Ford scowled, letting his fingers tangle with the silky ends of Olivia’s hair. If she felt his touch, she didn’t comment. Just stayed where she was, head down, eyes closed.
Ford wanted to believe she’d be safe, that God would continue to intervene. Wanted to believe. Struggled to believe. Faith wasn’t the easy thing he’d imagined it to be when he’d watched Olivia head off to church Sunday after Sunday. It wasn’t simply blind belief or uneducated speculations. It was a soul deep longing for something beyond self. It was a desperate need to connect with the Creator.
But it was also an understanding of just how inconsequential one human life was. In the grand scheme of the world’s stories, Ford’s and Olivia’s wasn’t such a bad one. If they died tonight, at least they’d known love and passion. They’d had careers and friends and as much happiness as anyone had a right to.
Maybe that’s why Ford struggled to believe that God would care enough to step in and save them.
Did one life matter so much to a God who held every life in His hands?
A few months ago, Ford would have scoffed at the idea. Now he wondered if he’d been wrong all along. If maybe the God who’d seemed too distant to care was really much closer than Ford had imagined.
He took a deep breath, trying to still his thoughts. He’d spent his life planning and strategizing, but there was no plan for what he and Olivia were going through. No way to know what was going to come next. All Ford could do was wait and pray and trust that the God he’d once doubted, was working hard to keep Olivia and their baby safe.
EIGHT
Olivia kept her eyes closed as the car sped through the dark night. Ford’s shoulder was warm and firm beneath her cheek, his hand tangled in her hair as it had done so many times during their marriage. If she let herself, she could almost pretend that they were simply taking a ride together.
Almost.
But the ride was anything but simple, and together wasn’t a word she wanted to use to describe her relationship with Ford.
So why are you resting against his shoulder as if he were some kind of knighted hero?
Olivia scowled and straightened in her seat. She might be tired and scared, but that didn’t mean she should be leaning on Ford.
“So, they did this every time they relocated you?” He asked, his voice rumbling above the quiet chug of the motor, his arm pressed against hers.
“Yes. It took us nearly two days to get from Billings to Pine Bluff,” she responded, wishing that she dared scoot away from Ford. If she did, he would notice, and he’d know exactly why she’d done it. Because being near him still made her pulse race and her cheeks heat. It still made her want to lean in close, inhale the masculine scent of his cologne. It made her long to believe in his sweet words and gentle kisses.
And doing any of those things would be a mistake.
“Two days to get a couple of hundred miles. You must have been happy to arrive in Pine Bluff,” he continued, completely unaware of her thoughts. She hoped.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“This one won’t be either. And I’m fairly certain the trip won’t take two days. Will it, McGraw?” The agent sitting beside Olivia broke into the conversation. She’d told Olivia her name before they’d gotten into the car. What had it been? Jenna? Jessica?
“Not unless we run into trouble,” McGraw said.
“Why would we?” Marshal Lawrence cut in, and Olivia was relieved to have her conversation with Ford ended.
“No reason, but the way things have gone lately, I want to be prepared for anything.” McGraw glanced in the review mirror as he exited the freeway.
Did he see someone following?
If he did, would he say something?
Olivia turned in her seat, bumping into the FBI agent. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been in tighter spaces than this and had a lot worse done to me than a bump on the arm,” she responded, flashing straight white teeth and a winning smile. “Besides, if we weren’t packed in like sardines we wouldn’t be crowding each other. You couldn’t find us a bigger ride, McGraw?”
“I was more concerned about keeping a low profile than getting a more comfortable ride,” Micah said wryly.
“How much longer are you planning to drive us around in circles?” Ford asked, and Olivia chanced a glance in his direction. He was staring her way, his eyes black and unreadable in the darkness.
At some point they’d have to talk about the future. Really talk. But now wasn’t the time, and she looked away, staring toward the front of the car, and praying they’d reach their destination soon.
