Deadly Vows

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Yeah.” But agreeing didn’t make it so. Maybe there’d been a mistake. Or maybe the Martinos had found her.

  Found her? Of course they hadn’t found her.

  If they had, she’d be dead.

  Jeb was right. The van and delivery were simply a mix-up. Nothing sinister or scary about them at all.

  “You okay, doll?” Jeb asked, and Olivia forced herself to smile and nod. Nothing was going on. Nothing that couldn’t be explained. She really did need to stop jumping at shadows and imagining Martinos around every corner.

  “I’m fine. I’d better head out, though.”

  “Don’t work too hard. A lady in your condition needs her rest.”

  “My condition?” Olivia paused with her hand on the door to her car. She hadn’t told anyone in Pine Bluff about the pregnancy. Though she’d shared with a few people in Billings, discussing the baby inevitably led to questions about the baby’s father. Questions Olivia couldn’t answer with any amount of truthfulness.

  “Now, don’t be worrying that I’ll tell every Tom, Dick and Harry about it, but I’ve been around enough pregnant women to know one when I see one.”

  “I—” Olivia glanced down at the slight swelling of her stomach. Was it really that noticeable?

  “Besides. I saw the pregnancy book on your table when you had me in for coffee the other day. I suppose it’s that no-good ex-husband’s child.”

  “Yes.” She barely kept herself from correcting Jeb, from telling him that she wasn’t divorced and that Ford wasn’t no-good. That he was just too caught up in making money to care much about creating a family.

  Or about her.

  “Well, it’s your business when you tell other people, but if you need anything, I’m right next door.”

  “Thanks, Jeb.” Olivia got in the car and started the engine, her hand shaking. In Pine Bluff, keeping to herself was nearly impossible. The town was small, the people friendly and curious about the newcomer in their midst. Being standoffish or closed-mouthed would only make them talk about her more and that was the last thing Olivia wanted.

  Blend in.

  She could hear the words that had been pounded into her from the moment she’d agreed to enter the witness protection program. Don’t do anything that is going to get you noticed.

  That was a lot easier said than done when you were single and pregnant in small-town America. Soon, the little bulge of her stomach was going to grow. The baby that she’d been able to hide up to this point wouldn’t be hidden any longer. When that happened, people would talk.

  But, please, God, don’t let any of Martino’s men be around to hear it.

  The sun dipped below distant mountains as Olivia drove across town, shrouding streets and alleys in shadows. As always, the darkness brought memories. The gun. The explosion of sound as it was fired point-blank into another man’s head. Vincent Martino’s cold face illuminated by moonlight. No matter how hard Olivia fought to let go of her old life, she couldn’t rid herself of it. Perhaps that was why she felt so on edge, so nervous.

  Streetlights did little to dispel the darkness or to chase away the memories, and Olivia was tense with anxiety as she pulled into the parking lot at the Y.

  Housed in an old warehouse, the building was long and narrow, the parking lot large. A few cars were parked near the building, and Olivia pulled in close, hesitating a moment before opening her door. Maybe she should quit teaching at the Y, quit waitressing and lock herself in her house until the marshals came to take her to Vincent Martino’s trial.

  Go about your daily life as if nothing has changed. Keep up the appearance of normalcy. Don’t give anyone a reason to think you have something to hide.

  “Easy for you to say, Micah. You’re not the one with the price on your head,” she murmured as she forced herself to open the door and step out of the car. Evenings in Pine Bluff, Montana, had a richness to them. The sky seemed ripe with starlight, the distant mountains fading into deep azure sky. God’s creation, filled with wonder and beauty, but Olivia could find no comfort in it.

  She hurried toward the building, her pulse jumping as something scraped on the pavement behind her.

  She didn’t want to turn to look.

  Then again, she didn’t want to die with her back to her killer.

  She whirled, ready to face down the threat, but the parking lot was empty of life.

  Olivia took a step back, her eyes probing the shadows. Was someone there, waiting and watching? A U.S. Marshal, maybe? Or someone worse?

  Skin crawling, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, Olivia took another step back and then turned and ran toward the building. She yanked the door open with enough force to send it crashing against the wall and bounded into the foyer, her breath heaving, her heart racing.

  “No need for quite that much of a hurry. You’ve got ten minutes before the class starts,” Lorna Scott said, peering out of the office. Sixty, with short, dark hair cut into a pixie style, Lorna eyed Olivia with curiosity. “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine. Everything is fine. The door just got away from me.”

  Lorna raised a dark eyebrow, but didn’t comment. What could she say, short of calling Olivia a liar? “I’m glad you got here a little early. I need to talk to you about something. Come on in the office.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Someone was here looking for you. He said he was your husband,” she said quietly, but the words seemed to fill the room, stealing Olivia’s breath.

  She swayed, grabbing a chair to steady herself. “That’s impossible.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not. He arrived just a half hour after I called you. Said his name was Ford, showed me a picture of you and asked if you worked here. I would have called to let you know, but I figured you were already on your way here.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That you didn’t work here. Can’t say the lie sat very well, but I wasn’t sure what kind of relationship you two had. I figured if he was the ex you told me about, you might not want him to know where you worked.”

