Christmas Witness Conspiracy

by Maggie K. Black

  But, maybe not?

  He glanced back. The cop had gotten out of his vehicle and was walking toward them. There was no time to argue. No time to find another plan.

  Liam looked at her. “Goodbye, sweethea—” he began, but his voice caught on the last syllable like he’d just realized what he’d said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she said. “You can call me that whenever you want.”

  And then, she kissed him.

  * * *

  It wasn’t the first time someone had unexpectedly tried to kiss Liam Bearsmith. When he’d told Kelly the day before she’d been the only woman he’d ever kissed, that had been completely and entirely true. He hadn’t so much as held another woman in his arms or even held her hand. But during his myriad undercover assignments, pretending to be a bodyguard or thug, people he was either targeting or rescuing had occasionally tried and failed to embrace him, which had always been awkward and uncomfortable, and not the slightest bit pleasant or welcomed. But this was definitely the one and only time, in over twenty years, that he’d ever kissed a woman back.

  Time froze. Logically, he knew the fleeting kiss must’ve only lasted seconds. But there was something almost indescribable about feeling Kelly’s lips brush his. It was warm and comforting. It was like coming home to a place he’d missed, or finding something he’d lost far too long ago.

  No, it was like he was the one who was being found, when he hadn’t even known he’d been lost.

  They broke the kiss, he got out of the car and started toward the cop now walking toward him and for the first time in a long time, Liam felt an unfamiliar feeling grinding inside him. Doubt. Something about this whole plan he’d just concocted felt wrong. Really wrong. Yes, Seth had warned him off contacting anyone in law enforcement. But considering Liam’s complete and total lack of a phone right now, getting taken in was a very effective way for him to pull rank, flex his muscles and take charge of the situation. It just made sense.

  So then why did it feel like his heart was getting chewed up inside a set of invisible gears? The cop drew closer. He couldn’t leave Kelly and Pip. Not without making sure they were safe. And while he was mostly sure that everything would be okay if Kelly and Pip were taken into custody by law enforcement, the number of unusual things that had happened in the past few hours gnawed at him. What if they thought Kelly had committed a crime and arrested her? What if they took Pip away from Kelly? How long would it take to get Kelly and her granddaughter reunited? Sure, he’d given Kelly his word the night before that he’d be able to make sure everything went smoothly for her and she was taken care of, but now after everything, how could he really be sure?

  Help me, Lord. What’s this thing inside me? What’s it trying to tell me?

  He’d failed Kelly once. He couldn’t fail her again.

  “Good morning, sir,” the cop called. “I’m going to have to ask you to get back in your truck.”

  Which was protocol to avoid anyone getting hit by a passing car. Liam respected him for that. Not that every officer would worry about it on a road this desolate. Liam eyed the man, taking in all the information he could with a glance. He was young, maybe twenty-five, with a polite and professional voice and the kind of build that implied his strength wasn’t just a temporary side effect of youth. He was someone who’d either volunteered for an incredibly boring, bone-chillingly cold side-of-the-road duty in the early morning that most cops would do anything to avoid, or he didn’t have enough seniority to avoid it. He wasn’t much older than Hannah, so was young enough to be his son.

  “Get back in your car, sir,” the officer repeated. “And if you’d be so kind to get your license and registration out for me.”

  Liam glanced back over his shoulder at Kelly. And a prayer filled his heart as his eyes met hers. Help me, Lord. What do I do? He could put Kelly in danger by getting her arrested, or leave her to fend on her own, or make this cop’s life a whole lot harder. And he never liked making a good cop’s life difficult.

  He turned back to the cop. The young man’s hand reached for his weapon, but his tone remained both firm and polite.

  “I said, get back in your truck.”

  Lord, forgive me for what I’m about to do.

  Liam turned and ran.

  “Hey!” the cop yelled. “Stop!”

