by Karen Reis
“These are nondisclosure forms,” he informed me in a cold voice. “You’re required to sign them.”
“What happens if I don’t?” I asked boldly.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You get arrested.”
I looked over at Douglass, who nodded her head. I reached for the stack and she handed me a pen. “What are these exactly?” I asked.
“They basically say that you are required by law to keep the identity of the man whom you knew as Sean Whalen a secret, and that you are in no way to further connect him to the man you saw in the Market,” Gonzales barked. “If you decide to reveal that information to anyone, you will spend the rest of your life in a Federal prison.”
I obeyed. There was nothing more I could do. But I read each document carefully, just in case. I didn’t want to accidentally sign some fake confession or something. When I finished signing the last nondisclosure form, I looked up and asked, “Does this mean that I’m free to go? Will I be able to see Sean?”
“We’ve corroborated your story; we know you have no connections with Sean’s old mob boss,” Douglass said cryptically. “However, you have a problem.”
I stared at her with wide eyes. What now?
“Sean told you his identity, and you told your stepmother, who remembers his name,” Douglass explained. “There are people from Sean’s past in Las Vegas right now trying to figure out where he was sent. If they find out that you and he were closer than just neighbors, they might go sniffing among your relatives for information, and they might learn from your stepmother that you were close to Sean. They could easily track you down, and from there all they’d have to do is hurt you until you tell them what they want to know, which that you know what he looks like, what kind of car he drives and his license plate.” Douglass leaned forward. “We could change all that about Sean, even move him on to another identity, but you would still be a target.” She placed a stack of papers down on the table in front of me. “These forms here enter you into the Witness Protection Program.”
I stared at Douglass dumbly for many seconds. “You’re kidding,” I said eventually.
Both Gonzales and Douglass shook their heads. “No,” Douglass said.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked.
“No,” Gonzales broke in roughly. “Sean’s continued safety is important to pending criminal suits against his former boss and his employees.”
“But you do have a choice,” Douglass interjected smoothly. “You can go in alone,” and then she glanced at Gonzales. “Or you can go in with Sean.”
My heart leaped. They were going to let me see him! They were going to let me be with him!
“But you need to know one little detail before you decide,” Douglass said slowly. “Sean’s old boss doesn’t have the death penalty. “The threat to Sean’s life will never end as long as his boss is breathing. Sean’s in the program for life. If you choose him, you stay in the program for life too. If you choose to go in alone, you would stay in until it has been deemed your usefulness as a target and/or hostage has been eliminated.”
I was silent for a long time, thinking about what I’d just been told. “What about my sisters?” I finally asked. “They’ll think I’ve been kidnapped and murdered. I don’t want them to go through that kind of anxiety and worry over me.”
“We’ll take care of any explanations to your family,” Douglass said. She didn’t offer an explanation as to how.
I let out a breath. “Can I ask you one last question?”
“Sure,” said Douglass.
“Is it normal for you to be offering to let me enter with Sean? Is it normal for us to get a choice since we’re not married or family?”
Douglass looked at Gonzales, who wore a mask of inscrutability. She smirked at him, and I couldn’t figure out why. “No, it’s not normal,” she said when it was clear that Gonzales wasn’t going to answer. “Under normal circumstances, you’d be whisked off to some remote part of the US and you’d never see or hear from Sean again.” She smiled. “But Gonzales here has a soft spot for romance.”
Really? I thought as I looked him over. He’d been nothing but gruff and rude and intimidating the whole time.
“Mostly we’re able to offer this to you because you’re pregnant with Sean’s child,” Douglass said. “You’ll have to get married to Sean though. As you said, you either have to be married or family to go into the Program together.”
I stared at Douglass with my mouth open. Married? I had to get married to Sean? Now?
“The offer is only good for the next few minutes. You don’t have long to think about this,” Douglass continued. “No matter what you decide, you’ll be leaving Washington State within the next ten hours and be on your way to a new life with a new identity. So you need to decide now what you want to do.” She looked at Gonzales critically. “If it was up to me, you’d be going alone.” She shrugged. “Rules are rules. Gonzales has a knack for bending them.”
I wonder now what I would have said in that moment if I were older, wiser, or maybe just more cynical. The fact was that I wasn’t older, wiser or cynical. I was young, inexperienced and pregnant. “I choose Sean,” I said in a shaky voice. “If that’s his choice too. But I want a chance to talk to him first.”
“I can’t offer you that. You either choose him or go alone.”
“Then I’ll choose him,” I said with exasperation. “As long as that’s his choice too.”
“Right then,” Gonzales said immediately, heading for the door. “You get her ready and I’ll go get what they’ll need to leave here together.”
“What do I sign?” I asked Douglass after Gonzales left, gesturing to the papers before me.
“You don’t sign anything yet,” Douglass said. She looked at the two-way mirror and made the ‘come over here’ sign, then turned to me. “Not till you’re married. The ceremony will take place here by a licensed official, of course.” There was a knock on the door and Douglass got up. “You’ve got ten minutes alone. Then we’ll have to get the ball rolling on this operation.”
