Witness Protection

by Holly Copella

  “Damn, girl!”

  Chapter Seven

  As Jackie limped through the doors of the library with use of a borrowed cane, pain shot through her leg and straight into her throat. Her arm was just mostly sore and gave her little trouble, which seemed odd. She wore a black FBI jacket over her borrowed scrub uniform. Thankfully, she was able to wear her own black boots. They were casual with a low heel. Even with the low heel, they were causing discomfort to her injured leg. The fact that they were black hid the traces of blood staining them. Sadly, the blood on them had been more than just her blood. Despite Holden’s tough fed persona, he remained close by her side and lent a hand when she became unsteady. She would have found it endearing or possibly comical if she hadn’t been feeling anxiety about returning to the library.

  Jackie and Holden were accompanied by two women from the forensics unit, a local police officer, and Agent Fields, Holden’s partner at the bureau. Agent Fields was at least ten years older than Holden. He was relatively fit for a middle-aged man, but Jackie figured most federal agents were required to remain in shape. Despite Fields being older than Holden, it appeared as if Holden was the senior agent of the pair. It was her opinion that Fields was better at taking orders than giving them. He didn’t have the same commanding presence as Holden. She likened Holden to the men in her father’s platoon. No matter what their rank, every one of them owned a room when they walked into it. Even in the general population, Jackie could spot a former Navy SEAL from twenty feet away. The six made their way slowly through the main room and entered the adjoining room where Vicki had died instantly from the bullet penetrating her back and undoubtedly directly through her heart.

  “This is where Dexter shot Vicki in the back as we tried to escape,” Jackie informed Holden as the forensic team followed them to the location she indicated.

  Jackie had little difficulty pointing out the exact spot where the librarian collapsed on the floor. All that remained was an excessively clean spot on the hardwood floor. She had to admit, the governor went to great lengths to clean the place in a short period of time, but he had to know forensics would be able to extract traces of blood deep within the wood. The forensics team was already picking up traces with their black lights. She then retraced hers and Vicki’s steps just a few feet to where the bullet had come through the floor, initially tearing into the woman’s hip. The floor had been patched and wood putty filled the hole. The putty hadn’t completely dried, and one of the forensic scientists was easily able to dig out the soft putty to expose the hole.

  “After the librarian was killed, I ran into that room,” she announced and indicated the adjoining room just off the sunroom. “That’s when I got into a physical altercation with Dexter and the governor.”

  “I’ve never met Dexter Smyth,” Agent Fields remarked while studying her, “but I hear he’s pretty intimidating. You actually held your own against him in a fistfight?”

  “Not really a fistfight,” Jackie replied. “I don’t hit so much as kick. Considering the company I kept while growing up, I wouldn’t consider Dexter intimidating. More like a bully with a gun. He’s not really a skilled fighter.”

  Jackie guided them to the next room over. Fields and Holden exchanged looks and raised eyebrows.

  “She’s one tough girl,” Fields muttered.

  “To survive what happened here last night, she’d have to be,” Holden replied then followed Jackie.

  As they continued through the back room attached to the sunroom, the pain in Jackie’s leg was nearly excruciating. She had wished she’d taken Celia up on the offer of an additional dose of oxycodone, but she didn’t want to show weakness in front of Agent Falcone. She wanted him to realize she was strong and could tolerate the pain even if she secretly couldn’t. She didn’t know why she had to be so stubborn. Definitely a trait passed down from her father that she abhorred. Finding the bullet holes in the bookshelves was an easy task. They’d used the same putty to fill in the holes, which was nearly a shade off. Finding one bullet they’d missed would give further credit to her story, but they weren’t having that sort of luck. Jackie had a difficult time pinpointing where Dexter may have lost blood. She knew she shot him twice, but they couldn’t seem to find any residue, even with their special lights.

  Tackling the basement steps was near agonizing for Jackie. She felt as if her leg would break under her own weight and each step caused her indescribable pain. She finally stopped halfway, feeling exhausted and nauseous. Despite her protests, Holden placed her arm over his shoulder and supported most of her weight down the last few steps. When they reached the bottom, she found it difficult to release him. She fought the urge to vomit, though she desperately wanted to. Her head was now pounding in rhythm with the stabbing pain in her thigh, and she felt oddly weak. It was hard to believe she’d managed to escape with her injuries last night, but those same injuries were unbearable not twenty-four hours later.

  “That’s where Harris died,” she said weakly, indicating the floor while making an effort to release Holden.

  He allowed her to pull away just near the railing, which she immediately clung to for support. Forensics was able to find traces of blood beneath the carpet in the porous concrete. Although only speckled, it covered a large area. Holden turned away, seemingly showing no emotion, and stared across the room at nothing. Jackie had seen that look before. It was silent rage. Holden was a ticking time bomb. For the first time, he was probably admitting to himself that one of his own had actually been killed. Agent Fields gave him space, possibly not wanting to be too close in case he did explode. As forensics scoured the room for any traces of bullet holes, Jackie led Agent Fields and the local policeman in the general direction of the fruit cellar toward the back of the basement. Holden was mysteriously absent. Jackie paused by the solid wall where she was certain there had been an opening. Confusion swept over her. She knew she hadn’t been wrong. There was a stone room. She had been in it. It was where Dexter shot Harris. Fields and the officer stared at her with the same puzzled look.

