A piece of chip almost stuck in my throat. I gulped several ounces of water, then coughed. “Give me a day or two, okay?”
Becky looked at Luis. “Let me talk with her, woman to woman.”
He clicked his briefcase closed. “Okay. Two days. That’s all, though. I’ll be back on Thursday.”
Both of our eyes watched him round the corner before Becky put the question to me. “Why haven’t you filed? You can’t still love him?”
“No.” I shook my head. “And I know the Bible says adultery is just cause. Jake told me.”
“So?”
The truth lodged in my throat where the pita chip had. “I have to forgive Robert first. I’m still working on that. Only then will I be able to really take this to the Lord and seek His counsel.”
“Okay.” Becky sighed and rose to leave. “Do what you need to do. Just remember you only have forty-eight hours. See you Thursday.”
* * *
I spent most of the night on my knees. I cried, I prayed. But finally, I found it in my heart to begin to forgive. Now I knew I could testify without an ounce of vengeance. But divorce him? Something inside made me hesitate.
Was it my new-found faith? I’d Googled Christian views on divorce. Jesus said in the book of Matthew that infidelity was grounds for divorce. But he also said what God had joined together no one was to separate, and if a man married a divorced woman, he’d be committing adultery. That seemed harsh, but if it was true, then Tom would never agree to marry me even if they allowed him to come with me into WITSEC.
I paced the floor. Faith issues aside, I wasn’t ready to feel that last stab of pain in my heart. Could a tiny part of me still feel love? Or, was my hesitancy because the divorce would slap my own face with how naïve and stupid I’d been? I obviously had a lot more to sort through than a bunch of papers on my desk.
The next morning, I dug out the legal documents. Still, my hand hovered over the highlighted place I was to sign to begin the process. I’d been raised believing marriage vows were for life, better or worse. However, marriage was supposed to be about trust and fidelity. Mine never had either of those. Did that mean it was never real?
I called Jake and left a message.
Within ten minutes he responded. “I have three visitations to the hospitals this afternoon, sorry. You can come into the office early tomorrow morning and we can talk, but the bottom line is this, Jen.” I heard his chair squeak. “It’s between you and God. He’s the one you need to talk with.”
My throat tightened. “I have, all last night. This morning, too. I am at a place where I think I can begin to work on forgiving Robert. I’m just not sure I can end my marriage. It was real to me. I meant my vows even if he didn’t.”
“Is he the man you thought you were marrying, though? Was he ever that man?”
The question stabbed me in the gut. “I don’t know.”
“When you can answer that, you will have answered whether or not you should sign those papers. I won’t push you either way.” Jake stopped. The silence at the other end at first made me wonder if he’d hung up.
Then, his voice came through. “One thing I do know, Jen. God’s forgiveness is vast. So is His ability to change people. Robert knew of Him once. That seed is still buried somewhere in his hardened heart. Maybe his love for you is there as well.”
* * *
On Thursday, Luis set the documents before me. “Your written testimony is all that is required. You won’t have to appear in court and face him.”
I felt fifteen tons lift from my chest. “Thank you.”
Luis handed me a pen to sign the agreement to testify. I scrawled my name, Mrs. Jennifer Wade Westlaw. The words blared back at me, a stark reality of the other papers still on my desk.
“Have you thought about the other issue?”
“I’ve thought of little else.” My voice cracked. “It’s all so much at once.”
He patted my hand. “It’s okay. None of this can be easy. Let’s talk about your relocation first. Becky will be going with you to settle you in. She’ll be your elderly auntie.”
“You will?”
She placed her arm over my shoulder. “Sure. And you’ll like where you’re going. And the career we’ve lined up for you.”
“Where am I to go?”
Becky scooted forward. “We’ve set you up in Bonita Springs, Florida at a public library as an assistant to the librarian. It’s located across from the middle school. You can also teach English as a second language there. We can get your teaching license in order since you already have the credentials and degree. Would you like to return to teaching?”
