Reclaim My Life (29 page)

Ronda Lou left for Tallahassee at lunchtime, escaping both the approaching hurricane and the smoke. After breakfast, winds had kicked up, fanning the embers in the Sticky Swamp. No longer contained, the fire spread at numerous patches throughout the national forest. The firefighters regrouped, trying to protect property as much as they could until the hurricane brought in drenching rains. Unfortunately, the approaching storm also brought the fierce winds.

Foster County couldn’t seem to catch a break. After checking on his officers and dispatch, Wil retreated to his office. He opted for a vending machine lunch of peanuts and a root beer at his desk. He had a stack of phone calls to return, although returning calls during the lunch hour often consisted of leaving messages and playing telephone tag.

One message was from his brother, probably to talk about hurricane preparations. The phone rang just as he hung up from leaving a voice mail. “Sheriff Drake.”

“Sheriff Wilson Drake?”

“That’s right. How may I help you?”

“This is Special Agent Cory with the U.S. Marshals. I understand you spoke with Elizabeth Stevens about her situation.”

He’d been dreading this call since the moment he’d matched the name of yesterday’s caller with Elizabeth’s handler. “Yes, she brought me up to speed, but I’ve kept it confidential—”

“I need a favor.”

Wil assumed the WitSec guy had checked him out by now and decided to trust him. “Whatever I can do to help.”

“Unfortunately, she’s been compromised.”

Wil’s body tensed, and his heart hammered against his chest. The words he’d dreaded, yet expected, clenched his gut. “She’s in danger?”

“Yes. I need to get down there ASAP, but the Jacksonville Airport is closed because of that hurricane. I’ll probably drive, or fly partway. But the interstates will be clogged with evacuees from the coast. I won’t be in Drake Springs for at least two days.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her—”

“Can you keep her in protective custody until I arrive?”

“I can’t put her in jail—”

“Protective custody. Stash her in a safe house or something. But you need to stick with her. Don’t tell anyone where she is. Don’t trust anyone else with her safety.”

“Sure thing.” The safest house that came to mind was his own. “But can you give me some idea about the people after her, so I’ll know what to expect?”

“I wish I could. That’s the problem. We learned the identity of Sullivan’s contract killer, an assassin who calls himself Conger. He’s a cagey character. We’ve yet to learn his real identity or find a description of him. We just learned he’s been working out of your area for some time and may be one of your citizens. He’s good at blending. I know that isn’t much help.”

“We fished a twenty-two caliber pistol from the Suwannee River that was used here in a homicide. The FBI traced ownership back to a Morgan O’Hare. That’s a fictitious identity, and may not mean anything to your case. On the other hand, I have two homicide victims who closely resemble your witness.”

“I’ll check out Morgan O’Hare with the FBI. Do your best to keep our witness safe until I can get her relocated.”

…
until I can get her relocated
. A fisted punch in the gut would’ve hurt less than Cory’s words. Wil cleared the painful lump in his throat. “You can count on me.”

Special Agent Cory thanked him and ended the call, but Wil barely heard anything above the buzzing in his head. A clammy sweat dampened his skin. His breathing quickened. He had to get to Elizabeth without delay.

He couldn’t dwell on the fact that she’d be disappearing from his life. His number one priority was keeping her safe at all costs. If he failed, she’d die. If he succeeded, she’d be moved to another location, lost to him in a different way. Either way, the price would be enormous.

After their picnic lunch in the pickup, Elizabeth returned to campus and parked. The wind whipped litter across the asphalt parking lot. Although the sky was charcoal gray, not one drop of rain fell.

“Woo-hoo! Look who’s waiting for you, Liz.” Sunny elbowed her none too subtly.

Walking toward the classroom building, Elizabeth followed Sunny’s gaze. Wilson Drake stood straight and tall, like a sentinel guarding the building’s door, his feet apart and his arms folded across his chest. He wasn’t smiling.

