Between the Lines

by Jane Charles

  “So, you were in witness protection without it being actually official?”

  “Kind of,” she shrugs. “I did agree to change my name, and I moved to the other side of the country. I was to have burner phones in case Scott ever needed to reach me. He did a few years ago, to work out the estate details. And then last week to tell me about the motions.”

  “Is that why you suddenly decided to go to New York on Thursday? Were you already going to meet him?”

  “No. He called me the night before. I needed to lose that phone in case his was being tracked.”

  “What did you do with it?”

  “Shoved it between the seats in the taxi on the way to Central Park.”

  I can’t help but laugh. If anything Ellen is resourceful.

  “I wasn’t expecting him to show up in New York. I really wasn’t.”

  I give her hand a squeeze. It doesn’t matter now. None of it does.

  Ellen

  This is so nice. I don’t want this day to end. Even though I’ve talked about things I never thought I would, it feels good to finally tell someone. He also asked the how, which I never answered.

  “I discovered it on my dad’s computer,” I blurt out.

  “What?”

  “My computer had fried and I had a paper due so I went to his office to use his. Not his work one on his desk because I was told never to touch it, but the one he kept in a drawer in his desk. He always said that it was in case he needed it, like if he had problems with his work computer.” I shrug. “So, I didn’t think it’d be a problem. I finally got in, after I guessed his password, which was way too easy for what he was hiding on that laptop, and that’s when I saw it.”

  “What?”

  Shipping orders, emails, and pictures of girls. For a long time I was in shock, then denial, and then, I still didn’t want to believe what I’d seen and read.”

  Gabe lets go of my hand and puts his arm around my waist so we can be closer. I need that.

  “Dad was gone for the weekend, so I took pictures of the screen with my camera, because I was afraid to use a printer or a flash drive.”

  “Then what? You went to the feds?’

  No.” I give a dry laugh. “I went to my grandfather. Spring break was going to start, so after school on Friday, I asked my mom if I could visit my grandparents for the week. It wasn’t unusual. I went there a lot.” I’d been so afraid that week that my parents, or at least my dad, would find out what I’d done. “My mother said it would actually be good for me since I’d been acting strange.”

  “How?”

  “I was terrified of my father, that he’d find out what I’d done, jumping every time he wanted to talk to me and things like that. I couldn’t say anything and assumed he’d deny it anyway. And, if mom didn’t know. It would destroy her. I didn’t know what to do, but if I said anything, I was afraid he’d destroy everything. All I could think of was to talk to my grandfather, because I knew he would know what to do. I didn’t sleep and was pretty much sick to my stomach most of the time. Luckily a flu bug was going around so that was Mom’s explanation for what was wrong with me and why it was a good idea to get out of Las Vegas for a bit.”

  We stop by the swings. I sit in one and Gabe the other. Our hands are linked between the chains. I’m glad he hasn’t stopped touching me. I need to feel him.

  “After I got there I transferred everything to my grandfather’s computer so they were easy to read and see. I was still hoping I was wrong. My grandfather was livid. He contacted the FBI, but instead of taking me there, they should up at the house. A few days later I met Scott. He investigates crimes involving children.”

  Gabe jerks, looking at me.

  “Father wasn’t smuggling adult women, but young girls. He and Uncle Victor, among others.”

  He closes his eyes for a minute and his mouth tightens as if angry or from disgust. It could be both and I can’t really blame him. “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen. It was my junior year of high school.”

  Gabe squeezes my fingers and I appreciate his support and patience with me.

  “They’d been working for years trying to link Krestyanov to human trafficking. They needed the money link and hard evidence, and a sixteen-year-old girl found it.”

  “What happened then?”

  “It was enough to get a warrant. They raided my parents’ house before break was even over.”

  “Did you go back?”

  “I had to. I had to pretend I had no clue what was going on. Which I did, until the indictments started and I had to testify.”

  It feels so good to finally tell someone everything. Someone that I know, deep in my heart I can trust completely.

  Funny, I’ve known people my entire life but knew never to trust them with even the slightest secret, except Paige, but in my gut I know I can trust Gabe with everything. Even my heart.

  I’ve kept myself closed up for so long. So afraid to get close to any guy for fear I’d slip up and reveal the truth. That they’d be disgusted with me and I’d lose them. I’ve never had an honest relationship with a guy until now.

  Gabe – 29

  Ellen looks up at me, a gentle smile on her lips. Her face and body are more relaxed than I’ve seen it before. Even after incredible sex. It’s like she’s relieved of a burden that’s she’s been carrying around for far too long.

  I also know it’s only temporary. She’ll be waiting for Scott to call. Then what? I don’t ask because I’m not certain she even knows. Regardless, I’ll find a way to support her no matter what. Hell, I’ll probably be out of a job anyway. If she has to go back to Nevada I’ll go with her.

  “What are your plans tonight?” she asks.

  I can’t tell her I need to speak with Mag, especially since I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to her yet. “I’ve got a meeting, but it shouldn’t take long.”

