She hadn’t given him the choice. Maybe because she didn’t have the guts to defy her father.
Everything had just gotten out of control. Carson was right: She should never have hired Sean to find him and Jesse last year. But Carson also made her angry. She knew he didn’t have a squeaky-clean job, but she hadn’t known he was working for the drug cartels. She thought he was helping businesses hide money out of the country, and really, she couldn’t care less. She’d convinced herself that Carson wasn’t even breaking the law, not really—it wasn’t his money he was hiding. It was for other people.
The truth was so much worse.
But Carson was her husband. Jesse was a toddler when they met, and he swept her off her feet. He loved her, loved Jesse, didn’t care that another man had fathered him. Madison was happy. For ten years, she had been blissfully happy, content with a good man and a beautiful boy.
Now she was losing her son.
Her cell phone rang. It was Carson. She didn’t want this conversation, but she couldn’t avoid it.
“Hello,” she said.
“Madison! I’ve been trying to call you. I got your text, why aren’t you bringing Jesse back tonight?”
“It’s a long story, and I’m too tired. Tomorrow.”
“Where are you staying?”
“You’re not going to be happy.”
“Rogan.” He said his name as if it was Satan.
“His guest room.”
“You and Jesse should be in a hotel.”
“It’s fine. Really. Sean is right about one thing—it’s safer that we’re here rather than in public. They don’t know what happened last night with the accident, but it was on purpose. Jesse is bruised. He’s fine, but it could have been worse.”
“It’s Rogan! His lifestyle.”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Sean thinks that someone was able to track Jesse through the parental tracker I have.”
“Those programs are foolproof.”
“Sean doesn’t think so.” She didn’t tell him what Sean said about Carson—Carson would be furious. And no way did Madison believe that Carson was behind this. He would never hurt Jesse.
“Rogan is full of himself. He’s an arrogant prick.”
“I don’t want to argue about this, Carson. I’m exhausted.”
“Maddie—sweetheart—I would be there if I could.”
“I know.”
“Do you want me to book your flight?”
“No—I need to meet with the US Marshals tomorrow. Make sure that everything is okay. I don’t want to go back into witness protection, but I can’t bear to think of anything happening to Jesse.”
“But you will be home tomorrow.”
“I’ll let you know.”
“I miss you, Maddie. And Jesse.”
“I love you, Carson. I’ll call you in the morning.” She hung up. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have anyone to talk to. Her few friends had dropped her as soon as they found out Carson laundered money for drug dealers. Then in WITSEC she’d been too scared to make any friends—and if she did, what would she talk about? She had to lie to everyone. Now she had her dad back, but he was so angry with her she could barely have a civil conversation. He now despised both her ex-boyfriend and her husband. He wanted her to divorce Carson and move with Jesse back to Orange County to live with him.
She didn’t want a divorce. Carson had protected her in ways she could never explain to Jesse, and especially not to Sean. Considering that Sean was hardly a saint, he’d really gotten on the high-and-mighty pedestal, hadn’t he?
Besides, Carson loved her—and she loved him. Most of the time.
She just wanted everything back the way it was before … and that was impossible.
* * *
Carson dug out his burner phone—in case the feds were tapping his home phone—and called Jeremy Robertson for the hundredth time; finally, he answered.
“Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to reach you all day!”
“Working. What’s the problem?”
“Whoever you hired is the problem! Jesse was in the car last night. My son. Now Madison is in San Antonio!”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? For Madison to bring Jesse back home?”
“Rogan convinced her that there is an actual threat. They’re bringing in the marshals to work the case. What the fuck, Jeremy? This isn’t what we agreed to. You promised me that Jesse would stay out of it.”
“There were no serious injuries,” Jeremy said.
“You’re not listening to me. The fucking marshals are getting involved. They probably called the damn FBI. Rogan’s wife is a fed, for shitsake.”
“Working for those people all these years has turned you into a foul-mouthed jerk.”
What the hell did that mean?
“Jeremy, I reached out to you because we’ve been friends for a long time. I helped you when you needed it. No questions. Now I need help—and I paid you well for it. Get it back under control.”
“You need to calm down, Carson.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down! Promise nothing like this will happen again!”
“I’ve already dealt with the situation. You need to stop panicking.”
“If Madison had gotten on the damn plane tonight, I’d feel better. But twenty-four hours with Rogan? He has a way of twisting everything around. I can’t have her doubt me.”
“Madison doesn’t have her hands clean, Carson. Maybe it’s time you reminded her of that.”
Carson had thought about it, sure, but the single best way to get Madison to do the opposite of what he wanted was to threaten her. She had to come to the decision on her own … and then she’d be one hundred percent committed. They’d been married for nearly eleven years. The last year had been hell, but the first ten—they were amazing. He’d make the next ten even better.
“I’ll call you as soon as I know Madison is on the plane. Stay away from her and Jesse—she’s naive, but she’s not stupid.”
“I never thought she was, old friend.”
“And as soon as my family is safe, take care of Rogan.”
“My pleasure.”
