Protection

by Linda Rettstatt

  She next thought of Jake, wishing he was there to reassure her, comfort her. But even Jake couldn’t rescue her from this mess. The one thought that she’d held at bay came roaring through the darkness like an angry dragon—what if they actually convicted her of the crimes with which she’d been charged?

  *

  Maggie Randolph looked much the way Shannon would have expected—about five foot six, not thin but compact, with a determined walk and fiery red hair. She brought to mind one of those miniature Tonka dump trucks—bright, sturdy, and ready for work. Her handshake was warm and reassuring.

  She spread out papers from her briefcase, glanced at them, then peered over the top of her glasses at Shannon. “I’m betting I already know more about this than you do. The defendant’s always the last to know.” She folded neatly-manicured fingers together in front of her. “According to the District Attorney, you entered into a legally-binding agreement with Mark and Corinne Hastings to carry their child and, upon birth of said child, to relinquish all parental rights of said child. You were to be paid the amount of fifty-thousand dollars when the child was given over to the Hastings’.”

  Shannon opened her mouth, but Maggie held up a hand to stop her. “According to the Hastings’, you had been paid ten thousand dollars in advance and you subsequently refused to give them the child and absconded with both the baby and the ten thousand dollars. The police report shows that a search of your apartment yielded a briefcase with ten thousand seven hundred dollars inside.” She removed her glasses and studied Shannon’s face. “Okay. Speak.”

  “All of that is false. Well, almost all of it.” She told Maggie about Corinne showing up at her apartment and tossing ten thousand dollars at her before walking out the door. “I never signed any agreement. The baby was completely unplanned, trust me. Mark never wanted a baby. He wanted me to get an abortion.”

  “Why do you think Corinne Hastings would come after you and your baby so aggressively? What woman would want a child that was born out of her husband’s infidelity?”

  Shannon winced. “I truly don’t know. I never asked Mark for a thing. I was content to raise Bailey…Amanda…as my child, alone. Then Corinne found out about us and started pushing for me to let them adopt the baby. When I refused, she came to my apartment and pretty much threatened me that if I didn’t just take the money and give over the baby, I’d be sorry.”

  Maggie nodded. “They also assert that you talked with Mark Hastings and told him if he wanted the baby, to bring a hundred thousand dollars to you and he could have her. He claims that he was unable to come himself and sent Anthony Baker, his brother-in-law, on his behalf.” She slid a stapled stack of papers across the table. “This, they claim, is the signed agreement.”

  Shannon took the papers in trembling hands and read. It all looked so legal, even down to her signature. “I did not sign this. I never saw this document.”

  “That’s not your signature?”

  Studying it closely, Shannon said, “It looks like my signature, but it has to be forged. I would never have signed this.” Then she thought of the papers she had signed that first day she and Mark had met at the bank. “He forged my signature.”

  Maggie gathered up the papers and placed them inside the briefcase. “Okay. I won’t tell you this is going to be easy. We’re going up against the Governor of Missouri. She’s got a major pro-life constituency. But you know what?” She gave Shannon a grin. “I don’t like bullies. And I believe you. The challenge will be to prove they’re lying. That will be my job. Your job, for now, is to think of anything Mark Hastings said to you while you were involved that could dispute what they claim. Also, if you think of other women with whom he’s been involved in the past, it would help. Nothing like a pissed off ex-girlfriend.”

  “I was only with Mark for two months, then I broke it off. I found out about the baby a week later. I also found out then about his reputation for philandering. I was so stupid.” She took as shuddering breath. “Do you really think we can win this?”

  “You know why I have such a great win percentage? Because I don’t take on cases I don’t think I can win. You do everything I tell you to do and stay calm and focused. You’re scheduled for arraignment at three in Seattle. They’re hurrying this along for some reason. We’ll appear before the judge, along with the D.A. They’ll read the charges and ask how you plead.”

  “I’m not guilty of this.”

  “Then that’s how we plead. I’ll try to get them to set bail, pleading the case that you’re a single mother, but I’m not optimistic. Mainly because they’ll argue that you’re a flight risk. By the way, where is your baby?”

  “She’s with her sitter. But my best friend is flying in this afternoon and my mom arrives tomorrow. They’ll take care of her.”

  “Good. I’ll see you later this afternoon. I have some work to do before the arraignment.” Maggie walked to the door and knocked. “Shannon, thank you for letting me represent you.”

  “Wait. Maggie, would you call my friend, Brooke, and let her know what’s happening?”

  “Sure.” She punched the number into her phone as Shannon gave it to her.

  When the officer led Shannon back to her cell, he handed her a brown paper bag. “Your attorney left this for you. I had to check it first.”

  She glanced inside—a box of tampons, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, a dark chocolate Godiva candy bar, and a paperback romance novel. Maggie had thought of everything. “Thanks.”