  Ellen frowns. “Okay.”

  “Let me check what time.” I pull the phone out of my pocket. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  She looks at me suspiciously.

  “It’s about work.” I wink at her and walk away.

  “Hey, Gabe,” Mag answers after I punch in her number. “No decision has been made yet.”

  “I know. That’s not why I’m calling.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t think the security in the main office is as good as you think it is.”

  She sighs. “Someone should have caught your connection to Isaac. We are looking into it.”

  “Not just that. What did they find on Ellen West?”

  “The reporter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not sure. They don’t give me everything. Just who can and shouldn’t be on campus.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Why?”

  I don’t want to talk about this on the phone. “Can you meet me in a couple of hours?”

  “Sure.” There’s concern in her voice. “Where?”

  “The picnic tables by the lake.” There were once picnic and camping grounds when Baxter opened as a historical reenactment plantation and later used for the campers, but walls were built, blocking access to that part of the estate. It’s still owned by Baxter, and sometimes in the summer, in June when the kids are off school, they take them there.

  “I’ll see you there.”

  “And, read her blog if you get a chance. It’s called Looking West.”

  Ellen

  I thought there weren’t going to be any more secrets between us, but Gabe makes certain I can’t overhear is conversation. Is he already telling someone my secrets?

  No. He wouldn’t. Would he?

  Shit! Can’t I trust anyone? My stomach churns. The more people who know, the more likely I’ll be discovered. Nobody can kill me or make me do anything if they can’t find me.

  Stop! This paranoia is getting ridiculous. Just because I’m a bit anxious, for good reason, doesn’t mean I can’t trust Gabe. His phone call could h
ave everything to do with work and nothing about me.

  He clicks off the phone and comes back. “How about dinner tonight?”

  “I thought you had a meeting,” I remind him.

  “I’ll be done by six. Want to go somewhere?”

  “Not really.” It’s the truth. I’m fine right now, in the park, with hardly anyone around, but restaurants and places like that make me nervous, especially in a new town where I would recognize only a handful of people. I wouldn’t be able to relax. “Stay in and watch a movie?”

  “Takeout?”

  “I’ll cook.” I haven’t cooked in a really long time. It’s too much of a pain for just myself. But cooking for Gabe is an entirely different story.

  Gabe – 30

  “What’s this about, Gabe?” Meg asks as soon as I get out of my car. She’s already seated at one of the picnic tables.

  “Who is in charge of vetting people?”

  “Tabitha. I’ve already talked to her about Isaac.”

  “Was she in charge of doing a background check on Ellen West?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you know that’s there no evidence that Ellen West existed prior to six years ago?”

  Mag’s eyes grow large, alarmed. “Who is she?”

  “Did you read her blog?” I ask instead of answering the question.

  “Only about half of it.” Mag shakes her head. “She thinks we’re hurting kids, doesn’t she? Where the hell did she get that idea? She isn’t even from around here.”

  “She didn’t tell me.” I sit next to her on the bench.

  “I can’t let her back on the campus.” Mag looks at me. “The board assumed it would be a fluff piece, good for advertising and reputation to further the kids’ education. We can’t risk bad publicity.”

  I have to laugh. “Actually, I think you should allow her more access, within reason, of course.”

  Mag eyes me suspiciously.

  “She’s going to keep digging. She thinks there’s a story here. And there is, but not one that can be put on social media or in the papers.” I push my fingers through my hair, still struggling with how much to reveal. “For some reason she’s worried about the kids. If you let her visit the campus a few more times, she’s going to see all is well.”

  “What if she learns things that aren’t any of her business? These kids deserve privacy and protection.”

  “I think she would keep it to herself,” I answer honestly. “And, she’d probably leave without looking back.”

  Mag turns, tilts her head, narrowing her blue eyes studying me. “How well do you know her?”

  “Well enough to trust her.”

  “Do you know where she came from? Who she is?”

  “Yeah. We’ve gotten close.” As in, I’ve had sex with her and probably will again very soon. And if possible, I’d be spending every moment with her.

  She’s facing me fully now, straddling the bench, full of interest. “Then tell me about her.”

  “I can’t.”

  Mag pulls back, her eyes wide with surprise. “What?”

  “I promised to keep her confidence, but I have done a background check and checked out her story. I won’t betray her confidence any more than I’ll tell her about the kids at Baxter.”

  She’s studying me. “You do trust her?” Mag asks slowly.

  “Yeah! More than I do most people.”

  “I want to talk to her.”

  “I’d rather she didn’t know I came to you before I have a chance to tell her.”

  Mag smiles. “I won’t tell her then.” She gets up and dusts off her jeans. “However, she won’t be invited back until you’ve been cleared.”

  My heartbeat increases. I may not be out of a job. “I can come back?”

  “Tara’s fairly certain. She just wants to meet with Isaac one more time. He’s adamant about wanting you around and insists the only reason you were there in the first place was trying to protect him.”

