The Innocent Witness

by Terri Reed

  Mikey shook his head. Then puffed up his chest, taking on a different posture. “You can’t blackmail me.”

  Floored, Viv stared. The words were shocking enough, but the voice Mikey imitated wasn’t Steven’s.

  Blackmail? Anger underscored her shock. Whatever illicit scheme Steven had been involved with had been his downfall. And could very well get his son killed.

  “Do you recognize that voice?” Anthony questioned Viv.

  She searched her memory. And came up empty. “It’s vaguely familiar but I can’t place it.”

  “Keep thinking. Hopefully you’ll remember.” Anthony picked up a fry and handed it to Mikey. “Good job, buddy. You did real well.”

  Mikey snatched the fry and shoved it into his mouth. Then he picked up another fry and offered it to Anthony. With a wry smile Anthony leaned forward and took the offering between his teeth and gulped it down, to Mikey’s delight.

  Viv watched the interplay with a lump of awe in her throat. In such a short time Anthony had connected to Mikey in a way she’d seen few people do. Adoration spread through her chest. Anthony met her gaze. The tenderness there threatened to melt her heart. But as their gazes touched his expression shifted; his dark eyes became as flat and unreadable as onyx. Cold. Distant.

  She didn’t understand why he was shutting her out. Or why it stung so badly.

  “Let’s get a move on,” Anthony said as he cleared away their garbage from the picnic table and ushered them back to the van.

  Pushing aside thoughts of his icy stare, she told herself she was being silly for being upset. Just because he had bonded with Mikey and she was grateful didn’t mean anything would or should develop between her and Anthony. She had to keep her focus on staying alive, not on her growing attachment to him.

  Acting on her growing attraction to her bodyguard was not going to happen.

  With that thought firmly in place, she settled in for the long ride ahead. She adjusted her seat to a more comfortable position. At Mikey’s insistent plea for air, she rolled down her window.

  As soon as they hit the highway, Anthony asked, “Do you have any idea who the senator was blackmailing?”

  “No.” Her stomach knotted. There was so much about Steven she hadn’t known. There had been a time when she’d wanted to share all aspects of his life, but Steven’s indifference to her and his rejection of Mikey snuffed out that desire. She’d had a role to play in public but at home they left each other to their own accord. “But if he had anything worth hiding he’d have put it in the house safe.”

  Anthony slanted her a glance. “And risk you finding it?”

  “He doesn’t…didn’t think I knew about the safe. I’ve never looked in it, but I have the combination. The contractor who installed the safe gave me a copy not realizing I wasn’t supposed to have it.”

  “I’m sure the police have already looked inside it by now.”

  “I doubt it. It’s well-hidden.” The knot in her stomach expanded and tightened in her chest. She dreaded the thought of returning to the Woodley Park house, but if they wanted to get to the bottom of what Steven was involved in and clear her name, they had to go back to D.C. “We need to go there.”

  “Can’t. It’s not safe. We’ll let the authorities handle it.”

  “I don’t trust the authorities. I can’t risk giving whoever is framing me more ammunition. They already have the D.C. police, the FBI and the media in their pocket. The only way I’m going to be able to prove my innocence and protect Mikey is to find out what Steven had, and on whom.”

  “My job is to get you to safety, not put you in more jeopardy.”

  “You won’t let anything happen to me,” she said, a confidence in her voice that was very real.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. His hands flexed on the steering wheel.

  “You’ve evaded the bad guys, confronted them and won and figured out how we were being tracked. You’re good at what you do. I trust you.”

  “Look, this isn’t a debate,” he said finally. But not, she noticed, until she’d told him most of her reasons for trusting him. “We’re not going to D.C.”

  Bristling at the tone of finality in his voice, she curled her upper lip. “Like it or not, I’m going to find out what’s in the safe.”

  A dark thundercloud of anger advanced across his expression. “Not on my watch, you’re not.”

  Not afraid of his anger, she leveled him with a look and dug in her heels. She was tired of being told what to do. “Then maybe you better call Trent and find someone who will take me.”

  The line of his jaw tightened as he clenched his back teeth. “When we get to Boston, you can do whatever you want.” He ripped out the words impatiently. “But I’m not taking you anywhere near D.C.”

  “I thought I was the client, not your prisoner,” she said, allowing irritation to drip from each word.

  He spared her a glance. “Your father’s the client.”

  “Give me your phone so I can call my father and have him tell you to take me to D.C.” She held out her hand expectantly.

  “What about Mikey?” he asked quietly. “You’re willing to put him in harm’s way on the off chance of finding something incriminating in your house?”

  Her hand lowered. Consternation creased her brow. “That’s not fair. You know I don’t want anything bad to happen to him. But I also don’t want to go to prison or end up dead. Either of which leaves him alone and vulnerable. My parents will put him in a facility if anything happens to me. I can’t stand the mere thought.”

  Anthony ran a hand through his hair. The traffic grew increasingly worse as the day wore on. So did his stress. He understood her need to be proactive and find evidence to clear her name. He really did. But every instinct said no way. “How about this? I call a buddy in the Secret Service. Have him go to the house and check the safe.”