  As much as she tried to stay calm, her heart pounded and her breath came in short gasps. She sat in her cell and tried to imagine the arraignment, a judge hearing the claims of a respected Governor and then looking at Shannon—a woman with an alias, a gun, a lot of money, and no one to back up her story. And in the jumpsuit with her new blond, spiky hairdo, she looked the part of a felon. All she needed was a tattoo of a skull and crossbones on her neck and a silver stud piercing one eyebrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jake paced the hotel room. He had two hours before it would be time to head to the Federal courthouse to give his testimony. He stopped in front of the full-length mirror and stared. His black pants, jacket, and shirt, accented by the white tab at his throat, looked as foreign as the neatly-groomed man staring back at him.

  In an effort to calm his nerves and distract his mind, he turned on the TV. Nothing on at this hour but the morning news. He opened a bottle of water and sat in the barrel-backed chair.

  First a story about global warming, then a segment on the gun lobby battles. He got up to drop the empty bottle into a recycling bag the hotel provided. His head snapped around at the next news story.

  “Breaking news from the Missouri capital. Governor Corinne Baker Hastings will hold a news conference later today. Apparently, she and her husband, Mark Hastings, had contracted with a woman to act as a surrogate mother for their child. The woman…”

  Jake flinched as Shannon’s photo appeared on the screen.

  “…Heather Carlson, a former bank manager from Jefferson City, allegedly agreed to carry the child for the Hastings, then backed out of the deal and absconded with both the baby and the ten thousand dollar advance payment given her by Governor Hastings.”

  Jake slowly walked back to the chair and dropped down. A surrogate? She acted like the victim in the situation, and he had believed her. She wasn’t much better than Crowley had been, selling children for a profit. The thought sickened him.

  The commentator continued, “Ms. Carlson, who has been living under the assumed name of Shannon Chase, is currently incarcerated in Snoqualmie, Washington awaiting arraignment on a charge of attempted murder. This past Saturday night, she shot a man she claims was an intruder into her apartment. That man is Anthony Baker, the brother of the Governor. We’re still getting all of the details, but one source tells us that Ms. Carlson contacted Mark Hastings last week to make a new deal for one hundred thousand dollars to turn over the baby girl. Unable to fly immediately to Washing
ton state, Mr. Hastings asked his brother-in-law to meet with the woman. We’ll have more details as they become available. Ms. Carlson is scheduled to be arraigned in a Seattle court later today.”

  Jake stared at the TV screen as the photo of Shannon faded and they moved on to another story. He picked up the remote and surfed channels, finding another displaying Shannon’s photo as Heather Carlson and as she looked now with spiky blond hair. They showed a shot of Shannon sitting hunched in the back of a police car, crying.

  His heart lurched for Bailey as he wondered where she had been, who would care for her now. She was the one victim in all of this. And to think he’d gone out of his way, put Caleb in a thankless position, just to get her proper documentation so she could live as Shannon Chase. “Damn.” Jake felt like a fool. He owed Caleb an apology. And what about Abe and Helen Swinson? He’d delivered a felon to their doorstep. Jake had beaten himself up for failing to keep the promises he’d made. Meanwhile, Shannon or Heather—whoever the hell she was calling herself now—had promised a child and then failed to follow through.

  His cell phone was buried in his duffle bag, since he couldn’t take it with him into court. He needed to call somebody in Snoqualmie and find out exactly what was going on.

  The phone on the night stand rang. “Yes?”

  “Father Avery, it’s Vince. We’re waiting for you in the lobby. Time to go.”

  “I’ll be right down.” His phone call would have to wait.

  At the courthouse, he was sequestered in a small private room until time for his testimony. It only gave him more time to think. The more he thought, the more idiotic he felt. And that soon transformed into anger. He had taken Shannon and her baby into his home, cared for them, helped her obtain identification and a place to live. And what thanks did he get? She lied to him about everything. She even came onto him, made it impossible for him not to act on impulse.

  Jake shook his head. No, he couldn’t put all of that on Shannon. He’d made love to her because he wanted to. She hadn’t stopped him, but that didn’t mean she was out to trap him, either. He’d told the Bishop to get his papers ready for his withdrawal from Diocesan ministry. He was ready to break promises for Shannon—promises he’d made to God, no less.

  The door opened. “Father Avery, they’re ready for you.”

  As he walked with the marshal toward the court room, he had the feeling this was the last walk of Father Steve Avery. He’d been living as Jake Garber and, now that he’d made the decision to leave the priesthood, he couldn’t go back to that name, that identity. He slid a finger under his collar and swallowed, straightened his shoulders and entered the court room.

  It shouldn’t have surprised him that no clergy were present—not a single priest in gallery. When he was called to take the stand, Jake walked briskly to the front to be sworn in, then took a seat in the witness chair.

  The District Attorney stood in front of him. “Father Avery, will you recount for the court the events you witnessed at St. Damian’s rectory on the evening of May sixteenth of 2011?”

  Jake went through the events from the time he received the phone call from the parishioner’s family and his return to the rectory to what he’d seen and heard there.

  “And you have no doubt Louis Crowley was the man speaking with Father Martin at the time?”

  “I’m certain. I not only heard him, but I saw Lou—Mr. Crowley—leave the rectory with a young child, a girl maybe six or seven years old. Lou wasn’t happy because he said the couple was expecting a child of no more than three years.”

  “Did you question Father Martin about this later?”

