by The Witness
It was a halcyon time for Lauren. She was in love, and though Sam hadn't said the words, as the days passed she began to suspect—to hope—that he loved her, too. His actions certainly said he did. Every touch, every kiss spoke of a depth of feeling that sent her dreams soaring.
There were times when Lauren caught Sam watching her in that intense way he had, and the proprietary gleam in his eyes always made her heart give a little bump.
She had Sam, she had her music, she had the love of his family and the admiration of his mother's people. Zeta and Annie were teaching her how to cook, and Sam's grandmother told her endless Navajo stories and legends and instructed her on their customs and culture.
There were problems on the reservation, to be sure. There was poverty, unemployment, a lack of many services and amenities that were taken for granted on the outside. And there was alcoholism among some, which often led to abuse and hostilities. Yet, on the whole, life on the reservation was pleasant—slow and simple and undemanding, and after that first frenetic week on the run with Sam, Lauren took to the tranquility like a duck to water.
Carlo Giovessi's slick lawyers had gotten the trial postponed twice—no doubt to give his henchmen more time to locate her. It was now scheduled for the end of May.
Every time the trial was pushed back it seemed a little less real to Lauren. So much so that she could sometimes go for hours, even whole days, without remembering what had brought her to the reservation.
She felt safe among Sam's relatives. As winter gave way to spring she thought less and less about the trial or what would happen when it came time to leave. She was content and happy with life as it was.
Only a handful of people had Sam's new cellphone number—his father, his aunt and uncle, and Edward Stanhope. When the telephone chirped one afternoon in late May, Sam instinctively knew who it was.
He had been helping Larry tune the engine on his pickup and had just come inside to fetch them both something to drink when the call came through. Sam put the cans of soft drink he had just pulled from the refrigerator on the counter, fished the phone out of his shirt pocket and flipped it open.
It wasn't unusual for Edward to call. He and Sam talked four or five times a week, but even before Sam pressed the power button, a premonition told him what was coming.
"Yeah?" Sam said without preamble.
"The trial is still set for Monday morning."
Wincing, Sam cupped the back of his neck and rubbed the tense muscles there. He glanced toward the living room. Lauren was playing a dreamy piece that floated on the air like elegant notes of purest gold. "You said just yesterday that the defense was trying for another postponement," Sam growled.
"The judge has had it with the constant postponements. All systems are go. You need to have Lauren in Denver by eight Monday morning."
"Yeah, I know."
Sam turned off the telephone and slipped it back into his pocket, but for several moments after that he just stood there, his expression thoughtful. Finally he ambled over to the door that led into the living room. Leaning his shoulder against the frame, he watched Lauren play.
She was never more beautiful than when she was playing the piano. The music seemed to give her an inner glow, as though it lit up her very soul. She was totally absorbed, her nimble fingers dancing over the keys, her eyes closed.
Damn, he hated to break the news to her.
The truth was, he was in love with her, and he had no idea what to do about it.
Sam studied her elegant profile. He didn't want to lose her. Maybe...maybe he just wouldn't tell her about Edward's call. Maybe they just wouldn't show up for the trial. Why should they risk their lives?
Why not stay? he asked himself. For the first time in his life, he was at peace. Finally, he and his father were coming to understand each other and were developing a relationship. Lauren felt safe and she seemed happy. As for him, he would prefer to return to the ranch, but he could adapt to this life.
Sam was even certain that his father would understand, given the circumstances. If they stayed put, no one would find them. They could just disappear.
Lauren's piece ended. She opened her eyes, then jumped when she saw Sam standing in the doorway, watching her. "Sam. I didn't know you were there." Then she took a good look at his expression, and her smile faded. "What? What is it?"
"I just received a call from Edward. We have to be in Denver by Monday morning for the trial. It's time to work out a plan."
The group of twenty or so Native Americans approaching the Federal Courthouse in their native dress drew only curious looks from others as they passed on the street. The citizens of Denver were too sophisticated to gape.