  “How about you call your buddy and have him meet us at the house? Between the two of you, Mikey and I would be safe.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not taking you anywhere near there.”

  “Pull over,” she demanded. “I want out. Mikey and I can manage without you.”

  Though he found her bravado endearing, he had to suppress the ironic laugh threatening to escape. “That’s ridiculous. You’d both be dead right now if you’d been on your own.”

  “Only because they could track us using the Wanderer Alert. There’s no way anyone can track us now.”

  Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip. Her confidence wavered for a flash, enough to flip off his frustration with her like a switch.

  Her big blues eyes searched his face. “Right?”

  “Yes. Still doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods yet. Until you’re both in protective custody, you’ll always be at risk.”

  “Yeah, except that we could just as easily be at risk while in custody. And that’s a fact.”

  As much as he hated to admit it, she had a point. His gut clenched with apprehension. Whoever murdered her husband was highly connected. Which meant it would be risky to contact anyone from the Secret Service, regardless that he trusted each agent with his life. And she was right; the only way to really secure her safety was to find out who was pulling the strings.

  “Let me think about it,” he said.

  Her tight, satisfied smile annoyed him. But he really couldn’t be mad at her. Not when he admired her spunk. He just hoped it didn’t get her killed. He couldn’t stand the thought of failing her.

  He took the next exit and found a gas station. He pulled into the full-service island. While the attendant filled the tank, Anthony stepped out of the van and called Trent.

  “Tell me you’re not close,” James said, his voice laced with an odd note that sent chills of alarm sliding down Anthony’s back.

  “We’re not close. What’s wrong?”

  “The townhouse is under surveillance. Your sister’s running their pictures through NCIC.”

  As a homicide detective Angie would have acce
ss to the National Crime Information Center’s database. “How many are there?”

  “Four that we’ve spotted. They’re in rentals procured with bogus credit cards and ID’s. Not sure if they’re local or not. Haven’t decided yet whether to run them off. Might be better to keep them where we can see them. When you get into town go directly to the FBI field office downtown. Talk to Special Agent Mosely.”

  Wariness slid over Anthony as he glanced toward the van. Through the front windshield he could see Viv, her light blue gaze watching him. Her words played themselves in his head. They already have the D.C. police, the FBI and the media in their pocket. “You trust Mosely?”

  “Implicitly.”

  “Good to know. We got some info from the kid. Seems Grant was blackmailing someone.”

  “Which got him killed,” Trent stated. “Hmm. Does the wife have any ideas who?”

  “None. But Vivian’s sure if her husband had something worth hiding it would be in the house safe.”

  “Then the authorities would have it.”

  “Viv doesn’t seem to think so. She claims the safe is well-hidden. She’s insisting we go to D.C. and check it out.”

  “She can get into the safe?”

  “So she claims.”

  “D.C.’s risky.”

  “Agreed. But it may be the only chance we have of clearing her name.”

  There was a moment of silence on the other line. “I’ll send a team to meet you.”

  “Not sure that’s a good idea. What if they’re followed? I have someone in D.C. I can call for backup.”

  “You make your call. Let me know if you need anything,” Trent said. “And Carlucci?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Protect your witness. And don’t get yourself killed in the process.”

  “So what have you decided?” Viv asked, anxious to know what their next move would be. Her nerves were tingling with a strange mixture of trepidation and exhilaration. She’d gone head-to-head with Anthony, arguing her point and demanding her way, but ultimately she’d left the decision in his capable hands.

  He’d made two phone calls while he’d waited for the gas to fill. Had he made arrangements for someone else to complete the assignment of getting them to safety or was he going to hold the line and take her straight to Boston?

  Anthony started the van and headed the vehicle back onto the interstate. “We’ll head to D.C.”

  A bit stunned, Viv sat back. She was gratified he’d listened to her and accepted her change of plans. And yet she was leery of returning to the scene of the crime. They would be taking a risk. She would be putting Mikey in danger.

  She slanted a glance at Anthony. He had proven himself a proficient and skilled bodyguard. He wouldn’t let anything happen to them. She was as sure of that as she was of her faith in God. Between the two, she and Mikey were golden.

  They stopped for the night in Ohio. The motel had an indoor heated swimming pool. After a quick run to the nearest one-stop-shopping mega store for swimsuits and a few other necessities, Viv and Mikey stood at the edge of the pool. Anthony had first scoped out the pool, making sure they were alone and that there were no cameras in the pool house. She was thankful Mikey had been able to learn how to swim. They both needed the energy outlet right now. Viv was proud how well Mikey was doing on this road trip. She’d expected more fits from being confined, but he seemed content to watch videos and snack on the dried fruit she’d bought during one of their stops.

  Anthony had declined getting in the water, but sat back on a reclining chair with his head resting on his folded arms, looking like an ad from a magazine. All male beauty clothed in snug jeans; a red T-shirt that showed off his muscular shoulders nicely. A five o’clock shadow darkened his strong jawline and made him even more ruggedly handsome. She doubted he was as relaxed as he looked because his alert gaze kept scanning the parking lot through the big picture window next to the pool-house door.

