Christmas Witness Protection

by Maggie K. Black

“The RCMP and the inquiry officials asked me to go into witness protection because they were worried about losing a witness,” she said, “and I felt I had a duty to just go lie low somewhere until the inquiry.”

  That he believed. He believed she’d have dug her heels in and stood her ground no matter how many random attackers and death threats came at her, and that as much as she seemingly resented being in witness protection, she saw it as some kind of duty.

  But none of that changed how much the knowledge that she’d been attacked was tearing him up inside. He’d felt that way growing up sometimes, seeing what his foster siblings had gone through, which had been what had driven him into law enforcement and made him want to dedicate his life to saving people. But the feeling had never quite hit him this fast or this strong.

  “Our problem isn’t that three random criminals thought they could intimidate me out of doing my duty,” Holly continued. “I fought back. I can take care of myself. I always do. What I’m worried about are all those innocent witnesses whose identities are being auctioned off in six days to people who want to hurt them.”

  There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, followed by throats being cleared. Noah stood and turned. Liam Bearsmith, Jessica Eddington and Mack Gray stood with Seth at the top of the steps. Noah made brief introductions around the room. Of the undercover detectives, only Liam looked like he could be in law enforcement, but with his broad shoulders and strong jaw he was usually pegged as private security. Most of his undercover assignments were posing as a bodyguard or enforcer for some rich and corrupt man, and he’d helped crack two human trafficking rings. Mack, on the other hand, had an intensity to him, between his jet-black hair, lean strength and sharp blue eyes, that tended to make people think he was either himself a criminal or an actor who’d once played one on television. While Jessica had a diminutive form and bubbly energy that made her come across as a former high school cheerleader whose life goal was to be a soccer mom. All three had faced more guns, investigated more crimes and taken down more violent criminals than anyone would ever guess.

  And like him, all three were currently off duty or on leave, for one reason or another.

  “What’s the situation like outside?” Noah asked.

  “Chaotic.” Liam spoke for the group. “Tons of emergency vehicles and personnel scrambling everywhere, with no one really knowing what’s going on. Several of the empty warehouses have smoke coming out their windows. Emergency response teams are doing a sweep of the area. People don’t know if it’s a fire, a gas leak or what.”

  “Are they heading this way?” Noah asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Right. Noah glanced at his watch. He’d give them fifteen minutes, tops, and then they’d have to make a move. “Solutions?”

  “Seth briefed us,” Liam said, “and here’s what we’ve come up with for a plan. Mack’s going to go underground and see what rumblings he can dig up from our various criminal contacts. Jess will head into the witness protection headquarters, right in the office itself for some kind of retraining, and will be our eyes on the inside. Law enforcement will be scrambling to warn witnesses, relocate as many people as possible, as well as find the Imposters. If Snitch5751 is among them, she’ll find him or her. Seth will keep doing his thing online. I’m going to go see what I can dig up in the broader law enforcement world, as well as dig into Elias himself. He’s been in the force for years. He might’ve made enemies.”

  “And one of the red herrings I’ve posted has already paid off,” Seth interjected. “A news organization has already found the fake wedding license application I created and posted it about it on social media. Clearly they had a search running for news about Hildegard Asher. They won’t be the only ones. Hopefully the Imposters will chase after my trail of false bread crumbs while I find them for real.”

  Noah nodded. Absolutely, this all made sense. Which left Noah to keep Holly safe. “So, we fight the battle on five different fronts at once.”

  “Why not six?” Holly asked. She glanced from Noah to the group of cops and back. “We know they want to find me. As far as we know they’ve only got two goals right now—the auction next week and killing me. So, why don’t we bring them to us? Take me to a new safe house location. Seth can leave a trail of electronic bread crumbs for them to find. We wait for the Imposters to show up and try to kill me. We lay a trap and use me as bait.”

  * * *

  “No.” The denial flew from Noah’s mouth so automatically he’d barely even paused to let her finish. “Absolutely not.”

