Christmas in Hiding

by Cate Nolan

  And now she was paying the price for ever starting it. Facing the consequences of her bad judgment. How many times had she played the “if only” game? If only she’d stood firm. If only she’d never dated him in the first place. If only she hadn’t agreed to sing backup for his band that one last time.

  He’d told her it was a charity event, so she agreed to perform, even though it had been a few weeks since they’d broken up. One last time singing, and then she would put that part of her life in the past along with their relationship. Except it hadn’t worked out that way. The charity gig had apparently been a cover for his drug dealing. And she’d walked right into a sting. DEA and FBI agents had arrived too late to save Rick’s life but just in time to whisk her away. They’d offered her sanctuary, but in order to testify to the things she’d witnessed she’d had to give up her whole life, assume a new identity and leave behind all that she knew and loved.

  As the months had gone by, she’d learned to accept this solitary new life as atonement for her poor decisions. Tonight she wasn’t the only one paying the price. Regret at her own selfish thoughts stung Callie. A good man was injured, possibly dying, and another woman had been attacked. And what about the DEA agent?

  None of this was directly her fault, but Callie couldn’t shake the feeling that if she’d made better choices, it all would have worked out differently.

  * * *

  Jackson stepped out of the cab and surveyed the street before he reached back in to help his witness out. He offered his arm. “Remember, we’re a couple. Look like we’re out for a romantic evening.”

  “Is there a reason we can’t just look like friends or siblings hanging out together?”

  He dropped her arm. “Whatever you prefer.”

  If Ben survived, Jackson was going to have another talk with him. They’d spent an hour on the phone yesterday, going over case notes in preparation for a planned transition. The trial was due to begin in two weeks, and Jackson was set to take over and stay with Callie until it was time to bring her in to testify.

  In all that conversation, never once had Ben warned him that Callie Martin was a difficult witness. In fact, if he recalled correctly, Ben’s words ran something along the lines of the sweetest, most innocent Texas blonde you’ll ever want to meet.

  He glanced at the woman walking stiffly at his side. So much for sweet and innocent. He’d grant the beautiful blonde description, though. Even looking confused and scared, there was something compelling about her, something that had made him opt for pretending to be her husband rather than her brother. She’d certainly put him in his place.

  “As we walk through the terminal, follow my lead. We’re going to cross the main concourse, then go down the stairs to the subway.”

  “Why the subway?”

  “I’m trying to vary our travel arrangements. I don’t think anyone followed us, but if they did, it just got harder.”

  He guided her down the escalator along with the rest of the crowd and headed across the main waiting room. He ducked onto the Track 23 platform, then hurried her along the back corridor and out through another track door that exited through a passage, across the food market and directly into the subway. Her labored breathing caught his attention so he slowed his pace, but he never stopped moving. His gaze darted around the station, missing nothing and no one as he slid a MetroCard through the turnstile and ushered her through ahead of him.

  She stopped abruptly as they approached the stairs. “Am I allowed to know where we’re going yet?”

  Jackson scanned the crowd swirling around them. “I’d rather not say.”

  He knew he was irritating her with his evasive answers. It wasn’t intentional, but until he knew how her cover had been blown, he wasn’t saying much of anything. For all he knew, she was the one who had arranged the ambush. Jackson glanced at her. She looked dazed and confused, not malicious. Was she innocent or just a very good actress? Either way, she was his to protect.

  As they walked across the platform he thought about the expression on her face and softened. What must this look like to someone from Texas who was relatively new to New York? Santa sat behind steel drums beating out some holiday tune. Elderly ladies offered crocheted hats for sale, while a man slept crouched against a pillar. From the look of awe on Callie’s face, he guessed she hadn’t spent much time in the subway.

  Before he could say anything, the express train pulled in. Jackson took a moment to check the platform behind them. No one seemed to be paying any attention, but better safe than sorry. He led Callie on to the train and whispered, “Stay close.”

  The doors started to beep their closing tune. Just as they were about to shut, he pulled her back out onto the platform. The doors popped open, then quickly closed. Jackson could hear the canned reminder not to hold the doors open. He swung Callie around and hopped on the local train pulling in across the platform.

  “What... Why did we—?” Callie shook her head and grabbed for the pole as the train lurched ahead.

  Jackson didn’t let his guard down, but he hoped anyone who might have trailed them was as stunned by his move as she apparently was.

  The local train was fairly crowded, but Jackson managed to glare his way into a seat for Callie. She sat and he stood guard over her. From that vantage point he could see everyone around. He could also see her face. She was trying not to stare, but clearly the couple across the way had caught her attention. Little wonder with their matching tattoos and red-and-green hair. He wondered how the girl from Texas was managing.

  “Have you ridden the subway much?”

  She shrugged. “Some. I walk when I can.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She burst into a grin. “Yeah. I love it!”

  Jackson couldn’t help but grin back at her. New York might be an acquired taste, but it was good she was flexible and adjusting so well. An adventuresome spirit would make her time in witness protection a bit easier to bear.