Douglass opened the door and then there he suddenly was. Sean. I jumped to my feet at the sight of him, my horrid metal chair almost tipping over. I wanted to run to him, but I stood rooted to the floor; my legs wouldn’t work. I opened my mouth to speak, to cry out, to shout, but no sound would come out. Sean took slow steps towards me; he was looking me over just as I was taking him in. He looked good, but different. His eyes were a very light brown now. He had a full head of dark hair that needed a good trim. His beard was a shade lighter than this hair.
He wore cargo pants and a long sleeved, striped shirt with tennis shoes. The plugs in his ears were gone – I hadn’t noticed that before at the Market, and I stared at his ears as he came close enough to touch me, yet didn’t. The light in the room was bright, and as he stopped in front of me, staring down at me as I stared up at him, I could see tiny scars where the holes had been stitched shut. I wondered how they could close holes like that. They probably had to remove the skin from inside the hole and then sew it shut, so that the two pieces would grow back together. It sounded disgusting, but the end results didn’t look bad. Then again, his plugs had been very small.
They had been part of his personae, I realized. That wasn’t really him.
Douglass left and closed the door, giving us our promised privacy. “I told them about you,” Sean spoke first and quickly. “I swear I didn’t know I was going to get relocated.”
With all my heart, all I wanted to do was throw my arms around his neck and hug him until the end of time. But I couldn’t seem to get my brain in order. All I could do was answer inanely, “I know. Agent Douglass told me.”
“I wanted them to bring you in,” Sean said, still not touching me but obviously afraid that I could be mad at him. “I knew you weren’t safe out there, but they didn’t trust you. Or me. They thought you were involved. They wouldn’t listen.”
I nodded again, my whole body shaking from pe
nt up emotion and exhaustion. For the first time in my life, I understood the term, ‘my knees were knocking.’ I felt that if I didn’t sit down that moment, I would fall down.
So I sat down, hard. “I didn’t doubt you. And D-Douglass filled me in.”
Sean dragged Douglass’ vacant chair over so that he could sit near me, our knees almost touching. He still didn’t reach out to touch me, but he smiled at me. “I’m sorry about how things turned out. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt like this.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.” My eyes roved over his face. “You look so different.”
Sean gave me a small smile. “It’s part of my new personae. Beards are popular up here, and I was told to grow one. It helps me blend in.”
I figured that. I didn’t know what to say after that though, and I dropped my gaze, staring at my hands.
“I wish you had called out to me,” Sean said quietly. “Were you afraid of calling out to me?”
I nodded, still not looking at him.
“I thought I’d been found,” Sean explained. “I have a couple of agents who keep tabs on me, follow me around the city. I texted them, they called and told me to head towards my car. I took off without looking to see who they were arresting. If I had, I would have stopped them. Carrie, I’m sorry.”
I looked back up at him. He was staring at me expectantly, but the fact that he was right in front of me, after the trauma of loosing him as I had, was too much. I didn’t know how to react. My brain was still trying to catch up with my emotions.
I needed to try to make intelligent conversation, so I swallowed and gestured towards the mirror. “Were you watching me from over there?” I managed to get out.
Sean shook his head and smiled. “No. I was just recently transferred here from a safe house.” He paused. There was a sorrowful look in his light brown eyes. “I read what you said. I know you’re pregnant. I never meant to leave you alone. I’m truly sorry for that.” His eyes dropped to my stomach. “It’s kind of amazing though.” He reached out then as if to touch me, but he didn’t. His voice was filled with wonder as he said, “I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl?”
That statement, along with the look on his face, made me melt into tears. I covered my face with my hands and leaned forward till my hands touched my knees, and I just sobbed. I didn’t cry quietly. I actually sobbed. I couldn’t stop myself from making noise as I lost total control over myself. The fact was, deep down I had doubted Sean and his motives towards me ever since I had told Nancy about him. I had refused to believe it wholesale, but still, a little niggle of doubt had wormed its way into my heart and only then, as Sean made his feelings known, did I realize the burden that I had been carrying those four long months.
Sean wasn’t a liar. He wanted a family. He wanted a wife and a child. He wanted a life.
I wanted one too.
We did touch then, finally and to my relief. He reached for my hands and lifted my face up, and I saw the grief etched into his eyes. He pulled me up and into his lap and put his arms around me and held me while I cried. I felt so happy in that moment, but so scared too. I wrapped my arms around his neck and just held on. I had desperately missed the sensations of safety, warmth and love that came over me when Sean held me.
“Baby, it’s okay,” he murmured over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” His stroked my back and hair and kissed my forehead like he would a child. “I love you. It’s okay.”
My tears eventually dried up.
“It almost killed me, leaving you behind,” Sean whispered as he held on to me. “I had no way to contact you to let you know what was going on. I’m sorry I put you through that.” He paused, and then asked me with a conspiratorial air, “Did you get my spam?”
I looked at him with confusion, wiping my eyes. “Spam?”
“I sent you a bunch of spam on Seattle.” He shrugged. “It broke every rule in the book, but it was the only thing I could do.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “That was you? I got loads of that stuff every day! It was so annoying.”
There was a twinkle in his eye. “But you’re up here.” He held me to him more tightly. “I’m glad the subliminal messaging worked.”
