In the empty locker room, the US marshal had her phone to her ear, but pointed to a pair of socks and sneakers on a bench.
Priscilla nodded her thanks and slipped on the footwear.
“Ready?” The tall blonde smiled as she pocketed her phone. “I know you’re worn out, but do you think you’re up for more questions from the FBI if we feed you first?”
Priscilla couldn’t summon the energy to return the woman’s smile. “To be honest, all I want to do is sleep for a week.”
The marshal studied her. “You haven’t had much of that lately, have you?”
“Not really.” Priscilla sighed. “I can’t guarantee I won’t put my head down and pass out, food or no food.”
“Change of plans, then.” The marshal punched in a number on her smartphone. “Special Agent Wilcombs? It’s Marshal Adams. Yes, I’m with Priscilla now. She’s not going to make the debriefing.” Adams paused. “Yes, I understand, but she needs to rest.” Another short pause. “I understand. I’ll call you in a few hours with an update.”
Adams returned the phone to her pocket. “Okay, let’s go find you a bed in a safe location.”
“Really?” Priscilla could have hugged the woman.
Adams smiled again. “Yes, really. Now, is there anything else you need before we head out?”
Priscilla could think of only one more thing. “Luc.”
* * *
Priscilla snuggled down on the queen-sized bed, a throw blanket tucked around her as she lay on top of the comforter. Adams had wrangled her a few hours’ reprieve. Priscilla couldn’t hunker down for a full night’s rest, but grabbing a long catnap would be heaven.
“All settled?” Luc leaned over to smooth a strand of hair from her cheek.
“Yes, much better.”
He chuckled, then kissed her cheek. “Sweet dreams.”
Priscilla closed her eyes, her body relaxing.
“Priscilla?”
Her eyes blinked open. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, but it’s time to get up.” Luc gave her a sweet smile. She would love to see more smiles like that from him.
“Time to get up?” Priscilla frowned. “But I just closed my eyes a second ago.”
“You’ve been out cold for three hours.” Luc lightly touched her shoulder. “Adams brought pizza.”
At the mention of food, Priscilla’s mouth watered. She sniffed the air and caught a whiff of pepperoni. “Oh, I’m starving!”
“I thought that would get you moving.” Luc moved to the door. “I’ll tell Adams you’re awake.”
Priscilla sat up and pushed the blanket off. “Let me freshen up and I’ll be right out.”
Ten minutes later, she walked into the small sitting area of the hotel room. Mac sat on the sofa, his arm in a sling.
“Mac!” She rushed toward him but stopped short of hugging him. “I thought you weren’t going to be released from the hospital today.”
“I’m bruised and battered, but nothing that some pain pills and a good night’s sleep won’t cure.” Mac grinned. “Besides, I told them how terrible a patient I’d be—they had to let me go.”
Adams placed boxes of pizza on the coffee table, then handed out paper plates and napkins. “I think what really happened is that he put up such a fuss about checking on Priscilla in person that they let him go to give the other patients peace and quiet.”
Priscilla gingerly touched Mac’s shoulder. “Are you really okay?”
“I will be, now that you’re safe.” Mac held out his plate as Adams began dishing out the slices.
Suddenly ravenous, Priscilla sat down beside Mac and bit into a slice.
The four of them ate silently for a few minutes. Luc wiped sauce from his mouth. “What’s going on with Culvert and the Devinses?”
“Culvert is singing like a canary, giving details about Dr. and Marshal Devins’s involvement with criminals.” Adams reached for another slice of pepperoni. “He’s not the only one talking a mile a minute. Both of the Devinses have confessed to their parts as well, with Dr. Devins pointing the finger at his wife and Laura Devins pointing it right back at him, especially related to everything that happened to Priscilla.”
“With their confessions, will there be a trial?” Priscilla set down her empty plate, her appetite sated.