“Hello, Sheriff Drake.” Elizabeth studied his face for a clue to his mood. He’d certainly been smiling when he left her house that morning.

“Professor Stevens.” He nodded. “I need a word in private.”

“This is where I leave. See you at six.” Sunny gave a little finger wave and walked away.

“Your afternoon class is canceled. You need to come with me.” The grim set of his jaw warned her not to contradict him.

“What’s the matter?”

He took her by the elbow and turned her toward the parking lot. “I got a call from Cory. You’ve been made.”

She gasped. “Who did you tell? Was it that profiler—”

He recoiled as if she’d slapped him, and dropped his hand from her arm. “Didn’t I promise not to tell a soul? I probably compromised the homicide investigations by keeping your secret.”

“I’m sorry, Wilson. I’m just upset.”

“I know you are.” He tugged at her elbow again to pick up the pace. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Did Cory say how—”

“He doesn’t know. I’ll tell you all about it at your place. You need to pack a few clothes and toiletries—”

“I know the drill.” She blinked back tears that threatened to spill. Now wasn’t the time for weakness. “He’s relocating me again.”

They’d reached her truck. He placed his hands on her upper arms, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Not yet. As of now, you’re in protective custody. My protective custody.”

He followed her to her house and parked behind her in the driveway. He went inside ahead of her, his gun drawn. Her insides quaked. The seafood salad she’d had for lunch formed a hard ball in her stomach. She forced her rubbery legs to walk. She’d tried to prepare herself for this eventuality a thousand times. But nothing could have readied her for the onslaught of emotions that now besieged her.

How could she have allowed herself to fall in love? She snorted at the thought.
Allowed
herself? That was a joke. No matter how she’d resisted, she’d never stood a chance of escaping with her heart. Sometimes love happened no matter what life threw in the way.

“All clear.” He holstered his gun and drew her into the house.

“I guess I won’t be having that alarm system installed after all.” She stepped inside, scanning for any signs of an intruder. Everything looked the same as she’d left it that morning. “I’ll pack my things, but let me check my voice mail first.”

“Avoid the windows.” With that, Wilson went from room to room closing blinds and pulling drapes.

As expected, she had a call from Cory. He’d left a vague message saying that he’d talked with Sheriff Drake. “Don’t call me from your house.” That ominous message sent a frisson of fear through her body. Her line might be tapped or her house bugged. If so, how long had someone been listening in on her? Would last night’s lovemaking be on someone’s digital recorder? Had they heard all that she’d told Wilson about WitSec?

She’d lost her home, her haven. Her privacy. She nearly screamed in frustration. “Ugh! I want my friggin’ life back!”

Wilson gave her a sympathetic nod. “While you pack, I’m going outside to close your hurricane shutters.”

“Please hurry. I don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

“I’m in as much of a rush as you are, sweetheart.” He disappeared, leaving her to pack.

Now wasn’t the time to lose focus. She steeled herself for what had to be done. Moving like an automaton into her bedroom, she pulled out a nylon duffel bag. Except for a few T-shirts and jeans, she stuffed it mostly with underwear and socks. Her monochrome wardrobe, which had kept her nondescript for a year, no longer served her. She left her pants suits hanging in the closet. Now she’d have to reinvent her appearance. Maybe she’d dye her hair auburn. Or white.

She bit back a sob.
Be strong, Elizabeth
. Or what name would she be given in her next life?
Judith? Deborah?
She’d know soon enough when she talked to Cory. Changing out of her beige slacks and shirt, she tossed them into the clothes hamper for someone else to wash. Someone else would be living in her house. WitSec would do whatever they did best to arrange the sale of the property and help her find another place to live. Next time she wouldn’t bother with a house. Just a studio apartment.

With each shutter Wilson closed, darkness closed in on her, forcing her to turn on a lamp. The shutters offered protection from hurricane winds, but they also shut out any peeping hit man. She dressed in khaki shorts and a dull plaid camp shirt, then laced her athletic shoes. Ready to leave, she stood and surveyed the room one last time.

