Pieces of the Past (Witness Security Book 1)

by Jamie Hill

  Ethan nodded and clung to her hand.

  Even though there was a chair for him, Doug sat on the arm of the sofa next to Ethan. She bit back a smile, but the gesture warmed her heart.

  Agent Gilford made introductions and got right to business. “First of all, we’re sorry about the tactics used in our attempt to trip Larry up. The Justice Department knew it was a long shot, but we did acquire some useful information. As helpful as that was, we’d like to apologize for the methods employed in the process. When things have settled, we’d like to give you a check for twenty-five thousand dollars from the victim’s assistance fund. We can make it payable to one person for the family, or five thousand each, whatever you prefer.”

  Christine looked at each of her parents then finally at Doug. He raised his brows and she knew he’d had no knowledge of the offer. He was obviously pleased by it. She was stunned, and knew it would take some time to process. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  Her parents and kids murmured their own thanks.

  “Now,” McGuire took over. “Our search of Larry’s prison cell yielded a disposable phone hidden in a phony can of shaving cream. From that phone we were able to pull off dozens of text messages, voicemails, and phone numbers. While we were originally led to believe Martin Newsome was behind the drug money laundering at Valcor, Larry’s phone tells a different story. It seems he’d been dealing with noted mob boss Sal Russo personally. While Newsome was still in charge at Valcor, Larry, by his actions, became a more powerful player and essentially forced Newsome to go along.”

  Christine had heard tidbits of this, but still found it hard to digest. “Are you sure? Or is Newsome saying all this to turn the investigation off himself?”

  “We’re sure,” McGuire confirmed. “We’ve got the evidence in black and white. And when questioned independently, Newsome’s story backs it up. Those people involved called Larry ‘boss’.”

  She shook her head. “I’m simply stunned. How could I not know about this? We were married, for Pete’s sake!”

  “Your ex-husband was a fairly accomplished liar. By your own account, he spent more time at work than at home. Everyone thought he was grieving the loss of your firstborn son. When he was home, he interacted with the children and not you. That’s what you originally told us, right?”

  She nodded sadly. “Right.”

  Doug’s hand squeezed her shoulder.

  She didn’t look at him, but drew from his substantial strength.

  “Larry hired a man named Roberto Blevins to track you down. Blevins was the hired gun of Sal Russo, and he was apparently reporting back to both men independently. Blevins drove a white sedan, was balding with brown hair on the sides of his head.”

  “The man at the swimming pool!” Ethan exclaimed.

  “And the pizza parlor,” Peyton added.

  McGuire nodded. “Larry instructed Blevins to send the flowers on your anniversary. He also arranged for the items sent or left for the children. ‘Pieces of the past’, he called them. But please don’t in any way think the gestures were sentimental. Larry was a bitter man, angry that you were living a normal life while he was tucked away in the pen. He spoke of that often.”

  “His choice!” Doug erupted. “Nobody coerced him to do what he did, least of all Christi and the kids. They’re innocent victims.”

  “Not according to Larry.” McGuire looked at his notes. “He indicated his wife was an unappreciative, faultfinding shrew who nagged him practically to death.”

  “You’re got to be kidding me!” Doug jumped up this time.

  Ben moved to his side and tried to calm him.

  Christine shook her head. She’d known Larry had problems, but this proved he was truly a piece of work. And the fact that it bothered Doug more than it did her spoke volumes. “Yep, that’s me. I’m a real ingrate.”

  He glanced at her, a smile threatening. Her shot at humor seemed to ease the tension.

  Her parents chuckled as they shook their heads.

  “Dad said that?” Ethan asked timidly.

  McGuire nodded. “Sorry, son.”

  Peyton frowned. “Do you think he could have been sick? I read once about a mental illness that caused people to say and do things they never would have done before.”

  “It’s possible, but unlikely. If things go badly at his trial, his lawyer may attempt to claim that. Lots of people do. It’s called the ‘not guilty by reason of insanity’ defense.”

