by Cate Nolan
“I never said any such thing,” Jackson protested. “But the evidence has been stacked against you from the start.”
That was news to Callie. “How so?”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“Well, we are. So let’s hear it.”
“When did you get so tough?”
Tough? She felt like her life was falling to pieces around her. She wasn’t tough. Just desperate. “Please, Jackson. I need to understand. Why would anyone think I was involved?”
He lifted one hand off the wheel to rub it over his eyes and forehead. “Okay. First the killings. You were the only one who got away alive.”
Callie gasped. The pain that he would even suggest...
He darted a look at her. “You asked. I’m not going to gloss over it. Do you want to hear the answer or not?”
She swallowed her tears and nodded. “Yes,” she murmured, realizing he couldn’t see her head motion.
“Then there was the meeting. You denied knowing anything about the case, but you stayed upstairs while an attack was made on the assistant US attorney.”
“Ben told me to stay up there. I was upset.”
He glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “That does not help your case. Neither does it help that once we were on the run, there was attempt after attempt where they just missed us—but they always knew exactly where we were.”
“You already know the reason for that. The tracking device that I did not put in the penguin.”
“I haven’t been able to reach Ben to confirm that yet. Be reasonable. You hid it from me. If you try to put yourself in my shoes, can’t you understand even a little why I might doubt you?”
She tried to think of it from his point of view. Finally she shook her head. “No.”
“No?”
“Ben had given it to me, so I didn’t think there was any need to show you. And I can’t put myself in your shoes and see how you see it because I know I had nothing to do with it. Remember how I broke down, told you he left me with nothing? Well it’s worse than that. I have less than nothing now because I don’t even have hope for the future.”
Callie knew she was laying her emotions bare, but what did it matter? She had absolutely nothing left to lose. “I felt like you and I had connected. I felt like you cared about me.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to say for me. “But that’s all a fraud if you can’t even take my word as truth.”
Jackson didn’t respond. Because she was making an impression? She kept on, trying to make him see. “I can’t even imagine why you would think I would be involved. My ex-boyfriend was killed.”
She hesitated for a moment. How honest should she be? She hated to lay bare any more, but what was one more layer of skin when she’d already opened herself so much? “Maybe he wasn’t the love of my life. Maybe we didn’t have a future together, but he was a good person. I do believe that. He was someone I cared about.
“Maybe...okay, definitely, he made some bad choices, but now I’ll never get to ask him why. I could be the kind of cold, judgmental person who writes him off because he got involved with drug dealers—and trust me, in my brain, I’ve done that a few times. I did break up with him. But the Gospel teaches us about forgiveness. And justice. I want justice for him. I have to forgive him in my heart because he’s not here anymore, so there’s no point in holding on to a grudge I’ll never understand.”
The atmosphere in the car thawed ever so slightly. She got the sense that maybe Jackson was listening with his heart rather than his badge. “I need justice for him. I will testify so the men who ruined my life won’t have that chance to ruin someone else’s. I—” She fell quiet. Maybe she’d said too much already.
“What aren’t you saying?” Jackson prompted.
Callie looked at him. He was driving slowly, as if to be sure his concentration was on her. “What do you mean?”
“At the end. You were thinking something else you didn’t say.”
“How can you know me that well and still not know that I’m telling the truth?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I was thinking that once upon a time I’d hoped to have a future with him.”
“But the killers destroyed that.” Jackson finished for her.
“No. He did.”
Silence stretched out until eventually she spoke softly. “All I wanted was a home, a family, people to love. He wanted something different, the big things. Fancy car, monstrosity of a house, money to travel, money to entertain, money to do things big.”
“And you didn’t want that.”
“I didn’t want any of that. I just wanted us to be a family. But I guess that wasn’t enough for him since apparently he was dealing drugs to make that money.” Her voice trailed off. “But that was him, not me.” She whispered the last words as if her defense had depleted all her energy. “His mistake. Not mine. But it became my burden.”
FOURTEEN
Jackson heard the broken I wasn’t enough that she didn’t voice, and his heart ached for her. Maybe because he understood that kind of loneliness.
His own heart had been hurting all afternoon. There could be no romantic resolution for them, but at least he could try to calm things between them so they could part on better terms. And have good memories to hang on to for the inevitable lonely nights.
His voice was soft when he began to speak. His peace offering came from deep within him, and his tone echoed the reticence of sharing something long held private.
“Years ago, there were some other men who wanted money for big things. They didn’t care how they got it either. Didn’t care who they hurt. They broke into my parents’ home.”
His mouth had gone dry so he stopped long enough to take a swig from his water bottle. “No one was expected to be home, but plans had changed and my whole family was there—except for me. My parents and my brother, Sam, were there.”
His voice cracked on Sam’s name. “The thieves got scared and started shooting. It was a massacre.”
