Читать книгу Deadly Vows - Shirlee McCoy - Страница 13

Two minutes.

One-hundred twenty seconds.

Such a short amount of time, but Olivia knew better than most that a few moments could change a life completely. In December, she’d celebrated Christmas alone, congratulating herself on not giving in to her parents’ demands to fly to Florida to be with them. She’d dressed up on Christmas Eve and attended candlelight service, refusing to feel self-conscious about being there alone. Then she’d returned home and decorated a tiny Christmas tree, drank hot chocolate and danced to “The Nutcracker Suite.” Alone and independent and almost happy to be that way.

And then it had all changed.

Ford had come knocking, telling her all the things he knew she wanted to hear. Somehow she’d fallen into the fantasy of renewal, glimpsed the dreams she’d given up on and let herself believe that he’d changed. Regret had come immediately, and she’d run outside and into more trouble than she’d ever imagined she could find. Now she was a puppet, pulled by invisible strings, going in directions she didn’t want to.

She coughed, thick smoke filling her throat and burning her eyes. How long before the fire spread to the kitchen? How long before the entire house was engulfed in flames? Could she afford to wait any longer for Ford to return?

Could she live with herself if she left without him?

Lord, please, let him come back soon.

The prayer whispered through her mind as she grabbed a dish towel, soaked it and covered her mouth and nose. It wasn’t just herself she needed to worry about. She had the baby to think of. An innocent life she needed to protect. But she couldn’t just leave Ford and the two marshals to die.

She dropped to her hands and knees, crawling to the kitchen threshold. “Ford!” she shouted, but the words barely carried through the dish towel and over the crackling roar of the fire.

“Ford!” She tried again, and this time a shadow appeared in front of her. Broad and tall and darker than the thick smoke. Olivia blinked, scrambling backward.

“I thought I told you to leave!” Ford shouted, towering over her, one of the marshals held in a fireman carry over his shoulder. Another man followed close behind.

“I was worried,” she said, standing, relief and fear mixing, stealing her breath and her strength. She put a hand on the wall, steadying herself.

“You could have worried from outside. Come on. The whole living room is in flames. It won’t take long for it to spread to the roof.”

“Let me go first.” Marshal James limped out from behind Ford.

She followed him to the kitchen door, the smoke thicker, the room nearly black with it. She coughed, gagging on the moist, hot air she inhaled.

“Wait until I call for you,” Marshal James said as he stepped outside. Several seconds passed as the fire in the living room crackled and hissed and the thick blackness intensified.

Ford pressed in close to Olivia, leaning out the door, still carrying the fallen man. “If he doesn’t call us outside soon, we’re walking out without the go-ahead. The way that fire is blazing, the whole place could collapse.”

The imagine of the house shuddering, then falling in on itself flashed through Olivia’s head. Not a pretty picture. Especially if she, Ford and Marshal Louis were still in the house when it happened.

“All right. We’re clear. Come on,” Marshal James said as he reappeared in the doorway and took Olivia’s arm, gently guiding her down the back steps. “Are you okay, Ms. Jarrod.”

“Fine. It’s your partner I’m worried about,” she responded, pulling off the wet cloth and turning to watch as Ford approached. Cool air bathed her cheeks, filled her lungs. She was safe. They were all safe. For now.

Ford stopped beside her, carefully lowering the unconscious marshal to the ground, and bending over him. “He’s still breathing, but his head is bleeding a lot. We need to call an ambulance.”

“Already done,” Marshal James said, his voice raspy with smoke.

“Maybe we should wait at a neighbor’s house until they come. I don’t like the idea of Olivia being out here in the open.” Ford put a hand on Olivia’s shoulder, and she knew she should step away. He was her husband and the father of her child, but whatever else he’d been had died a long time ago. Allowing herself to believe differently would only make it harder to say goodbye.

“Go, but not to the neighbors. Find a ride out of town and keep going until you’ve put as much distance between yourself and this town as you can,” Marshal James said, as he leaned over his partner. He didn’t look at Olivia and Ford as he said it, and for a moment Olivia thought the smoke and heat had wreaked havoc on her brain cells.

“What are you saying, James? You want us to leave the program? Go out on our own?” Ford asked, frowning a little as he met Olivia’s gaze.

“What I’m saying is that we’ve done a great job of keeping Ms. Jarrod safe.” He looked up, his expression hard and grim. “Look, I could lose my job for saying this, but I’d rather lose my job than see you or your wife lose your life. There’s a leak somewhere in the organization. We’ve suspected it for a while, but can’t find it. If you stay in the program, there’s no guarantee either of you will live to see the Martino trial.”