  “He is not insane,” Lillian spoke up. “He knew exactly what he was doing.”

  “We think so, too.” McGuire looked at Christine. “However, if at some point in the trial, sympathy for him seems to be flowing in that direction, we may decide to put you on the stand to refute it.”

  She nodded. “Whatever I can do to help.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Gilford added. “We’d like you to make a last ditch attempt to talk to him Monday before the trial starts.”

  Doug shook his head. “Please don’t put her through that again.”

  The agent held up one hand. “Ms. Stewart, I know, it’s tough. But consider the alternative. If Larry won’t disclose where the money is, you and the kids will remain in Witsec indefinitely. Think about something else. Your parents are in this now, too. They aren’t safe to return home. Understand that the Columbian cartel won’t be as gentle as the Justice Department if they were to snatch any of you. They are still very interested in finding their ten million dollars.”

  Her head was spinning. “Damn it! I’ll talk to him, but after last time, I doubt he’ll tell me anything.”

  “All you can do is try.”

  She nodded. “I will. Of course.”

  They asked a few more questions and when McGuire and Gilford left, sat around looking at each other. “This is insane,” she muttered.

  Her father said, “We could be in Witsec indefinitely.”

  Lillian gazed at him. “Stan, what can we do?”

  “I don’t see that we have any options. We’ll do what the Marshal’s Service says we do.”

  Joe offered, “At least you’ll be together. Small comfort, I’m sure.”

  “No, it’s something.” Stan glanced at her and the kids. “It was so hard living without you. Your mother and I would rather be with you in a new location than without you at home.”

  Christine thought she might cry, until her mother added, “But not in Kansas, right? Can we go someplace better?”

  Ben guffawed. “What could be better? But yeah, you’ll have some input into your new home. And your new names.”

  Peyton groaned. “I just got used to the last one! What will we call ourselves now? Something that starts with an ‘S’.”

  Ethan smiled. “Snuffleupagus.”

  Smiling, Doug leaned down to him. “Stegosaurus.”

  Christine rolled her eyes. “You’re a huge help.”

  Turning to his grandparents, Ethan said, “You get to choose something that starts with ‘W’. I like Whoville.”

  Lillian joined in the banter. “I prefer something more upscale. How about Walstonburg?”

  Stan suggested, “Warrenpfelzer.”

  “A kid in my class was named Wakabayashi,” Ethan said.

  Peyton reached over and poked him. “He was Japanese, dummy.”

  Ben shook his head. “First rule of Witsec. Common, low-key names. Nothing outrageous or upscale. Or Japanese.”

  Peyton told her grandparents, “Oh, get ready for this. Witsec has a ton of rules. A thicker book than War and Peace.”

  “It’s true.” Joe nodded.

  Christine rose and made her way into the kitchen.

  Doug followed. “You okay?”

  She stared at the refrigerator door. “No. I can’t go through this again. Even if my parents are with us, we’ll still be in hiding, and there won’t be—” Tears choked out the words and she stopped talking.

  He moved behind her. “Won’t be what, honey?”

  Christine turned to face
him. “There won’t be you.”

  “You sure about that?” He used both thumbs to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

  She sniffed. “How could there be? You said we can’t go back to Topeka.”

  “No,” he said thoughtfully. “But maybe I’ll go where you are.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Could you do that? Would they transfer you?”

  Doug shook his head. “No. But maybe I need you in my life more than I need Witsec.”

  Her eyes widened. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. It wouldn’t be right, and it’d be an awful way to start a relationship.”

  “You let me worry about that. You need to think about what you can say to Larry to make him give up the money. Play on his sympathies for the kids, that kind of thing. It’s our last chance.”

  Christine placed her palm on his cheek. “I love it when you say ‘our’.”

  He grinned, glanced over his shoulder, then stole a quick kiss. “I love a few things you do, too. I’ll tell you all about it tonight, after everyone’s in bed.”

  “Everyone?” She batted her lashes.

  “Oh, I wish!” He rolled his eyes.

  Christine laughed.