  “This place is a maze of rooms and doors,” Agent Fields announced and casually looked around. “Are you sure it wasn’t one of the other doorways?”

  “No, it was here,” Jackie protested firmly. “The fruit cellar entrance was right here. I’d swear--”

  Holden finally joined them and stared at the solid wall with no visible doorway. He looked back at her and raised his brow in question.

  “So where is it?” Holden demanded with increasing hostility, almost as if he stopped believing everything she’d told him due to this one setback.

  As she stared at the wall, images of last night continued to fill her head. Vicki’s words returned to her. She looked at Holden.

  “Vicki said it was a secret passageway, hidden away,” Jackie informed him. “She’d stumbled upon it.”

  Holden didn’t seem convinced. “Looks like a pretty solid wall to me.”

  “I’m telling you,” she nearly exploded. “The fruit cellar is beyond this wall. He probably stashed their bodies inside. Open this wall, and you’ll find both of them.”

  “That should be a fun court order to get,” Holden scoffed. “Judges are funny about giving permission to knock holes in walls of historic buildings.”

  “I know I’m not asking,” Fields muttered.

  “There has to be a way to open it,” Jackie protested. “If Vicki found it--”

  She looked around the wall itself while deep in thought. The officer smirked and looked at her as if she were crazy. Holden ran his fingers through his hair and avoided looking at her. He obviously wasn’t happy with her or was just miserable in general after seeing where Harris died.

  “It would have to be a trigger as old as the building itself,” she muttered more to herself while scanning the surrounding area for any visible release.

  Jackie started pushing on individual stones, but all seemed secure and solid. Holden glanced around with limited patience then stared at a slight
ly smaller, lighter colored stone near the ceiling. He reluctantly pushed on the stone. A section of stone grinded away from the wall. Agent Fields and the police officer jumped with surprise, not expecting the wall to move. No one was more surprised than Holden. He moved Jackie away from the small opening, removed his gun, and gently pulled the jagged looking doorway open to reveal total darkness. Agent Fields and the officer removed their weapons as well and stepped in front of Jackie, keeping her behind them. Holden removed a flashlight from his pocket, shined it around the room, and then felt the wall.

  A light flickered and brightened the room. As Holden, Fields, and the officer entered, Jackie stepped in behind them. The room was exactly how Jackie remembered it from last night. To her surprise, there weren’t any bodies. Harris’ blood remained on the floor where he’d been shot, and she easily noticed the bullet hole in the wall just inside the entrance. They hadn’t bothered cleaning up evidence within the fruit cellar, possibly thinking they’d never find it, but Jackie just couldn’t believe the bodies weren’t there. Holden frowned and replaced his gun to his shoulder holster.

  “Well,” he said with a deep sigh, “so much for hiding the bodies in the fruit cellar. He must have loaded them into a car and disposed of them elsewhere.”

  “A little risky, don’t you think?” she asked and leaned against the wall for support. Her leg was causing her serious pain now. “He couldn’t have known I’d wreck the car. He didn’t know he had that kind of time.”

  “Then he called others to assist,” Holden informed her. “The bodies obviously aren’t here. We have Harris’ blood, bullet casings, and a bullet in the wall over there.” He looked back at Jackie. “We have more than enough evidence to back your version of what happened last night.”

  “I suspect we won’t catch up with the governor or Dexter until his injures have healed,” Fields announced.

  “I’m sure Dexter is smart enough to have ditched the gun someplace where we’ll never find it to match the bullets we’d recovered,” Holden added.

  Jackie studied Holden and drifted off into her own world. Holden stared at her a long moment in silence. She snapped out of her trance when he finally spoke.

  “Without the bodies, what little physical evidence we have won’t put either away--especially implicating the governor in murder,” Holden informed her then drew a deep breath. “We might get lucky with Dexter, if his scars match where you say you’d shot him.” There was an uncomfortable silence. “Your testimony is all we have, Jackie. The only thing getting them a murder conviction is your account of what went down. I don’t think I have to tell you what position you’re already in.”

  Jackie allowed her eyes to stray to the stained blood on the floor. The entire scene played out in her mind like a horror movie on an endless loop. Jackie was still stunned at what she had gone through and witnessed just last night. She knew she tried to save Harris, but she’d been a second too late.

  “I knew him maybe five minutes--” she said softly while staring at the bloodstain on the floor.

  Holden appeared puzzled. “Excuse me?”

  “Agent Benton,” she announced and met Holden’s gaze. “I only knew him for five minutes, but I liked him.”

  “He was a good man,” Agent Fields interjected softly.

  “I really don’t see what choice I have,” she announced proudly. “I need to testify. The governor and Dexter need to pay for what they did.”