My eyes swam with joy. “Yes,” I whispered. “It’s not math, but… yes.”
Luis slid the papers in front of me. “All you need to do is sign and we’ll begin the process. You will still be a widow. Your husband did die in an auto accident, just in San Antonio, Texas where you were married. But you were born and raised in Abilene and went to school there. They’ll drill you on all that.”
My heart sank. “I had hoped the lying was over.”
Becky took my hand. “I think God will understand.”
I wasn’t so sure. “I’ll live a normal life? I can go out, go to church, go to the beach…” I opened my hands. “Without any Feds watching my every move?”
“Absolutely. You will have an agent assigned to you if you ever need help. You will also have access to confidential counseling through the U.S. Marshals to help you adjust.”
I slouched backwards into the chair, my hand on my chin.
She patted my knee, the way my mother used to when I’d had a bad day at school. “Jen, it’s their job. They are there for you, 24/7, if and when you need them. No pressure. And initially, I’ll be around as well.”
I inhaled her words. “Okay. Just for information on Robert?”
They shot each other a glance, then Becky shrugged. “Yes, he is who we’re after.”
I squared my shoulders. “I want more. I want immunity for Tom, uh, Travis Walters.”
Luis leaned in. “You realize you can never, ever, see him again.”
I nodded rapidly. “I understand.” But a whisper in my heart refused to believe it. He’d find a way. That day at his duplex was not the final act. I hung every ounce of hope on the idea.
Becky looked at Luis. “Can she know?”
Luis shook his head.
“Know what?” A cold splash of worry spread across my breast. “Tell me. Is he okay?”
My female companion reached over and flicked off the recorder. “She has the right to know, Luis.”
He slunk back. “Okay. I guess. Off the record.”
Becky looked to me. “Tom turned himself in three days ago. He’s already told the Bureau everything he knows. Your testimony will only confirm what he’s said.”
I grabbed at the proverbial straw and held tight. “So he is cleared of all charges? He’s free? Or does he have to go into WITSEC as well?” Perhaps we could be together after all.
Becky opened her mouth.
Luis cleared his throat. “No more. She is not authorized to be read in on that.” Then he turned to me. “Your friend will be fine, Jen. He is still of value to us. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
I peered deeply into his male eyes, and finally found truth. If Tom continued with the agency, he’d embark on a path I couldn’t follow. But he would be fine. Above all else that was what mattered. I nodded and signed the Memorandum of Understanding, acknowledging I could have no ties to my past and no contact with anyone from it either.
Had the Feds solved my moral dilemma? As I saw it, there was no need to file for the divorce after all. With a few strokes of ink, Mrs. Jennifer Wade Westlaw would no longer exist.
* * *
I called Jake with the news. “Robert was sentenced to thirty years without parole. He’ll be sixty-two when he gets out.”
Jake’s voice was flat. “Have you decided what to do?”
“I
seriously doubt if I can wait that long to see if time, and perhaps any tiny bit of conscience, has changed him.” A nervous giggle spewed from my lips. “Besides, I can’t have any contact with him starting tomorrow.”
“You’re going into WITSEC, then.”
I nodded into the receiver. “I have to. That won’t stop me from praying for a miracle though, for Robert’s sake more than mine. One thing I’d learned—no one is out of reach from God’s mercy if he asks for it. If God can forgive Robert, I must continue to try to as well.”
His chair squeaked. I pictured him leaning back, a wise grin on his face. “Good, Jen. Good.”
“Jake. As I prayed, the affirmation I could not file to dissolve my marriage grew. My vow was to God as well as to Robert, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. That means only Robert’s death can free me.” I swallowed back the sorrow. “But then, the only man I want to be with is banned from any contact with me, so what does it matter? I’ve decided to leave it all in God’s hands—or I’ll try to do so.”
He sighed. “Daily. It’s the only way.”
“So you’ve said. How can I ever thank you?” The “goodbye” caught in my throat.