  Over dinner Christine realized that she didn’t have any clothes nice enough to wear to the trial. Her mother offered to let her look through her things, and between the two of them they could probably put something together. Christine sighed at what her life had become.

  The atmosphere after dinner was less jovial than the night before, far less celebratory. It was barely nine p.m. when everyone started filtering off to their rooms. Joe slept on first watch, and Ben held down the fort from the kitchen.

  Christine tucked in the kids then joined Doug on the sofa.

  “Everyone hunkered down?”

  “Yeah.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

  “They’re tired tonight.”

  “Nervous, I think.” She sighed. “This talk of ‘Witsec indefinitely’ has them on edge. We’d always imagined it’d just be until the trial. None of us ever dreamed…” She glanced up at him. “Well, a lot of things.”

  He smiled. “I know, right? Me too.”

  She stared straight ahead, but remained leaning against him. “What did you dream, Doug? What did little Doug Jackson see for his future?”

  “First of all, my real name’s not Jackson. That’s the alias I use for the job.”

  Her jaw dropped and she stared at him. “You’re kidding me! What’s your real name?”

  He smiled. “I couldn’t tell you. That’d be breaking a Witsec rule.”

  “Oh, and we’re not allowed to do that. Right. Uh huh. Yeah.”

  He laughed. “No, I was going to say we’d broken enough as it is. Aw, what the hell? One more won’t get me fired. My last name is Jernigan. Douglas Patrick Jernigan, son of Martin and Elizabeth Jernigan.”

  “Jernigan.” She tried the name on for size. “It’s nice.” They continued talking as they stared straight ahead. “Are your parents still around?”

  “Dad died a few years back. Mom lives pretty close to me, in a small rural town just outside of Topeka. Silver Lake, Kansas. She’s retired now, does a lot of volunteer work, and watches Daisy for me when I go on assignment.”

  “Silver Lake sounds nice. Oh, and Daisy? Ethan loves dogs.”

  “Daisy loves boys. They’ll be a perfect match.”

  “So what did little Doug Jernigan want to be when he grew up?”

  “Same thing as my daddy, of course. A United States Marshal. Only I didn’t smoke two packs a day for thirty years. He’s lucky he made it to sixty before the cancer got him.”

  She nuzzled her face against his shoulder. “Your dad was in service, too. That’s nice. My dad was a stockbroker.”

  “No wonder he has so much money.”

  “Speaking of money, the twenty-five thousand was a surprise. That’ll go a long way toward the kids’ education.”

  “Good. I’m glad they did that for you. So what did little Christine White want to be when she grew up? Somebody’s wife and mother? Or did you have grander plans?”

  “Well, being a mother is about as grand as it gets. But I started college to be an accountant. That’s where I met Larry. I got pregnant and dropped out, while he went on to get certified. So I guess I had grander plans, but they got sidetracked. And I decided I liked the whole ‘wife and mother’ business. Is that so wrong?”

  “It’s not wrong at all. I’m sorry you got sidetracked, though.”

  She looked at him. “I’m not. It brought me to where I am today.”

  Doug chuckled. “In a safe house, on the run from a Columbian drug cartel?”

  Swatting his chest, she shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking of the big picture. I was thinking more along the lines of sitting here on the sofa with you.”

  “Hold that thought.” Doug rose and killed all but the dimmest of lights. He listened in the hallway, then crept back over to the sofa.

  “All quiet?”

  “Seems to be. Ben’s crushing candy on that stupid game. Whatever, as long as he’s occupied.” He returned to his spot and drew her into his arms. “Now, where were we?”

  “We were discussing grand plans.”

  “No, I think we were getting ready to do this.” He touched her chin and drew her face forward for a kiss.

  Christine melted into him. Each time he kissed her she fell a little more in love. She wrapped her arms around his neck and instead of climbing on his lap, she pulled him down on top of her until they were prone.

  He kissed her hungrily and their bodies shifted, his leg pressing between her thighs. She felt the firm ridge of his erection and bucked against it to feel more.

