Guarding the Witness

by Margaret Daley

  “We know where he’s going. Even if we’re wrong, it’s being tracked. No, you’re the reason we doubled back. Your car is being towed as we speak. There’ll be no trace of you.”

  “How did you know I was inside?”

  “We bugged Jefferson’s house and have been listening in on his conversations. We’ve gotten some good info, but today was the best because you’re going to tell me where you stashed Ms. Jackson.”

  “You think?” Brody’s gun was holstered at his side. Grabbing it and firing it before both men shot him was impossible. He wasn’t a quick draw, just a precise shooter.

  “Yes. It’s over for her. I’ll promise you one thing. If you tell me now rather than after I torture you, I’ll make sure she dies fast. She won’t even know what hit her. But if you make me draw this whole ordeal out, I’ll make sure she dies slowly and painfully. The same goes for you.”

  “And once I tell you, what guarantee do I have you’ll keep your word? I’ve heard you enjoy killing.”

  Mankiller grinned, a sinister expression that wordlessly confirmed the rumors circulating about him. “My word.”

  Brody laughed, relieving the tension that had a chokehold on him. But only for a second.

  Mankiller’s face firmed into a deadly look, and the assassin closed the short space between them bringing the back of his hand across Brody’s face. “That’s for your disrespectful attitude.”

  Pain tumbled around inside Brody’s head. His ears rang, and the taste of blood coated his lips.

  “Let’s go. We’re gonna leave a little message for Jefferson. He may not be as safe as he thinks. Your dead body in his bed will get that message across.”

  * * *

  Arianna sat in the telephone company’s truck with Gus driving. Going up and down the streets around Jefferson’s house had produced nothing. No Brody. No car he’d driven. Arianna’s concern mushroomed. Every nerve shouted that something was wrong.

  “I don’t see how we missed him. There’s really only one direct route from here to Dan’s place. We didn’t see him on the road.” Arianna sat behind Gus with Charlie in the front passenger seat. The only way for her to look out was the windshield and part of Charlie’s side window that his body didn’t block, but they had all been looking for the white Chevy.

  “What do we do now?” Gus asked, the truck idling a few houses down from the prosecutor’s.

  “Maybe the man is there and can tell us when Brody left,” Arianna said and finished piling her hair up then putting on the hard hat.

  “No way,” Charlie said between clenched teeth.

  “The street is deserted. It’s early. We’re in disguise and we all have vests on as well as hard hats.”

  Charlie shoved his door open. “I’ll go to the house and check around. You two stay here. If I have to I’ll ring the doorbell and pose as a telephone repairman.”

  “No, we need to park in front and really appear as repairmen. We’re dressed for the part. Besides, I’m not sitting here and waiting. I don’t have a good feeling about this.” As the truck crept forward, Arianna pointed toward the prosecutor’s place. “There’s a van in the driveway. I’ve seen it somewhere. What if some of Rainwater’s thugs have Brody and Mr. Jefferson? If we sit here having a little discussion about it, they could be murdered by the time we make a move. I won’t lose him. It’s not up for any more debate.” She withdrew her gun. “If I have to, I’ll go alone.”

  Charlie glared at her. “Girl, you’re stubborn.”

  “She’s got a point.” Gus increased his speed until he was at the house and parked the truck along the curb.

  Arianna crawled over a few boxes of equipment and put her hands on the back doors to open them.

  “Hold on. The least you can do is wait and walk between us. We’ll come around like we’re checking on something in the back and you can get out then.” Charlie threw a frown over his shoulder before he climbed from the truck.

  A few seconds later, Arianna hopped down to the street, her gun back in her pocket with her hand on it. “Let’s go. From the street about the only house that has a vantage point to see Mr. Jefferson’s place is right across the road from him. Thick vegetation blocks the other neighbors. That’ll shield us some while we snoop around.”

  “When we find Brody, he is going to chew us up and spit us out for putting you in jeopardy,” Charlie said.