  “I appreciate it, Lorna.”

  “Your private life is your private life. Besides, the guy looked a little dangerous. I was anxious to get him out of the building.”

  “Dangerous? Ford?” Olivia never would have described him as that. Successful, confident, too handsome for his own good, those were more apt descriptions.

  “Maybe it was just the scar. You know how that is. Guy’s got a scar on his face, he looks dangerous whether he is or not.”

  “Ford doesn’t have a scar.”

  “Well, this guy did. On his right cheek. Didn’t distract from his good looks, but it sure did make me wonder how he got it.”

  “It couldn’t have been Ford, then.” Which meant someone else had come to the Y looking for Olivia. Someone with a photograph of her.

  “Maybe not, but someone was here, and it was you he was looking for. Want me to call the police?”

  “No. That’s okay. Listen, I hate to do this, but I’m not up to teaching tonight after all.”

  Lorna nodded, not bothering to ask why, not commenting again on the scarred man. She must have known things weren’t right with Olivia. Maybe she’d even begun to suspect that the things Olivia had shared were only partial truths. “That’s all right. I’ll find someone else.”

  “Thanks.” Olivia hurried from the office, her mind racing. She needed to get in the car and drive as fast and as far from Pine Bluff as she could. Once she put some distance between herself and the town, she’d call Micah and let him know that she’d been found.

  She unlocked the car, started to pull the door open.

  “Olivia?” The voice shivered through the darkness, gritty and deep and as familiar as her own.

  Ford. Her husband. The father of her child. The man she’d tried so hard to forget during her four months in witness protection. Behind her. Waiting for her to turn and face him.

  Not the kind of danger she’d e
xpected, but danger nonetheless.

  “If you get in the car and drive away, I’ll just follow you.” There was little emotion in the words, just a cold statement of fact.

  She could turn around and face him now or she could run and face him later. Either way, she’d have to deal with him. Ford never gave up on something he wanted, never stopped pushing for a win. This time, though, the drive to succeed might cost him more than he bargained for. If Olivia didn’t convince him to go back to Chicago, it might cost them both their lives.

  TWO

  Every muscle in Ford Jensen’s body tensed with anticipation as Olivia slowly turned to face him. It had been four months since he’d last seen his wife, four months that he’d spent hounding FBI agents and U.S. Marshals, trying to get a lead on Olivia’s whereabouts. He’d finally found her, and he wanted to rush forward and pull her into his arms, but he knew she wouldn’t thank him if he did. Just as he knew she wouldn’t thank him for finding her. He’d broken one too many promises, ignored her one too many times. When she’d called to tell him she’d seen a murder and that she was entering witness protection, she’d said it was for the best. A clean break.

  It hadn’t been clean for Ford. It had been painful, filled with regrets and rife with a million lost opportunities.

  “Ford. You shouldn’t be here,” she said quietly, her hand resting on the door of a dark blue Ford.

  “But I am.”

  “I’ve got some dangerous people after me. You don’t want to get caught up in my troubles.”

  “I already am. I have been from the night you called to tell me you planned to disappear from my life.” He walked toward her, letting the streetlight fall on his face.

  She frowned, her gaze dropping to his cheek and the ridge of scar tissue that bisected it. “The Martino family did that to you?”

  “That’s not important.”

  “Of course it is. We may not be together anymore, but I still care about you, and I’d hate to think that you were hurt because of me.”

  “Maybe the fact that you feel that way means we should still be together.”

  “I care, Ford. I’ve never pretended otherwise, but we both know it’s not enough. Pouring love into you is like pouring it into a black hole. It’s never filled and it never returns what it takes.”

  “No need to hold your punches, Liv. Why not tell me exactly how you feel?” But she was right, that was exactly how it had been. Olivia giving affection and love. Ford taking it. He hadn’t meant it to be that way, hadn’t even realized it was that way until she’d walked out of their Chicago penthouse nearly fourteen months ago.

  “If being blunt will get you back in your car and back in Chicago, that’s what I’ll be.”

  “It won’t.” He moved toward her, searching her face, wondering about the dark circles beneath her eyes, the hollows in her cheeks. Was she eating right? Sleeping well?

  “Please, Ford, don’t make this difficult. You being here has put both of us in danger. I’ve made a clean break from my old life, started a new one. I can’t have that jeopardized by your presence.”

  “And you think I’m just going to walk away and leave you to face Vincent Martino’s trial alone?” he asked, knowing that was probably what she did think. He’d walked away plenty during their marriage, left her alone more times than he cared to admit. Maybe God hadn’t completely given up on Ford, because the second chance he’d been praying for was happening. A second chance to love Olivia the way she deserved to be loved, to create the home she’d often talked about. The one he’d stopped believing in the day his alcoholic father had walked out and left him and his three siblings to care for their drug-addicted mother. A home filled with love and laughter.

  “You don’t have a choice. Neither do I. The U.S. Marshals have made it clear that I’m to have no contact with anyone from my previous life. Not you. Not my parents. Not my friends. Not the people I worked with. No one.”

  “There’s something you and the marshals seem to have forgotten. I’m not part of your previous life. You and I are still married.”

