Shielding His Christmas Witness

by Laura Scott

  “Can you see his badge?” Miles asked. “What’s the number?”

  “His last name is Plato, his badge number is 478. We’re on the corner of Howell and Seventy-Sixth Street.”

  “I know Greg Plato. I want to talk to him.”

  Kari swallowed hard and leaned over the center console. “Officer Plato? I have Miles Callahan on the phone. He’d like to talk to you.”

  “Callahan?” Officer Plato looked surprised, then frowned, looking down at Marc’s wallet that he still held in his hand. “You’re Marcus Callahan?”

  “Yes. And the woman with me is a key witness against a man suspected of serial bank robberies,” Marc said, still holding his hands up, palms facing outward. “This truck isn’t stolen, either. Garrett Rolland is in the Marines, doing time in Afghanistan. He also happens to be a friend of Mitch’s.”

  “Please talk to Miles?” Kari pleaded. “We’re in danger sitting here like this.”

  Officer Plato muttered a curse under his breath but reached for her phone. “Callahan? What’s going on?”

  She tried to catch Marc’s gaze, but he was looking around the area, alert to the possibility of a threat. Would the man responsible for the leak inside the task force wait for Marc to be brought down for questioning? Or was he right now hiding somewhere nearby with a gun trained on her?

  Shivering in the passenger-side seat, Kari waited for Officer Plato to come to his senses. His scowl deepened as he listened to whatever Miles was telling him.

  “Okay, okay. Thanks.” The officer handed the phone back to her through the open window. “I trust your brother, so I’m letting you go. But you need to do something about the license plate, or you’ll just get pulled over by some other cop.”

  “Understood, thank you,” Marc said, holding out a hand for his wallet. “I appreciate your assistance.”

  “Yeah, I’ll call it in as a false alarm, the way Miles suggested,” Officer Plato said on a sigh. “Get rid of those plates ASAP, understand?”

  “Do you have any tools with you?” Marc asked. “I’ll take them off right now.”

  The officer hesitated, as if he didn’t want to get too involved, then he shrugged. “Sure, just a sec.”

  Marc flashed her a reassuring smile, then followed the officer back to his squad. Ten minutes later, they were back on the road, sans license plate.

  “I’m not sure how this helps. We can still get pulled over for not having it, right?” Kari said, clenching her fingers together nervously.

  “True. We’ll find a motel and then see if Miles can bring us a replacement.”

  She nodded and tried to relax. What would she do without the Callahans? She and Marc would never have gotten this far without the help of his family.

  As he drove, she kept her eyes glued to the side-view mirror, half expecting to see a cop car coming up behind them at any moment. When her phone rang a few minutes later, she startled so badly she dropped it.

  To pick it up, she had to bend sideways, making her realize all over again that her belly was getting bigger. Did it always happen this way, that one minute your stomach didn’t seem too big, the next it popped out like a basketball?

  “Hello?” she asked breathlessly.

  “It’s Miles. Where are you?”

  “Officer Plato let us go, and we took the license plates off, too. We’re looking for a new hotel.”

  “Put the phone on speaker so I can talk to Marc.”

  Kari complied, holding the phone between them.

  “Thanks, Miles, I’m glad you happened to know that guy,” Marc said in a grim tone.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not good that Garrett’s truck is listed as stolen. How did they get the plate numbers, anyway?”

  Marc explained how he’d gone to his condo and was briefly followed by a black SUV with tinted windows, much like the one that had followed them earlier. “I can only assume that the driver ran the plates, and realized that Garrett had ties to Mitch, and therefore to me. Then he must have decided to report the truck as stolen as a way to track me down.”

  Miles let out a low whistle. “I don’t like it, bro. Not one bit.”

  “Me neither,” Marc agreed. “I’m hoping you can bring me replacement license plates when you come by later.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Miles’s tone held a distinct sarcasm. “We have dozens of license plates just lying around waiting to be used.”

  “Do you know a good place for us to stay?” Kari asked.

  “There’s a place way out in the country, off Highway 177, called the Shamrock Inn.”

  “I know where it is,” Marc agreed. “Good idea. We’ll get settled there. Give us a call when you’re ready to leave Mom’s.”

  “She’s not happy you skipped out on brunch,” Miles said. “But don’t worry, we downplayed the danger. Mitch is coming with me, Matthew is still in K9 training and Michael is hot on some other case.”

  “Thanks. See you soon.”

  Kari disconnected from the call, glad that two of Marc’s brothers would be there to help. Marc needed backup and she was useless when it came to anything related to law enforcement.

  “The Shamrock Inn is a good twenty-minute ride from here,” Marc told her. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “As if I can sleep after being stopped by the police like that,” she scoffed. “Not likely.”

  “That was a close call,” Marc muttered. “I should have thought of swapping the license plates sooner.”

  Too close, she silently agreed. If she hadn’t called Miles, she was certain that Officer Plato would have arrested Marc despite his being with the FBI.

  “We didn’t know for certain the SUV outside your condo belonged to the gunmen,” she reminded him. “Especially when they backed off, leaving us alone.”