  “You haven’t. I would have gone by myself. You’re protecting me.”

  Sandwiched between Gus and Charlie, with her gaze trained on the house, especially the windows which were mostly shuttered, Arianna went down the drive toward the back of the two-story house. At the van Charlie signaled Gus to go around one way while he and Arianna circled it in the other direction. She tried the van’s door. It was locked. She pressed her face against the dark window and saw some rope and a couple of guns down on the floor.

  “Something is wrong. Even if Brody isn’t here, the prosecutor might be in trouble.”

  “Let’s go inside.” Charlie removed his set of picks and made his way to the back door, which protected him from prying neighbors.

  Arianna withdrew her gun from her pocket with Gus doing likewise. They stood guard while Charlie worked on the lock then opened the door into the kitchen.

  * * *

  Mankiller’s fist connected with Brody’s jaw. Again and again, knocking him farther into a desk chair in what must be Jefferson’s office. The other thug worked to tie Brody’s hands behind his back.

  For a second Mankiller paused as he switched fists. Stars swam before Brody’s eyes. Krasnov yanked the ropes around Brody’s wrists so tight his blood flow was cut off, and the ends of Brody’s fingers began to tingle.

  “That was just me letting off some steam because you sent me on a merry chase up north.” Mankiller stepped away and pulled a switchblade from his pocket. “What I’d really like to use is this.”

  “Who’s the mole in the Marshals’ office?” Brody asked, through swollen lips.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mankiller flicked his attention to his partner working on tying Brody’s legs. “Make sure his feet are bound tight, too.” When his gaze reconnected with Brody’s face, he grinned that sinister smile that turned a person’s blood to ice. “I’ll tell you right before you die. That is if you don’t test my patience. Now you tell me. Where is Ms. Jackson?”

  * * *

  Arianna heard the noise—flesh hitting flesh—followed by a man saying something. She only caught a couple of the words, but the sound of her name confirmed her sense of danger. Whether it was Brody, the prosecutor or both being tortured, she didn’t know. She caught Charlie’s attention then Gus’s and gestured toward the hallway where another male voice responded to the first one. Brody. For a second, relief washed through her until the sound of flesh hitting flesh began echoing again, filling Arianna with anger and concern.

  Gus indicated he would check the other part of the house while she and Charlie found Brody and the man with the coarse voice. Memories of when she had interrupted Rainwater interrogating Thomas Perkins flashed into her mind. Perkins ended up dead.

  Please, Father, keep Brody safe.

  Arianna sneaked down the hallway toward a room at the end. The feel of her Glock in her hand gave her comfort. This would end better than with Perkins. Surprise was on their side. When she came to the door into the room, her position afforded her a clear sight to what was going on, and her blood boiled. Brody’s face was worse than after he encountered the man outside the cabin. Two men towered over Brody who was tied to a chair. The smaller one, Stefan Krasnov, held a gun but his arm was straight at his side, the barrel pointed at the floor.

  Thank You, God.

  Then Arianna swung her attention to the large, bulky man with short, dark hair. He clasped a switchblade in his hand, which accounted f
or a thin line sliced across Brody’s neck. The wound bled down his front.

  “Tell me where she is and this will end quick.” The big man pointed at Brody’s face with the knife. “Do you need more motivation?”

  Brody’s response was a glare.

  Arianna shoved down the anger rising in her. It could hinder her efficiency. She looked at Charlie and indicated two, then pointed in the direction she wanted him to go when they entered the room.

  Charlie nodded, his gun up.

  Using her fingers, she counted to three, then swung into the office. “Drop your weapons,” she said in the deadliest voice she could muster.

  She cocked her gun, ready for the men to resist. The large man, the one she had her Glock trained on, whirled, rage mottling his face. Mankiller glanced from her to Charlie, who pointed his weapon at Krasnov’s chest.

