by Cate Nolan
Ben shifted, focused on breathing for a minute, then continued. “Someone was waiting. I took a knife. Quint must have seen them making a grab for Christine because he shoved me aside and lunged at her. Probably saved my life, too, because the minute he got his hands on her, the car took off, and the guy who’d stabbed me disappeared into the crowd. I never even saw him.”
That was not what Jackson wanted to hear. “Did you get a look at the car?”
“Quick. As I was falling. Dark blue, tinted windows.” He closed his eyes for a minute, apparently drawing on his training to try to dredge up a memory. “There was a dent in the right rear bumper. Some sort of decal right above it. White and blue. I couldn’t read what it said. Maybe Quint saw something else.”
Jackson would check, but from the report he’d gotten earlier, Mr. DEA hadn’t seen anything. He’d been totally focused on keeping hold of Christine Davis, the assistant US attorney.
“Any idea how they found her here?” Ben asked.
“Callie?” Jackson shook his head. “So you think it was her they were after?”
“Has to be. If they knew she was there, they would have expected her to be coming out with me. With Christine in that winter coat, hat covering her head, all you’d see was the blond curls. Easy to mistake.”
“Still doesn’t explain how they found her,” Jackson muttered. “Unless someone tracked Christine or Quint.”
“Possible, but we went to a lot of trouble to avoid it. That was the whole reason for bringing them here rather than taking Callie to them. Seemed safer. You came up with them, didn’t you?”
Jackson nodded. “We took separate flights from San Antonio and Austin into Atlanta but got stuck on the same connecting flight because of weather delays. Never acknowledged each other in the terminal or in the air and we made sure to take cabs to different hotels. No one would have had any reason to suspect we were together unless they knew.”
Their gazes met and held, neither wanting to be the one to say the words, admit that one of their own must have leaked information.
Ben finally broke the silence. “Get her out of town.” He swallowed hard, as much from the pain of betrayal as from physical injury. “Don’t tell anyone. Just go.”
“There’s one other possibility,” Jackson offered.
Ben shook his head slowly. “Nope. Makes no sense.”
Jackson didn’t respond.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” Jackson demanded.
Ben rolled his eyes. “Because I know you. She’s not in cahoots with them.”
“You still want to say that? You’re lying in this hospital bed because someone stuck a knife in you.”
“They were trying to get to her.”
“So you say. How do we know they weren’t trying to help her escape?”
Ben gave him a look of disgust.
“Why wasn’t she with you anyway? Why did you have Christine instead of Callie?”
Ben closed his eyes briefly. “Christine had come down really hard on her. Basically accused her of withholding evidence. Made all sorts of threats. She had Quint there giving his best DEA glare, trying to intimidate her.”
“Did it work?”
“Depends on your point of view. Poor kid was shaking in her boots. But she didn’t have any information to give.”
Jackson leaned back in the chair and studied Ben’s expression. Had his mentor gone soft?
Ben shrugged self-consciously. “I wanted to give her some time to settle down. It’s been real hard on her. So I left her in the office and took Christine and Quint down. I figured I’d ask them to lay off terrorizing the witness—at least until the holidays were past, you know?”
Jackson nodded. He knew. That was just the kind of thing Ben did. Going above and beyond to be sure his witness was not only safe physically but emotionally, too.
Jackson was careful with his words. “That doesn’t mean she wasn’t involved.”
“Gut instinct says she’s innocent.”
Jackson snorted. “Is that your healthy gut speaking or the one that was knifed?”
Ben laughed weakly. “Good one.” He closed his eyes.
“You’re tired and I’ve got to get back to my witness.” Jackson stood and rested his hand lightly on Ben’s shoulder. “Take care. Don’t worry—I’ll keep her safe until you come back.”
When Jackson turned to leave, Ben grabbed his sleeve. “Seriously, man.” He paused, dragged in a breath. “Don’t go into this thinking she’s guilty. If you do, you might make a mistake that costs her life.”
Jackson looked down at his friend. He couldn’t say the words, but he nodded his promise.
As he made his way back to the hotel, Jackson replayed the scene in his head. Ben was right, of course. He had to keep an open mind. Honestly, it didn’t matter at all to WITSEC if she was innocent or guilty. She was a protected witness who could provide testimony to convict the real bad guys. For that reason alone, she had to be kept safe.
It was a job he took very seriously.
THREE
By the time he reached the hotel, Jackson was envisioning dinner. He could have stopped to pick up something for them, but he decided to indulge his witness and let her choose. Maybe that would put them on a better footing.
The lobby was mobbed with Christmas revelers, so Jackson ducked around back to the lesser-used elevator bank. He squeezed in with a couple of bellhops and a room-service cart. The news was playing on the elevator television screen, and Jackson immediately recognized the scene from this afternoon.