  Indignation welled up inside her. Who was he to tell her what she could and couldn’t do? Detective Noah Wilder might have saved her life. He might be strong, kind, competent and not too shabby to look at, either. But he wasn’t in charge of her.

  “It makes the most sense!” She leaped to her feet. “I’ve handled way harder and more dangerous missions than this.”

  But the quick, jerking motion of just rising that fast sent the headache in her skull swelling to a crescendo. Nausea hit her again, this time harder than before. Despite the fact that she’d rested her eyes, the headache seemed to be growing worse. She sat back down.

  What was wrong with her? A veteran soldier who’d served her country and taken countless blows in the line of duty was now being sidelined by a headache? She’d taken bad blows before, and she’d always pushed through. She’d trained with bruises, cuts, sprains and even fractures.

  Help me, Lord. I’m right about this. I know I am right. Help me get over whatever this pain is. Help me push through. Keep this from stopping me.

  She looked up at Noah, just long enough for her gaze to hold his. There was something there, unspoken and invisible, moving through the air between them. She could feel it in the way he was looking at her, the way he was standing almost at attention. The closest thing she could compare it to was that moment she’d look to another soldier on an obstacle course and know without a doubt that if she ever fell, her comrade-at-arms would catch her.

  “Don’t sideline me, Noah, please,” she said. “I’m an asset. Not a liability.”

  But he shook his head, and she could tell even before he opened his mouth again what the answer was going to be. “No. You can look at mug shot photos and try to identify the Imposters. You can work with a sketch artist to recreate their faces. But I’m not just tossing you out there and hoping they come after you.”

  His phone began to ring again. It was a loud and raucous rift, which she normally would’ve liked. But now the noise was so loud it seemed to pierce her skull.

  “Is that your doctor friend?” Holly asked. “If so, do you still want me to talk to her? It seemed to really matter to you, and my head is still bugging me.”

  Noah blinked as if rebooting his mind. Then he nodded. He said a few quick words into the phone that Holly couldn’t quite hear, and then handed it to her. “Here you go. I told her your name was Holly, that you were part of a case I was working on and you were in an accident.”

  She was part of a case he was working on. Well, that was an improvement over being thought of as someone he had to babysit.

  “Thank you,” Holly said. She leaned back on the couch. Noah hesitated a second, then crossed the room and joined the other detectives by Seth’s desk. Their conversation dropped to a murmur. “Hello? I’m...Holly. Thanks for talking to me.”

  “No problem at all, Holly. I’m Anne.” Her voice was polite and professional. It was warm without being weak. And Holly gravitated to it.

  She cupped her hand around the receiver and murmured. “Look. I bumped my head and the headache is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I’m really hoping you’re going to tell me I don’t have a concussion.”

  She didn’t have days to rest and heal. She needed to be better now. She needed to help join the fight.

  There was a pause on the other end of the line and Holly brace
d herself, waiting for Anne to tell her she couldn’t give her a diagnosis over the phone.

  Instead she said, “Well, it’s possible you do, especially if you bumped your head. But concussions are pretty common injuries and people recover. It’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  She wasn’t afraid, was she? She was frustrated. People’s lives were in danger and she needed to take action to save them.

  “How do you know Noah?” Holly asked.

  “My husband was fostered by his family when the two were teenagers,” Anne replied. There was a simplicity and directness to her manner. Was it Holly’s imagination or had Anne’s voice faltered slightly when she’d said “husband”? Holly remembered Seth had said they were estranged. “Noah says you were in some kind of accident?”

  “I was.” But she was having a hard time remembering it. “A car accident. We lost control and smashed into something. Either a tree or a pole, I think.”

  “And you hit your head?” Anne pressed.

  “I think so,” Holly said.

  “Do you know where?”

  “No,” Holly admitted. “The pain’s in the back of my skull, but it kind of moves around. Like a halo.”

  “Can you remember three words for me?” Anne asked. “Tree, ball and dog.”

  “Yup.” That was easy enough.