  Holden fidgeted slightly and drew a deep breath while staring into her eyes. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Eight

  One week later. Jackie sat in the large conference room within the federal building. She alternated rocking in the leather chair and resting her chin on her arms across the table. She was bored and the officer standing just inside the room by the closed door wasn’t much for conversation. He was young and appeared to be operating according to the official police rulebook. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so serious, she wouldn’t mind her incarceration nearly as much. Jackie heard arguing voices just outside the conference room and immediately sat up straight, becoming alert. She easily recognized Holden’s voice, as it was dominant. She was actually surprised she’d remembered his voice. She hadn’t seen him since their visit to the library the day after the killings.

  Of course, that may have had something to do with her recovery being spent at the state hospital in lockdown. She had to admit, Holden placing her in a high security mental institution was ingenious, but she couldn’t say she enjoyed her accommodations. She had spent the week on an empty floor with special, government trained doctors, nurses, and guards. The company wasn’t bad, but she found it difficult to sleep knowing there were criminally insane killers on the floors beneath her. The possibility that she’d be forgotten and left there to rot had also occurred to her on more than one occasion. Paranoia and boredom often went hand in hand. As the arguing voices outside the door trailed off, her enthusiasm faded. She again rocked in her comfortable chair and glanced at the young officer standing guard.

  “I’ve been here two hours,” Jackie groaned lowly. “I think rigor mortis is setting in.”

  The officer offered her a sympathetic smile for the first time. He then seemed aware of his own aching body, having stood the entire two hours. He shifted uncomfortably. The arguing was again heard and the door finally opened. Jackie was ready to jump out of her chair. She needed to stretch her legs and perhaps breathe some fresh air. The entire week of confinement was killing her! Holden and two U.S. Marshals, Phil and Carter, entered the room. She’d briefly met the two, middle-aged Marshals that morning. They were a little too straight for her liking. Phil had thinning, light brown hair and more of a youthful face. He was lean, but almost certainly built athletic. Carter had a little more girth to his stature. To her, he was possibly former military, but he almost seemed too much of a pretty boy. Of course, she’d met a few ‘pretty boys’ who were Navy SEALs as well. Looking like James Bond only toughened them more. No SEAL wanted to be told he was a pretty boy, even if it were true. The customary beating usually followed after that sort of comment.

  Holden approached Jackie at the table. She wasn’t sure why, but she was oddly enthusiastic to see him. He actually looked good to her. Not that she didn’t think he was attractive when she’d first met him, but he did have that dry, federal agent personality. Smiling wasn’t high on their list of priorities. Still, she was happy to see him. The situation now was different from when they were last thrust together after the murders. It gave her a chance to admire him for the handsome man he was and even entertain a wayward sexual thought or two. Holden paused before her chair and met her gaze with his own, serious look.

  “U.S. Marshals will be in charge of protecting you until the trial,” he informed her.

  That was it? Not even an insincere ‘hey’? As she stared at him, she began to wonder why she had been so glad to see him and if he could be a bigger prick.

  “Good morning to you too, Agent Falcone,” she retorted while folding her arms across her chest.

  Celia had been right about the corncob up his classified posterior. Holden needed to work on his delightful personality. On the bright side, she was no longer entertaining any sexual fantasies involving him. He’d successfully turned her off in one failed swoop. Her snarling comment took him by surprise. He managed a tiny smile and reluctantly played along.

  “Good morning, Jackie.”

  “That’s better,” she replied and folded her hands across her lap. “Please tell me you come with good news.”

  His charming disposition was short-lived and it was back to business as usual. “Well, on the bright side, you’re being sprung from your padded cell, but it’s all downhill from there.” He sat on the edge of the desk near her and retained his serious look. “I’m not going to lie to you, Jackie, you’re on the governor’s hit list at this point whether you testify or not. Protective custody is your only option.”

  He didn’t have to tell her, she was already aware o
f her situation. If she hadn’t been, her weeklong vacation at the insane asylum was enough to tell her she was in trouble.

  “Right before Harris died, he looked at me and smiled,” she informed Holden. “If I let them get away with killing him, that smile will haunt me forever.” Her look was serious. “Nothing will stop me from testifying.”

  “You don’t know how much that means to me,” Holden replied with a more sincere smile.

  Jackie drew a deep breath and asked the question she feared. “How long until the trial?”

  “We haven’t officially charged either yet,” Carter announced as he casually sat across the table from her. “We’re still trying to locate the governor and his assistant, but it’s going to be at least two to twelve months.”

  She suddenly shot a glare at Carter as her mouth fell open. “It’s been a week,” Jackie scoffed and attempted to control her rising temper. “How can you not locate a prominent figure like the governor?”

  “All we know is he’s still overseas somewhere,” Phil announced in a tone meant to soothe her increasing hostility. He failed. “The CIA has been trying to track him down in France, where his passport indicated he had visited last.” Phil then glared at Holden. “But certain federal agents--”

  Holden immediately stood, turned toward Phil, and glared at him. “I’ve been more than cooperative with the CIA,” he snapped lowly and indicated Jackie with a firmly pointing finger. “You know damned well I should be in charge of protecting this witness. Agent Benton was one of ours--not yours.”

  “Protecting witnesses falls under U.S. Marshals’ jurisdiction, Agent Falcone,” Carter suddenly interjected from across the table. “You’re free to leave this meeting anytime.” He pointed toward the guard behind him. “The door is right behind you.”