Reluctant Witness

by Barton, Sara M.

  For so long, I wondered how I had come to be in this mess. Neither of my sisters seemed to have these kinds of problems. Was it because they lived overseas? Or was it something else that made me vulnerable, something of which I was unaware?

  When Jared was murdered, I assumed it had been because of our family history, my father and grandfather’s research into poppies, but what if that was wrong? What if it had something to do with Jared himself?

  Looking back, I could admit that my life in witness protection was fairly ordinary, up until the time I moved to Rhode Island. For several years, I had a fairly comfortable existence. I’d gotten my degrees, worked steadily, and gotten valuable experience I put to good use.

  That had all changed when Jared entered my life. Suddenly, I entered a new world of high rollers and big-time money. Jared’s unexpected proposal a short time later led to our meeting with my handlers. That’s when things began to unravel for me.

  It was Shaun who first raised his concerns about Jared’s attitude when he called me to meet him for coffee, ostensibly to discuss my impending marriage. We sat at a corner table with our paper cups, away from the crowd, making small talk as the minutes passed. It took Shaun a while to come to the point. The marshal wanted me to know that he thought the world of me, but he was worried that I was putting myself in danger by getting involved with a man who did so much business outside the United States. I pointed out that he and the others had no objection when I asked for permission to travel with Jared. That seemed to be a fine idea. What had changed? Shaun wouldn’t answer my question. He had merely continued his efforts to dissuade me from marrying Jared. But without a solid reason, how could I break off my engagement?

  Shortly after that caffeine-laced meeting, my whole world crumbled into an unfixable mess, one that even Humpty Dumpty couldn’t put back together again. The first cracks came when Jared insisted that it wasn’t necessary for me to stay in WitSec. He told me he could hire people to watch out for me. But I knew that if I left WitSec, I’d also lose the chance to get together with my father and sisters. I wasn’t really prepared to let go of my family. Couldn’t there be some kind of compromise?

  Over a couple of weeks, my relationships began to fracture. My handlers were mad because I continued to make wedding plans. Jared was furious because I wanted to work things out with my handlers. With everyone so unhappy with me, I could do nothing right, and that left me feeling miserable.

  The memory stayed with me through the rest of the day. It lingered in the back of my mind, haunting me. By the time we prepared to stop at a hotel on the outskirts of Kansas City, Missouri for the night, it was too close for comfort. What if Jared died because he wanted me to leave witness protection for some reason? Had he been killed for failing his assignment?

  “Rocky should be here shortly. He wants to update us on the investigation,” Vince announced. He had booked three rooms, since Rocky was planning to stay over after our meeting. “Slow down, Zemaki. The hotel is just about a quarter mile down the road. Look for the sign for the Sheraton Overland Park.”

  “Here we are,” Nancy announced, pulling into the driveway and stopped the RV at the curb about thirty feet from the front door. “Let’s grab our luggage, buttercup, and we’ll register. Vince, it’s all yours. Try not to dent it.”

  “Cute, Nance.”

  Nancy and I left him to find overnight parking for the RV while we checked in and went up to our room. She explained her philosophy on the way up in the elevator.

  “If I tried to convince Vince that I could find safely park that beast, he’d spend all his time worrying that I wasn’t doing it right. I already know I’m capable of handling the task, so I’ve got nothing to prove. Besides,” she grinned mischievously, “I’d much rather be lounging in a hotel room, watching TV, than schlepping all over for just the right extra long, extra wide parking space, with Vince calling me every five minutes to check on my progress.”

  “That sounds like the secret to your success in working with him,” I laughed, slipping the key card through the lock slot.

  “Honey, if it’s one thing I learned from working with men it’s that sometimes the mindset has got nothing to do with testosterone. Vince was our equipment guy, Mr. Accountability. That’s his training and expertise. Me, I’m the firearms expert. You’ll see Vince defer to me on that subject. He respects my proficiency on the firing range.”