“Don’t quote me on this, but I don’t think so,” Mac said. “With all the information Culvert is divulging, his lawyer is angling for a plea bargain. He’ll still do time—a nice long stretch—but he’s negotiating for life in a federal prison if he fully cooperates with the federal prosecutors.”
“Did Laura really murder Grammar and stage the explosion at the motel after killing Rachel?” Priscilla asked, her heart aching at all the needless deaths.
“The FBI found traces of the explosives used to make the motel bomb in Laura’s trunk, but she clammed up about the bombing itself. Rachel Whitehurst’s death appears to have been from a heart attack—we may never know if she died from natural causes or related to the bomb. Her medical records indicated she had a weak heart, but the medical examiner is running more tests to see if anything helped her to have a heart attack before the bomb went off.” Mac sighed. “The Devinses have lawyered up, but with their initial confessions, it’s likely their attorneys will seek a plea bargain as well.”
“What happens next?” Luc took a swig from his water bottle.
“We’ll find Priscilla another safe house while we sort through the paperwork and the federal prosecutors work out the deals.” Mac patted her hand. “But that shouldn’t take too long.”
Tears sprang to Priscilla’s eyes. “It’s really over? I’ll soon have my life back?”
“Yes.” Mac smiled at her. “You’ll soon be able to live wherever you want to.” He glanced at Luc. “And with whomever you want to.”
Priscilla could hardly believe that after seven years of running, she could finally put down roots and think about the future, a prospect made even more appealing since meeting Luc. But would he want to be part of her life after all that had happened?
TWENTY-FIVE
Two weeks later...
Standing before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, Priscilla swept her hair up into a loose topknot, securing it with a clip and allowing several tendrils to dangle around her face. She hummed along to a Christmas song on her phone’s playlist, as she smoothed a few wrinkles from her new red dress. A dab of lipstick and silver dangling earrings completed her outfit.
A knock on her apartment door startled her. Luc was early. When he’d asked to take her to dinner, she had been thrilled—and nervous. Now that they weren’t running for their lives, they would finally have time to discuss their impetuous wedding. Given his stated reason for finding her was to annul their marriage, she was trying not to read too much into his request.
She hurried to the door. But instead of Luc, Mac stood on her doorstep, a portfolio in one hand.
“Hi, Priscilla.” His eyes widened at her attire. Then his face relaxed. “You must have a date.”
“Yes. Luc will be here in ten minutes.” Her cheeks warmed as she stepped back to let him in. “I’ve hardly seen him these past couple of weeks, as he’s been working long hours to catch up at work, and I’ve had so many FBI interviews and paperwork.”
He held up the portfolio. “I’m afraid I have a few more papers for you to sign for your exit from the witness protection program.”
“What more is there to do?” She didn’t mean to sound testy, but she was more than ready to get her life back—and hopefully spend a lot of time with Luc. Maybe she’d go back to school to finish her degree or open her own beauty salon. At least she had some money in the bank after living frugally while inside WITSEC. So many possibilities, but she wasn’t going to rush.
“You know how the government needs every i dotted and t cros
sed...in triplicate. Don’t worry—it won’t take long.”
“I hope not, as I have a lot to talk about with Luc.” Including what he might like for Christmas, now just over a week away. She led him into the eat-in kitchen, where there was space to spread the papers on the bare counter.
“Just sign where I put the sticky arrows, and I’ll be out of here before Luc shows up.” Mac winked at her. “I heard you had a session with another hypnotherapist.”
“I’ve met twice with a female psychiatrist who’s trained in hypnotherapy.” She set the papers down on the counter.
“Did it help?”
“Yes,” Priscilla said. “I finally remember my entire time with Luc that night in Vegas.” What a relief that had been, to have all her memories of that night fully restored to her.
“And marrying him?” Mac leaned against the counter.
“That too.” She picked up the pen Mac had laid on top of the papers. “What exactly am I signing?”
But Mac ignored her question. “What are you going to do now that you’ve remembered everything?”