"There are Federal Marshals on either side of the main entrance. Stay calm and ignore them," Sam murmured under his breath from the center of the group. He kept one arm around Lauren and the other hand near the revolver in his hip holster, hidden beneath his shirt. His hair had grown long during the last four months while they were on the reservation. It now hung below his shoulders, and his skin was several shades darker from the sun. He wore his moccasins and a felt hat with a silver-and-turquoise hatband and the brim turned down all around. He doubted any of his old colleagues would recognize him.
Lauren wore one of Zeta's velvet skirts, this one in royal blue, and a print overblouse cinched in at the waist with a belt. Her auburn hair was pinned up and covered with a dark scarf, and over that she wore a broad-brimmed straw hat and kept her head down.
"When we reach the fourth floor there will be more lawmen, probably FBI agents," Sam prompted again. "Just remember what I told you. As soon as we get within earshot of those guards and I give the signal, everyone start complaining. And keep it up until I tell you to stop."
"Hey, no problem, cousin," Larry replied. "Who knows? We may even get something done while we're here."
The ploy worked. The men stationed outside the door barely spared them a glance and the ones inside directed them to Judge Holloway's chambers when they asked and warned them to keep it down.
Sam had been testifying in this courthouse for years and didn't need any help finding Judge Holloway. His courtroom was directly across the hall from Judge Bruno's, where the Giovessi case was being heard.
As Sam expected, two more Federal Marshals stood outside Judge Bruno's doors, scanning the hall in both directions and eyeing every person who stepped off the elevators or climbed the ornate stairs. Standing with them were two FBI agents. One was Sam's old friend Todd Berringer; the other was John Scudder, known around the bureau office as Scud.
Sam coughed twice, and on cue his companions began to grouse about their water rights being stolen, and muttering that the judge had better come up with a solution fast, or they were going to file suit against the government.
It was the acid test, and Sam held his breath, but neither Todd's nor Scud's eyes showed the slightest flicker of recognition when they trailed over Sam and Lauren. They merely shook their heads and looked away, not interested in a bunch of ragtag Native Americans.
The elevator doors opened and Augustus and Walter stepped into the hall. As per the plan they'd worked out, Sam's father and uncle walked right past him and the others without making eye contact. They were stopped and questioned briefly by Todd, but a moment later were allowed to enter Judge Bruno's courtroom.
Sam and his friends filed into the courtroom on the opposite side of the hall. Court was in session but everyone was so absorbed in the proceedings that they barely drew a glance as they slipped into the last two rows of seats at the back of the spectators gallery. They were careful at all times to keep Lauren in the middle of the group.
"Now what?" she whispered to Sam when they were seated.
"Now we wait until Dad comes and tells us they're ready for you."
They didn't have long to wait. Barely fifteen minutes later Augustus poked his head in the door and nodded to them.
Sam saw the panic in Lauren's eyes and felt the shudder that rippled
through her. He pried her hands apart and gave one a squeeze, then hauled her to her feet. He bent and kissed her, then looked deep into her frightened eyes. "C'mon, babe, let's go. It's time to kick ass and take names."
The others surrounded Lauren and Sam, and as one they walked across the hall past the stern faced Federal Marshals. Todd and Scud had moved inside Judge Bruno's courtroom and stationed themselves on either side of the door.
Sam and his friends created a commotion when they entered. Immediately, the agents standing around the perimeter walls moved to block them.
"Here now! What is this!" Judge Bruno thundered, banging his gavel. "Order. Order in the court!"
Sitting in the front row, Augustus leaned forward and whispered something to the prosecutor, who promptly jumped to his feet.
"Your Honor, these people are merely escorting the witness into the courtroom for her protection."
"I strenuously object, your Honor!" a member of the defense team shouted. "This is nothing but theatrics, staged to prejudice the jury."
"Not true, your Honor," the prosecutor fired back. "There have already been several attempts on Ms. Brownley's life."
The judge pondered for a moment. "Objection overruled. Which one of you is Lauren Brownley?"