  “Oh,” I nodded, stepping into the room. A thought suddenly occurred to me. “Is that why you’re the one with me most of the time, because you’re the better shooter? I thought it was because you’re a woman.”

  “Honey, no way would I get the assignment to protect you if I was just a pretty face. You can bet your sweet fanny I’m a quick draw. Don’t get me wrong. Vince is a pretty good shot, too. But I’ve got five titles to my name.”

  “Good to know,” I decided. It was true. I was confident that if anyone came after me, Nancy was more than capable of dispatching the bad guy.

  We spent the afternoon relaxing. Nancy made some phone calls while I watched TV. A little after three, she and I went for a long walk, to stretch our legs and get some exercise. Vince spent his afternoon cleaning the RV. Nancy said he liked to do it whenever he had something on his mind.

  “It helps him sort things out, so I just leave him be.”

  Rocky picked us up at the Sheraton Overland Park in his rented SUV just after six. We ate at Jess and Jim’s Steak House, chatting about general subjects over crisp salads, garlic toast, tender filet mignons wrapped in bacon, and twice baked potatoes.

  “Now that’s what I call a Kansas City steak,” Rocky told us, putting his napkin on the table as he picked up the tab. “Delicious.”

  “It sure was,” Nancy agreed. “You chose well, Vince.”

  We went back to the hotel for after-dinner drinks in the OP1906 lounge. Nancy and Vince excused themselves, taking seats at the bar, while Rocky and I sat down at a small table for a conversation.

  “How’s life treating you?” he wanted to know.

  “Okay, I guess.” I took a sip of my toasted almond, feeling the Amaretto slide down my throat, sweet warmth that soothed. I found the courage to pose a question that had been with me for the last several hours. “Rocky, can I ask you something?”

  “Go for it.”

  “In the WitSec program, is it usual for you to keep the same team from state to state?”

  “I don’t follow you, Marigold. What do you mean?”

  “After Jared was murdered, I was moved to New York, but my handlers were still in Rhode Island. Is that normal?”

  “You didn’t have a local handler?” His eyebrows shot up, a quizzical expression on his face. “Are you telling me your WitSec team kept the information on your location in Rhode Island? They didn’t turn it over to the local office in New York? Those guys were what, five or six hours away by car.”

  “Five hours,” I replied.

  “Who were you supposed to call in an emergency?”

  “Tovar told me that if I had a problem, I should just call him and he’d dispatch someone to help me.”

  “How is that supposed to help you in an emergency, when time is of the essence?” The information seemed to disturb Rocky. “That sounds like a rogue operation run outside the United States Marshals Service.”

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  “So, maybe it’s not a coincidence that my handlers were all attacked,” I suggested. “Or that people came after me in New York.”

  “Something definitely smells fishy here. Give me the specific order in which things happened, Marigold.” He leaned his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together, the veteran investigator sniffing the scent of a case. “Think. Who got hurt first?”

  I ran down the details one by one, giving him the chronology of events. Eve, pregnant, had that unusual fall in the parking garage that caused her to go into labor. Shaun’s wife was involved in the terrible car accident that resulted in his earlier-than-expected retir
ement. Tovar showed up unexpectedly at the Gilded Nest, and was shot by the man who attacked me. And when the state police got involved in Windham, investigators showed up at Shaun’s new home and found him beaten to a bloody pulp.

  “I don’t even understand why Tovar showed up that night after the wedding,” I admitted to the experienced investigator sitting across from me. “How did he know where to find me?”

  “That’s one hell of a question, Marigold. I wish I had an answer for you.

  “Why didn’t he call me first? Did he know that horrible man was coming to get me?”

  “Maybe this is why the FBI has its boxers in a bunch about you and why the Marshals Service has declined to protect you. Maybe someone should be looking at your handlers and asking some tough questions.”

  “Are you suggesting that Tovar and the others sold me out? You think someone got to them?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything just yet. All I know is that they didn’t follow the normal protocols. Either they have a doozy of an explanation for that, or someone’s belongs in the naughty seat for a big time-out.”