  “We’ve been separated for over a year.”

  “We’ve been separated for less than four months. Or have you conveniently forgotten what happened in December.” The words were out before Ford could stop them, and he regretted them immediately.

  Olivia stiffened, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt before she turned away.

  “Liv—”

  But she was already opening the door and sliding into her car.

  He grabbed the door before she could close it. “Olivia, I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

  “What way would have been right?” she asked, then sighed and shook her head. “Never mind. I’ve got to go call my contact in the marshals. He’ll want to know you’ve found me. If he doesn’t already.”

  “If he doesn’t, I’m going to want to know why not.”

  “There’s no need to get macho and protective, Ford. The marshals have done a great job of keeping me safe so far. I’m sure they’re not shirking their duty now.”

  “Two women in witness protection have been murdered in the past few months. Someone somewhere is shirking his duty.” The fact that both women had the hair like Olivia’s had made Ford all the more desperate to find her. There was no doubt Vincent Martino’s family planned to silence Olivia. They’d nearly killed Ford trying to find out where she was. Whether or not they’d mistaken the other two women for Olivia was something the FBI and the U.S. Marshals refused to speculate on. At least in their conversations with Ford.

  “Micah told me two women had been killed, but I’m not sure their deaths mean the Marshals aren’t doing their jobs.”

  “Micah McGraw?” Ford had spoken to him several times, but the way Olivia said the guy’s name made him sound like an old friend rather than someone being paid to keep her safe. The surge of jealousy he felt at the thought was as unwelcome as the guilt that had been eating at him since Olivia had run from her Chicago home and disappeared into the night while he discussed a real estate venture with an associate. He’d hung up the phone and tried to follow, but she’d been long gone before he’d managed to get out the front door. If he’d ignored his cell phone when it rang, if he’d refused to take the call, Olivia wouldn’t have been out walking beside the river when Vincent Martino committed cold-blooded murder.

  “Yes. Micah is my contact, and he’s not going to be happy to know I hung around chatting with you when I should have been home packing. Thanks for caring enough to search for me, Ford, but as you can see, I’m fine.” She offered a quick smile, started to shut the door, but he held it open, leaning in so he could look in her eyes.

  “I’m not walking out of your life, Olivia.”

  “Why not? You were happy enough to let me walk out of yours fourteen months ago. Besides, our marriage has been over for a long time. What happened after Christmas was a mistake. It’s best if we both forget it.” She pulled the door from his hand, the sharp retort as she slammed it echoing through the parking lot.

  Maybe Olivia was right. Maybe it was best if they both forgot what had happened in December. If they moved on with their lives, moved forward with the divorce that had seemed so inevitable when she’d packed a bag and walked out of their penthouse.

  Maybe, but Ford didn’t think so.

  It took him several seconds to cross the parking lot and get into his car. By the time he started the engine, Olivia was pulling out onto the street, her blue Ford disappearing from view. He followed, thankful that they were driving through the small town of Pine Bluff rather than Chicago. No way would he have been able to keep her in sight otherwise. As much as he’d always loved city life, he had to admit there were benefits to the small towns and rural communities he’d visited during his search for Olivia. Slower pace of life, quieter atmospheres, people who noticed what was going on in their communities and who cared. If not for them, Ford wouldn’t have known he was on the right track when he began searching for Ol
ivia in Montana. The fact that two women who resembled Olivia had been murdered in the state had been reason enough to go there, but it wasn’t until he’d shown Olivia’s photograph to a few people in Billings who’d recognized her that Ford knew he should keep searching there.

  Olivia pulled into the driveway of a 1920s bungalow, and Ford parked behind her, getting out of his car as she hurried to her front door. There was no doubt that she’d rather he leave, but Ford couldn’t. There was too much history between them, too much love buried beneath layers of resentment and pain. He wasn’t willing to give that up any more than he was willing to let Olivia face the danger she was in alone.

  “Go home, Ford.” Olivia shoved the key in the lock as he stepped onto the porch, her long dark hair falling across her face and hiding her expression.

  “I can’t.” It was the truth.

  He’d nearly been killed the day after Olivia went into witness protection. Martino’s men had been brutal in their questioning. When he’d woken in the hospital, his only thought had been finding Olivia and making sure she was safe. It had taken him months to do it, but he’d finally succeeded, and there was no way he was going to walk away.

  “Sure you can. Turn around, get back in the car and drive to Chicago.”

  “And forget that you’re in danger? Forget that Chicago’s most well-known crime family wants you dead?”

  “You don’t have to forget anything. You just have to remember that we’re nothing to each other.” She glanced over her shoulder as she stepped into the house, her expression hard, her gaze steely.

  What had happened to the twenty-year-old with dreams in her eyes? The one who’d laughed when he’d nearly knocked her over while hurrying to an accounting class? She’d been dressed for ballet, her hair in a tight bun, a knit dress hugging her slender frame. Ford had picked up the books that had spilled from her arms, looked into her eyes and decided that being late for accounting class wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  “Nothing? You used to tell me I was everything to you.”

  “You were. That was the problem. You were everything to me, and I was—”