  Oh, he would, Liam thought, as soon as he figured out what his game plan was. For now, he was buying himself all the time he could. Liam raised his hands high, showing the cop pursuing him that he was unarmed. Liam passed the car, putting as much distance between himself and it as possible. The idea that he could evade this cop, give Kelly a chance to drive off and then double back and find her again crossed his mind. Then another realization hit him. The young man was actually gaining on him. This man could possibly outrun him. For the first time in his life, the great Liam Bearsmith was actually about to be outrun and taken down by a younger, fitter cop. Huh. Well, that narrowed his options. There was only one thing left—he had to put his trust in the training, dedication and innate goodness of the men and women in blue he’d served alongside his entire career and pray the man behind him now was no exception.

  “Sorry, change of plan!” Liam called. “I’m surrendering!”

  Before he could turn, the cop launched into him, tackling Liam hard from behind and forcing him down on the ground. The two men tumbled and Liam rolled clumsily, clutching the other man as if to steady himself in a move he hoped looked more accidental than intentional.

  “I’m sorry!” Liam said. His hand brushed the cop’s shoulder. “I’m really, really sorry.”

  And he was, especially for everything that was about to happen next.

  The young man leaped to his feet, instinctively checking that his gun was secure, but missing the fact Liam had just disabled his radio.

  The man stepped back, pulled his weapon and aimed it at Liam with both hands.

  “Stay down!” The cop’s voice rose. “Hands up!”

  Textbook, Liam thought admiringly. He crouched on the balls of his feet and raised his hands.

  “I’m sorry,” Liam said again, “but you would not believe the night I had. People keep trying to either kill me, drug me, shoot at me or arrest me. It’s been crazy. I know I should’ve stayed in the vehicle, but there’s an innocent woman and infant in there, and I wanted to get them as far away from me and my mess as possible. I really don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”

  “Nobody’s going to get hurt,” the cop replied and while his weapon didn’t waver an inch, Liam could tell the young man was actually listening. Yeah, Liam was definitely going to recommend him for a promotion when this whole mess was cleared. “Now, again, I need to see your license and registration.”

  “I don’t have it!” Liam called. “I was robbed at gunpoint a few hours ago by masked criminals who took it. They took everything, except my police badge. Run the number, I’m Detective Liam Bearsmith, RCMP. And you’re OPP, right?”

  Something flickered behind the young man’s eyes, but all he said was, “Constable Jake Marlie, Ontario Provincial Police, Thousand Islands Detachment.”

  Liam snorted. “Marley, like the Christmas ghost?”

  “No, Marlie like the Toronto hockey team.”

  “Can I call you Jake?” Liam asked.

  “No.” Constable Marlie shook his head. “Now, tell me again, what’s your name?”

  “I already told you,” Liam said. “But clearly you don’t believe me! Which isn’t new. So how about you tell me why nobody believes I’m who I say I am?”

  Constable Marlie didn’t answer. Instead he turned his head toward his radio and called for backup, shooting off police codes rapid-fire. There was 10-33, 10-35, 10-62, 10-26 and 10-64—which basically summed up as “come help me quick, there’s a major crime alert about a possible suspect who needs to be detained quickly—proceed
with caution.” Marlie added 10-93—calling for a roadblock. Then Marlie’s brow furrowed. He’d realized his radio wasn’t working.

  Lord, help me de-escalate this before it gets out of hand.

  “Get down!” Constable Marlie yelled. “On the ground. Hands behind your head.”

  There was a click and Liam watched as the truck door opened behind him and Kelly stepped out. The early morning light caught her features, illuminating her form in an almost ethereal glow.

  “Get back in the truck!” Liam called.

  But she ignored him and instead focused on the officer.

  “Hey, Constable!” Kelly yelled. “Mind telling me why nobody believes him when he tells them who he is?”

  Constable Marlie spun.

  “Ma’am,” he shouted and his voice rose. “Get back in the vehicle! Now!”

  “I can’t do that,” Kelly shouted. “Not until somebody explains what’s going on. You’re going to have to arrest me first.”