“As long as it takes to assure ourselves that you’ll be safe in the house we’ve got lined up,” Micah responded to Ford’s question, seemingly unperturbed by the subtle needling.
“You thought Olivia would be safe in Pine Bluff. You thought the two women who were murdered would be safe.”
“Ford—”
“It’s okay, Olivia. I’d feel the same way if it was my wife who’d nearly been killed.” Micah smiled into the rearview mirror, and Olivia relaxed back into the seat. “The fact is, we’re doing everything we can to make sure you’re both safe. That’s all we can promise.”
“And if it’s not enough?” Ford pressed, and McGraw shrugged.
“Then we’ll have given everything and it won’t have been enough.”
He didn’t have to say what he meant. Olivia could see it vividly in her mind—Martino’s thugs firing on the safe house and everyone in it, taking out the marshals and then quickly silencing Olivia.
She shuddered, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.
“Cold?” Ford asked, and she shook her head.
“I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s been a long night. I just want to get wherever we’re going and get settled in.”
“Looks like your wish is about to come true,” Micah said as he turned into a quiet neighborhood of 1920s homes. The yards were well kept, the streets lined with mature trees. It reminded Olivia of the Chicago neighborhood she’d lived in and the little bungalow she’d been renting after she and Ford had separated. It hadn’t been fancy or new, but it had suited her in a way their penthouse never had.
“The safe house is in a neighborhood?” Ford sounded incredulous, and Olivia almost smiled. He’d probably been expecting something that looked more like an armed fortress.
“The best place to hide someone is right in plain sight. As long as the Martino crime family doesn’t get wind of where Olivia is, she’s safe.”
“And if they do?”
“We’re prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure she makes it to the trial,” said the agent sitting beside Olivia.
“And after that?”
“You’ll be relocated. This time, to a place you’ll be able to stay,” Micah responded, as he turned into a wide cul-de-sac and pulled into the driveway of a two-story Victorian farmhouse. There were neighbors on both sides. Smaller houses that looked to be late-twenties in design. A few large trees hugged the sides and back of the house, but the expansive front yard was barren, the driveway long. At some point in its past, a garage had been added to the side of the house and the door opened as they approached.
“Looks like we’re here,” Ford muttered, his hand resting on Olivia’s knee. His touch was as comforting as a down blanket on a frigid night, and Olivia didn’t even pretend she wanted to move away. She was scared and tired, and she figured tomorrow was soon enough to reestablish the distance between them.
Micah inched the car forward and into the dark garage. No lights turned on, and Olivia shivered in the darkness, memories stealing her thoughts. Old ones of a dark figure, an explosive shot and a man dying quickly. New ones of another explosion, flames, heart-pounding fear.
Ford squeezed her knee, flashing her a smile she could see despite the dim light. “It’s okay. We’ve made it, and we’re safe.”
Safe?
Safe was Christmas morning spent with family. Safe was a quiet evening alone, a good book in her hand. Safe was not driving into the garage of a safe house she’d be staying in for the next three weeks.
She didn’t say that.
What would be the point?
For the moment, they were free of danger. That would have to be enough.
“Sorry about the darkness, but there’s no sense announcing our late arrival to the neighbors,” Micah said. He didn’t add, “or to anyone else who might be watching,” but Olivia felt the words, could almost feel invisible eyes watching as the garage door slid back down, cutting them off from the last vestiges of moonlight.
“We’ve got three marshals here for the night. Plus Agent Parker and Marshal Louis who will escort you into the house.”
Agent Jessie Parker.
That was the woman’s name.
“You’re not staying?” Olivia asked, knowing it didn’t matter. Whether or not Micah McGraw was at the scene the next few days and nights, things would play out the way they were meant to. Vincent Martino’s henchmen would find the house, or they wouldn’t, and not knowing which it would be made Olivia shiver again.
“I’m afraid not. We’ve got a meeting to discuss your safety later today. All members of the task force are required to attend unless they’re specifically assigned to you.”