  Groaning, he rested his forehead against hers. “Damn it, Christi. I want you in the worst way.”

  “I’m right here.”

  He chuckled. “You know who else is right here? Two US Marshals with guns, your parents and your kids.”

  She grinned. “Which of those pairs worries you the most?”

  “You’ll say the kids but I’d have to say the men with weapons.”

  “Aw.” She felt between them and cupped his crotch. “I’ll bet you have a bigger weapon than either one of them do.”

  “Sweet talker. Keep that in mind. When this is over, flattery will get you everywhere.”

  Her heart lurched and she couldn’t help asking, “What if it never gets over? What happens then?”

  He shook his head. “Can we cross that bridge when we come to it?”

  “Yes. But I won’t wait forever. I want you, too.”

  Doug grinned. “What do you intend to do about it?”

  “I don’t know. I might catch you off guard sometime and have my way with you.”

  “Give it your best shot, baby.”

  She threw her head back and growled. “Frustrating!” A thought occurred to her and she smiled slyly. “There’s always the garage. I’ll bet your car’s pretty roomy.”

  He laughed. “I haven’t done it in the car since college, and Nina Caputo’s little Mazda was not roomy. The back of my truck, on the other hand, made a pretty nice escape when decked out properly.”

  “I’d like to hear more about that.”

  Doug rubbed his nose on hers. “Someday. We can’t spill all our secrets in one night. Gotta save some of the magic for our next date.”

  “I guess. Just sayin’, you passed up a sure thing, buddy. Might not want that word to get out to your friends.”

  Brushing her hair aside, he nuzzled her earlobe. “Keep in mind that I didn’t realize this was going to be a date. I’m not, shall we say, prepared. If you get my drift.”

  She shoved him off gently. “You said the magic words, right there. That’s a deal breaker. I mean, it has been, ever since the college incident.”

  “I totally understand.”

  Christine straightened her clothes and hair, muttering, “What kind of a guy isn’t prepared twenty-four seven? You could lose your m
an badge for that, you know.”

  He laughed, and drew her close again. “The kind of a guy who doesn’t jump everything in a skirt. I’m always prepared when the time is right.”

  Her heart melted. “Now who’s the sweet talker? I’m sorry to be so pushy. I just thought the time felt pretty right to me.”

  Doug adjusted the waistband of his jeans. “I feel your pain, I really do. But you said something last night I just can’t get past.”

  His comment surprised her. “What did I say?”

  With one finger below her chin, he raised her face to meet his gaze. “You said you weren’t proposing marriage, you were just looking for a little comfort. I’m sorry, Christi, that isn’t good enough for me. I want the proposal, the marriage, the whole deal. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We both know it’s soon, and starting a relationship under these circumstances isn’t the best idea—”

  Her gaze was glued to his. “My mom said so.”

  “Ben did, too. But they don’t know how we feel about each other. At this point, they don’t need to know. You do. I love you, Christine White Scott Stewart. If you’ll have me, I plan to marry you and change that name to the last one you’ll ever need. I can’t guarantee what it’ll be, other than it’ll start with a ‘J’.”

  Tears streamed her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what the last name is, as long as ‘Doug and Christine’ are the first names. I love you, too, Douglas Patrick Jernigan Jackson. Yes, I’ll have you, as long as you remember that I come with an enthusiastic ten-year-old and a moody seventeen-year-old.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’ll keep this just between us for now, otherwise we’ll never hear the end of everyone’s opinions.”

  “Agreed.” She pressed her lips on his for a sweet kiss. Mouths still touching, she murmured, “Are you sure we can’t slip out to the car and do it? You could pull out real fast at the end.”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding me? Once I get in there, I’m never going to want to leave.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Federal Courthouse

  Chicago, Illinois

  Larry Stewart scratched his freshly shaved chin. He’d worn the beard for so long, he felt naked without it. The suit his lawyer brought him was a size too big. He didn’t realize he’d lost so much weight in prison, but apparently he had. Tugging at the collar just made it worse, but the tie irritated his neck.