* * *
Lucy knocked on the guest room door. Madison answered it a moment later. “Here,” Lucy said and handed her a small bag of toiletries. They always had plenty of travel-sized items, and the guest room was stocked with towels, shampoo, and soap. “If you need anything else, let me know.”
“Thanks,” Madison said. She looked tired, and Lucy didn’t blame her.
“Sean’s making dinner—well, breakfast for dinner because neither of us had time to go to the store today. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
“I’m not hungry. I’m going to lie down for a while.”
Lucy left her and walked down the hall. Kane was talking to Jesse outside by the pool. Jesse was listening intently. Probably giving him a security lecture. She didn’t like that Jesse had to grow up so fast … but better safe than a victim.
Sean was standing at the stove cooking up a delicious-smelling egg dish with chorizo and bell peppers. Her stomach growled.
Jack was setting the table, and he laughed. “Skipped lunch again?” he said.
“It’s been a busy day. I had breakfast.”
Sean grunted. “Probably a bagel and gallon of coffee.”
She kissed the back of his neck. “You know me well. I’ll feed Bandit.”
She didn’t have to call for the dog; as soon as he heard his name he bounded in from the laundry room, where he had been watching the kitchen. He stopped at the edge of the island—Sean didn’t allow him in the kitchen proper. Lucy went to the garage, filled his bowl with kibble, and brought it back to the laundry room. Bandit ate happily while she gave him fresh water.
Jack had six plates on the table. “I don’t think Madison will be joining us,” Lucy said. “It’s awkward for her, considering.”
“Probably a good thing,” Jack said.
“How’s Jesse doing?”
“Feeling guilty, which is healthy,” Jack said.
“Spoken like a true Catholic,” she said.
Jack grunted. “Kane is laying down the law.”
Sean continued to cook. He was preoccupied about Jesse, and it had to be weird to have Madison here in the house. She glanced at Jack. “Hey, could you take Bandit out to do his business?”
Jack knew she wanted privacy and took Bandit to the backyard.
“Sean,” Lucy said.
“Hmm?”
“Talk. It’s just us.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“It was very nice to invite Madison to stay.”
He glanced at her. “You’re okay with it?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? She’s Jesse’s mother.”
He frowned, went back to the stove. Turned off the burner and grabbed tortillas from the bread box.
“You think I’m jealous?”
“No. You don’t have a jealous bone in your body.”
“Well, maybe one small bone.”
He looked at her, worried.
She smiled, touched his face. “I love you. We’re going to get through this, like we get through everything. Madison was in your past—long ago. And you’re bonded for life because of Jesse. I’m okay with that; you also need to be.”
“I thought I’d forgiven her,” he said quietly. “When I picked Jesse up last month, we were cordial. I was just so happy to get to spend real time with him—but then I saw her today and I’m so angry at what she took from me. I can’t get that time back. I can’t do anything about it. I’m trying so hard to just put it aside, to not let it cloud my relationship with Jesse. To not let anyone see that I’m still angry. And then she reminded me that I have no rights. Nothing that she doesn’t allow. My anger jumped to the surface and I want to go to war. Which wouldn’t be good for me, for you, or for Jesse.”
Lucy wrapped her arms around Sean’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. “You’re human,” she whispered. “We’re going to make this work, okay? Everyone is on your side, Sean. Me. Jack. Kane. My family. Your family. Our friends. But mostly, Jesse. He wants you in his life, and Madison will realize that if she pulls him away from you, she’ll damage her relationship with her son. Right now she’s emotional and worried. Give her tonight and it will get better.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am.” She hoped. “Consider this, though—she feels like she’s in the lion’s den. She’s here, in your house, with your family and your wife. She’s on the defensive. Try and cut her a little slack.”
“You are far too forgiving and compassionate.”
“Compassion is not a sin, Sean. And believe me, if she follows through on any her threats, my compassion will disappear.”
She kissed him again and felt him relax, which was all she wanted. He had been so tense and worried, but now he was returning to his old self.
A beep alerted them that someone was approaching the front door. Sean reached over and checked the security panel. “Hey, it’s Nate, want to let him in?”
“I didn’t know he was coming.”
“Neither did I, but I’m not surprised. Being on leave has messed him up. He doesn’t relax well.” He kissed her nose. “That was something you had to learn, too.”
Lucy opened the door to Nate, then reset the alarm. Sean dished up huge bowls of food—eggs and chorizo, red potatoes, broccoli, fresh salsa, and a stack of warmed tortillas. Kane, Jack, and Jesse came in and everyone sat around the table.
“I know none of you are much for praying,” Lucy said, “but I for one thank God that you are all here tonight and safe.”
“Amen,” Jack said. “I’m starved, pass the eggs.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
First thing Sunday morning, Sean took Madison to the US Marshals’ office. John Jimenez wasn’t happy about being called in on the weekend, but he was there when they arrived.
He was surprised to see Madison. “Mrs. Spade, I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I came as soon as I heard about the hit-and-run.”
“Of course. Please, sit down. Can I get you anything?”
“Just water, if you have it.”
“Of course.”
