Outcast (27 page)

Pat smiled. “We're having a baby.”

Betty was moved to tears. She clasped her hands to both sides of her daughter-in-law's face. “I am so happy for the both of you.”

As the attention shifted to Pat and Kevin's good news Tirrell grunted, attempting to raise his leg again.

Betty turned to him. “Tirrell, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired.”

“We should clear out of here and let you rest,” Kevin suggested.

“Kevin, isn't there something you needed to say to Tirrell?”

Kevin cleared his throat and stepped over to the side of the bed. He teared up as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a medal his grandfather had been awarded, and pinned it to Tirrell's T-shirt.

“What's this?” Tirrell asked.

“It's the medal Granddaddy was given for bravery when he was in Vietnam,” Kevin responded. “I meant to bring this to you sooner, but I had a hard time finding it. You saved my life and I couldn't think of a better way to let you know how grateful I am, except to give you this. You earned it. You earned my respect, too, man.”

Tears streamed down Betty's face watching the two. Kevin reached out and shook Tirrell's hand.

“What? No hug? No kiss?” Tirrell smirked.

“I'm never gonna forget what you did for me,” Kevin continued.

“Don't worry,” Tirrell said soberly. “I'm not ever gonna let you.”

“We're family, right?” Kevin allowed. “Brothers.”

“Brothers,” Tirrell repeated.

Kevin's acknowledgement was bittersweet and more rewarding than anything Tirrell could have ever asked for. In that moment he didn't feel like an outsider looking in. For the first time in his life he had the family he'd always wanted. The family he'd almost given his life to deserve.

It had been some months since Alexandra Solomon had completed the evaluations and counseling sessions mandated by the witness protection program, and another spring had settled in. Her new identity notwithstanding, she longed for the life she'd abandoned: her important clients, the expensive clothes, the extravagant parties. Try as she might she couldn't reconcile the fact that it was a life she could never go back to. She turned and studied her reflection in the mirror mounted on the bedroom wall. Her appearance was much changed. Her hair had grown out and was no longer the pixie coif she'd been identified with. The figure that commanded the attention of men whenever she entered a room had been stretched beyond the point of recognition. She thought about Tirrell. Sitting down on the side of the bed she picked up the phone for what seemed the hundredth time in as many days and dialed his number. She hung up before completing the call. “What the hell am I doing?” She knew the rules and yet felt compelled to reach out to him. She held her breath, picked up the phone, and dialed again.

“Hello.”

Hearing his voice caused her heart to skip. She swallowed back the dryness of her tongue and exhaled slowly through her nose.

“Hello.”

Her mouth opened to form the words and she slammed down the receiver. She stood, moved to the window, and stared out over the quiet California community where she and her mother had been stashed. Rubbing her hands over her protruding baby bump she resolved that he would never know. She was prepared to take that secret to her grave.

 

 

The End

At the sound of a crackling rumble of thunder, Alex threw back the comforter and sprang out of bed. She cautiously pulled the curtain back to see that the wind was blowing a tree branch against the house. A streak of lightening flashed across the sky and illuminated what she thought to be a man watching her from the other side of the street. Was it the same man she'd seen the day before?

A muffled scream clung to the back of her throat as she jerked away from the window and darted to the nightstand next to her bed to retrieve her .380 semiautomatic. It was against the program's policy for her to have a gun in her possession, but she was not about to leave her life completely to chance or in anyone's hands but her own. Whatever she'd seen was gone when she moved back to the window to get another look. The telephone rang and startled her. She hesitated to answer, but decided she was being silly and needed to before the noise woke her mother.

“Hello.”

“Hey, it's me. I just got your message. Is everything all right?”

Alex peered back toward the window. “Yes . . . uh . . . I mean, no. I think I just saw someone outside.”

“You think?”

“I can't be sure, but it looked like someone was watching the house.”

“The same man you told me about?”

“I don't know. Maybe.”

“Are all the doors and windows locked?”

“Yes.”

“Is the alarm set?”

“Yes, it's armed.”

“I'm on my way. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't open the door to anyone but me. Understand?”

“John, you don't have to—”

“Yes, I do. I'm on my way.”

Alex hung up the telephone and held the gun close to her breast. Damsel in distress was not a role she fit comfortably into, but she had to admit she was glad to have a man like John Chase to watch out for her.

Without turning on the light she picked up her terrycloth bathrobe from the foot of the bed, slid into it, and crept slowly across the carpeted floor. She opened the bedroom door and looked up the dark hallway, first one way and then the other, just to satisfy herself that no danger was lurking. She tiptoed from her room to a room directly across the hall. The glow of the nightlight illuminated the pastel clouds and chubby-cheeked angels plastered on the walls surrounding her baby's crib, as if somehow the notion of the inanimate wallpaper was protection enough.