  “Has anyone checked your eyes to see if your pupils look normal and are responding normally?”

  “I don’t know.” But she’d locked eyes with Noah enough he’d surely have noticed if something was wrong.

  “Can you touch your finger to your nose, then to your left knee, then back to your nose ten times?” Anne asked.

  “Of course.” This was ridiculous, but she did it anyway. “Okay, done.”

  “Now spin your left foot eight times counterclockwise.”

  She did that, too. “Fine.”

  “Now what are those three words I asked you to remember?”

  Suddenly a picture filled her mind, of her neighbor’s backyard as a kid, with his K9 dog lying under a tree chewing a ball. But as she opened her mouth nothing came out. “Dog...and something...” Tears filled her eyes. She closed them tight. “I have a concussion, don’t I?”

  “I suspect so,” Anne said. “I can’t diagnose you over the phone, but I suspect you have a traumatic brain injury. A mild one. Along with the headache, you’ll probably be nauseous, your brain will be slower than usual and you’ll be oversensitive to motion, noise and light. I’d recommend twenty-four to forty-eight hours of complete rest, as soon as you’re able, in total darkness to let your brain start to heal. After that, ease back slowly into life.”

  No, this couldn’t be happening. She didn’t have time for this. Anne had to be wrong.

  “You’re also going to want to have someone watching over you,” she added, “to keep an eye on your symptoms. And again, see a doctor.”

  “But I can’t afford to have a concussion.” Holly wasn’t sure if she was saying the words to herself or to Anne, or if she’d even meant to say them out loud. “People’s lives are in danger.”

  “I’m sorry,” Anne said. “But if you have a concussion, there’s not much you can do about it but rest, take care of yourself and wait.”

  But how could she? They were counting on her to help them identify the Imposters. They needed her to help stop the auction and save those witnesses’ lives. She couldn’t let them down.

  “Is it possible for me to have a concussion and for the people around me not to know?” Holly asked.

  “Yeah,” Anne said, hesitating on the word as she said it. “It’s very common actually for someone to have a concussion and for those around them not to realize it. They’d probably just think you’re confused or tired.”

  Okay, and she might not even have a concussion.

  “But I would also highly recommend you tell Noah and whoever else you’re with as soon as possible.” Anne’s tone sharpened. “You’re doing yourself no favors by hiding it.”

  Holly glanced over to Noah. He was standing with his back to the window, framed by the swirling snow and pale Lake Ontario waters outside. He looked handsome and strong, in that fresh-recruit way, but also tired and worried. He looked like a man who didn’t sleep as much as he should and tried his best to hide it. Above all, he looked utterly reliable and dependable. Like the kind of man who shoveled out the driveway of every elderly neighbor’s home on the block and would drive all night through a snowstorm before he let a friend down.

  She wasn’t going to worry him with this. Not until she knew for sure and not while she could just fight through it.

  He glanced her way, his eyebrows lifting. She cupped her hand around her mouth so he couldn’t read her lips.

  “I have some memory gaps around the accident,” Holly admitted. “Some are really sharp.” Like the sound of the Wraith’s and the Ghoul’s voices. “But others, like people’s faces, are somewhere between fuzzy and a blank. How long will it take for my memories to come back?”

  “I don’t know,” Anne said. “Could be hours, days or months. Or they might never come back.”

  Noah was still looking at her. What do I tell him?

  “But it’s also possible I don’t have a concussion,” Holly pressed.

  “Very possible,” Anne said. “You might take a few painkillers and be better in an hour.”

  Okay then. This she liked better.

  “But if you do have a concussion, I can’t tell you how important it is that you see a doctor and rest,” Anne added. “You might feel fine. It might feel like it’s not that bad and you’re able to push through it. But the harder you push yourself, and the longer you put off resting, the worse the symptoms are going to get.”

  A crash sounded and the floor-to-ceiling window behind Noah exploded in a spray of glass.