“Me too,” Sean said as John walked out of the conference room. Sure, John was mad at him for what happened with Domingo, but Sean hadn’t shot the thug, and it wasn’t going to come back on John—Sean had made sure of that.
John returned with three bottles of water, handed them out, and sat down. He took a sip from his own bottle. “We are still reviewing all the evidence from the accident and consulting with SAPD. I don’t know what else to say—we don’t have answers yet.”
“Is it safe for me to take my son home tonight?” Madison asked. She sat stiffly, almost regally, in her chair. She barely looked at Sean. He’d thought they’d had a truce, but she was still angry. Well, shit, how could he fix this? Why was she so angry? He had done everything in his power to save Jesse and her corrupt husband last year, and he’d done everything to protect and love Jesse now. That she was mad at him got under his skin.
“I don’t see why not,” John said cautiously, “though I don’t necessarily think you have to take him out of town. There has been no chatter about your son or husband, and we’ve reached out to all federal and local law enforcement.”
He seemed confused. “Did I misunderstand the dates of Jesse’s visit?”
“No,” Sean said. “Madison thinks he’ll be safer in Sacramento. I think that someone has been tracking him through a parental tracking app that Madison has installed on her phone.” He slid Jesse’s phone over to John. “She doesn’t trust my diagnostic abilities and won’t let me access her phone, but said she’d let your department have a run at it.”
Jimenez opened his mouth then closed it.
Madison frowned. “You make me sound downright awful, Sean. What I don’t trust is your assessment because you will do anything to keep Jesse here with you.” She turned to John and said, “Sean thinks that my husband had something to do with the accident.”
“What I said was that I think your husband set up your phone to send Jesse’s location to a blind third-party account every time you logged in.”
“And I told you that I haven’t checked on Jesse through the app since you picked him up!”
Sean bit his tongue because it was so damn obvious what had happened but she would never believe it. Clearly Carson had the same app on his phone and used Madison’s password to track Jesse. Why couldn’t she see it? Why was she being so deliberately blind?
“I’ve done everything I can legally do,” Sean said slowly and carefully. “But someone has been tracking Jesse through his phone and I’m hoping your office can trace it.”
John looked at Sean and shook his head. Sean bit the inside of his cheek. He hoped John didn’t spill the beans—he didn’t have to lie to Madison, but Sean knew that the marshals locally used the FBI’s cybercrimes unit when needed, and Sean had many friends in the FBI.
Fortunately, John simply said, “Well, I can definitely send the phones in for processing. We should learn within twenty-four hours if there has been any hack.”
Madison looked relieved. “Thank you. So I can go home?”
“I’m still working on updating the threat assessment. The fact that someone followed Sean and Jesse on Wednesday, then another vehicle ran Agent Kincaid and Jesse off the road on Friday, tells me there could be a potential problem. I’m not at the point where I can recommend a protective detail—I simply do not know what, if any, threat there is. I’m hopeful these phones will give me something to work with.”
“I don’t want to go back into witness protection,” Madison said, “but I will do anything to protect my son.”
“Of course, but as you were told when you left WITSEC, it’s not a revolving door. You could have stayed—regardless
of the new threat assessment, we would have kept you in the program. But you opted to leave. There would have to be an immediate and verifiable threat directly related to Mr. Spade’s former illegal business dealings against you or Jesse in order for you to be readmitted into the program.”
“Or my husband.”
“Actually, no.”
“What?”
John seemed uncomfortable that he was the one sharing this news. “Mr. Spade agreed to turn state’s evidence against individuals in the Flores drug cartel. However, all the individuals he had firsthand knowledge of are deceased. He has no information that would be of help to the federal government. Because he was forthcoming and shared an extensive amount of information with the FBI and the DEA, he was granted probation in lieu of prison when he was released, under specific terms. But he has no information that is valuable to the government at this time.”
“But I thought if there was a threat—”
“If there’s a threat against you in retaliation for something that Mr. Spade had or had not done, you would be protected, but de facto such threat would mean that he lied in his plea deal and thus would not be under the protection of the US Marshals. He was well aware of that when he signed the agreement—my office went over it multiple times.”
“Of course he disclosed everything to you,” Madison snapped.
She was lying. Sean didn’t know how he knew, but Madison was lying about something. Maybe it was the way she averted her eyes, just slightly; or the way she was holding her fingers, just a bit too tightly. Those habits could be simply because she was nervous, but Sean had known Madison for a long time. And while he hadn’t seen her in years until recently, he could still read her well.
John said, “I would suggest that you remain here until I get the report back on these phones. I’ll expedite it, but I know I won’t get anything before tomorrow morning, and more likely the end of day tomorrow. And if it’s a complex hack, it may take cybercrimes longer to trace it.”
“But I don’t know what to do here. If there is a threat … how can I protect my son?”
Sean was about to jump down her throat; fortunately, John saved his ass.
“If I may, Mrs. Spade, Mr. Rogan here is trained in security and his wife is an FBI agent. I would heed their advice and they can keep you safe until we have more information.”
Too Far Gone Page 25