“Thank you, Micah.”
“There’s no need for thanks. You’re doing the right thing, something a lot of people would be afraid to do, and we’re here to make sure you’re not punished for it.” He smiled, nodding toward Agent Parker. “Agent Parker will make sure you have whatever you need. She’s also assigned to escort you to the doctor Monday morning.”
“Doctor? I don’t need—”
“For peace of mind. It’s not just you and Ford we need to protect. There’s a baby to think about.”
At the word baby, Ford’s hand tightened on Olivia’s knee. Obviously, the mere mention of being a father was making him uncomfortable.
Olivia wanted to resent that, but she was too tired to do more than notice it. “I appreciate that.”
“I’ll see you in a couple of days when shifts change,” Marcus said, and Agent Parker opened the car door, climbed out and stretched. There were still no lights on, but moonlight filtered in from a large window on the side wall, illuminating a space that was bare but for the Cadillac.
Olivia scooted across the seat, stepped out into cool stale air, her heart pounding in the same hard, quick tempo as it had every time she’d been relocated. Each new place had its dangers. Each move was another opportunity for Martino’s men to find her.
“Special Agent McGraw has assured me this place is habitable, but we’ll see what we find when we get inside,” Agent Parker said, taking Olivia’s arm and steering her toward a door near the back of the garage.
“At this point, I don’t care what it looks like inside. I’m just happy to be out of the car,” Olivia responded as the door swung open.
Light spilled into her eyes, blinding her for a second as a deep voice said, “Watch your step, ma’am.”
A calloused hand grabbed hers, holding tight as she stepped over the threshold and into a well-lit kitchen. Olivia glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see Ford, but the door closed again.
“Where’s Ford?” Olivia asked, taking an unconscious step back the way she’d come.
“He’ll be in shortly,” Agent Parker responded, her hand tightening on Olivia’s arm as if the agent expected her to make a break for it.
“Marshal McGraw probably wanted to ask him a few questions.” The same deep-voiced man who’d tugged Olivia across the threshold from the garage spoke again, and Olivia turned to face him.
Tall, with the broad shoulders of a body builder, he had dark pock-marked skin and a quick smile. “I’m Marshal Samson. Levi.”
“Nice to meet you, Marshal—”
“Call me Levi. We’ll be spending a lot of time together these next few days. Want something to eat? The team stocked up before you got here. I think we’ve got just about anything you might want. Eggs. Bacon.”
“Bread? Luncheon meat? Because I’m half-starved,” Agent Parker said, walking to the refrigerator and pulling it open.
“We’ve got that. Milk. Good for a growing baby,” Levi continued, his gaze dropping briefly to Olivia’s stomach.
She blushed, but didn’t care. She was too busy going back over what she’d been told. Ford was still in the car being questioned by Micah. Why?
And why did she care?
If Micah drove away with Ford still in the car, wouldn’t it be better? Olivia would continue through the Witness Protection Program alone the way she had been for the past few months; she’d have that clean break she kept pretending she wanted.
Pretending?
She wasn’t pretending.
She frowned, walking to a small table and sitting in a chair there, refusing to ask any more questions about why Ford had still not emerged from the garage.
“Want a sandwich?” Agent Parker glanced Olivia’s way, and she shook her head.
“No, thanks.”
“Are you sure? You’ve got to nourish the baby. Even if you don’t feel hungry, she might be,” Levi said, taking a seat across from Olivia and watching her with warm brown eyes. “My wife just had a baby. A little girl with curly black hair just like her mother’s.”
“As opposed to a bald head like yours?” Parker quipped as she carried her sandwich to the table and joined them.
“Hey, it takes a lot of work to get handsome like this, Parker.” Levi ran a hand over his smooth head and grinned. Both acted as if they’d known each other for years. Maybe they had.