He could just barely make out the news anchor’s voice over the chatter. “In other news, the Christmas season took a dangerous turn this afternoon when armed robbers tried to mug a woman exiting an office building in midtown. The woman escaped unharmed but her companion is hospitalized with a knife wound. Police are asking anyone with information about a late-model, dark blue SUV to contact the number showing on the screen.”
So that was the story they were giving out. Innocent mugging. Jackson shrugged. It wasn’t like they could reveal the truth that the assistant United States attorney responsible for prosecuting the biggest drug cartel of the past decade had almost been abducted on a Manhattan street. Not good PR for New York or the Texas justice system.
Jackson was turning his focus back to dinner plans when another conversation caught his attention.
“Dude, look.” One waiter nudged the other and pointed at the screen.
Jackson glanced up in time to see a quick flash of Christine Davis’s face on the screen. Uh-oh—someone would not be happy that picture had been released.
“The blonde? Nice.”
“No, man. The car. See the car? That looks like the one I saw parked right outside on 55th when I went for my smoke break.”
“I thought you stopped smoking.”
“Forget that. The car I saw. It looks like the one they showed in the picture. Even had the same dent.”
Jackson froze. Ben said the car had a dent. He looked up, but the news had moved on to another story.
“You think there’s a reward?”
The first guy hesitated. “A reward is nice, but not if it costs me this job.”
“I thought you were on break. It’s not like you were sneaking out or something. Talk to the boss.”
“Yeah. Let me just deliver this burger to 1408 first.”
Jackson fiddled with his phone, pretending to read a message, then reached over and pressed a different button to get off at the floor below Callie’s.
He took off down the corridor, through the fire exit and up the flight of stairs, taking the steps two at a time. He dashed down the hall and flashed his badge at the man standing guard. “Inside. We’ve got tr
ouble.”
The marshal took one look at Jackson’s face and started defending himself. “No one saw her, sir.”
“What?”
“The room service. I placed the order and I accepted the food. She stayed in the bedroom. No one saw her.”
“That’s not the problem, and it’s not your fault.” Jackson wanted to kick something. The only person at fault was him for leaving her. How had they managed to find her again already?
He burst into the room, calling to Callie to grab everything. “We’re leaving.”
“Again?” She sighed. “Can’t we wait until I finish eating?”
“No. Staying to finish could cost your life.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”
“I just rode up in the elevator with hotel staff who recognized the car that was used this afternoon. It’s parked outside the hotel.”
She looked confused. Little wonder.
“Which means that somehow they know that you’re in the hotel.”
Jackson began searching the hotel room for anything to use as a disguise. When he returned to the main room, Callie was still standing there looking dumbstruck and on the verge of tears.
“Look, Ms. Martin. You can think about this all you want later. Right now, we need to disguise you and get you out of this building before they figure out where in the hotel you are.”
He asked the other marshal for his coat and hat and shoved it at her. “Here, take this. Turn it inside out and stuff your hair up into the hat. Where’s your scarf? Wrap it around your face.”
He watched impatiently as Callie did as he’d directed. “Make sure there’s no hair showing and let’s go. We can’t disguise anything else now. We have to get moving.”
He turned to the marshal. “Once we’re clear, say five minutes, call it in. If anyone else shows up or asks about her, tell them—” He looked down at the tray. “Tell them she went out to dinner.”
Jackson opened the door and scanned the hallway. “Come on.”
He took her by the hand and led her down the hall away from the elevator. “We’re taking the stairs.”
“Fifteen flights?”
He stopped long enough to recognize the panic settling over her. “No,” he reassured. “Down four and then I’ll wait for an empty elevator.”
Once they reached the eleventh floor, Jackson kept her hiding in the hallway until an empty elevator arrived. He pulled her into the corner, shielding her from view as other guests got on. When they reached the fifth floor, they got off and he led her through a maze of conference rooms and down a series of escalators until they came out in a back alleyway onto 54th Street. He was tempted to swing around the block and take a look at the car, but it wasn’t worth risking his witness. A sudden peal of sirens in the distance told him the call had been placed. Now to make good their escape.
A line of cabs was waiting, but Jackson didn’t want to leave a trail from the hotel. Grabbing Callie’s hand, he dashed through traffic, crossed the street and ducked into the lobby of another hotel. He turned to face her. Callie was gasping for breath.
“It’s okay. We’ll get a cab from here to the airport.”
She looked upset, on the edge of breaking down. Once he had them settled in a cab, he wrapped an arm around her and rested her head on his shoulder. “Hang on,” he whispered. “We’re almost clear.”
By the time they arrived at JFK, Callie had recovered her color and some spunk. Jackson led her into the terminal, where they ducked into a shop to buy some tourist gear and cheap reading glasses. He sent her into the bathroom to fix up while he called to arrange a rental car.
His phone rang just as the car arrived. A quick glance at the display revealed his boss on the line.
“Walker here.” He juggled the phone while he traded car keys for a tip. He considered moving to another space, but Callie should be out soon. He’d use his badge if necessary to keep the space.