Lauren glanced up at Sam. Her eyes swam with terror. "You'll do fine," he whispered, and gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it.
She swallowed hard, then nodded and squared her shoulders. "Here I am, your Honor," she said, stepping forward.
Sam and the others took their seats at the back of the room, but he covertly kept an eye on the agents standing around the perimeter of the room. He also noted that Harvey Weiss sat in the front row, two seats down from Augustus and Walter.
Though Lauren's voice was not quite steady, she gave a clear and detailed accounting of the events of that January night at the Club Classico. When the defense tried to poke holes in her story she remained composed and resolute.
Through it all, Carlo fumed. Even from behind, Sam could see the angry color that rose in his neck and ears. When the judge excused Lauren and she started to step down, the old mobster jumped to his feet and exploded in rage.
"You bitch! I helped you when you had nobody! And this is how you repay me! You're dead! Do you hear me? Dead!"
Two guards rushed over to restrain Carlo, but he somehow managed to shake them off and grab a gun from one of the men's holsters.
"Shit!" Sam sprang to his feet and bolted for Lauren.
Several agents rushed to join the fray and all around pandemonium erupted as shouts and screams went up and people dove for cover.
"I'll kill you myself, bitch!"
From several feet away, Sam made a dive for Lauren. They went down together just as Carlo got off a shot. At the same instant another agent managed to knock the old man's arm up, and the bullet went wild and embedded in the ceiling.
The lawmen finally gained the upper hand and wrestled Carlos to the floor.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Sam demanded, anxiously running his hands over Lauren.
"I'm okay. Just...shaken up is all."
Sam rose and helped her to her feet, but his worried gaze continued the examination. During the tackle her hat and scarf had been knocked off and now her auburn hair hung around her face and shoulders, its vibrant color accentuating her pallor.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, Sam. Really."
He was about to say more when he glanced toward the back of the courtroom and spotted Todd, sidling out the door. Sam grabbed Lauren's arm and hauled her down the aisle to where Larry and the others were getting to their feet. "Larry, look after her, will you?" To Lauren he said, "Stay here. I'll be right back."
In the hall outside the courtroom people were scurrying this way and that. Sam craned his neck and searched through the crowd for Todd but he didn't see him anywhere. Then he noticed the door to the fire stairs at the end of the corridor was slowly closing.
Sam sprinted down the hall and jerked the door open again.
Startled, Todd paused on the landing a few steps down and looked up.
"Hello, Todd. Going somewhere?"
"Sam? Damn, is that you? You look like— Hey! What's with the gun, ol' buddy?"
Sam eased down the stairs, his revolver pointed squarely at Todd's chest. "It's over, Todd. I know you're Giovessi's man. One of them, anyway."
Todd started to argue, then thought better of it and sighed. "How did you figure it out?"
"You were the only one I ever told about my aunt and uncle. I knew the moment those agents came up their driveway."
Todd rolled his eyes and grimaced. "Damn. You always were quick."
Disappointment rose like bitter gall inside Sam. Though he'd known better, deep down he'd hoped his friend would turn indignant and deny the accusation, that he would somehow explain everything away and prove him wrong. He wouldn't even have minded if Todd had exploded in righteous anger and taken a swing at him. Anything would be better than this.
"Those guys in Utah? Were they on Carlo's payroll, too?"
"Naw, they were just agents out of a local office following orders."
"You want to tell me who else is in Carlo's pocket?"
Todd grinned. "I think I'll wait until my lawyer is present to do any more talking."
"Dammit, Todd. Why?" Sam ground out. "You were always a by-the-book guy. How could you sell out to scum like Giovessi?"
"Ol' buddy, you'd be surprised how easy it is to turn off your conscience when the money's right. Hell, I got tired of working my butt off for peanuts. And for what? So our judicial system can turn the bad guys loose again? I figured if I couldn't beat 'em, why not join 'em and rake in my share of the dough. I woulda cut you in on the action, except I knew a straight-arrow like you would just slap the cuffs on me and start reading me my Miranda rights."