Callie’s soft gasp reached right into his soul. “Jackson, I’m so sorry.”
He couldn’t acknowledge her sympathy. If he did, he’d never finish. “Everyone in the neighborhood knew who had done it, but they were terrified. No one would testify against the murderers.”
“Don’t tell me they got off.”
“Scot-free. Not a day spent in jail because there was no evidence against them. As a teen, I was pretty sure even the police were scared of the connections, though no one ever admitted it.
“I made a vow that day that I would fight for justice for other families.” He paused, swallowed hard. “So yes, I understand when you say you intend to testify so others won’t have to face this.”
Callie didn’t respond immediately. He could see from her expression that she was processing everything he’d said. Her expression seemed to soften. “I guess that makes it a little easier to accept your reasons for doubting me.” She reached over and rested her head on his shoulder. “You don’t need to. We’re on the same side here, Jackson.”
He glanced down at her and smiled sadly. “I guess we are. Now we just have to find a way to make sure we’re the winning side.”
“We can,” she vowed. “If we do it together. If we work as partners.”
Jackson looked at the lovely, brave girl beside him. Even when he’d doubted her he’d acknowledged her courage. He only wished they could be more than partners, could build something together.
“So now where do we go?”
Jackson laughed. Here he was being all sentimental and she was all business. “Where would you like to go? Dream big.”
“A horse farm in Kentucky.”
Jackson blinked. “That’s big. Where did that idea come from?”
Callie sighed wistfully. “I to
ld you I loved horses. As a little girl, I used to dream of living on a ranch or on a farm, raising race horses.” She shrugged. “You told me to dream big. I’ve never told anyone before. But you asked.”
So he had. The implication being that no one else ever had. No one had cared enough what she wanted. He’d file that information away for later. “How about for tonight we just find a small city with a nice hotel?”
“Sounds good. I’m suddenly starving.”
* * *
They had three days to rest up. On the fourth day, just when they were getting restless, Jackson got a phone call. When he hung up, he stood staring into space, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on.
Callie obviously knew his expressions well by now. She took one look at his face and said, “What’s wrong?”
He drew in a long breath and exhaled very slowly. “I don’t know quite how to tell you.”
“Just spill it. The tension only makes it worse.”
He knew what she meant. No amount of waiting was going to make this news any easier to deliver or bear. “The men you were supposed to testify against...” He paused, closed his eyes a second. “They were killed in a prison fight.”
Her gasp cut right to his heart. She sank down on the sofa, shock written across her face as she tried to grapple with the news.
“An accident?”
“Not likely.”
A look of terror crossed her face at those two words. He knew what she must be thinking. If the men were expendable, what about her?
“So, what do we do now? I seem to always be asking you that question, but honestly what happens now? My whole point of existence these past months has been to stay alive to testify against the men who killed Rick and his friends. To find justice.”
She visibly crumpled as the full impact hit her. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her hands cradling her face as if the weight of it all was too much for her neck to bear. “Now I won’t get that chance.”
She sat like that for so long that Jackson assumed she was praying and gave her time. Finally she lifted her gaze. “What did they tell us to do? Do I even need to stay in witness protection anymore if I don’t get to testify?”
“This just happened, so they’re not sure yet what’s next. I guess yes, they think there’s reason for you to stay in. I promise, Callie, when I know more, you will. For now we’re supposed to stay deep under until they figure out what’s up.”
“Because we’ve had such success with that so far.”
“Remember, we don’t have the tracking device anymore. No one tracked us here. Anyway, there’s a farmhouse a couple hours’ drive from here—it’s a safe house. We’re supposed to hole up there.”
“Do they have any idea who killed them? Was it their own people or other inmates who knew what they’d done?”
“It’s too soon to tell.”
“But they think it was their own, don’t they?” Callie twisted her fingers, rubbing them back and forth before knotting her hands into fists.
Jackson nodded slowly. “Most likely. No offense to your boyfriend, but he wasn’t the type of victim who would arouse animosity inside. That’s saved for certain types of offenders.”
“How soon do we leave?”
She took one look at his face and wearily lifted herself off the sofa. “I’ll get my bags.”
FIFTEEN
Callie was bored. She didn’t want to complain, but endless days of reading and watching television were driving her mad. “Is this what your work is always like?”
Jackson looked up from the wooden horse he was carving. “Pretty much.”
“Aren’t you bored to tears?”
“You mean when I’m not getting shot at or racing snowmobiles across frozen lakes or running down stairwells or—”
Callie laughed. “Okay, I get it. But seriously, how do you deal with the mind-numbing tedium of being cooped up with a witness for days on end?”
He smirked at her. “Tedium? Aren’t we into fancy words?” He rose, set his tools aside and stretched, trying to unkink his knotted shoulder muscles.
She laughed again. “Come on, you have to know what I mean.”