  “What do you think I should do, Rocky?”

  “You don’t need to do anything. I’ll talk to Jeff and Linc. We’ll figure out something.” He patted my hand, pulling out his cell phone. “Sorry. It’s the wife. I’ve got to take this. Hey, babe....”

  I joined Vince and Nancy at the bar, to give him some privacy. They were arguing over which NCAA men’s teams were likely to be in the Final Four. They agreed on the Arizona Wildcats, but disagreed on the Syracuse Orange and the Kansas Jayhawks.

  “And don’t forget Michigan State,” Nancy reminded him. “They’ve still got a shot at it.”

  “Wisconsin. Always better with cheddar.” Vince swirled his drink in the glass, a satisfied smile on his face. He knew he was getting to Nancy and he enjoyed taunting her.

  “Oh, please! You have got to be joking!”

  Rocky joined us a short time later. “Sorry about that, Marigold. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

  “Not at all,” I smiled. “Besides, someone had to break up these two. They’re still arguing about basketball.”

  “Rocky, who do you think is going to make it into the tournament?” Nancy pressed him for his pick. “I’ve got Arizona, Syracuse, and Michigan State.”

  “Gina,” was his answer.

  “Say what?” Vince looked puzzled. “We’re talking about the men’s championship.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I just like saying that. My kid made three baskets tonight in her game.” The proud father held up his phone so we could see his daughter in action. Wearing a blue-and-white jersey and white shorts, the twelve-year-old mugged for the camera, a mouth full of braces, along with a couple of her teammates.

  “Nice,” Nancy decided. “She looks like a future champ.”

  “That’s because she takes after her mother,” he laughed, flipping over to a photograph of an attractive dark-haired woman and holding it out for me to see. “She gets her long legs and agility from Mary Beth.”

  “Pretty woman.”

  “Smart, too,” he grinned.

  “She must be. She caught you, didn’t she?” Nancy patted him on the back. “Did you know this guy was hot stuff back in the day when he was a bachelor?”

  “Was he?” I laughed as Vince rolled his eyes.

  “You bet.”

  “You’re just saying that because I’m your boss and I sign your paycheck,” Rocky scoffed. “What are you buttering me up for, Nance?”

  “I was hoping I could get home for the weekend. Terry’s got a few days off and he wants to play some golf in St. Augustine.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll make the arrangements. What about you, Vince?”

  “Doesn’t make any difference to me,” he shrugged. “Flossie’s with the grandkids until Tuesday, so if you need me to work, I’ll work.”

  “I’ll let you know. Who’s having another?”

  “Actually, I’m beat. Would you mind if I made an early night of it?” I set my empty glass on the counter.

  “I promised Terry I’d call,” replied my roommate amiably. “If I’m lucky, I can catch him at half-time.”

  Nancy and I went back to our room, leaving Rocky and Vince at the bar, watching the news.

  I got myself ready for bed while she called her husband. With my teeth brushed and my pajamas on, I tossed my dirty clothes into the plastic bag in my suitcase and zipped it up before placing it on the floor. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was already after ten. What I really needed was some sleep. I could take a quick shower before breakfast in the morning. I fluffed up my pillows and got under the covers, settling myself in bed.

  “No bath tonight, kid?” she asked, right after she finished her call.

  “Too tired,” I admitted. “Any chance you could wash my hair for me in the morning, without getting my ear wet?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. Your hair is really beginning to look like crap,” she announced matter-of-factly. “Not to worry. We’ll get you looking gorgeous once again. Mind if I watch some TV, kid?”

  “Not at all,” I told her, sitting up in bed, pillows at my back. “What are we watching?”

  “Nothing scary. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a screamer in the middle of the night.”

  “Oh, I’ll try not to do that,” I promised sincerely.

  “I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about me,” she laughed, her fingers working the buttons of the remote control. “Vince gets all bent out of shape when I do that. We worked a case one time up in Minnesota. There was a Hitchcock festival on all weekend and I watched Psycho. Well, I let out a blood-curdling scream about three in the morning. Vince busted in, armed and dangerous. Ever since then, he warned me that I’m only allowed to watch comedies.”