"You got it." Reaching the landing, Sam motioned with the gun for Todd to turn around. "You know the drill. Hands above your head, against the wall, and spread 'em."
Todd was about to comply when the door to the landing above them burst open and banged back against the adjacent wall. Sam's head swiveled toward the sound, and his heart leaped right up into his throat as Lauren rushed into the stairwell and came clattering down the metal steps.
"Sam! What is going on? I was so worried when you ran out like th—"
"Lauren, get back!" Sam shouted, but he was too late.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Todd shoulder-butted Sam out of the way and grabbed Lauren. Before Sam could recover, Todd had her in a choke hold and his revolver in his other hand, the barrel pressed against her temple.
"Drop it, Sam."
"No! Don't do it, Sam!"
"Shut up, woman!" As punishment, Todd squeezed Lauren's neck tighter, making her gag.
"Let go of my wife, Berringer."
"Your wife!" Todd shot Sam an astonished look then laughed. "I don't believe it. You married our witness? Man, she must really be something in bed."
Rage ripped through Sam. He took a half step forward but jerked back when Todd pressed the gun tighter against Lauren's temple.
"Back off, or she gets it right now!" he snarled.
"Hurt her and you're a dead man, Berringer. That's a promise."
"Very touching, Sam. But if you don't want her hurt, all you have to do is drop your gun and back off. Now, dammit! Or so help me, I'll kill her right here, right now."
"I suggest you do as he says, Sam."
Startled, Sam looked over his shoulder, and saw his boss, Charley Potter, standing on the landing above them, his gun pointed at Sam's back.
"You? You're in on this, too?" The heavy weight of disillusion pressed down on Sam like wet cement. Charley was the last man in the Denver office he would have suspected of being on the take. He would have no problem believing it of Harvey Weiss, but not Charley. Sam had always believed his long-time friend and boss was incorruptible. He would have staked his life on it.
"Noooo!"
Lauren's outraged cry as she grabbed the barrel of Todd's gun and knocked it skyward startled all three men, but Sam recovered quickest. Before the echo died away, he spun around and fired. Charley slammed back against the wall behind him, then slowly slid to the floor, a red stain blossoming on the front of his white shirt.
Sam spun back just in time to see Lauren gouge Todd in the eye. Howling, he dropped the gun and grabbed his face as the weapon clattered down the next flight of stairs.
"Why you—" With an enraged growl, Todd made a lunge for her, but in a move so fast even Sam didn't see it coming, she hauled off and kicked him as hard as she could in the groin.
Todd dropped like a stone and curled into a fetal position, screaming and writhing.
"God, sweetheart." Sam snatched Lauren into his arms and held her tight against his thundering heart. "Are you all right?"
"I—I think so."
"Oh, God, Lauren, don't ever scare me like that again. I thought I was going to lose you." He began to rain frantic kisses over her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, the side of her neck. "I couldn't bear that," he declared fiercely. "I love you. I love you. Ah, little one, you're everything to me. Everything."
"Oh, Sam." Joy gushed up inside Lauren. "Sam, I—"
The door on the upper landing burst open again and a half-dozen armed men, led by Harvey Weiss, rushed inside. "What the hell is going on in here?"
It took the better part of an hour for Lauren and Sam to explain all that had happened since he had spirited her out of Denver the previous January and to convince Harvey and the local police and the Federal Prosecutor that Todd and Charley had tried to kill them. They were helped on that score when another agent stuck his head inside the room they were using to tell them that Carlo had suffered a heart attack on the way back to his cell.
"He's in the hospital now, under guard. The docs say his heart is so bad they doubt he'll make it." The agent chuckled. "He was so pissed that the agents he paid to protect him didn't keep him out of prison that he squealed his head off all the way to the hospital. Gave us the names of seven agents he'd bought." The man tore a page out of his notepad and handed it to Harvey. "You're not gonna believe whose names are on that list."