“I’m not sure. That’s what we’re going to talk about tonight.”
He leveled a look at her, his eyes serious. “I might have had a few doubts about Luc when I first met him, but his actions proved that he’s a man worthy of your love.”
She couldn’t deny the way her heart vibrated like an electric razor every time she spoke to Luc. Today she’d awakened early in anticipation of his arrival late this afternoon, and had spent half the day mooning over his absence.
Mac gently took her hand in his. “Listen, Priscilla. I know you’ve been through a lot these past few weeks, and the idea that you can live your life without fear is still new to you. But I will say as a married man of eight years who’s still madly in love with my wife—I think you and Luc are very well suited for each other.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then released his grip. “Now, let’s go over these papers, so I can leave before he arrives.”
Mac’s words about Luc lingered in the back of her mind as Mac explained the documents and she signed the papers. For the first time in forever, Priscilla believed she could view the future not with fear or trepidation, but with hope, joy...and love.
* * *
Standing in front of Priscilla’s apartment door, Luc stepped to the left and took one final glance at his reflection in the front room window. He smoothed back his freshly cut hair, then adjusted his grip on the bouquet of red and white roses. He was acting like a schoolboy on his first date, his nerves tingling with anticipation.
During the weeks since the recapture of Culvert, Luc had had a lot of time to contemplate his future, and he’d quickly come to the conclusion that it would be very bleak without Priscilla in his life. Now all he had to do was convince her that their hasty marriage was a firm enough foundation upon which they could build a life together. He’d even taken the bold step of telling his family about his wife, and his mother had immediately insisted Luc bring Priscilla home with him to celebrate Christmas.
Knocking, he waited for her to open the door.
But instead of Priscilla greeting him with a smile, Mac stood there. “Hey, Luc. Come on in. Priscilla will be out in a minute.”
Luc entered, clutching the flowers like a shield. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I just popped by with some final paperwork for Priscilla to sign to complete her exit from the witness protection program.”
“I see.” Luc was about to comment on how at ease the marshal appeared to be in Priscilla’s apartment, when Priscilla walked into the room wearing a red dress that clung to all the right places and captured his thoughts.
Luc sidestepped Mac to cross the room quickly to her, holding out the flowers. “You look lovely. Gorgeous. Beautiful.” He stopped himself before he could add more accolades, not wanting to overwhelm her with his enthusiasm.
“You brought me flowers.”
“Uh. Yes.” Heat crept up the back of his neck as he handed the bouquet to her.
“Thank you—for the flowers and compliments.” She accepted the flowers, then surprised him by kissing his cheek. “I’ll just put these in a vase. Then we can go.”
“You’re welcome.” With effort, Luc resisted the urge to adjust his tie for the millionth time. He started to follow Priscilla into the kitchen when Mac laid a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ve already told Priscilla this, but I want to tell you too.” Mac extended his hand. “I wish you both the best.”
“Thanks. That means more than you can know.” Luc shook Mac’s hand.
“It won’t be easy for her to readjust to life outside witness protection. Be patient.”
“I’ll try, but I admit that I’m anxious to put that behind us.” Luc bounced slightly on his toes, unable to control his excitement—not only over the evening, but the prospect of spending the rest of his life with the woman he loved. He paused, startled by the thought. Yes, loved. Somehow, over the course of those few days together running from a killer, he’d fallen in love with Priscilla.
Mac chuckled. “I can see you are.” The marshal tucked a leather portfolio under his arm as Priscilla came back into the room carrying a vase with Luc’s roses.
She set the floral arrangement on a small end table and turned to Luc. “Ready?”
“If you are.” Luc couldn’t keep his gaze off her as she said goodbye to Mac.
“Thanks, Mac, for everything.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
“You’re welcome.” Mac headed to the door, then paused to look at Luc. “Take care of her.”
Luc nodded. “I will.”
After Mac left, Luc joined her by the door and took her hand in his. “You okay?”
