Читать книгу Cowboy Protector - Margaret Daley - Страница 12

Scrabbling for a safe answer to his loaded question, Hannah swallowed hard but kept her gaze trained on Austin, sitting behind his desk in his office. She wished she could share her past with someone because there were days the pain of loss beat her down, but that would be a foolish, dangerous move on her part. “No. I love what I do. My job is important to me.” Helping others was what kept her going on those days when thoughts of her past threatened to overwhelm her.

He nodded. “Do you have any questions about the job? About Misty?”

“She’s adorable, and I think I can help her.” The child was hurting physically, and emotionally, too. Although her mom was still alive, Hannah could identify with losing a mother.

“Then I’ll have an answer soon for you.” He stood, snatching up his set of keys. “A storm is moving in, and I want to make sure I get you back in time for your bus.”

Pushing to her feet, she started to tell him she could stay another hour and still get back before the bus to Billings left. She would like to spend some more time with Misty, but she was being dismissed. When she got back to Billings, she needed to look seriously for another job.

Later that night when Hannah finally fell into bed, sleep came quickly but so did the dream. Back in her rental house as if two years hadn’t happened, Hannah heard the crashing sound of glass breaking. The noise of footsteps.

They’ve found me!

The words screamed through Hannah’s mind, wrenching her from the nightmare that gripped her. Her eyes flew open, her limbs all tangled in something confining. Her thoughts jumbled, she fought for release. Frantic, she rolled, trying to get away.

The breath-jarring impact with her bedroom carpet totally woke her up. Her sheet held her prisoner in its snarled mess. Lying next to her bed, she shifted until she faced the ceiling and saw the lights from outside her apartment dancing on its spackled surface.

Drawing in deep gulps of air to calm her racing heartbeat, she tried to reassure herself that her nightmare hadn’t been real—at least not the part about her being tackled by some unknown assailant. But the break-in two years ago had been very real. Real enough for her to flee the town where the Witness Protection Program had settled her, and when her time to report in with the U.S. Marshals had come last year, she’d let it pass without calling. She didn’t know if the break-in had anything to do with her being in the program or not. She hadn’t waited around to discover the truth because if it had been connected she would be dead by now.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position. Slowly the thundering of her heart eased. But as she scanned the dark recesses of her room, she could imagine some henchman lurking in one of them, waiting to pounce. A shiver chilled her. She dragged the tangled sheet about her shoulders and huddled under its warmth, wishing she didn’t have such a vivid imagination.

She didn’t have this nightmare much except when she planned to move to another location and for maybe the first week in the new place. But the trip yesterday to Bitterroot Valley and the Triple T Ranch had stirred up all her fears. Once she was settled she’d be okay—that was if Austin Taylor decided to hire her.

She had her doubts after the last meeting in his office and the silent trip back to Sweet Creek and the bus depot.

When he’d asked her if she had anything to hide, she’d hated lying to him, but how was she supposed to tell him that she had some evil people after her who would love to know where she was? Thankfully the nearly two years she’d been on her own without the Witness Protection Program, Devon Madison’s goons hadn’t found her because she was very careful. Staying in one place for three years could have possibly led someone to her front door. The key was constantly moving every few months, changing her name a couple of times, using cash and not leaving a paper trail in any name.

Finally rising, she shed her sheet and donned her lime-green terry-cloth robe. She needed coffee then a shower. She still had a job at Saul Peterson’s. He’d told her to stay until she found another one. But she couldn’t stay too long even if she didn’t get a job right away. She had some money saved, if need be.

After fixing a pot of coffee and pouring a mug full, she parted the drapes in her living room overlooking the street in front of her apartment building. Only a few inches, but enough she could check out the area. She often found herself doing this when she was home, a habit she’d picked up early in the Witness Protection Program. One she wasn’t going to give up even if she felt secure in her new identity.