Alex inched closer. She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched her baby sleeping. She leaned in and readjusted the soft white blanket covering her and caressed the girl's face.

“Alexandra.”

Alex jumped nervously and spun around, aiming the gun in her hand at her mother, Jamilah.

The woman shrieked. “Oh, for the love of God.”

“Don't sneak up on me like that.”

The woman caught her breath. “You know I can't stand those things. Please, put it away.”

Alex relaxed and lowered the gun. “I'm sorry. It was raining so hard. I thought I heard something. I just wanted to check on the baby.”

“With a gun?”

“I needed to be sure.”

“Did you call John?”

“He called me. He's on his way over.”

Jamilah sidled up beside the crib and peered inside. “This precious angel can sleep through just about anything. She reminds me so much of you when you were a baby.”

“I'm not a baby anymore, and I'm definitely not sleeping so well at all these days.”

Alex kissed her daughter's forehead and turned to leave the room—her mother followed. The girl made a cooing noise and wriggled a bit but didn't wake. Alex put the gun back in its hiding place and proceeded into the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of Grey Goose vodka from the freezer, and filled a glass with ice.

“Would you like a drink?”

The woman waved her hand and shook her head.

“What woke you besides the storm,
Omolola?
”

“Don't you mean
Adriane?
”

Her mother's expression soured and she grimaced. “I don't care what name the government gives you, you will always be my
Omolola.
” Jamilah brushed her hand over her lush, peppery mane and took a seat at the kitchen table.

“I want this nightmare to be over,” Alex continued. “I want to stop seeing Xavier Rivera in every shadow.”

Harkening back to her previous life, she supposed this existence was justifiable recompense for how she and her former associates made others feel when threatened: anxious, scared, and constantly on edge.

“You think vodka will help you sleep?” Jamilah asked.

“It sure as hell couldn't hurt.”

“
Omolola,
I'm worried about you.”

“You don't need to. I'm fine, Mama. Go back to bed.”

“Now, how are you going to tell me not to worry? You're not eating. You're not sleeping. I'm going to worry about you as much as you worry about your own child. I just wish I could make this better for you somehow.”

“Mama, you've done everything you could possibly do. You gave up your entire life because of me. It's my fault you had to sacrifice so much.”

Jamilah stood and went to Alex. She put her arms around her and gave her a big squeeze. “Don't take this all on yourself. It was my decision to come with you. And they're going to find that man, you'll see. We're going to be all right, Alexandra. We have John here to look after us.”

“Yes, but for how long? He's got his own life. He's got other cases.”

“He's going to be here for as long as we need him. Besides, I have a feeling that man likes you.”

“Mama.” Alex pulled away, nearly blushing. “What would make you say something like that?”

“I see the way he's been looking at you. It may have been awhile, but I can still tell when a man feels something for a woman.”

Alex pondered her mother's words as she savored the alcohol in her glass. “He's just doing a job, and that job does not include having a relationship with the woman he's supposed to be protecting.”

“Uh huh.” Jamilah smirked. “I think I will have that nightcap after all.” She pulled a glass from the cupboard. “John Chase is a man, and that's all I need to know.”

Alex grabbed the bottle and sat down at the table. “Romance is the last thing I need to be thinking about right now; especially with someone like him. I don't have the best track record when it comes to relationships.”

Her mother joined her. “Tirrell Ellis is nothing like John Chase, in case you hadn't noticed. Neither was Raymond for that matter.”

The doorbell rang and both women gasped and froze in mid-thought. Jamilah clutched the top of her blue satin robe close around her neck and started to get up. Alex reached out her hand to stop her and went ahead of her. She leaned into to the peephole, but it was too obscured to make anything out.

“Adriane,” the mellow baritone called out. “It's John.”

Alex disarmed the alarm and threw open the door as fast as she could unlock it. The presence of the solid, good-looking, 220-pound, six-foot-two-inch inspector was reassuring. His confidence was one of the things she found most appealing about him. She'd consistently been drawn to that attribute in a man. Her husband was like that; so was Tirrell, at least, in the beginning.

“What have I told you about opening the door without first making sure you know who it is?” the man chided.

“You don't think I recognize your voice after all this time?” Alex repressed the urge to smile.

Despite himself, John smiled. He looked over her shoulder and nodded to Jamilah. “Is everybody all right in here?”

“We're fine,” Jamilah assured him.