  “Pretending to leave us alone,” Marc said harshly. “I should have anticipated they’d run the plates and figure out that Garrett was Mitch’s friend.”

  “We’re fine now,” she soothed, wishing he wouldn’t be so hard on himself. Was this the intensity that drove him to work long hours, leaving his wife to find her fun elsewhere? Not that she believed his wife’s actions were at all justified.

  Marc’s jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything further.

  Kari couldn’t help thinking back to his earlier confession, about his wife’s affair and the baby she’d carried that he hadn’t fathered. Her heart went out to him for the anguish he’d suffered.

  She truly wanted him to forgive Jessica, and more so to forgive himself. But hearing his story had given her the impression that even if she’d lived, he wouldn’t have been able to accept the baby as his.

  A fluttering in her abdomen distracted her and she slipped her hand beneath her coat to press against the tiny movements. They seemed stronger now, as if her baby was gaining weight day by day.

  Rubbing her hand over her stomach, she told herself that it was a good thing she knew the truth about Marc’s wife. No wonder he lived in such austere surroundings. And if he couldn’t accept his wife’s pregnancy, demanding a DNA test, she doubted he’d be willing to take on another baby that wasn’t his.

  Had she really thought there was a chance he would? That his kisses had meant something more than offering comfort during a time of stress? Okay, maybe there was a bit of a connection between them, but she couldn’t afford to call it anything other than friendship.

  She should be honored to have Marc as a friend. So why did she yearn for something more?

  Her heart wrenched in her chest, but she ignored it. Hadn’t she decided that she was better off raising her baby alone? Her mother had done a great job with raising her; she needed to do the same for this child.

  She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize that Ma
rc had pulled into the parking lot of the less than prestigious Shamrock Inn.

  From what she could tell, there were barely ten rooms total and the outside of the building looked as if it could use several coats of new paint. The m in the Shamrock was burned out, but the vacancy sign was lit up in the lobby window.

  “Stay here. I’ll be back shortly,” Marc said.

  She nodded, not willing to risk anyone recognizing her, even here, way out of the city. She could only imagine how much press the story was getting and many people were news junkies.

  It seemed like a long time before Marc returned to the truck. He slid into the seat and made a U-turn, driving around to the back of the building.

  “Problems?” she asked.

  “No, we have our two connecting rooms,” he said, releasing a ragged breath. “But it took me a while to convince the clerk to allow us to park in back. Apparently, business is slow and she wanted the truck parked out front to prove they have guests.”

  She lifted a brow. “You’d think they’d be busy in the two weeks before Christmas.”

  He shrugged and set the computer on the desk and the duffel on the bed. He removed the plastic bag she’d used for her things and handed it to her. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, thanks.” Even if she did want something she wouldn’t tell him. There was no sense in Marc driving around in the truck with no license plates.

  She crossed the threshold between their rooms, suppressing a sigh. The place smelled musty, as if the rooms hadn’t been used recently. At least they’d only be here one night.

  Her stomach tightened at the thought of testifying in court first thing in the morning. For so long now, they’d been focused on staying one step ahead of the gunmen.

  The prosecutor had gone over her testimony several times with her, before the night she’d been forced to go on the run. She knew Jamison’s defense attorney, a high-powered lawyer out of Chicago, would go after her character and challenge her memory of that day.

  Twenty-four hours, she reminded herself. Twenty-four hours and she’d be finished with her testimony.

  And then she’d be forced to go into witness protection, leaving behind her life as she knew it.

  * * *

  Marc contacted his brothers, reminding them to bring the replacement license plates. At least they’d only need them for a short time. Once Kari testified, he’d turn her over to witness protection and they’d do their job of creating a new identity for her.

  He didn’t like that plan, but it was better than having her be in danger from whoever was trying to silence her.

  Logically, she shouldn’t be in danger once she’d testified, but nothing about this situation made sense. Why come after Kari, when it would be easier to take out Jamison?

  No, he kept coming back to the fact that Kari must have seen something that pointed to the identity of the leak inside the task force.

  A sharp rapping on his door interrupted his thoughts. He crossed over and put his eye to the peephole to make sure his brothers were the ones out there.

  “Thanks for coming,” Marc said, opening the door for Miles and Mitch to enter.

  “No biggie,” Mitch said with a shrug. “You’d do the same for us.”

  He would, and was thankful for the Callahan legacy of family that their parents had instilled within them. Mitch held the license plates in his hand. “Where’s the truck? I’ll swap these out before we get to work.”

  “In the back,” Marc told him.

  “Where’s our pretty witness?” Miles asked with a broad smile.

  “Your charm is wasted on me, Miles Callahan,” Kari said from the doorway. “But I’ll give you brownie points for trying.”

  His brother didn’t seem fazed by her comments. “Actually, I have good news for you. The Chicago Police have Vince Ackerman, aka Andrew Volkman, aka numerous other aliases in custody for theft. He’s facing several counts, and more women are coming forward every day. He’ll do hard time for what he’s done.”

  Kari’s smile faded and she once again put her hand on her abdomen. “I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

  Miles’s eyes widened, and he turned to glance at Marc. “Is she...” His voice trailed off.