“I do. I just like the sound of your laugh.” He surrendered with a wink. “It’s part of the job and honestly...” He shrugged and gave her a sheepish grin. “I kind of prefer this to the hail of bullets. Hope that doesn’t ruin your impression of me.”
Callie got into the spirit and played along. “Oh, no! My heroic marshal is a coward. He runs from trouble rather than toward it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I prefer to think of that as highly intelligent rather than cowardly. How about, your marshal uses his brilliantly developed mind to escape nefarious criminals and protect innocent victims?”
“My hero!” Callie gushed.
“Now that’s more like it. Go ahead and swoon.”
Callie stood and pretended to faint. Jackson jumped to catch her as she fell. She was laughing as she landed in his arms, but her sense of humor faltered as she glanced up into his eyes. Eyes that were suddenly much too close to hers. She tore her gaze away, but it settled on lips that were also too close to hers. Firm lips, kissable lips, lips that opened as he breathed and softly sighed. Lips that were on hers, touching hers.
Jackson shifted and lost his balance. They were laughing again as they landed on the sofa, but laughter stilled as he recaptured her lips. He pulled her into his arms and settled more comfortably beside her on the couch.
“This could become my favorite way of passing the time,” he whispered when he finally drew back. He grinned at her and she took a playful swat at him.
“I’m sure you say that to all your witnesses.”
He sobered up then, her words rushing over him like an icy waterfall. “No. And I shouldn’t have allowed it with you, but...”
She silenced him with another quick kiss. “You don’t want your witness to be bored, right? She might do something foolish.”
“What could be more foolish than us falling for each other?” Jackson pulled back, tried to be disciplined. His phone rang. “Saved by the bell,” he joked as he reached for it and glanced at the display. “Walker here.”
Callie rose and wandered over to the window. The fire was crackling, making the room warm and cozy. Light snow was falling outside. Her lips tingled from the memory of Jackson’s kiss.
Callie glanced at him reflected in the glass as he chatted on his phone. All serious, there was no sign of the playful man who had kissed and cuddled with her mere moments earlier.
What had she been thinking? As he’d said, it was foolish. There was no future for them, no way they could ever be more than client and marshal. He had a career protecting witnesses. She was headed into a new identity with witness protection, provided they still thought she needed to be in the program. Once the DEA figured out what was happening, she’d be packed off to wherever and never see him again.
That thought chilled her in a way no fire could warm. It didn’t change how she felt about him, though. Wasn’t it just the story of her life? She seemed destined never to have anyone to love.
Why, Lord? Do You want me to be alone? Is there some higher purpose to me never having someone to love? I’m trying to see Your will, but honestly all I see is how lonely I feel. I’m trying, Lord. I’m thankful that You put Jackson in my life to keep me safe from harm, but who is going to keep my heart safe from him? I’m coming to care for him far more than is good. How can that be Your plan?
She stared out the window in silence for a few minutes. The prayer changed as her heart surrendered. I know You know all, Lord. Please help me to trust in You, to trust that You have a plan for me. I will trust in You, oh Lord, my God.
Jackson was a good man. She thanked the Lord for letting her get to kn
ow him. She wasn’t really sorry for wishing she could know him a little bit better. For just a few minutes she let herself daydream about how life could be if she weren’t in witness protection. Imagine if she could embrace a future with him. Imagine if she could fall in love, marry and have lots of little Jacksons.
Callie was still dreaming of playing with toddlers on the floor when she realized Jackson had hung up the phone. He didn’t say anything, but she knew from the look on his face that something was wrong.
She fought for composure. Your will, not mine, oh Lord. “What happened?”
“You’d better come sit down,” Jackson replied.
“You know, I always hate when they say that on television. I hate it even more in real life. Please just tell me what happened.”
“Someone broke into your apartment.”
“Okay.” She swallowed uneasily. That was not good, but she couldn’t return there anyway, so what difference did it really make?
“They didn’t just break in. They trashed the place—obviously looking for someone or something.”
That sounded more serious. “What were they looking for? Do we know if they found it?”
“Presumably they did not.”
His tone sounded ominous. “What makes you say that?” Callie braced herself.
“They also searched—trashed—your classroom.”
“Oh, no!” This was a completely different situation than having her empty apartment trashed. “My babies! Was anyone hurt?”
Jackson shook his head. “No one was in the building at the time. Apparently it happened overnight. The maintenance staff discovered it when they went to unlock the rooms this morning.”
She was silent for a few minutes, taking it all in. “Jackson, what does this mean?”
“Aside from the fact that they’re looking for something?”
“Or someone. Could they still be looking for me?”
“They could. Probably are. But the way the apartment was trashed suggests they were looking for something, not someone. I’m guessing once they realized they’d lost track of you, they needed another way to find whatever it is they’re looking for.”