She usually peered up and down the road, searching for any car parked that didn’t belong. When she discovered one, she would note its tag number, description and keep tabs on it. She’d moved once in the middle of the night when a vehicle kept appearing out in front of her place. Discreet questions with her neighbors had left her puzzled with who was the owner of the Chevy. Later, she’d discovered quite by accident it was a man having a secret affair with a neighbor. That incident had reinforced her need not to panic, to use a clear-thinking judgment. Panic could lead to a mistake and, according to the man who’d helped her with her new identity in the beginning, could get her killed.

A sigh escaped her parted lips when she saw an empty street, except for a truck that traveled toward the east. The sky brightened to a rosy hue, splashing an array of colors from a pale baby blue to a lemon yellow. Time to get ready for work.

Taking several sips of her coffee, she surveyed the road one last time. A black Ford SUV drove around the corner and onto her street. It slowed and pulled into a spot across from her building. No one got out. She stepped back and farther to the side, then inched the curtains apart.

When ten minutes passed, she started to reach for her pad to write down the tag number, but a young woman came jogging down the sidewalk from the apartments across the street and slid into the passenger side of the SUV. It sped away.

Hannah collapsed against the back of the chair behind her, still clasping her mug between her hands. Would this constant fear ever go away? Probably not.

In her mind she truly believed that she was safe, but in her heart she couldn’t quite shake her gut reaction to different situations—like an unknown vehicle on her street. She had to continue to work on that, or she would never have any kind of life. Any kind of peace.

Hannah got off the bus in front of Mama’s Diner and hurried inside. She headed to a booth in the back near an exit and slipped onto the black vinyl cushion, worn in spots. Being a little late, she noticed the morning crowd was thinning. Her usual waitress gave her a smile, finished pouring some coffee for one of her customers, and then threaded her way through the maze of tables to Hannah.

“I thought maybe you’d taken a new job and had left Billings,” Olivia Jarrod said as she set a mug on the table and filled it.

“I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” Olivia was the closest person to a friend she’d had in a long, long time. From the beginning two months ago when Hannah had come into the diner for breakfast before going to Saul Peterson’s around the corner, they had hit it off. It had been Olivia’s first day on the job, and she’d been nervous, making a lot of mistakes. A few customers hadn’t had much patience, but Hannah saw a person in need of a kind word. From that point on, she’d always sat in Olivia’s area, and her friend had sometimes been able to join her for a cup of coffee if the crowd wasn’t large. She’d miss Olivia. There was a connection with Olivia she couldn’t explain.

Her hands still cold from a north wind bringing frigid weather, Hannah wrapped them around the navy-blue ceramic cup. “Ah, this feels good. It’s cold out there.”

“Yeah, I’ve felt it every time the door has opened.” Her friend looked around. “I’m due a break. I’ll join you for a few minutes while you eat. Your usual?”

“Of course. I hate change and what I eat for breakfast I can control.” So little else was totally in her control.

“Be back in a minute then.”

As Olivia made her way to the counter, she stopped and gave her last customer his check, then she proceeded to the kitchen. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail while her blue eyes always held a touch of regret. That look of vulnerability spoke to Hannah on a level that prompted her to tell Olivia her story. She couldn’t, of course, but the words had been on the tip of her tongue several times in the past couple of weeks when she realized she would have to move on soon.

“You look lost in thought.” Olivia placed before Hannah a plate with one egg over easy and some whole-wheat toast with honey on the side. “And those thoughts are sad ones.”

She smiled. “Who me? I’m heading off to a new adventure soon.”

Olivia slid into the seat across from her. “I don’t know how you do it. Picking up and going someplace new every few months. You seem to thrive on change whereas I don’t.”

She wished that really were the case. Hannah studied that sadness that gently etched her friend’s features with pain. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes, or why would you do it? You could stay in one place. There’s a need for experienced home health care providers in Billings.”

To stay alive, Hannah wanted to confide to Olivia. “What’s changing for you?”

Her friend bent forward, peering at the near-empty tables around them. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’ve never mentioned a man in your life. Is there a husband? Boyfriend?”

That pain magnified Olivia’s gaze even more. “I haven’t spoken to my husband in months and he doesn’t even…” Tears glistened in her eyes, making the powder-blue color stand out more.

