by Liz Johnson
Myles’s voice was quiet but firm. “Kenzie, you know everything that I do. Like I told you, I’m FBI. Someone at the prison wanted you dead. I was put there to protect you.”
Her eyes darted around the room, seeking a resting place other than his sincere gaze back at her. “I know, I know. But I need proof.” This was too hard to believe without actual evidence. In her heart she knew she was a Doubting Thomas, but hadn’t Christ compassionately offered proof to Thomas when he needed it most? She hoped Myles could drum up some compassion for her in her disbelief.
“What kind of proof do you want?” His eyes softened slightly.
“Something to prove you’re really in the FBI. Don’t you have a badge somewhere?”
He smiled and then shrugged. “Sure I do. It’s in the bureau office safe in Portland. I knew I’d be stripped of everything I took into the prison, and that my belongings would be searched, so I took nothing with me.” He shrugged again, and Kenzie could practically see him thinking. Finally the light bulb went on. With his chin, he pointed to the dresser. “In the bottom drawer. Under the clothes.”
She fumbled through the clothes, not sure what she should be looking for. Finally her hands landed on a piece of wood, and she yanked it free, revealing a golden trophy. Her eyebrows slowly arched up as she read the inscription on the trophy.
“Everyone in my office won one of those last year when the Portland office beat all the other FBI offices in the Northwest in the annual physical fitness competition.”
He wasn’t lying. It was spelled out right on the trophy’s inscription. “FBI Special Agent Myles Borden,” she read aloud. “Borden? But your name is Myles Parsons.”
“I couldn’t keep my real name while I was undercover, could I?”
“So you’re Myles Borden?”
“Yes.”
Her mind flashed to the Bible she’d held earlier that day. “As in Myles Joshua Borden?”
“As in Myles Justin Borden. I’m named after my two grandfathers. The other Myles Borden was my dad’s dad.”
She sounded completely dimwitted, and she knew it. “But—but don’t you have to have a law degree to be a special agent? You said you didn’t even have a GED!”
“Well, technically, I don’t have a GED.” He grimaced as he adjusted his knee. “I told you I got into the GED class because that’s where you were.”
There it was. She held all the proof she needed in her hands, regardless of how far-fetched it might be. She had to believe him now.
“Why didn’t you tell me before? In the car? At the prison?”
“I tried to tell you this morning in the woods. Before the mountain lion attack. You just wouldn’t believe me. And before that I was on strict orders not to tell you anything. Plus, I couldn’t trust that your car wasn’t bugged. You see, two weeks ago our field office received a tip from a friend of Special Agent in Charge Nate Andersen that you might be in danger. There was no way of verifying it, but Andersen is a strong believer in gut instincts. He felt there might be some merit to the tip, and he trusted the instincts of the tipster, so he assigned me to enter the prison, get assigned to your GED classes, keep an eye on you and find out what was going on.
“I made nice with the superintendent, and from there it was all pretty easy. The guards seemed to leave me alone, and I earned a reputation in the yard as someone not to mess with.”
“So, if you were all buddy-buddy with everyone, where did you get the—uh—black eye?” She gingerly touched the sensitive skin below her right eye.
He shrugged. “It’s a hazard of the job.”
“But wait, why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t Mac tell me!”
“We couldn’t afford the risk of tipping off the wrong people that the bureau is involved. No one knows. Not Mac, not the superintendent. No one.”
“Then why did you kidnap me?”
“I was told to.”
Her mouth dropped open as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together, her eyes slowly shifting from left to right and back again. “By whom?”
“Guard Whitestall waylaid me on my way to class yesterday. He gave me these clothes, a knife and a key to your car.” Myles produced the tiny silver object from his pocket and held it out to her. “He told me that I had to decide then and there if I was going to help him or not. If I didn’t, I’m sure that we both would be in serious danger. When I told him I would help him, Whitestall told me to sneak into your car and kidnap you. Then, when we got to a remote enough location, I was to take you out of the picture.”
“Take me out of the picture?” Her voice cracked, but she quickly pulled herself together, blood boiling in her veins. “He wanted you to kill me?”
“Yes.”
Mac always said that JB and his guards were tough. They had to be to work in the prisons. But Kenzie thought it likely that JB was more sinister than tough, and maybe Larry was, too. There was always a glint in JB’s eye that gave her goose bumps—that she took to mean Don’t test me. So she’d steered clear of him as much as possible in her two years at the prison. But now, memories flitted back to her. Scenes of JB and Larry in their element, intimidating inmates.
The frightened face of one of her students came to mind. She recalled a time that she entered her classroom to find the man sitting at his desk, surrounded by Superintendent Ryker, Larry and another guard she didn’t recognize.
“If you don’t do it, we’ll find someone else who will,” JB had seethed through clenched teeth.
Larry petted his enormous flashlight lovingly, and the other guard glared hard at the single inmate.
A smirk tweaked Larry’s less-than-handsome facial features, turning him into a frightening force. “You’ll be better off doing what the superintendent says. Think about your wife, Joe. And that pretty little girl of yours. Wouldn’t you like to see them again?”