She sniffled. “Yeah. I just can’t believe it’s really over, and that I finally have my life back.” She squeezed his hand. “I don’t know how to live without looking over my shoulder.”
Luc tugged her closer, his free hand fingering a ringlet of hair near her cheek. “You have me to help you.”
A smile crossed her face. “Yes, I do.”
“And we have all the time in the world to create new memories together.” He held his breath, hoping she would agree with him.
Priscilla gazed up at him. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you about Dr. Hastings.”
Concern etched lines in his forehead. “I thought you weren’t seriously hurt at the cabin.”
“I wasn’t.” She paused. “Dr. Hastings is a hypnotherapist.”
Luc nearly forgot to breathe as he stammered, “Does that mean you—I mean, do you remember me?”
“She was able to help me unlock all my memories of that night, not just the bits and pieces that had shaken loose over the years.” She smoothed the lapel of his jacket. “I now know the full story of how you rescued me from my attacker and how sweet you were after Gerald fired me.”
“Thank God.” He brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “But I’m sorry that means you’ve remembered more about the shooting.”
More tears filled Priscilla’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “That part’s horrible,” she whispered, then gave a shaky laugh. “But the memories of you are much nicer.”
That startled a laugh from him as well. “I’m glad.” He drew her hands together in his. Now seemed like the ideal time to tell her what he was thinking about their future. “We might have decided to get married on a whim—”
“It did sound like a good solution to my jobless—and soon-to-be homeless—state, since I knew Gerald would blacklist me from casino work,” she interjected. “You were horrified at my having no family or close friends to help me.”
“I’ve never been that impulsive in my life, but somehow, it seemed like the right thing to do, especially considering that we had known each other for a time as teens.” He gazed down at her, marve
ling at her beauty that showed from the inside out. The caring heart he’d seen in her on the mission trip had shown through in her concern for his safety as they ran from a killer.
“My own knight in shining armor.” She added, “But what I really can’t believe is that we chose jumpsuit Elvis to perform the ceremony.”
He shared a grin with her, then steered the conversation back to the present. “While I was angry and hurt when you disappeared, I’m grateful that God brought us back together.”
“Me too.” She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. “You were the answer to a prayer I didn’t know I had been praying for years.”
He stroked her back. “Does this mean you’re willing to stay married to me if we take things nice and slow?”
She snuggled deeper into his embrace. “Yes.” Then she whispered against his chest. “But is it too soon to tell you that I love you? Or maybe I should wait to say it on Christmas?”
His heart swelled with his own love for this woman as he drew back to gaze down at her. “That sounds like a lovely gift, but I was always rather impatient when it came to waiting for Christmas morning to open presents.”
“Then I won’t make you wait.” Priscilla touched his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I think we can proceed with our evening’s plans, Mr. Langsdale.” A mischievous glow lit her face. “Although, since we are married, we don’t have to wait until the end of the evening for a kiss, do we?”
“That, Mrs. Langsdale, is an excellent idea.” Luc lowered his head as Priscilla stretched up to meet his lips. As the kiss deepened, all thoughts of the past faded away. For now, this moment, holding and kissing his wife, was all that mattered.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Sworn to Protect by Shirlee McCoy.
Dear Reader,
I’m often asked where I get my story ideas. Most of the time, the answer is simply, “It came to me one day out of the blue.” Not so with Dangerous Christmas Memories. The genesis of this story came from a news article about a celebrity who didn’t realize his Las Vegas marriage was actually legal until years after the fact. Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction. I knew I had to tell a story about a man and woman who meet and marry quickly in Vegas, then end up separated without dissolving the marriage. But turning that idea into a workable manuscript took numerous starts and rewrites before the story finally came together in Dangerous Christmas Memories. And I’m glad I could give Priscilla and Luc’s story a much happier ending than the celebrity who inspired the book.
Dangerous Christmas Memories Page 18