But Olivia didn’t know either, and sitting at table with them, pretending that she wasn’t still in danger, pretending she didn’t care that Ford still hadn’t walked into the room, made her stomach tighten with anxiety.
Watching Agent Parker take the first bite of sandwich only made it worse. The strong scent of mustard seemed to waft across the table, and it was all Olivia could do not to gag.
She rose, smiling wanly as Levi and Agent Parker eyed her with concern. “I’m sorry, but it’s been a really long day, and I’d like to get settled into my room. If that’s okay.”
Agent Parker frowned, setting her sandwich down on the table. “I should have thought of that. Sorry. I’m a night owl, so it’s still early for me. Your room is upstairs. Come on, and I’ll show you.”
“Thanks. Good night, Levi,” Olivia called as she followed Agent Parker from the kitchen, the tight, sick feeling in her stomach remaining.
Where was Ford?
Why hadn’t he come inside yet?
She shoved the questions aside, refusing to acknowledge them as she and Agent Parker walked through a dining room and living room, stepped into a two-story foyer. A crystal chandelier illuminated a staircase and the large sitting area at the top of it.
“I’ll be in a room across from yours, so if you need anything during the night, don’t hesitate to give me a holler.”
“I should be fine, Agent Parker.”
“Jessie. And I’m sure you will be, but we’re two women in a house full of men, so we’ve got to stick together, right?” She smiled over her shoulder as she hurried up the stairs.
Olivia followed, hesitating at the top and smiling at a man who sat in a chair in a dark corner of the sitting area. “Hello.”
He nodded a greeting, but didn’t seem inclined to say anything. There were two doors to the left of the sitting area and one to the right. Jessie moved to the right, shoving open the door and motioning for Olivia to come closer. “This room is yours. Looks like they’ve got it decked out okay.”
Olivia stepped inside and glanced around, her stomach still churning. The room was just large enough to fit a queen-sized bed, a dresser and bedside table. A door led to a 1920s bathroom, the clawfoot tub, subway tile and square sink visible from where Olivia stood. “It’s great.”
“I was thinking it was a little rustic,” Jessie responded, stepping into the bathroom and pulling open a medicine cabinet that hung above the sink. “They did manage to remember toothpaste, toothbrush and soap, so that’s good. We can send someone out to grab anything else you need tomorrow. The house is safe, but stay away from the windows. Just in case.”
“I will.”
“Good. Like I said, holler if you need anything,” she stepped out into the hall, offering a quick smile and wave before she shut the door.
Olivia dropped down onto the bed, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and the little voice in her head that kept asking why Ford hadn’t been allowed to follow her into the house.
Trying.
Failing.
Was the car still in the garage? Was Ford still in it? Would he be driven off somewhere, put through a briefing that would prepare him to go into witness protection and then sent off to another state to begin a new life without Olivia?
It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did.
There’d been so many times during the past fourteen months when she’d longed to see Ford, to talk to him, to be wrapped in his strong arms. For twelve of her thirty-three years, he’d been part of her life, and being separated from him had been more painful than anything she’d ever experienced. When she’d walked out of their Chicago penthouse, she’d felt as if part of her heart had been ripped out.
But staying had seemed so much more difficult than leaving.
Playing second fiddle to Ford’s work, giving up her own dreams to accommodate his, in the end, losing herself for the sake of her marriage hadn’t worked. She’d had to leave or she risked a slow fade into the ugly morass of resentment. Eventually, hate.
Toward herself for putting up with Ford’s indifference.
Toward Ford for being indifferent.
She stood, knowing she needed to put Ford out of her mind. Thinking about him and their past wouldn’t accomplish anything. She pulled open the dresser drawers, eyeing the clothes that someone had placed there, but Olivia didn’t have the energy to change out of her T-shirt and jeans. Instead, she pulled off her jacket and returned to the bed. Settled down again, this time lying with her head on the pillow. Light still on, she closed her eyes.
Deadly Vows Page 8