The inmate launched out of his chair at the mention of his family, but the large hands of JB and the other guard helped him roughly back into his chair.
“You have twenty-four hours to make up your mind,” Larry said. “Choose wisely.”
With that thinly veiled threat, JB and the two guards spun and walked toward the door, where Kenzie stood rooted to the ground. “Good day, Ms. Thorn,” Larry mumbled, as he took his position by the classroom door. If they had been surprised by her presence in the room, none of the three men showed it.
Now Kenzie put her face into her palms, shaking her head. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Why didn’t she investigate JB and Larry’s actions toward her students? Why hadn’t she considered that she might be in danger because of them?
“But why kidnap me, when you had to know that Mac would hunt you? Why didn’t you just turn Larry in to the authorities and take me back to my family?”
“There’s something that runs a lot deeper here than just Whitestall wanting to have you taken care of. Part of my assignment is figuring out what that is and then fixing it. But my first priority is protecting you.”
“Oh, so that’s why you let the mountain lion attack you.” Why did I let that pop out? she chastised herself. Did she really want there to be another reason he would save her?
“Well, I don’t usually just sit around waiting to be prey for mountain lions,” Myles said, trying to lighten the mood. It suddenly felt too serious, and his throbbing leg was hurting enough that he needed something else to focus on, to smile about.
“Right.” She nodded, then turned her back on him.
Did she want him to admit that he would have protected her no matter what his assignment? Well, she wasn’t going to squeeze that out of him, no matter how sweet her smile or how soft her hand against his forehead. He had no intention of admitting that to himself, either.
“Something has that guard seriously spooked. I need to figure out what—or rather, who—that is. So tomorrow I’ll take you the safe house. You’ll be…Well, you’ll be safe there.” He sounded anything but articulate. This woman made him lose his ability
to speak.
“No.”
“No, what? I’m taking you to the safe house tomorrow. This isn’t a negotiation. I’m not taking you back to your family until we figure out what’s going on.”
“I’m not going to the safe house.” She was definitely in spicy mode.
Rats!
“And what do you propose you’ll do?” He would humor her before putting her in her place.
“I’m going with you.”
SEVEN
“No, you’re not.” Myles’s voice brooked no argument.
Kenzie planted her feet and stared directly into his eyes. “I’m going with you, and that’s final. It’s my life on the line, so I’m going.”
“Well, it’ll be my neck if anything happens to you.”
She shrugged and looked as disinterested as she could.
Myles massaged the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. “Listen, Kenzie, you can’t go traipsing across the state with me, trying to figure out who wants you dead and why. To start with, they have to believe you’re dead and that I’m out of the country, or they’ll never relax enough to get caught.”
She took a step toward him and was pleased with his slight recoil. “Myles, we’re going to do this together or not at all.”
“Not at all?” He grabbed his dark hair like he might rip it out by the roots. “You’re insane! You don’t get to make the decision on whether or not we—I mean, I—finish this assignment. I always complete my assignments. This won’t be my first failure just because you want to be difficult.”
“I’m not being difficult,” she said, keeping her tone as soft and even as she could. Maybe she should have eased him into this discussion and to the understanding that she would be joining him. After all, she’d already made the decision. It was final.
Pacify him. His face is getting red, really red. Just pacify him.
“Maybe you’re right. We should wait to make this decision until it has to be made. You’re in no shape to be moved.”
“Of course I’m right. Wait—but the decision has already been made. You’re not coming with me. Period. End of conversation.”
She smiled her sweetest smile. “Why don’t you get some more sleep, and we’ll talk when you get up.”
He yawned loudly then furrowed his brow. “You’re not coming. That’s all there is to it. Nothing else to discuss.”
“Get some rest and we’ll talk,” she said, smiling to herself.
Myles seemed unable to resist the sleep that once again claimed his body. He yawned again and mumbled something that she couldn’t understand as his eyes closed and his head tilted back onto the small pillow.
His nap bought her a little bit of time, but she needed to think fast. When he awoke, she needed to be ready to present a fail-proof argument, something better than her own need to join him. Somehow, she was sure that her gut feeling would not be enough to persuade him. What could she possibly say that would convince him that she must go with him?
God, is this feeling from You? I know that I need to go with Myles, and I think You have something in store for us. Show me how I can convince him that this is Your plan to help me get safely home.
She sat quietly listening, waiting for peace, for something that assured her that she was following God’s will.
When Myles finally woke hours later, Kenzie had her plan in place and the support from Lenora that she needed. While he had slept, Kenzie had explained as much as she could to the other woman.
“I knew he was up to something. But getting himself assigned to protect you from inside the prison? What a crazy scheme!” she said as she unpacked the brown paper bag filled with groceries. “My grandson is either a very brave man or a fool.”
Kenzie smiled. She definitely agreed he was one or the other. And if he didn’t take her with him to investigate, he was definitely the latter. After laying out her reasons for needing to go with him, Kenzie asked Lenora, “So, you see why I have to go, right?”
“Of course I do. But I won’t be able to convince him. You’ll have to do that on your own.”