I slapped his shoulder playfully and laughed. “I’ve missed this,” I said, then added soberly. “I’ve missed my friend. And I love you too.”
Sean shifted me on his lap so that he could look me squarely in the eye. “Are you okay with the whole marriage thing? It’s kind of fast.”
I looked into his light brown eyes and shiver went through me. I was used to different eyes gazing at me. “Are you okay with it?” I asked instead.
He nodded. “Very okay.” He placed a hand on my abdomen. “Very okay. I want you, Carrie. I’ve made that clear since the wedding shower. I want you. I love you.”
His words made my whole body shake, and he frowned, unsure of me suddenly. “I heard you tell Douglass that you chose me too. Was that the truth?”
I couldn’t speak. I was too overcome with emotion. I had never felt so happy and so terrified before. I needed to give Sean an answer though. He was in pain, waiting for me to speak. I raised my hands tentatively to his face and stroked his beard. It was soft. My fingers touched his earlobes, and then buried themselves in his hair. It smelled like soap.
“What color are your eyes?” I asked softly.
Sean’s never left mine. “This is their real color. I wore colored contacts before.”
I said nothing, continuing my inspection of him.
“I know it can’t be easy,” he whispered, as if he thought if he spoke too loudly he might scare me off. “To see me so different. But I am the same person. My feelings for you, the way I treated you – that was no act.”
I smiled and cupped his head in my hands. “I want you too,” I whispered back.
Sean opened his mouth so speak, but I stopped him by covering his with mine. His beard and mustache tickled my face, but I didn’t feel it after he began kissing me back. I was starved for him, and if it weren’t for that creepy two-way mirror, I probably would have let him have his way with me right then. But there was a good possibility we were being watched.
“Okay then,” I said, as I lay my head on his shoulder. I couldn’t keep a smile off my face. “We’re going to get married tonight.”
Sean smiled too. “We’re going to get married.”
“And live quietly,” I said, stroking the back of his head lovingly.
“And travel periodically,” Sean replied, shifting me to a more comfortable position on his lap.
“And get free makeovers,” I joked as my hands explored his shoulders and chest. “I’ve always wondered how I’d look as a blonde.”
“You’d look beautiful, just like you do now.”
We were silent for a moment, and then Sean said, “You won’t be able to take any of your stuff with you. That’s part of living this kind of life. You can’t be attached to anything physical.”
I nodded solemnly, and then smiled. “You’re physical.”
He kissed me then, because he was a man, and that’s what men do. Apparently by that time however our ten minutes were up, because Douglass stuck her head through the door and said, “Times up, guys. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Chapter 17
Sean and I said our vows in the FBI’s little interfaith chapel. It was a hole really, a storage room converted into a place of quiet contemplation, most likely, I assumed, for FBI agents who had just killed someone or lost their partner, or something to that extent. The chapel was not well lit and smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. There were folding chairs set up in rows before a little dais where a lectern stood. To one side of the dais there was a folding table where the Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Torah, and I was surprised to see, the Koran sat out for anyone to use if they so chose. A shelf with lit candles flickered on the other side of the dais for Catholics, I supposed, but other than those things, there were no pictures, no symbols and mor
e depressingly, no windows.
We were married by a little old interfaith minister who wore a black suit and tie and apparently had extremely high clearance. The whole thing would have been quite disappointing had I not been standing next to Sean and holding his hand, which gave me courage. Really, the best part of the ceremony was not the location, but the part near the end where I finally learned Sean’s real name: Andrew Quincy Szczepanski.
“That’s really ethnic,” I couldn’t help but say in the middle of Sean’s vow taking. “No wonder you were tapped to be in the mob. Was it the Polish mob?” Do the Polish even have a mob? I thought.
Douglass, our witness along with Gonzales, who both sat in the first row on opposite sides of the chapel, cleared her throat and shook her head at me in dismay. Those really weren’t the kind of comments I should ever make, she told me with her eyes. After that, I shut up and let the minister do his thing.
So, it was not my dream wedding. Not that I had spent much time thinking about having a dream wedding, but there are certain things that a girl does think about from time to time. Like getting married in a white dress. Having a cake. Dancing. Having everyone clap when the ceremony is over. None of that happened. To top it all off, I was dead tired. By the time the ceremony was over, it was long past midnight.
As we finished our vows and the minister pronounced us husband and wife, neither of our witnesses clapped. There was no cake, no music, no laughter. There was only a rush to sign the marriage certificate, and then we were hustled into Douglass’ office so that I could complete my entrance into the Witness Protection Program in relative comfort.
I didn’t feel married sitting there on Douglass’ couch with a clip board on my lap and a pen in my hand. I just felt rushed. Sean, I couldn’t think of him as anything else but Sean – he certainly wasn’t an Andrew to me – sat next to me silently, thinking God only knew what. I don’t even have a ring, I thought, staring at my left hand. Could you really be married if you didn’t even have a ring? Our wedding ceremony seemed like a dream. The only proof I had that it was real was in the documents on my lap, which stated that I was the spouse of a witness who had testified and might still have to testify in federal cases against his former mob boss and his employees.