“Know that you’re having a baby?”

Olivia nodded.

“Is it his?”

Her friend bit her lower lip, a tear leaking out and running down her pale cheek. Again she gave a nod.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Why haven’t you told him?”

“I can’t contact him. I can’t…” Her words came to a spattering halt. Fear chased away the pain for a few seconds. She quickly darted a look around the diner. “My husband didn’t want a child.”

Hannah straightened, all thoughts of her now-cool egg fleeing. “Did he abuse you? Are you running away from him?” She held her breath almost afraid of the answers.

“No, he never hurt me like that. He wouldn’t. He isn’t that kind of man.” She peered toward the customers still in the diner. “I’m gonna move, too. I want to settle in a smaller town before the baby comes. I love children and hope I can do something with them. I’d rather do something other than be a waitress. I’d better get back to work.” Olivia slid to the end of the booth and started to stand.

Hannah laid her hand over hers. “Don’t leave just yet. I think you need a friend right now. Let me be that person. Where are you from?”

“Chicago.”

“Does he have any idea where you are?”

Olivia shook her head.

“And you can’t give him a call?”

“I won’t force him into a life he doesn’t want.”

Hannah wanted so badly to help Olivia as best she could, to be a friend because she had so few since her plight five years ago. “It sounds like you still love him.”

Her tears swimming in her eyes, Olivia bowed her head. “Yes, but it’s too late for us.” She lifted her gaze to Hannah’s. “It’s best this way. I live my life and he lives his.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s irrelevant.”

Hannah could identify with that. Nothing she wanted was possible for her now.

Olivia rose. “I’m moving on to a new adventure as a wise woman once said to me.” A smile peeked through the sadness. “I won’t forget you. Who knows? Maybe one day we’ll run into each other.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Hannah wouldn’t ask Olivia where she was going, and she wouldn’t tell her friend where she was going. But before Olivia walked away, Hannah added, “You take care of yourself and your baby. I know you believe in the Lord.”

“Yes.”

“Then believe He’ll take care of you.” And Hannah prayed that were the case although in her own situation she had her doubts. She’d believed once, but now she felt abandoned, left like the Israelites when they’d wandered for years in the desert.

After Olivia returned to her waitress duties, Hannah quickly ate her cold egg and toast, got a refill on her coffee to go, then paid her check and left before she confessed why she moved around a lot. She hurried around the corner to Saul’s apartment and let herself in. The older gentleman sat in the living room with his coffee on the end table next to his lounge chair.

He dropped the newspaper he was reading, shaking his head. “It’s just not safe anymore. They still haven’t discovered who killed those three young women. Such a shame. I wish they would assign the story to Violet Kramer. She’d get to the bottom of everything. I’ve been impressed with her reporting lately in my hometown paper. But I guess there’s nothing this old bag of bones can do to change anything, especially since little information is being given out about the murders.” Saul folded the Missoula Daily News into a neat pile, then stuffed it in the trash can by his side.

Hannah shrugged out of her heavy overcoat and hung it up in the hall closet before sitting on the couch across from him. She’d heard Saul grumbling every time a murder went unexplained. He was a big mystery buff and wanted to solve each case. “I’ve read that the police like to hold back clues to help them apprehend the killer. That’s probably why we aren’t getting much on the crimes.” Personally she’d had her fill of anything having to do with murders.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” He beamed with a grin. “Your interview yesterday must have gone great. Austin called this morning when he couldn’t reach you at your apartment. He figured you were here working. He wants you to call him.” Saul dug in his shirt pocket and withdrew a slip of paper. “This is his cell number. He told me you could reach him anywhere with that. I hope it’s good news. I tried my best to convince him and Caroline you would be perfect for the job.”

“Thanks.” Hannah rose, took the note and retrieved her purse on the table in the hallway to get her cell.

Staying in the foyer, her back to Saul, she punched in the numbers and waited, hoping it was good news. She needed to leave Billings soon. She’d been here too long. When Austin Taylor answered, she said, “This is Hannah Williams.”