“Oh, I will!” They remained silent for several moments before Kenzie could no longer contain the questions bombarding her mind. “How much did you know when Myles brought me to the cabin? Why didn’t you try to help me? I thought you didn’t care that I had been kidnapped. Why didn’t you tell me that Myles is a special agent?”
Lenora smiled, patting Kenzie’s shoulder affectionately. “Honey, I didn’t know anything about your situation except that I trust my grandson. Myles is a good man, trustworthy and caring. I knew he intended you no harm, and I figured he’d tell you he works for the FBI when the time was right. Would you have been ready to hear it when you first arrived here?”
“Absolutely.” Kenzie looked down at the thick socks on her feet. “Okay, maybe not right after we got here,” she conceded.
Lenora nodded knowingly. “Myles is a lot like my Myles, my husband. He was a take-charge man, and I see him every time Myles gets that unwavering look in his eyes. I trust my grandson with my life, and I would trust him with yours, as well. When he’s well enough to get out of that bed, he’ll do what he’s set out to do. He’ll finish this assignment, and he’ll keep you safe. After all, you already know he’s willing to risk his life for you.”
Kenzie swallowed thickly. She could barely manage to keep the burning at the back of her eyes from pouring tears down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure when she had become such an emotional mess, but everything had happened so fast that she could barely keep her emotions in check.
Lenora’s wrinkled hand squeezed hers. “You can trust him.”
“Thank you.”
Kenzie kept busy chatting with Lenora and helping her clean the little cabin as Myles napped into the evening. At almost ten o’clock, he groaned and turned to his left side, winced in his sleep, then rolled onto his back and groaned again. His eyes fluttered open then closed again.
While he was still half-asleep, Kenzie plopped down on the edge of the bed next to him and put her hands on his forearm.
“Myles,” she whispered. He grunted, glaring at her through eyelids open just a slit. “Myles, I have to go with you.”
“Nope. Don’t even think about it. I’m taking you to the safe house outside of Portland so that everyone will think that you’re dead, and I can go about figuring out who Whitestall was working for when he sent me after you.”
She wanted to stamp her foot. He was far too alert for having just woken up. Her argument needed to be more persuasive than she’d thought. What to do? What to say?
He tried to tug his arm free from her grasp, but she clung to him. Somewhere deep in her heart she knew that having a physical connection with him would increase her chances of changing his mind. As an added bonus, she felt safer, more protected when she touched him.
“But won’t you be recognized as an escaped prisoner?”
“I’ll figure someth—” He stifled another yawn—and compelled to copy him, Kenzie yawned widely, too. “I’ll figure it out.”
“But wouldn’t it be easier to have someone with you whose face isn’t all over the news?”
His eyebrows furrowed for a moment and the left side of his lips puckered. She was getting through to him. She just knew it. He was bound to understand her reasoning now. “Your face is probably in the news more than mine,” he said. “Haven’t you thought about how Mac will probably have your face plastered on every newscast, Internet site and milk carton across the country?”
Her jaw dropped. He was right. Why hadn’t she considered that her family would be frantic with worry? Mac and Nana would be taking time from the campaign trail to hunt for her. They would make public pleas to her kidnapper for her safe return, completely unaware that no harm would come to her as long as she stayed with Myles. She had not even considered how this scenario would impact the people in her life.
She pictured Mac sitting at his enormous wooden desk at the capital building in Salem: He runs his la
rge hand over his gray hair and studies the notes on a legal pad sitting before him. A knock on the door, and a young, naive clerk, face drawn tight, enters the office. The poor kid tells Mac that his only grandchild, the only child of his son who died more than twenty years before, Mac’s own Kenzie, was kidnapped the previous night. Mac stands up so fast that his plush leather chair crashes to the floor, and he roars with anger. The poor clerk ducks his head and slips out the door.
Suddenly Kenzie let go of Myles’s arm and covered her mouth with both hands. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and instead nearly choked on a hysterical sob. The entire crazy situation would make her lose her mind. She knew that look that she imagined on Mac’s face. And she was certain that the image of that poor clerk was close to the reality.
Myles looked more than confused at the noise she’d released. He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder, but she turned from him.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She couldn’t respond through her emotional outburst.
“Kenzie. Talk to me. What’s going on?” The mattress shifted as he wiggled to a sitting position.
When she could finally compose herself, she looked into his steady blue eyes and said, “Don’t you understand how utterly crazy this entire situation is? My grandparents are probably frantic about my disappearance. I’m the only family they have left, and I’ve been kidnapped.
“I thought about leaving you—wounded—in the forest. But you saved my life, so I dragged you back to the cabin. Then you proceed to tell me that you’re really an FBI agent. But even though you’re a good guy—” she punctuated those two words with finger quotes in the air “—you’re going to stash me away in a safe house and not let me contact my grandparents, who are likely going insane with worry.”
He nodded stiffly.
“How am I supposed to react? It’s all so crazy. I can’t just sit back and do nothing while my family is worried to death about me. I have to do something to get us closer to the truth. Besides, you’re trying to find someone who’s after me. Wouldn’t I be your best resource to find whoever has a grudge against me?”