“I checked around the grounds,” John continued. “I didn't find anything out of the ordinary.”

Alex moved away from the door and allowed him to enter. He stomped his wet shoes on the mat outside before stepping in. Jamilah hurried to the counter and grabbed a handful of paper towels to give to him.

“Thank you.” John took the towels and wiped his brow and clean-shaven head.

“Inspector, can I fix you a drink?” Jamilah offered.

“No, I'm fine.” He turned his attention to Alex. “Could you make out anything about the man you saw outside?”

“I'm not even sure there was a man,” Alex admitted. “It may have been just my imagination playing tricks on me.”

“Alexandra,” Jamilah injected, “you didn't tell me you saw someone outside.”

“Because I'm not even sure I saw anything at all.”

“Whatever it was it scared you enough to call John over here.”

Alex rubbed her eyes and moved to the kitchen table for her glass. “John, it really wasn't necessary for you to come over here in the middle of the night like this. I'm sorry I dragged you out of bed or whatever.”

“You didn't drag me anywhere. I wasn't asleep. You, your mother, and your little girl are my prime concern right now. Until we get Rivera we don't know who's out there who could be after you, so we need to be vigilant. And that includes you all getting used to calling each other by your new names, even when you think you're alone and no one can hear you.”

“I know,” Alex agreed.

“I just hate being called Janette,” Jamilah complained.

“You're gonna have to,” John insisted. “If I'm gonna do my job effectively, you have to play your parts in all of this. Otherwise, we may as well lead you right to the slaughter. Xavier Rivera is going to do everything in his power to find you and keep you from testifying. I've gotta do everything I can to keep you safe.”

Jamilah interpreted the look that passed between her daughter and the stalwart inspector and smiled as she poured more vodka into her glass and pretended to yawn. “Well, if you two will excuse me, I believe
Miss Janette
is finally ready to get back to bed.”

“Good night, ma'am.”

Alex left the kitchen and returned with a bigger, more suitable bath towel from the linen closet in the hall. “Here. Give me your jacket and you take this.”

John peeled off the wet rain slicker, exchanged it for the dry towel, and sat down.

Alex took the raincoat, hung it on a doorknob, and watched him as he rubbed and patted the moisture from his face, arms, and neck. “Are you sure I can't fix you something to drink?”

“I'll take a cup of coffee if it's not too much trouble.”

Alex pulled a filter from the cupboard and filled the coffee pot with water. She felt his eyes watching her from behind and shook her head.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Do you think it's going to be like this forever?”

“What do you mean?”

She turned around, pulling the tie on her robe tighter, and walked over to the table to sit down. She picked up her glass and swirled the remnants of ice with her index finger. “I'm not used to being the one who's afraid all the time. I'm used to having a certain amount of control over my life. I hate that I've allowed myself to be put in a situation for it to be taken away. I can't get over the fact that even when they catch Xavier, I still may not be able to go back to the way things were.”

John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs with the towel draped around his neck, rubbing his hands together. “Look, I know you're scared. It's all right. We've taken every precaution to protect you.”

“Do those precautions include you sticking around after he's caught?”

They looked into each other's eyes. The concentration in his gaze caused her to blink and look away. She tossed back the watered-down remains in her glass and went to the counter.

“I think the coffee is ready. Cream and two sugars, right?”

John cleared his throat and sat back in the chair. “Right.”

Alex poured two cups of coffee and returned to the table. Their eyes darted nervously as they gingerly sipped the hot brew. Neither seemed to want to be caught looking at the other.

“I didn't mean to imply anything by what I said,” Alex confessed. “Blame the vodka.”

“I think I've heard that song before,” John quipped.

Their mutual laughter masked the growing tension.

“I guess this is my lame attempt at getting to know a little more about you after all these months. I mean you've got this huge file with every sordid detail of my life since the day I lost my first tooth.”

John put his cup down on the table. “There's not a whole lot you need to know about me.”

“Why not? You're not married, are you?”

He averted his gaze.

Alex's eyes widened with surprise, given all this time she never thought that he might be. “Oh, wow. You are, aren't you? Damn, I must really be slipping. I used to be able to smell a married man from across the room—even if he didn't wear a ring.” She looked at his hand as he absently rubbed the finger where a wedding band had been.

“For the record I'm separated.”

“Separated as in different living arrangements, or separated as in ‘we've got our problems but we still sleep together'?”

“It's complicated.”

“Isn't it always?” Alex stood up and walked into the adjoining living room. “I can't believe I . . . You know what, it's late. You should probably go home. We'll be okay.”

John followed. “I wasn't trying to upset you. I just didn't think my personal life was relevant.”