  And something snapped inside Liam like a rubber band that had been stretched too far returning back to its normal length. He leaped, catching Constable Marlie’s arm, and then wrestled the weapon from his hands. Then he marched Marlie back to the truck and pushed him against the hood of the truck, as if he was the uniformed cop and Marlie was the suspect.

  “Don’t worry,” Liam said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. You’re a good cop and I respect that. I’m just going to cuff you with your own handcuffs long enough for us to talk and sort this out. And then I’m going to let you go.”

  He wrenched the cop’s hands behind his back and cuffed them.

  “I feel really bad about this,” Liam added. “Don’t take it personally. Because as one cop to another, I can tell you that you did everything by the book. I’ve just got like two decades experience on you and an encyclopedic knowledge of how you do our job. That’s all.”

  Then he turned the constable around and stepped back.

  “When this mess is all cleared up and I file my police report about this,” Liam added, “I’ll make sure it reflects your professionalism and recommends you for promotion. I’m genuinely impressed.”

  Although, it was clear by the look in the cop’s eyes he wasn’t much impressed with Liam and didn’t believe a word he was saying.

  “Now, please, tell me why people keep trying to kill me and don’t believe me when I tell them who I am?” Liam asked.

  “Liam Bearsmith is dead,” Constable Marlie said bluntly. Then despite all obvious evidence to the contrary, he added, “And you’re under arrest for his murder.”

  EIGHT

  She watched as Liam startled, like his whole being was shaken by the news. Then he stepped back and offered his own hand to help the cuffed constable stand. Liam opened his mouth but no words came out, and he closed it again. He looked up to the sky in what she guessed was either silent prayer, processing or both. Then finally he turned back to the officer.

  “Well, that’s a new one,” Liam said. “First of all, Constable Marlie, total respect for trying to tell me that I was under arrest when you were the one in handcuffs. You remind me of myself at your age, and I mean that as a compliment. Secondly, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m not dead and I’m not my own murderer. So why would you possibly think I was?”

  Constable Marlie didn’t even blink—instead, his chin rose.

  “Let’s start with the fact it’s all over the news,” Marlie said. “The cruise ship had security cameras, plus people posted videos online. There’s clear footage of your...of Bearsmith’s death, including you shooting him—”

  “Me?” Liam interrupted.

  “A man who looks similar enough to Bearsmith to pass for him,” Constable Marlie explained as he turned to Kelly, “but who clearly isn’t the same man if you look closely enough. This man not only killed the RCMP officer, he stole his identity. There’s a nationwide warrant out for his arrest. Divers are searching Lake Ontario for his body. So I don’t know when the actual funeral will be. But there’s going to be a candlelight vigil for the real Liam Bearsmith in Ottawa tonight at seven. Police officers are coming from across Canada to attend.”

  Then Constable Marlie’s eyes cut back to Liam and something hardened in their depths.

  “This man’s name is Steve Parker,” he said. “He looks similar enough to Bearsmith, but if you put pictures of him and Bearsmith side by side it’s easy enough to tell them apart. This man’s a bit shorter, heavier set and the shape of his face and nose are different.”

  Kelly felt her eyebrows rise. Liam rocked back on his heels and let out a long breath.

  “Steve Parker is one of my deep covers,” he said. A rumble almost like a roar was building in the back of his throat. “Last used him about eighteen months ago.”

  He ran both hands over his face as if trying to wipe away his former cover. Then he turned to Kelly.

  “You know I’m really me, right?” he asked her. And she was surprised to see how much doubt filled his eyes. “I know I look different than I used to. I mean, I know it’s been over twenty years and I probably don’t look anything like you remember. I’m a lot older and battle-worn. I’ve got a few more scars, I’m nowhere near as fit as I used to be and my nose has been literally bent out of shape.”

  “Stop it,” Kelly said firmly. “Of course I know who you are. You’re you, and you’re perfect at it.”