“I hear you stopped by to see Ben.” John Logan’s voice held more understanding than censure.
“Sir. I don’t like operating blind. Just wanted some answers.”
“Which is why I’m calling. Figured you couldn’t come in for an update.”
“I’m better off on the move.”
“Agreed. The car was abandoned.”
Jackson listened as his boss filled him in on the details, then blew out a breath of frustration. “Any sign of them?”
“Nothing.”
Jackson didn’t like the sound of that. Were they still searching the hotel for Callie? He didn’t think they could have been followed, but it wasn’t likely the thugs had just given up.
Jackson stared into the distance, watching the planes take off and land. There was a pattern to it, a rhythm. Most things had one. Few occurrences were random, including today’s attack. “What are you thinking?”
“Someone found her and wanted to send a message. Take her or take her out.”
Jackson chewed on that for a minute. He didn’t like the taste. “You don’t think she’s involved?”
“Callie Martin?” His boss sounded surprised. “Nope. I don’t think so. You do?”
Jackson was relieved his concern wasn’t dismissed out of hand. “I haven’t talked with her long enough to form an opinion. It just seems likely.”
There was a long pause. “You aren’t the first to question it, but most change their mind after getting to know her a little better.”
Jackson acknowledged his superior’s unspoken advice to give her time. He still intended to stay alert—and not just when looking for the bad guys.
“Let me know when you’re settled in. I’ll see to backup.”
“Will do, thanks.”
As Jackson disconnected the call he turned and found Callie standing behind him. How much had she heard? Enough to be suspicious—and angry—based on her expression. She walked silently to the car, climbed into the backseat and settled against the door, all without looking at him.
Jackson put away his phone and climbed into the front. He turned the key in the ignition, put the car in gear and headed west.
Miles rolled away under the wheels of the rental car while Jackson mulled over his conversation with Ben at the hospital. Something was nagging at him, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was.
He glanced at his witness in the backseat. She made him uneasy, too. He’d protect her, but he wouldn’t be fooled. You didn’t last long in witness protection if you let the witness burn you.
As the hours passed, the hum of the tires on the blacktop began to lull Jackson. Fatigue burned his eyes and the lane lines started to blur. He needed sleep. Coffee would have to do. The last sign had indicated a rest stop in twenty miles. He had to be pretty close to that now.
Traffic had been light and there was no indication anyone was trailing behind them. He’d varied speed enough and watched the cars carefully as they passed, so he was 100 percent confident no one had followed him. Still, when he saw the exit, Jackson skipped using the turn signal and waited until the very last second to make an abrupt turn into the rest-stop parking lot. There was no sense in advertising his plans. He pulled in close to the rest station and turned to check on Callie. The slow rise and fall of her chest and her gentle, even breathing told him she was deeply asleep, as she had been ever since they’d left the airport. He probably should wake her and see if she needed to go inside.
“Ms. Martin?”
She muttered something in her sleep and huddled deeper into the seat.
He didn’t like leaving her alone, but he’d do neither of them any good if he fell asleep at the wheel. Hopefully, he’d be back and on the road without her ever noticing he’d been gone.
After a quick stop in the restroom, Jackson stocked up on coffee and candy bars. He w
as just exiting the building, ripping open a candy bag with his teeth, when a bloodcurdling scream echoed across the parking lot.
Callie! Jackson dropped the coffee. Candy pieces scattered in his wake as he ran for the car.
* * *
“Ms. Martin, Callie, Callie, wake up.”
The words came from a great distance. Callie felt the hand on her arm and screamed again. “Let go of me!”
“Callie.” The voice was gentler now, closer. “Callie, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”
She could barely hear his words over the thrum of her racing heart, but the soothing tone helped ease her terror. It was a dream. He said she was only dreaming. Oh, praise the Lord—it was all a dream.
As her fear ebbed, Callie’s memories rushed in. Screams rose in her throat again, but she cut them off with a sob.
“That must have been some dream.”
She buried her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes as if she could erase what she saw. It wasn’t a dream, not really. It was her living nightmare. She’d been reliving the night Rick was killed.
“Are you okay?”
She lifted her head and looked around, noticing for the first time that they were in a parking lot. The back door of the car was open, and Jackson was crouched beside her.
She nodded in answer to his question and raised one of her own. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere in the middle of Ohio.”
Which meant they’d driven through New Jersey and Pennsylvania while she’d been sleeping. “Is that where we were going?”
He shrugged. “I was just driving until the sun came up.”
It dawned on her that he’d been driving all night while she slept. “Do you want me to drive for a while so you can sleep?”
There was only the barest hesitation, but she caught it.
“No, thanks. I thought we could find a hotel, pull in and catch a nap for a while.”
The last thing she wanted to do was sleep again.
He returned to the driver’s seat, and she took the passenger side. They sat for a while, each lost in their own thoughts, until Jackson broke the silence.