  “How soon?” Maybe I need to spend tonight getting ready to teach instead of having dinner with Ellen. Though, I’d certainly rather be with Ellen.

  “Probably on Friday,” she answers. “The soccer coach is stopping by after classes and I want you to meet with him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s just one of the coaches. He knows the game and it’s what he does. You’re actually going to be in charge of the program, making sure the kids practice, get in shape, and things like that.”

  I can’t help but grin. My dad would shit if he knew I was coaching soccer. I am half tempted to call and give him the good news.

  “That is, if you want to. We’ll need to renegotiate it into the contract.”

  “I’d love to.” And, I’ll also have to brush up on the rules of the game. Maybe my sister can give me some pointers.

  Damn, I wish I could see her play, but with the surgeries and therapy of the last year and a half, I really haven’t had a chance. Before that, I was in college and before that, well, Dad thought I had better things to do than attend my sister’s soccer games. She was at practically all of my games, because it was required of her, but I never got a chance to see her play. I’ll have to make sure I attend games next fall. It’s only about a three hour drive from here to Syracuse. Maybe she’ll have some games during our week break in September.

  Yes, I will make that happen, one way or another.

  “You won’t be returning to classes right away,” she warns.

  “Why?”

  “You’ll be escorting the reporter. Someone’s got to babysit her and it might as well be you.”

  “What about my classes?”

  “Jenna will continue subbing.”

  “Jenna? She’s a counselor. Does she have a teaching degree?”

  “No. But it isn’t like we can call in a sub like regular schools.” She tilts her head and gives me a look that says I should have realized that. “We’re already short with Alexia combining her classes until a replacement for Jesse can be found, and at this point, there’s only little over a month left of school, so we aren’t going to rush it.”

  Anger strikes through me at Jesse’s name. Mag is one of them who determined he needed to go.

  “We didn’t have a choice,” she says as if reading my mind. “He won’t be out of the hospital for another week because of all of his injuries and who knows how long he’ll be in therapy.”

  “But to fire him? The girl recanted.” I’m glad I get to question her on this.

  “Yes, she did, but we have to be very careful about what and how things get linked back to Baxter, if they ever are.”

  “So, that’s it.” I don’t even try to hide the fact that I’m still pissed.

  “No. We plan on revisiting the situation when he is recovered enough to teach again, to see how things play out and if anyone ever questions his relation to Baxter. He’s a good teacher. The kids like him. I hope he can come back.”

  So they didn’t just hang him out to dry and move on. That makes me feel a little better.

  “None of our decisions are ever made lightly or without thoughtful consideration,” Mag points out.

  “I know,” I finally say. If they made snap decisions, I would have been fired in less than a heartbeat yesterday.

  “So, Ellen knows you aren’t teaching right now, doesn’t she?” Her eyes bore into mine. Is she worried I may have told Ellen more than I should?

  “She knows I’m on paid leave,” I blurt out.

  Her eyes widen “Why the hell did you tell her that?”

  “I didn’t, she guessed when I wouldn’t tell her why I wasn’t teaching. She also thinks it has something to do with Isaac. I didn’t confirm or deny, of course, but she researched me and made the connection, guessed at it. Again, I didn’t tell her anything.”

  “Are you sure we can trust her? She’s a reporter and nothing good ever comes from reporters snooping around.”

  “I think you’d be surprised and, I wish I could tell y
ou, but I can’t.”

  Ellen

  This is the worst meal ever! The outside of the chicken is black and the inside is pink. I can’t ask Gabe to eat this. I can’t stomach it myself. The rice has too much liquid and the vegetables are mush.

  Why the hell did I offer to cook him a meal? I haven’t cooked in ages and clearly forgot how.

  Well, there’s no help for it. I’ve got to order a pizza.

  After dumping the remains of dinner into the trash, I find the number for Antonio’s which I’ve been told is the best pizza in the State of New York, yet to be determined by me, and order a large combination. I like tons of stuff on my pizza, and I hope Gabe does too. If not, I hope the pieces are large enough to pick off. After glancing at the time, I have just enough to go get the pizza and be back by the time he arrives. I’m just glad I had already taken a shower and changed my clothing before I destroyed dinner.

  Gabe pulls into the parking lot behind the house right after I do. He sees the pizza box and lifts a brow.

  “Don’t ask please.”

  He glances up at the house. “I don’t see any smoke so it can’t be all bad.”

  “How was your meeting?” I’m curious as hell, but when it comes to anything Baxter related, he’s never forthcoming.

  “Good,” he says, taking the box from me as we head into the house and he follows me up the first flight of stairs. My apartment is right above his, though I only have one bedroom. He puts the pizza box on the table and I grab two beers out of the fridge before grabbing plates, utensils and napkins. My mouth is watering from the smell of Italian spices. Either I’m very hungry or this is the best pizza in New York. Or, at least it smells like the best pizza in New York.

  I put a piece on his plate and then mine and we both sit. “I hope you don’t mind a lot of toppings.”

  “As long as there isn’t pineapple or anchovies, I’m good.”