  Mankiller started to bring his arm up and back, as though to throw the knife.

  “I’ll shoot you before it leaves your hand. Drop the knife.”

  The thud from Krasnov tossing his gun on the floor resonated through the air—a sweet sound. Now if only Mankiller would do the same.

  “Now,” she clipped out.

  Indecision warred in Mankiller’s face for a moment, then a noise from the hallway pulled his attention away from her.

  “Good thing I brought a couple of pairs of handcuffs along. Looks like we’ll need them,” Gus said as he came into the office.

  Mankiller released the knife, which fell to the floor.

  “Kick it away.” Arianna didn’t drop her vigil and wouldn’t until these two were behind bars.

  “You, too. Kick the gun away,” Charlie said, next to Arianna.

  “Gus, this would be a great time to use those handcuffs. Brody?” It took all her willpower not to go to him. Not until the two thugs were secured.

  “I’ve been through worse.” His words sounded garbled from his swollen, cut lips.

  After both men were handcuffed, Arianna made sure Charlie and Gus had their weapons on the pair before she put hers back in her pocket, then rushed to untie Brody. As soon as she freed his hands, she turned to his legs and undid the rope about them while he used his shirt to help stop the bleeding at his neck.

  “Be right back. I’m going to get you something better to use.” Arianna hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a towel then looked around for a first aid kit. Nothing.

  After she returned with the dishtowel, she went from bathroom to bathroom until she found some items to take care of his injuries. She knew he would refuse to go to the hospital until after she had testified.

  When she came back into the office, Charlie had used the rope to tie the two men together on the floor. “Where’s Gus?”

  “Getting the rest of the rope in their van. They won’t get away until we can call the police to come pick them up.” Charlie tightened the loops around both Mankiller and Krasnov’s legs, making it difficult for them to roll or stand up.

  “They look like mummies made out of rope,” she said and bridged the distance between her and Brody.

  “I think that’s appropriate.” Brody tried to stand and swayed.

  Arianna steadied him. “Is there any chance I can talk you into going to the hosp—”

  “Not a snowball’s chance in the Mojave Desert.”

  “That’s what I thought. I’ve got gauze to wrap around your neck.”

  “You’re not going to make me look like a mummy, are you?”

  She laughed. “I’ll pass. We don’t have the time. I’ll patch you up the best I can and the second I have testified, you’re going to the hospital. No arguments.”

  “I’m fine—”

  “If you could see your face right now, you wouldn’t be saying that.” She helped him to a loveseat and sat down next to him. “Now this may sting some.”

  “Not as bad as before, when you used patching me up to take out your frustration because we didn’t give ourselves up to Mankiller in the forest.”

  “True. This’ll be a piece of cake.” Arianna opened an antiseptic swab and as gently as she could, started taking care of the worst first—the cut on his neck. The sight of Brody, battered and cut, knotted her stomach. All because he was protecting her.

  The two assassins lay trussed on the floor while Charlie and Gus anchored them to the massive mahogany desk nearby so they couldn’t scoot to the door.

  “You aren’t going to make it. You’ve got a large bounty on your head,” Mankiller said with a cackle.

  Charlie took the towel Brody had used and stuffed it into Mankiller’s mouth. “There’s no reason we have to put up with his ravings.”

  Ten minutes later Arianna held on to Brody, and they all headed for the truck.

  “As soon as we get to the courthouse and inside, Charlie, call the police on those two guys in Jefferson’s house. I’ll tell the prosecutor what happened so he’ll know.” Brody hoisted himself into the back of the phone truck.

  Arianna climbed into the back with him while Gus drove and Charlie sat where he had before.

  The former FBI agent tossed a phone repairman’s uniform for Brody to Arianna. “He needs to put it on.”

  She started to help Brody when he grasped her hands and said, “I can do it myself. I’m not an invalid.”