“Glad you called. I’d like you to start as soon as you can. You indicated you didn’t have to give Saul a two-week notice. Is that correct?”

So formal sounding for a man who didn’t stand on formalities. “No, he’s fine with me leaving when I have to.”

“Good. When can you get here?”

“Mr. Taylor—”

“Austin, please.”

“I can come tomorrow, the same time as yesterday.”

A sigh sounded. “I was hoping you would say that. Misty told me last night she wants you to live here. You made quite an impression on my daughter and grandmother.”

But what was left unsaid and very clear to Hannah was that she hadn’t on Austin. “I enjoyed my visit with Misty. You have a special little girl.”

“Yes, I know and I almost lost her.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll pick you up at the bus station tomorrow then. If there is a change in plans, let me know. I carry this cell on me at all times.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” Hannah stashed her phone back into her purse and turned toward the living room.

“Today’s your last day?”

Hannah nodded, hating to leave Saul. She’d become close to him. He reminded her of her grandfather, another loved one she could never see again. It was becoming harder and harder living this charade she called her life. She wanted her mother, brother, her whole family back. She wanted a family of her own. Perhaps for a while she could pretend while at the Triple T Ranch.

Hannah folded her last piece of clothing, put the sweater into her suitcase and closed it. Making a walk through her apartment, she couldn’t find anything she’d left behind. The place already looked deserted as the other nine she’d abandoned in the past two years. This was her life now. She lived a hit-and-run existence, and there was nothing she could do about it.

The day she’d witnessed a man murder another person was the day everything changed. The shock of discovering Cullen Madison, her employer’s brother and her frequent date, wasn’t whom she thought he was had worn off years ago, but not the feeling that she should have known something wasn’t quite right, that Cullen’s business had been a front for selling arms illegally. She’d been caught up in the glamour and thrill that a handsome, rich man was interested in her. At least her testimony at his trial had put away a man the feds had wanted for a long time.

She set the soft bag on top of the bigger suitcase with rollers, pulled it to the front door and took one last look at her home for a brief time. Sadness that all she owned was with her shook her composure. Not much to account for in her thirty years but it was easy to move quickly.

Downstairs, she exited her building and scanned the area. The black SUV was parked across the street. A man sat waiting for the young woman. Impatience stamped his features. Hannah grinned and hurried her pace toward the waiting cab.

She gave the driver an address of a building near the bus depot. As the taxi turned the corner at the end of her street, she glanced back and noticed the black SUV was gone. Hopefully the woman hadn’t kept him waiting too long. The thought of the two made her wonder if they were dating or just friends. She’d had few friends since she’d shed the name Jen Davis, and she certainly hadn’t dated. Once when she’d still been under the U.S. Marshals’ protection she’d been considering going out with a man she’d met at work. Then her life fell apart for the second time, and she’d been on the run ever since.

She tried to relax, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t until she had arrived at her next destination. As was her habit, she kept an eye on the traffic around the cab. Nothing out of place until the driver was a few blocks from her drop-off. That was when she spotted a black SUV just like the one in front of her apartment tucked behind a vehicle three cars back. Every nerve ending pinged to sharp awareness.

Clutching her money for the fare, she sat forward. “I changed my mind. Stop here.”

When the driver complied, Hannah stuffed the twenty-dollar bill into his palm, slammed the door open, then grabbed her two pieces of luggage and bolted from the cab. Rushing toward the office building, she peered back at the black SUV at the end of the block coming toward her. Inside, she searched the foyer for an escape route. She saw a corridor that led to the suites on the ground floor. Maybe there was a back way out.

Pulling her suitcase, she hastened toward the hallway. Speed walking, she covered its length but didn’t see an exit sign. With a glance over her shoulder, she turned down an offshoot of the main hall. Behind her she heard footsteps clicking on the tile floor and didn’t dare look back.

Focused on the door to the staircase, she made a decision to go up if she had to. Hopefully whoever was in the black SUV wasn’t really after her, or if so, they wouldn’t search the whole fifteen-story building. Maybe she could find an office to hide in on another floor. Maybe she was overreacting, but she didn’t want to take the chance.