“It’s been my pleasure.” Jake’s deep breath came through the phone. “I will be praying fervently for you, Jen. And for Tom, and even for Robert. Go with God, my friend. He’ll give you strength.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Two months later, hurricane season hit Florida. Major storms were predicted. I had a small, two bedroom bungalow about three blocks from the library and a mile from the beach. Tom Cat loved to watch the birds flitter in the front yard’s oak tree beyond the living room window. According to my elderly neighbor across the street, he spent hours perched there each day until I came home.
I found a church within a few miles from my house and joined a small Bible study group. The pastor was happily married, middle aged and balding. No temptations there.
However, I’d caught the eye of one of the deacons. A widower, Brad, in his late thirties had lost his high school sweetheart-turned-wife of eighteen years to ovarian cancer two years ago. His son was a freshman in high school and his daughter a junior. Brad was a social worker who liked cats and refused to wear any cologne. Besides, his eyes were brown. I’d had enough of green or blue ones to last me a lifetime, and then some. He seemed honest, unpretentious, and he made me laugh. Still, I let him know my heart was not free. We could only be friends.
I let him believe it was due to the fact I was a new widow, the legitimate lie WITSEC had created for me. In a way, it was true, I guess. I was mourning two-fold—the death of the man I thought I knew so well, and the loss of the man I’d never get the chance to know better.
* * *
Mrs. Burnett, the head librarian, was down with the flu, so I agreed to open. The air this Saturday morning held a noticeable stillness. No usual rustle of leaves in the trees from a sea breeze. The clouds were overcast and a dark, bluish gray. An eerie calm lay over the world.
“This,” I told Tom Cat as I stroked his fur, “is what they call the hush before the storm.” A tropical storm was predicted later that day moving in from the Gulf of Mexico. I kissed his fur, told him goodbye, and closed the front door. When I looked back, he was already in the window.
I tucked my raincoat tighter around me and quickened my pace. My heels clanked on the concrete sidewalk and echoed against the rows of houses, each similar to mine. A few blocks later, I took the back steps into the library. After I’d disarmed the alarm, I wound my way through the bookshelves to the main check-in and check-out area. I punched the remote button under the return desk drawer to unlock the main door. The digital clock read 9:01.
No rush of bodies waiting to use the library followed. It was, after all, the weekend. People would filter in as the morning lengthened, unless the storm hit.
My English as a Second Language class wasn’t to begin until 10:00 a.m. I fixed a cup of Earl Grey, and was logging in the overnight drop returns when eight-year-old Joshua Holder dashed in.
“Mrs. Williams. Come quick.”
I rushed to the front door.
At the bottom of the stoop, swaddled in a pink blanket, lay a round-cheeked, Hispanic baby with ebony hair and tanned skin. She couldn’t have been more than a month or so old. I bolted down the steps and knelt to pick up the infant. “How did you get here, wee one?”
“This was taped to her.” Joshua handed me a small card. “Read it.”
My business card. But how? Who? On the back, a distinctly scrawled note. She’s yours if you want her.
My fingers became icy. A baby. My heart’s desire. But…mine?
With a coo, the infant turned her face toward me. I gasped. Gray-green eyes, not the normal Hispanic brown, focused on my face. A shudder zipped through me. I knew those eyes. This was Robert and Marisol’s baby. How could this be? No one was to know where I lived.
As if a shade had been pulled down, everything around us darkened. A gust of wind swirled dead leaves off the stoop in a lopsided waltz. Thunder rumbled.
“Let’s take her inside. It’s about to rain.” Joshua darted up the steps and opened the library door. “Ms. Williams?”
“Right.” As I gathered the baby into my arms, I scanned the block for anyone watching. Across the street, a well-built man in tan Dockers and a black T-shirt raised his hand in a wave. The approaching weather whipped dark locks about his face—a face I longed to caress. I could almost smell the aroma of his citrus-musk cologne drift across the street and melt into me.
“Who’s that?” Joshua scrunched his nose.
“Just a man saying hello, I guess.”