  She frowned. He’d allowed her to hold him as they’d walked to the truck, which surprised her. The closer they had come to the vehicle the stronger Brody appeared as though he’d used the trek to regain what he needed to finish his job.

  “Fine.” She turned her back on him and gave him privacy while Gus pulled away from the curb.

  Every muscle tightened into a hard ball as Arianna stared out the windshield and into the right side mirror as they traveled toward the courthouse. The traffic picked up as the truck neared downtown. The hammering of her heartbeat increased, too.

  Dressed in his uniform, Brody sat behind Charlie and kept an eye on the left side mirror out front. “When we pull up to the service entrance, we need to act as if we’re telephone repairmen. I’m sure there’s someone watching. We’ll take out equipment to carry inside, but make sure you can get to your weapon fast. Without making it too obvious we’re guarding you, Arianna, you’ll be in the middle. Gus, you’ll be on one side. You two are almost the same height. I want them to think she’s a man. The moustache should help.”

  Arianna removed it from her pocket and used facial glue to put it on. “Is it on straight?”

  Brody nodded, a smile lighting his eyes. “You don’t look half-bad in a moustache.”

  “That’s just what a gal wants to hear,” she said with a chuckle. The act of laughing eased some of the tension in her body.

  He winked at her. “I aim to please.”

  The heat of a blush moved up her neck and onto her face. She rarely flushed. She’d learned with three older brothers not to. It only made their teasing worse. That Brody could get her to blush only reinforced the effect this man had on her. But before her doubts and regrets about her life to come took over, she pushed them away. If she had thought of not going into WitSec after testifying, what Mankiller had said earlier about a bounty on her head clinched it. She couldn’t risk hurting the people she loved—including Brody.

  Gus pulled up to the service entrance. Both men in the front climbed from the truck and opened the back doors. Arianna and Brody hopped down, along with the equipment that would make their disguise believable. Together they strode to Pete’s entrance. He passed them through, giving them badges to wear. Not a word was exchanged except what was necessary. Gus cased the right side of the hall while Brody the left. Because Charlie was taller, he peered over Arianna and kept an eye out in front as well as behind them.

  Arianna stuck her hand into her pocket with her gun and clasped its handle. Brody slowed his step as t
hey neared the elevator and paused, waiting until they could ride it alone. But at the last moment a man stopped the doors from closing. When they reopened, two men entered the elevator. Brody fixed his gaze on the one closest to him while Gus checked out the other rider.

  Sweat coated Arianna’s forehead and upper lip. Her pulse rate accelerated. When the doors slid open on their floor, for a few seconds her feet were rooted to the ground. Brody touched her arm, and she moved forward. The courtroom where the trial was taking place was only yards away. Two guards stood at the double doors. What if one or both of them were killers?

  Another couple of steps and a commotion at the end of the hallway riveted the attention of the few people in the hallway. In their planning for this, Brody had stipulated that Charlie be the one in their group to check out anything that might be considered a diversion while Gus and he kept to the plan—moving forward with Arianna, scanning their designated area.

  “A man and woman fighting. The woman slapped the man. Two men pulled them apart,” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

  Staged? Arianna’s heartbeat continued to thump rapidly against her chest.

  As they neared the door, Brody and Gus withdrew their badges and IDs. “We’re delivering a witness. Arianna Jackson. Mr. Jefferson is expecting her.”

  Each guard scrutinized the identification then looked them all up and down. Arianna removed the moustache and hardhat, shaking out her long silver-blond hair.

  “Just a moment.” One guard went into the courtroom.

  A rivulet of sweat trickled down into her eye. Her three protectors squeezed in close, forming a semicircle around her while panning the long hallway. The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

  The guard came back with Mr. Jefferson who smiled at her. When he looked at Brody, the prosecutor’s forehead creased. “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you after she testifies.”

  “She is to come in with her escort,” the prosecutor said to the two men on guard at the door.

  The guard to her right ran the wand down Gus’s length and his gun set it off.