  “Yes, I am almost nineteen weeks pregnant,” Kari said drily. “Tried to tell you not to waste your charm on me.”

  “I’m just surprised, that’s all,” Miles said defensively. He turned toward Marc. “You’re right. We need a foolproof plan to get her into the courthouse safely.”

  “Yeah,” Marc agreed. “Let’s get to work.”

  When Mitch returned a few minutes later, Marc outlined his plan. “I want to bring Kari in through the underground parking structure, limiting the ability for a sniper shot.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” Miles said in a serious tone. “But we’ll need to get in there super early, to make sure there isn’t anyone hiding down there.”

  Marc nodded. “And I want Kari to wear body armor.”

  Miles frowned. “Not sure that will help protect her baby.”

  “Baby?” Mitch echoed in surprise.

  “Yeah, she’s pregnant. Which means we need to protect both of them.”

  Mitch whistled, then nodded. “Okay. What else?”

  “I want you both to promise me something,” Marc said, keeping his voice low so Kari wouldn’t hear.

  “What?” Miles asked.

  “No matter what happens to me, I want you to promise you’ll get Kari to safety. I want you to stay with her during her testimony and afterward, until she’s taken into custody by the US Marshals.”

  His brothers exchanged a long look. “No way are we leaving you behind, bro,” Miles said.

  “Listen, Kari is the innocent victim here,” Marc said in a harsh whisper. “She’s pregnant and without her testimony Jamison will walk. So yeah, I absolutely expect you to protect her at all costs, understand? No matter what.”

  “Fine, we’ll abide by your wishes,” Mitch said in a grim tone. “But we need to make sure we’re all wearing body armor.”

  Miles scowled but nodded reluctantly. “Okay, okay. Are you sure we don’t have any clues as to who the leak is? If we could nail him, then Kari wouldn’t be a target.”

  “There are three potential suspects,” Marc admitted. “But absolutely no proof against any of them. Just financial troubles, that’s all.”

  “Greed is often the primary motive for murder,” Miles said.

  “I know, but since Jamison isn’t talking, we don’t know which one of them is the leak,” Marc admitted. “And honestly, the person on the task force easily could have mentioned something to a family member. The leak might not have been intentional.”

  “What does your gut say?” Mitch asked.

  He hesitated. “Steve Young has just gotten divorced and David Hermes is a year behind on his child-support payments. Monique Barclay also has bad debt, but when I dug into her background it seems that most of her bad debt is related to loans she cosigned with her younger sister. Maybe it’s sexist, but I can’t see Monique getting involved in a series of bank robberies.”

  “It is sexist,” Mitch spoke up. “But unfortunately, based on what you’ve told us, I’m inclined to agree with you.”

  “Steve Young and David Hermes, huh?” Miles said. “I can’t say I’ve met either one of them.”

  “Me neither,” Mitch acknowledged. “But we can probably find pictures of them online.”

  Miles went to work on the computer, while Mitch and Marc watched. It didn’t take Miles long to pull up images of both men. Seeing Steve Young in his dress police uniform and David Hermes wearing a dark suit and tie, he doubted his wisdom in making these two his top suspects all over again.

  They both had too much to lose by participating in bank
robberies. Yet at the same time, Marc knew that desperate people often did desperate things.

  “These guys look like your average cops to me,” Mitch said in disgust. “Why would they risk smearing their reputations?”

  “I don’t know,” Marc said.

  “Let’s see if we can dig into their backgrounds a bit more,” Miles suggested.

  “I’m game,” Mitch agreed.

  Marc sat back, letting Miles work on the computer. When it was clear that the search would take a while, he excused himself to go check on Kari.

  Her room was quiet, so he stepped carefully across the threshold. He found her curled up on top of her bed, with the motel bible lying open next to her, sound asleep.

  His fingers itched to push the dark strands of hair away from her face, but he forced himself to stay put. He didn’t want to risk waking her, knowing she needed her rest.

  Yet he couldn’t seem to walk away. Instead he once again watched her sleep, trying not to think about the fact that by this time tomorrow, she’d be whisked off by the US Marshals under a completely different identity.

  An identity that he’d never know, since the US Marshals prided themselves on their secrecy, claiming that their methods were what had kept all their witnesses safe over so many years.

  Even an FBI agent wouldn’t be allowed to know her new name. Marc felt his chest tighten, silently admitting just how much he was going to miss her. More than he thought possible.

  Somehow, despite the way he’d hardened his heart after Jessica’s affair and subsequent death, a petite pregnant woman had managed to wiggle her way through the crusty outer shell.

  Making him feel emotions he thought were long dead and buried.

  SIXTEEN

  When Kari woke up, the room was still dark. She angled her head to check out the red numbers on the small alarm clock.

  It took a few seconds for the time to register. Barely five o’clock in the morning. Remembering Marc’s plan to get to the courthouse early, she dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.

  She emerged twenty minutes later, trying to push away the sick feeling of doom. Kari trusted Marc to keep her safe, but she also knew that once she’d testified, her life as she knew it would be over.