In the stairwell, she zeroed in on a door on the outside wall with a red-lettered sign plastered on its dull gray surface that read Emergency Exit Only. She stared up the stairs, then at the door. If she opened it, an alarm might go off.

What choice did she really have?

None. It would be easier to get lost on the street or in another building, than in this one.

She plowed through the exit, dragging her piece of luggage while gripping her purse and small bag in her other hand. Silence greeted her as she came out into an alley between the two office buildings. Releasing her bottled breath, she glimpsed the main street where her cab had let her out and knew that wasn’t the way to go. She headed deeper into the maze of alleys that ran behind and between the buildings, the odor of garbage assailing her. The smell of dead fish nearly choked her. She hastened her pace.

She kept going in the direction the bus depot was and finally emerged on the avenue that led to the station. Before taking another step, she surveyed the area for the black SUV or anything else that appeared suspicious.

Nothing.

Checking her watch, she realized she only had ten minutes to make her bus to Sweet Creek. If she thought she was in danger of being followed, she wouldn’t go to the ranch. She couldn’t risk their lives. She’d come up with another way to survive, to work.

With hurried steps, she approached the curb and grabbed a taxi that had just dropped off a customer. After seated in the back, she gave the driver the address of the bus depot and kept vigilance on the traffic around her. Ten minutes later, the driver stopped in front of the bus depot, and Hannah ducked inside. Again assessing the nearly deserted station, she saw nothing to alarm her.

Quickly purchasing her ticket, she strode to the bus, gave the driver her big bag, then made her way to the back by the exit, where she deposited the smaller suitcase in the seat by the window. She slid down just enough to keep an eye out the window but not be in full view of anyone on the sidewalk or in a car.

Then she watched the station and the passengers who entered the bus. She purposely forced deep air into her lungs. Her pulse rate finally slowed to a normal rate.

If there had been someone after her, then it had been a close call. Probably she overreacted, but she’d decided long ago she would rather do that than be wrong. Being wrong meant she could be dead. There was no choice.

However, the fact remained, she’d stayed too long in Billings. She’d come to care too much for Saul and allowed herself to pretend he still needed her when he hadn’t. She would make sure her time at the Triple T Ranch was shorter. If there were no complications, Misty should be fine without home health care in seven or eight weeks.

Perfect for her. As much as she loved Montana and its wide-open spaces and breathtaking scenery, after this job she would have to move to another state. She really should have before now, but there was something about Montana that had touched a need in her. She wanted to stay in the state. That was a luxury, like so many others, she couldn’t afford any longer.

Micah McGraw, a Deputy U.S. Marshal in Montana, picked up the phone and placed a call to his brother, Jackson, a Special Agent in the Chicago FBI field office. “I lost Hannah Williams. She must have seen me and figured I was tailing her. She bolted out of a cab and into an office building. I searched it but couldn’t find her.”

“Do you think Hannah Williams is Jen Davis?” Jackson asked, a tired, exasperated tone to his voice.

“Her hair’s different, but that’s easy enough to change. From a distance she looks like the photo I got from her file.”

“Then my informant was right. I hope she left Billings then because the Martino crime family is moving in on her. There are similarities between Eloise Hill and Jen Davis that will get her killed.”

“I wish the marshal who was Jen’s contact hadn’t retired and moved to Arizona. We could use a positive identification and someone who Jen knows. Is there any way the informant can stop them from pursuing her? Jen Davis doesn’t have anything to do with the Martino crime family.”

“I don’t think so. The informant contacts me, not the other way around. Jen could be murdered before I speak with her again so find her, Micah. Too many have died at the hands of the Martino family.”

“I’m trying. I’ll keep you informed if the woman’s trail is picked up.” Micah replaced the receiver in its cradle and stared out the window of his office. The name of the program he was a part of mocked him. This was one witness he couldn’t protect. And it certainly wasn’t what he’d signed up for—watching helplessly as another was killed.