  Mikey hung on to an orange-colored foam noodle provided by the motel. He laughed as he kicked, propelling himself forward to chase her. Hopping to the side through the water to stay just out of his reach, Viv felt alive and safe. For the moment she refused to think about the impending trip to D.C. Instead, she concentrated on having fun with Mikey. They splashed around for a good hour before Mikey grew tired. While he floated on his back, she swam laps.

  When she’d done a hundred reps, she stopped and found that Anthony had moved from his lounge chair to the tiled deck of the pool. He’d slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up his jeans to his knees and put his feet in the water. Mikey bobbed up and down, going under the water and springing back up while hanging on to Anthony’s ankles.

  Viv’s heart constricted tight. They looked so right together. Like they belonged to each other. Father and son. Like Anthony belonged with them. A family. Her husband. His wife.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the tender scene, and dove under the water where Anthony couldn’t see the longing that had to be etched on her face.

  Stop it, she silently screamed at herself.

  This man was here for one reason and one reason only. To keep them safe. Not become a father and husband. She didn’t want a husband.

  Mikey needed a father, her heart shot back.

  Her lungs burned, forcing her to rise to the surface for air. Taking a gulping breath, she did the only thing she could. She sent up a silent prayer, releasing the burden of longing and need. God would provide what she and Mikey required in this life, when the time was right. Maybe God would put it on her heart to change her mind about remarrying. But for now, she’d settle for being grateful for the blessing of Anthony’s attention to Mikey and his willingness to protect them.

  That was all that could ever be between them.

  “You can hold your breath for a long time,” Anthony commented, his dark eyes searching her face. “I was about ready to come in after you.”

  His concern was sweet and touching and made her feel special. “I grew up with a pool in the backyard.”

  She climbed out of the water and dried off before slipping her clothes over her swimsuit. Anthony helped Mikey dry off and then the three of them went back to their motel rooms. Viv had insisted they get connecting rooms again so Anthony could rest and not have to sit in a chair all night. He would need his mind and reflexes sharp when they reached D.C.

  She’d just finished putting Mikey down, rubbing his back until he fell asleep, when she heard a moan from the adjoining room. A spear of panic pierced her. Her heart jumped and her mind ran through possible disasters. She grabbed the Taser from her bag and then cautiously pushed opened the connecting door, ready to zap a bad guy.

  Instead, she locked gazes with a shirtless Anthony. He sat on the end of the bed, his arm stalled over his head.

  She froze. Her pulse skittered and then thundered in her ears. Her gaze raked across his well-defined chest and caught on the nasty-looking scar marring the flesh between his collarbone and left shoulder. Empathy flooded her at the physical sign of injury.

  With a wince of pain, he lowered his arm. “You okay?”

  She swallowed, her mouth as dry as the desert. “I heard you groan. I thought…I thought something was wrong.”

  “Sorry. My shoulder’s tight today.”

  She lowered the Taser to her side. “How?”

  He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. “Remember I told you about the delegate from Kashmir? The bullet that killed him went through my shoulder first.”

  Her breath caught. No wonder he felt guilty for the Kashmir official’s death. But he’d done what he was supposed to. He’d tried to prevent a death at a cost to himself.

  Admiration and respect spread through her along with something else, something powerful and consuming. Affection?

  She could admit to that emotion easily enough, but that wasn’t what had her head spinning. There was more, so much more, but she shied away from looking too closely. She couldn’t. She didn’t dare
.

  Because there was no future in feeling anything else.

  And if she kept repeating that often enough she might actually begin to believe it.

  She met his gaze again. The intense flame of heat lighting the dark depths quickened her breath. She recognized the look; acknowledged the same smoldering fire burned within her. She wanted to give herself over to the attraction arcing between them. For once in her life she wanted to take, to be impulsive and rebellious. She wanted what she couldn’t have.

  With a small, wistful sigh she turned and fled, shutting the door firmly behind her. For Mikey’s sake.

  But deep down she really knew she was doing this for her own sake. Safety.

  Her spirit and her heart had been broken by her marriage. She’d survived thanks to Mikey. But she couldn’t afford to have that happen again.

  EIGHT

  The next morning arrived in a brilliant display of sun shine and cloudless blue skies. After a hasty breakfast at a roadside diner, Anthony pulled out onto the highway that would take them to their destination. Seven hours and four-hundred-odd miles later they reached D.C. Anthony rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the knots driving had formed. He squinted. The late-afternoon sun had already started its descent toward the horizon, its shimmering golden rays bounced off the white stone of the Jefferson Memorial.

  Bittersweet memories hit Anthony. He’d been so naive when he’d first hit town and caught sight of the many monuments and memorials representing everything he intended to protect. He’d been captivated by the history and sacrifice of the country he’d wanted to serve. Tried to serve.

  He’d relocated to D.C. to fulfill a dream. He’d left ten years later in disgrace.

  Would returning now with Viv and Mikey redeem him?

  Would anything ever make up for the mistake that had not only put an end to his dream but had cost the man he was protecting his life?

  It’s convenient and easy to blame God.

  Viv’s words bounced around his mind, making his soul ache.

  I cling to Him.