I waved back as a hopeful vision of Tom dashing across the street to take me into his arms yanked my heartstrings. Instead, he dipped an imaginary Stetson in my direction and back-stepped further from me.
The momentary giddiness faded as reality set in. This cooing baby in my arms meant Tom had kept his vow to Robert. But so had I—and Tom knew it.
We were both still bound—Tom by the law to have no contact with me. I by morality to my husband. Neither of us could live a lie. If the Almighty destined us for each other, we’d have to leave the how and when in His hands.
Our eyes locked on to each other. In his, I saw a love deeper than I thought I could ever know. I also saw trust that somehow God would find a way for us to share that love. I nodded back with a smile as my heart pounded—I’ll wait. I’ll wait.
Tom’s lips curved into a grin, and then with that famous wink, he turned to walk away.
Despite the brewing storm overhead, a hush fell over my soul.
Don’t miss Legitimate Lies by Julie B Cosgrove, available now from Prism Book Group!
Can Jen and Tom finally admit their love for each other, or will the twisted snares of witness protection, her husband Robert’s vendetta, and a dark secret Jen has hidden in the crevices of her heart snatch any chance of happiness for them both? Does she tell Tom the truth? It’s a risk she is not sure she can take even if Robert dies—for certain this time.
The story continues in Legitimate Lies. Here’s a peek…
CHAPTER ONE
Did I really want this baby? Yes.
Wait…no. Absolutely not.
The barricade of lies I’d droned into my head over the past few months, crumbled the moment little Josh Holder discovered her on the front steps of the Bonita Springs Public Library. She lay on the hard concrete, swaddled in a pink, crocheted throw. Innocent eyes, tucked into chestnut skin, widened as they peered into mine. Thick, straight strands encircled her head in a coal-colored halo.
I knew at once who she was—and that wounded me deeper than I’d ever imagined it could.
“Look. It was taped to her blanket.” Josh teetered on his eight-year-old tiptoes to show me.
My business card—“Sheila Williams-Library Assistant.” What on earth? I tucked a fly-away strand of auburn hair behind my ear and flipped it over. On the back, in a decidedly masc
uline scrawl, it read, “She’s yours if you want her.”
Mine? The card trembled between my fingers. A tumult of emotions swirled inside me like a Dervish dancer. Anguish because she was my now-imprisoned husband, Robert’s, illegitimate child. Anticipation she could be what I secretly desired—a baby of my own. Anger that she existed at all. The inner turmoil mimicked the twirling leaves on the sidewalk in front of the library whipped into a tiny tempest by the tropical storm brewing above us.
Thunder rumbled. Or did my heart thump a warning inside my eardrums? No one from my past in Texas was supposed to know I now lived in Florida—except for Becky, who helped me settle in my new life. But she wouldn’t tell. Her job depended on that. So, who could have dropped off this child?
I scanned the city block. Then, I saw him. Tom. The one man I’d almost trusted. A smile eased across my mouth. He’d kept his promise to Robert after all. He’d made sure the baby lived. Now, Robert’s hold on him was broken. The old Navy buddy debt paid.
Oh, how I envied Tom’s freedom from my husband’s evil vice grip. My thumb rubbed the place where my wedding ring once sat on my finger. My faith told me I remained shackled to Robert—for better or for worse—even though the Feds had changed my identity and my marital status when I entered witness protection.
Tom tipped an imaginary Stetson in my direction. My mouth opened, but no words came out. There was too much to say, and none of it mattered now. So all I did was return the gesture with a slight nod, hoping he’d hear my heart beat for his.
Josh tugged on my sleeve. “Who’s that?”
“Just a man saying hello, I guess.”
But Tom had been so much more. My husband’s friend, turned Federal asset, had become my protector. My comforter. And a fellow victim of Robert’s manipulative schemes. As our feelings for each other developed, he represented the forbidden fruit—a constant reminder of the wrong choice I’d made with Robert before God and man at the altar five years ago amidst roses, white lace, and taffeta. But, a vow was a vow.
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