  His eyes widened. Okay, she wasn’t sure why perfect was the word she’d blurted out. Her hand brushed his jaw and she felt him shiver slightly under her touch.

  “I know you, Liam,” she went on. “You’re the same stubborn, driven, too-independent-for-your-own-good, cop-through-and-through man that you’ve always been.”

  Suddenly she remembered how natural it had felt when she’d spontaneously kissed him. And how he’d kissed her back.

  She stepped back and looked at Constable Marlie.

  “Obviously heard of the Imposters?” she demanded. “You know, the slew of young men in masks and eye patches who took over the boat?” The look on Constable Marlie’s face didn’t confirm much of an answer one way or the other. She pressed on. “The Imposters are cybercriminals. The original two died last year after stealing the RCMP’s witness-protection database and trying to auction it off to criminals online. Now this new bunch have sprung up. Can you imagine how impossible it is to take out an organization with no leader or set goals? I can’t. They’re threatening global chaos.” They kidnapped our daughter! “They’re behind this. And we have to stop them. That’s all that matters.”

  She heard the sound of a vehicle rumbling softly up the empty and desolate road toward them. Instinctively, it seemed, Liam stepped between them and the passing car to shield them from view.

  “Come on,” Liam said, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn’t place. “Let’s see what we can find out, quickly, and then get out of Constable Marlie’s hair and let him go on his way. Thankfully, several sectors of law enforcement have implemented an automated fingerprint-identification system. All I’ve got to do is run my fingerprints through it and it’ll prove who I am.”

  It was such an incredibly simple and almost anticlimactic solution that there was something comforting about it. Less than five minutes later, Kelly was sitting in the back of Constable Marlie’s patrol car with the door wide open, to allay her fear of getting locked in, and baby Pip reluctantly awake again and bouncing on her lap.

  Liam sat in the driver’s seat, with the still-handcuffed Constable Marlie in the passenger seat. She was frankly amazed at how Marlie had been mostly listening and observing. Had she been in the constable’s shoes, she would have been alternating between shouting the place down and asking nonstop questions. But Marlie seemed focused on listening and taking in as much information as possible. She suspected Liam would’ve done the same.

  She held her breath as L
iam scanned his own fingerprints and ran them through the police’s automated fingerprint-identification system, comparing them to the ones on file for Liam Bearsmith. Then she watched as the color drained from his face.

  “They’re not a match,” Liam said. He looked back at her over his shoulder. “They changed my fingerprints. Somebody actually hacked into my official RCMP police file and changed my fingerprints.” He scanned the laptop screen and his scowl deepened. “My height, my age, my weight, even my official photo—they’ve all been tweaked. Somebody actually hacked into my official file and tried to get rid of me.”

  He let out a hard breath and stuttered some unintelligible syllables under his breath, like he was trying to make words but his tongue was failing.

  “Somebody changed my official witness-protection file, too,” she reminded him.

  To make it look like I was married to drive us apart. And then that I was dead.

  Liam turned to the constable.

  “How do I find this video footage that apparently shows a version of me killing me?” he asked. “Where exactly is it?”

  “The internet,” the cop said dryly, with just the slightest tinge of sarcasm in his voice, as if he’d just stopped himself from calling Liam “Grandpa.” “It’s literally all over the internet. You just need to put your name in a search engine and it will come up.”

  Your name, Kelly noted.

  Liam did so, found an entire page’s worth of videos and clicked the first one. A shaky video appeared, with bad audio and low-res graphics. There was a younger, fitter and stronger version of Liam Bearsmith kneeling on the deck of the boat with his hands raised, looking so movie-star impressive he might as well have been airbrushed. There was a tired, older, shivering, wet and exhausted-looking Liam, who looked a lot more like the man now sitting in front of her, taking Superstar Liam’s wallet and badge before holding a gun to his head and shooting him. Superstar Liam collapsed in a pool of blood. Tired Liam turned and looked directly at the camera.