  The train pulled into the next stop, and Jackson eyed the platform. If anyone had followed them, they should still be stuck on the express. “Come on, we’re getting off here.”

  “Already?”

  Jackson bit back a smile. Was that disappointment in her voice?

  He led her above ground and into the madness of the East Side at Christmas. Hailing a cab wasn’t quite as easy this time, but before too long he had them back in another car. He gave directions for the West Side and watched as Callie stared out the window. “Christmas in New York. Pure insanity.”

  She turned to him and smiled. “I still can’t get over the sheer number of people.”

  Something about her enthusiasm stirred a response in him. “I’m pretty used to crowds, but every once in a while it amazes me, too.”

  Within minutes, the cab pulled up in front of a hotel. After Jackson paid, he took her arm and helped her from the backseat. They walked to the hotel entry and waited under the awning. As soon as the cab turned the corner, Jackson urged her in the other direction.

  Callie turned a skeptical gaze on him. “I can’t believe anyone could still be following us—if they ever were. I’m so lost, even I couldn’t find us.”

  “Not too much longer now.”

  She sighed and started walking. “You seem to know your way around. How long have you lived here?”

  “I don’t. I’m just here because of you. Ben probably didn’t have a chance to tell you, but I was scheduled to replace him. He’s needed back in Texas. I’ll stay and take you in to trial.”

  Callie paused and rested against an office building. Eyes closed, she drew in breaths. After a minute, she started walking again. He drew alongside her and rested his hand on her arm. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She shrugged away from his hand. “I’m just still trying to wrap my head around all this. Around the idea that a
ll of your lives are revolving around me. I feel like I should say I’m sorry.”

  Jackson’s senses went on alert. “Why sorry?”

  “That you have to be here, away from home, just because I am.”

  He shrugged. “It’s my job.” That was life as a federal marshal. Holidays were pretty much like any other day. It suited him fine.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can stop for coffee?”

  Jackson looked ahead to the familiar green sign that had caught her eye as they turned the corner. He hated the longing in her voice and that he couldn’t do anything to help. “Sorry. Not until I’m sure we’re clear.”

  She nodded and kept walking, but Jackson felt a twinge of remorse. She looked exhausted and anxious. Would it have hurt to stop? Maybe not, but he was taking no chances when they were this close to their safe house.

  “This way.” He glanced quickly left and right, then led her across the street and up the hotel steps. They crossed a crowded lobby, directly to the elevator bank. “We’ve got a room already,” he said quietly. “You’re going to stay here until we have a better idea what happened. There’s another pair of marshals on duty up there. You’ll be safe.”

  He hoped.

  After depositing Callie in the hotel room, Jackson headed back out. He needed some information, needed to talk, hopefully to Ben if he was able, definitely to the assistant US attorney and the DEA agent. Once he’d spoken with them, he’d call his home office. They had to figure out what had gone so terribly wrong. Before it happened again.

  Jackson reached for his phone to call the hospital but hesitated when he spied the coffee shop logo. The calls could wait a few minutes.

  Fifteen minutes later Jackson handed off cups of coffee to the marshals on duty before entering the hotel suite.

  Though Callie looked startled to see him back so soon, her apprehensive expression melted into a smile when she spotted what was in his hands. That smile made it worth all the lost time he’d spent waiting behind Christmas shoppers in a long line.

  She accepted the cup from him and took a sip. “Ahh, perfect. Just the way I like it. How did you guess?”

  Jackson shifted, uneasy with the praise. “It’s in your file.”

  TWO

  It’s in your file.

  The door closed behind Jackson, but his words lingered, sending shivers down Callie’s spine. Of course she had a file. She just hadn’t really thought of it in those terms before. That somewhere there was a folder—most likely on some computer database—with all her information. Even the way she took her coffee.

  If her file included minor details like coffee preferences, what else did it hold? The idea that Jackson, a man she’d just met, knew her personal information, even secrets she guarded from the rest of the world, left her feeling vulnerable in a new and profound way.

  Did they know who her mother was? The thought struck from out of the blue. Callie’s fingers curled into fists as she fought to contain the rising dread. Wouldn’t that be ironic if they knew more about her life than she did?

  Callie crawled up on the sofa. Cradling the coffee cup in her hands, she gently rocked, seeking calm. How had her life come to this?

  Sometimes she thought she’d been asking that same question for three straight months. How had her life gone from being ordinary—her days spent teaching kindergarten—to this constant danger? Three months ago she’d been sitting at her kitchen table writing lesson plans. Now she was in hiding from the kind of dangerous men she’d thought only existed in movies.

  She couldn’t even begin to comprehend all she had lost. Not long ago she’d been wondering if she and Rick had a future together. Now he was buried in his family’s plot in a remote Texas graveyard, and she was left to deal with the fallout.

  She didn’t doubt her decision to break up with him. If nothing else, everything that followed had proved the wisdom of that choice. But with each day in witness protection, her dream of a family seemed farther and farther away.