  Just before midnight, I found my eyelids growing heavy. My roommate was still wide awake and giggling as she watched Bringing Up Baby. I drifted off as Cary Grant was chastising Katherine Hepburn.

  “Now it isn't that I don't like you, Susan, because, after all, in moments of quiet, I'm strangely drawn toward you, but - well, there haven't been any quiet moments,” I heard him say. Nancy thought that was hilarious. I closed my eyes and set aside my worries; taking a page from Vince’s playbook, I fell asleep to the sound of laughter.

  When I woke up, the room was filled with sunlight. Nancy was snoring softly, lying on her back. I rose and got myself dressed while I brewed a small pot of coffee in the machine provided by the hotel. It was just past seven.

  Rather than turn on the television and risk waking the late-night movie fan, I decided to read. I took my cup of coffee and paperback over to the arm chair by the window. It didn’t take me long to get back into the story. I was relieved that Nora managed to get through the forest safely, albeit alone, and she was about to approach the car that would take her to safety.

  Emerging from the shadows of the foot path, I could see the white Citroën bathed in silver moonlight. The door was open and there was a man slumped over the steering wheel. Another man sat on the hood of the car, arms folded across his massive chest, legs out in front of him. I recognized him as one of Alain’s shipping managers.

  A slight rustling of leaves alerted me to a furtive movement behind me. Desperate, I tucked myself back into the darkness, holding my breath. A stealthy figure appeared, hunched over and crab-crawling on the path just ten feet away. It was Inspecteur Noiret.

  Daring to show myself to him, I stepped to the edge of the path and put a finger to my lips. Nodding, he took my hands in his and kissed my cheeks, one after the other, in measurable relief, without uttering a sound, and then he looked past me. I could tell from his reaction that he had seen what I had seen. Pulling me back into the rainforest, we ducked behind a prolific trumpet vine that had attached itself to a locust tree.

  “Nora, we don’t have much time. I need you to distract the man, while I dispatch him. Can you do that for me?”

  I coul
d feel his warm breath on my ear as he spoke those words to me. A delicious tingle coursed through my body, and I found myself too aware of his masculine touch. How I longed to lose myself in his arms, to forget Alain and the terrible beast known as Le Scorpion. Was it only that I wanted to escape my dreadful marriage, or was it that Jean-Claude Noiret somehow was my true north, the man with whom I was destined to be?

  “Yes,” I nodded. “What am I to do?”

  His plan was to cross the road to the west and make his way along the opposite side. Once he was in place, I was to stumble out into the road, and when Alain’s goon turned to face me, the French policeman would attack him from behind. As I waited impatiently, I wondered what we would do if we actually succeeded. Where would we go? How would we get off the island without Alain finding us?

  A tiny flash of light caught my attention, barely visible, across the road. Inspecteur Noiret was in place. Now it was my turn to act. With trepidation, I inched my way forward, out of the shelter of the foliage, and set foot on the dirt road. My huaraches scattered the pebbles noisily.

  “Bonjour!” said a cheerful man as he sprang to his feet, his beefy girth imposing. He seemed intent on preventing me from seeing the dead body in the car. “You must be my fare. Let’s get going, shall we?”

  He walked in my direction, and that very act made me nervous, for it spoke of a need to get close to me. Did that mean he had no gun? Perhaps he planned to strangle me.

  “Yes, let’s,” I agreed. “I’ll climb into the back.” I danced away from him, towards the rear of the Citroën, and I immediately realized he did not appreciate this, for he now had more ground to cover before lunging. He took two long strides towards me, and as he did, Inspecteur Noiret took advantage of the moment and struck him on the back of the head. I heard a sickening thud as metal connected with bone, and the big man crumbled to the ground. Inspecteur Noiret quickly dragged him into the roadside brush, out of sight, and then did the same with the dead man. And then he did something unexpected. He opened the trunk.