Wilson came to the bedroom door. “Anything I can help you pack?”

She grabbed her duffel. “Everything I can take is in here. I can’t even take my movie collection.”

“I could hang onto it for you.”

“Wilson.” She shook her head. “Take my DVD collection. It’s yours. We both know I can’t come back.”

His face twisted into an anguished frown. “Don’t say that—”

“You can’t live in limbo, waiting for something that may not happen.” She loved him too much for him to put his life on hold.

“I will wait for you. Don’t doubt it.”

What if Sullivan succeeded? What if she didn’t survive his contract killer? “But—”

“Let’s get out of here. We can discuss this later.”

“Where are we going? And what about dinner at Sunny’s?”

“We’re going to park your truck behind the station out of sight. Then I’m keeping you with me wherever I go. Understand?”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, but it sounded forced even to her own ears. “I’m scared spitless. I’m sticking so close to you you’d better not make any sudden stops or I’ll run smack into your back.”

“I don’t want anyone to know where you’re staying, not even Sunny. Got it?”

“Got it.” She’d stayed alive so far by trusting no one—except Wilson. She wasn’t going to take chances now. “Where
are
we staying?”

“A safe house.” He opened the door to the carport.

“Wait. If you’re saying we’re riding out this hurricane together in a secret location, let’s take all the canned goods and jugs of water I stocked in my pantry.”

“Okay. We’ll load everything into the Jeep, but we need to hurry.”

Wil had Elizabeth drive ahead of him. He didn’t want her out of his sight. He’d told her to drive straight up Park Street to Coronado then pull into the sheriff’s office parking lot behind the building. Even though it was early afternoon, they both drove with headlights because of the growing darkness. She parked and waited for Wil before exiting her vehicle. Smart lady.

He showed her into his office via the private entrance. “Sit here. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded. Her drooping posture and sad eyes said more than words to describe her state of mind. He headed for Zelda’s desk, where she stood with a steaming Styrofoam cup. “Is that coffee fresh?”

“Just finished brewing.”

“Find Fred for me while I grab a cup.” He went into the break room and filled two cups with coffee. He stuffed Mini Moo’s and sugar packets into his shirt pocket, then headed toward his office.

Fred met him at the door. “You looking for me?”

“Yes. Grab a cup, and step inside my office.”

But Fred shook his head. “I’ve had enough coffee today. Between the caffeine and the smoke, I’m flirting with a headache.”

“I couldn’t tell if the darkness was from the clouds or the smoke.”

“Probably both.”

Entering his office, Wil handed Elizabeth one of the coffees and then scooted behind his desk to sit. He didn’t have another chair to offer Fred, but what he had to say wouldn’t take long. “Elizabeth Stevens, this is Chief Deputy Fischer. Professor Stevens teaches English at the college, Fred.”

Fred shook hands with her, then turned to Wil. “What’s up?”

He fished the creamers and sugar packets from his pocket, then tossed them onto the desk within Elizabeth’s reach. “I’m taking some personal time away from the office. It has to do with Dad and the hurricane—”

“No need to explain, Wil. You haven’t taken so much as an hour off since you took office. If you need to leave, I’ll see to things here.”

“I appreciate that. You’re in charge. I’ll have my cell phone. When the hurricane hits, we’ll probably lose the towers, though.”

“More ‘n likely. Don’t worry. We’ve been over this disaster plan. Each of us knows what to do.” Fred didn’t ask him to explain Elizabeth’s presence, and Wil didn’t offer. “Do you need me to work with FDLE on the homicide investigations?”

Elizabeth peeled open a Mini Moo to pour into her coffee. She didn’t look up, but Wil caught the tension in her shoulders at the mention of the homicides.

“Everything’s on hold until the storm passes. Special Agent Buckner’s gone back to Tallahassee.”

“I hope she made it to the interstate before the traffic jam. Amelia Island and up the coast to Tybee Island are being evacuated.”