  For the umpteenth time in her life she was alone.

  As a former foster kid who’d been bumped around from house to house during her childhood, she should have developed a thick enough skin to handle it. Should have. But the ache never went away. The longing for a real family remained. It especially hurt at this time of year.

  Restless with the memories, Callie rose and drifted around the hotel room. It was too fancy, almost sterile. She couldn’t even find a safe place to set the coffee down without fear of leaving a ring. The suite was more luxurious than any place she’d ever stayed before. New York was so far removed from her small-town Texas life.

  She wandered over to the window. If Ben were here, he’d make her step back. Feeling defiant, Callie pressed her head against the glass. Fifteen floors below, people hustled along the street. For a brief time she’d been a part of that. She’d begun to settle into a new job and a new life and had actually thought it would be fun to be in New York for Christmas. She’d tried to look forward to the season, enjoying the lights, the windows, the tree at Rockefeller Center.

  Now, that, too, was gone.

  Heat poured from the vent, but Callie shivered as she stared at the crowds below. Evening was falling, dusk beginning to shroud the people from view. She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her sweater tight. It wasn’t exactly a hug, but it was the best she could get at the moment.

  She’d allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security. There was no safe place for her anymore. Not only could she never go home again, but apparently she also couldn’t trust that she would ever find a home that was safe. For the girl whose only dream had been a home and family of her own, that was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Enough of this. Giving herself a shake, Callie turned from the window. She could wallow in sadness, or she could choose to focus on the good. And there was good. She just needed to remember it.

  Callie rooted through her bag for her Bible. Focusing on reading scripture had been a tool of self-preservation in the early days of this ordeal. It was a way of reminding herself that God was good all the time. Even in the midst of all the turmoil, she had much for which to be thankful. So many people had helped her, starting with the marshals, like Ben, who were willing to sacrifice their lives to keep her safe.

  Regret twisted in her belly. She wished she could have gone with Jackson to check on Ben. He’d helped her get her footing in her new life. At first he’d been a friend, protector and father figure all rolled into one. Once she’d been moved to New York, she hadn’t seen him often, but he’d kept in touch. She should be there for him. Since she couldn’t be, she would pray for him.

  Dear Lord, I pray to You in thanksgiving for all You have given me. Jesus, my Lord, healer of the sick, please shine Your love on Ben. Protect him and keep him safe from harm.

  Callie paused in her prayer. Ben had been her protector, and now Jackson had that role. She was grateful to God for sending Jackson to rescue her. Whether or not she was grateful for Jackson himself was another matter. She was going to have to get to know him better. A smile tugged at her lips as she turned back to her Bible. Buying her coffee definitely weighed in his favor.

  * * *

  Jackson gripped the edge of the hospital room door, trying to drain the anger from his body before facing his colleague. Ben didn’t need to deal with Jackson’s baggage. He had enough fighting of his own to do. According to the doctor, the knife had missed anything vital but not by much. Another quarter inch... Jackson shook off the thought. Supposedly Ben was just sleeping. Good. He’d wait.

  He sank into the chair beside the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands, fighting back emotions that threatened to swamp him. Ben wasn’t just his colleague. He’d been a friend, a mentor and the closest man in Jackson’s life since his family was murdered.

  Minutes
ticked by with nothing but beeping machines and bustling nurses. Finally there was a slight movement in the bed. “You might as well spit it out instead of sitting there making angry faces.”

  Jackson jolted at the whispered words. Tension slid off as he looked up to see Ben staring back at him. Those sun-crinkled eyes weren’t quite sparkling, but there was a light in them that eased something deep within Jackson.

  He reached over and gripped Ben’s hand. “Nice of you to wake up.”

  Ben grimaced. “You got her away?”

  Jackson nodded. “Safe and secure.”

  Ben closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “Thanks. I owe you.”

  “Nope.” Jackson shook his head. Ben had it backward. Jackson owed him everything. The senior marshal had taken a wet recruit under his wing and trained him and molded him into the man Jackson was today. He didn’t even want to think what would have become of the angry young man he’d been after the massacre of his family if Ben hadn’t intervened. Jackson had been drifting, aimless and angry. Ben had taken the bitter youth and helped him find a purpose in life. For that alone, Jackson owed him more than he could ever repay.

  For that, if nothing else, he would see that the men who’d done this paid.

  “What happened?” Ben’s voice melded with Jackson’s.

  The two men shrugged as they simultaneously asked the same important question. It would have been funny if the situation weren’t so grave.

  “I was hoping you could tell me,” Jackson urged.

  Ben frowned, trying to push past the pain. “I remember coming out of the elevator, crossing the lobby. I told Christine to let me go first, but she pushed past and went into the revolving door.” Ben made a wry grimace. “She was annoyed because Callie had no answers. Said she was in a hurry. I went through the side door. That guy from DEA, Quint, followed me.”