  FIVE

  “Everybody down!” Noah heard his own voice boom through the loft, rising above the sound of the glass even as it rained down around him. He threw himself forward, just as Holly tumbled from the couch. He caught her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to the floor, knocking the coffee table up in front of them like a shield. It was a smoke bomb, nonlethal yet painful. He could tell that much by the acrid smell and the harsh burn in the back of his throat. For a second, all he could hear was the ragged breathing of the rest of the team as they hit the floor, coughing and spluttering. Cold wind whipped into the loft, freezing his skin, but helping disperse the smoke. He watched as Holly pulled herself from his arms and crouched low.

  “They’re trying to smoke us out,” he shouted.

  “Agreed!” Liam’s voice echoed from the other side of the room.

  “Do you think they know we’re here?” Jess’s voice came through the fog.

  “My guess is no,” Noah answered. “I think they’ve narrowed down their options and are probably just fishing.” Just at a much faster rate than Seth had predicted. “We’ve got to stay low.”

  “No!” Seth called. “We’ve got to head up!”

  “It’s a gas!” Mack barked. “Gases rise!”

  “But we’re in a loft!” Seth was already crawling across the floor toward the ladder. “There’s fresh air and a way to get up to the roof!”

  Was there? The building didn’t have a fire escape or balconies, and Noah was pretty certain he’d have noticed a door to the roof. He glanced at Holly, who shrugged. “Well, it’s not what they’d be expecting us to do, right?” she murmured.

  True. “Are you okay to crawl, though?” Noah asked. “How about climbing?”

  “I don’t think we have a choice,” she said.

  Fair enough. Smoke was filling the air. His colleagues were creeping past them, single file, following Seth’s lead.

  “Just promise me that if I slip you’ve got my back,” she added.

  “Always.”

&
nbsp; She turned and started crawling, joining his colleagues as they crossed the floor. She reached the ladder and started climbing. He swallowed a breath and stood, his arms raised to catch her if she fell. Another crash sounded behind them as a second smoke bomb entered the room. It detonated. The haze grew thicker, until he could barely see a few inches above his head.

  “Holly!” Mack’s voice floated from somewhere above Noah. “Here, grab my hand!”

  Then he watched her feet disappear from view and heard her body land on the platform above. He grabbed hold of the ladder and climbed up after her, feeling the stinging pain of smoke sear his lungs as he battled the urge to breathe. He forced himself upward, rung after rung, until he reached the wooden platform that served as Seth’s sleeping area. Noah crouched there, feeling his head touch the ceiling when he tried to stand. For a second, he was lost, alone in the smoke. Then he felt a large, strong hand grab his shoulder and yank him upward and to the right. He rose and found himself standing inside a ceiling vent. Mack lay on his stomach in front of him. Behind his fellow cop, Noah could vaguely see Holly crawling away.

  “This way,” Mack said. “It’s pretty tight, but thankfully, it’s short and widens ahead.”

  And where exactly was he going? Noah climbed up into the vent and inched along it on this stomach a few feet, before he emerged in a long, narrow, triangular room with sloping windows. Panes that Liam and Jess were in the process of forcing open. An extra-large backpack, a laptop bag and a small cooler sat against the wall, all suspiciously free of dust.

  He closed the vent behind him and Mack handed him a wide piece of board to slide over it, blocking any last wisp of smoke. The window opened and fresh wintry air rushed in, clearing the room.

  Noah glanced at Seth. “So, when were you going to tell me you had a secret escape route? You didn’t think that would be a helpful thing for your witness protection officer to know?”

  Seth didn’t meet his eye. Noah wasn’t really surprised. It wasn’t shocking that Seth had trust issues. The brutal mistreatment he’d suffered at the hands of his powerful father had led him to a life in the shadows, with a deep distrust of anyone in authority. And although he seemed to have turned everything around, Noah also had no illusions about the fact that Seth had lashed out as a teenager and briefly tried being the biggest bully in the room, before he’d realized the only place he would ever feel safe was alone. Most people Noah met in witness protection were survivors. Most kids his parents had fostered, too.