she said, grinning, “because if you're depending on me to feed us, we'll starve. I live on salads and takeout, and cheese in Paris.” This was definitely not Paris, and she had never really learned to cook.

“I'll make you a deal. I'll cook, you decorate.” She smiled as he said it. It was strange getting to know him here, like survivors on a desert island. And as night fell, she realized she was worried about being alone in the house. Over dinner, Marshall sensed she was nervous and said something about it. “I'll keep my cell phone on tonight. Call me if you have any problems.”

“Like what? If a wolf comes in and eats me and Lili alive?” She was kidding, but not completely. She had never lived anywhere this isolated before. She felt safer in the city, even with paid gunmen hunting her down.

“Would you feel better if I slept in one of the guest rooms?” he offered, and she looked sheepish, but nodded.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I'm scared here. It's hard to believe this is safer than a city with people around.”

“No one is going to kidnap or shoot you here, Ariana. They have no idea where you are.” Which was the whole point. She nodded but didn't like it anyway. Casper was beautiful but didn't look like fun to her. And he could tell she was a city girl. He was looking forward to fishing, and some hikes, neither of which appealed to her, although they'd been told there was good skiing in winter, which they both liked. And there was a theater, a symphony, and a museum, which Ariana had said she wanted to check out, and so did he.

He went back to the foreman's house after dinner, got his suitcase, and moved it to the main house. He took the bedroom farthest from her larger one so he didn't disturb her if he watched television at night, which he usually did. There was one in every bedroom, and a large flatscreen in the den. And a decent stereo system, and Marshall had promised to download some music for her.

Ariana went to her bedroom to unpack, while he sent e-mails from his computer in the kitchen after he came back. She heard him come upstairs later, and opened her door and thanked him for staying at the main house with her. She looked relaxed and was wearing a frilly white cotton nightgown with blue ribbons on it that she'd bought at Harrods and had worn at Mac's. And her long blond hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. She looked so young and pretty that it startled him for a moment. He was living in this house with her, and they had already come a long way together. It felt strange being there as friends, like being roommates, which was a far cry from his life in the jungle, or his solitary time since.

“Sleep tight,” she called out to him and closed her door.

He lay in bed for a long time that night, thinking about her, and when he fell asleep, he dreamed of Paloma. He could still feel her in his arms, as though she had never left them.

They explored the barn together the next morning, after he made breakfast. And she thought the barn was better looking than the houses. They went back to town and found a Best Buy to buy DVDs of movies, and CDs, and found they liked a lot of the same artists, although he liked Latin music too, after being in South America for so long. She said she had learned to tango in Argentina, and he smiled. They bought a few more things for the house, and the furniture was delivered, and she pushed it around, and he helped her. He was amazed at how much better it all looked with a few cushions, some candles, the new furniture, a large mirror for the hall, and the paintings and photographs she'd bought, which he helped her hang. She knew exactly where she wanted to put it all, and the house was instantly improved.

“Wow! Magic,” he said, impressed by the result. “Never mind raising horses, you should be a decorator. You're good at this stuff.” The place looked infinitely better after she was finished, and he made barbecued ribs and chicken and put some music on. It almost felt like home to both of them, though not quite. It was all still very new. She was easy company and grateful for his help.

They watched a movie on the flatscreen together, and she fell asleep, watching it, leaning on his good shoulder. He raised his arm and put it around her as he enjoyed the movie, and Stanley gave him a quizzical look, as though asking him what he thought he was doing.

“Mind your own business,” Marshall whispered, and kept his arm around Ariana while she slept. She woke up at the end of the movie, and he teased her about falling asleep. She was tired from everything they'd done that day, and it was still new and a little unnerving.

They spent the next few days cleaning all the houses together. Aside from the foreman's house, there was a tackhouse, and several buildings for equipment. And Marshall promised to hire a crew to help her clean out the barn. She wanted to go to some local horse auctions once she got the barn set up, and she was looking forward to the local rodeos, which Marshall thought sounded like fun too. It was something to do.