  “Not immediately. I went to the hospital to administer last rights to a parishioner. Later, when I asked about Lou being there, Alvin seemed nervous and said Lou just stopped by to say hello. I didn’t mention the child.”

  “And you went to the police?”

  “I did. I wasn’t comfortable with what I’d heard and the fact that it involved a child. So I spoke with the police who put me in touch with the Bureau of Criminal Investigation.”

  The DA nodded as he paced, then turned to face Jake. “Is it true that you received death threats from the defendant?”

  “I received threats, yes.”

  “Could you speak up, Father Avery?”

  Jake leaned forward toward the microphone. “I received threats and the BCI thought they were coming from Mr. Crowley.”

  “Is it true that for the past two years and four months you have lived under a new identity and under the protection of U.S. Marshals?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you are aware that Father Alvin Martin was murdered in his cell three weeks ago?”

  Jake nodded. “Yes, I heard.”

  A muffled sob erupted from Sara Martin who was seated beside Lou Crowley and wearing shackles and handcuffs.

  The D.A. returned to his seat at the prosecution table. “I have no further questions for this witness at this time, Your Honor.”

  The defense attorney, a short, squat man with thinning red hair and a belly protruding over his belt, stood. He approached Jake with a pensive expression on his face. “Father Avery, have you lived as a priest for the past two years and four months?”

  The question seemed non-essential, but Jake leaned toward the microphone again. “No, sir, not if you mean in active ministry.”

  “Would you tell the court how your alter ego, Jake Garber, has lived then?”

  The D.A. objected. “I don’t see what this has to do with our proceedings. And we are not speaking of an alter ego. Father Avery was issued a new identity for his own protection.”

  The judge narrowed his eyes at the defense attorney. “I’ll allow it, but be careful.”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Father Avery, describe your life in the past two years four months, please.”

  “I was given the identity of Jake Garber and relocated to Snoqualmie, Washington. I sustain myself working as a carpenter. I learned the trade from my grandfather when I was growing up.”

  “What about relationships?”

  “Relationships? I…well…I have a few friends there. I pretty much keep to myself. I was told to be cautious, keep a low profile.”

  The attorney repeated, “Cautious. Would you say that a priest in exile taking up with a woman is being cautious?”

  Lou Crowley snickered. Murmurs rolled through the courtroom and the D.A. was on his feet. “Your Honor…”

  The judge smacked his gavel. “I’ll have order in my court.” He glared at the defense attorney. “Mr. Vance… Both of you approach.”

  “Your Honor, my line of questioning goes to the credibility of the witness. He’s been living a lie for the past month, maybe longer. How do we know he’s not been lying from the start?”

  The D.A. shook his head. “How my witness has chosen to live his life in the past few months has no bearing on what he observed two and half years ago.”

  Jake could see where this was going and he dreaded the questions that would come. Especially in light of the fact that the woman in this ‘relationship’ was just arrested for attempted murder.

  The judge pointed to the defense attorney. “Do not cross a line here, Mr. Vance.”

  “Understood, Your Honor.”

  The D.A. cast Jake a questioning glance as he returned to his seat.

  Jake could feel perspiration breaking out on his upper lip and forehead. He wanted to wipe it away, but didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that the current line of questioning made him nervous.

  “Father Avery, is it true that you have been involved in a relationship with a woman in the past few months?”

  Was it a relationship? They were friends, but then they’d had sex. What was it called—friends with benefits? Jake glanced at the judge and then at the D.A., hoping one of them would intervene. Neither did.

  “I have a few friends who are women.”

  “Oh, a few.” Vance chuckled. “Quite the ladies’ man.”

  “
Objection,” shouted the D.A.

  “Granted. Mr. Vance wrap this up now, and you better have a point,” the judge cautioned.

  “Yes, Your Honor. I do have a point.” He turned back to face Jake. “Is it true that you took in a woman and her baby, provided them shelter, lived with them before helping her secure her own place.”

  “Yes. She needed help….”

  “And as a priest, you are still bound by vows, am I correct?”

  “As a Diocesan priest, I am bound to my promise of celibacy. Yes.” Sweat now poured down Jake’s back and he squirmed. The movement wasn’t lost on the attorney.

  “Did you engage in a physical relationship with this woman?”

  Jake swallowed hard. He was under oath. “I… Yes, I did.”

  The judge slammed his gavel again to silence the murmurings in the room.

  “Well, then, why should we believe your testimony here today? Apparently you have little integrity in honoring promises and sacred vows. How do we know you even meant what you said when you were sworn in?”

  The D.A. leaped to his feet, sending his chair scraping along the floor. “Your Honor, this is Mr. Vance’s attempt to discredit our witness. But it’s like comparing apples and oranges. Father Avery gave the police his account of what happened over two years ago when he was still active in the priesthood. His account has not wavered in all that time. His personal relationships have nothing to do with this case.”

  “It has everything to do with his credibility,” the defense attorney said.

  The judge scowled at both attorneys and then at Jake. “Move on, Mr. Vance.”

  With a smirk cast at Jake, the attorney said, “I have no further questions at this time.”

  “Your Honor, I request a brief recess to confer with my witness,” the D.A. said wearily.