“But—” Olivia began, the sound of sirens cutting off whatever question she planned to ask. Good thing, because she wasn’t sure what to ask. What to say.

“Sounds like help is here. Better make your decision about what you want to do before they come back here.”

“It’s made. Thanks for the warning. Come on, Olivia. Let’s go,” Ford said, taking her hand and pulling her across the backyard.

“Go where?” Olivia asked, but she didn’t resist his gentle grip. Didn’t even try to pull away as they walked through the yard of the house behind hers.

“Like Marshal James suggested—far away from here.”

A shout came from somewhere behind them, and Olivia’s pulse jumped. She glanced back, saw the house nearly consumed by flames, dark figures spilling around the side and into the backyard. Firefighters? Police? More federal marshals?

“If we’re going it alone, we’d better pick up the pace. You game?” Ford asked, and she looked up into his face. It wasn’t often he asked an opinion and rare that he included anyone else in his plans. What was he thinking? Worrying about?

There was no time to ask.

No time for anything but a quick nod. “Yes.”

They ran through the yard behind Olivia’s, cut around the side of the house and out onto a sidewalk where a crowd of people stood staring at the flames that shot up into the black sky. If anyone watched Olivia and Ford race away from the scene, Olivia didn’t notice. She was too busy trying to keep pace with Ford.

Dusk threw long shadows across the road as Ford pulled Olivia away from the crowd and further along the quiet street. At six foot two he was nine inches taller than Olivia, his long legs eating up the ground at a pace she normally wouldn’t be able to match. Funny how motivating fear could be. Not only was Olivia able to keep up, but she thought she might just be able to beat Ford in a race.

Her legs ached, her lungs burned, but fear spurred her on.

A leak in the organization. Rather lose my job than see you dead.

The marshal’s words chanted through Olivia’s mind in time to the frantic beat of her heart. A leak in the U.S. Marshals? Was that how the two murder victims had been found?

Did it matter?

She’d been found. Any illusion she’d had that the marshals could keep her safe was gone. She wasn’t safe. Wouldn’t be safe as long as the Martino family thought they could keep her from the trial.

A sharp pain ripped through her side, and she gasped, bending over so suddenly Ford nearly pulled her off her feet before he was able to stop. Hunched over, gasping for breath, she grabbed her side. Please, just let it be a cramp. Please don’t let anything be wrong with the baby.

“You okay?” Ford brushed hair from Olivia’s face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. Warm. So familiar. More welcome than they should be. Would he be touching her with such kindness if he knew she was pregnant? Or would he turn and walk away, leaving her alone as he had so many times during their marriage?

“Fine,” she managed to say as she straightened and moved away from his touch. Things were complicated enough. No way would she complicate them more by thinking about the past. Ford was her husband for now, the father of her baby forever, but he would never again be the man who’d held her heart in his hands.

“Are you sure?” He scanned her face, his eyes glimmering darkly in the dim streetlight.

“Yes. We’d better keep moving. The marshals will be looking for us.” So would Martino’s men, but giving voice to that fear would only make it more terrifying, and Olivia kept it to herself.

Ford glanced back the way they’d come, and frowned. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone followed us, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe.”

“We need to get out of town.”

“I was thinking the same thing. The problem is, both our cars are back at your place.”

“There’s a train station the next town over. I’m sure someone would give us a ride there.” She hadn’t had much of a chance to build friendships in Pine Bluff, but she was sure that her neighbor Jeb would give her a ride if she asked. If not, one of her coworkers at the diner or someone from church might be willing to help.

“I’ve got two problems with that. The first is that we’d be putting someone else in danger. The second is that the train station is going to be the first place anyone searching for you will look. I saw a used car lot just outside of town. If I can get to it, I can buy us a ride.”

“It’s three miles from here. That’s too far to walk with the marshals searching for us.”

“The marshals aren’t the only ones searching, and they’re not the most dangerous. That’s exactly why I’m going alone.”

“You can’t.”

“Of course I can. Anyone searching for us will be looking for two people. They won’t pay much attention to a lone guy wandering around town,” he sounded confident and sure of himself, but that was how Ford always sounded. If he ever had doubts, he didn’t let anyone know about them. If he had worries he didn’t share.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“It’s the only one we have. There’s a church up ahead. We’ll see if it’s open. If it is, you can stay there until I get back.”

“Ford—”

“I don’t like this any more than you do, Livy. I’ve spent months searching for you. I don’t want to let you out of my sight, but I can’t see any other way to get us out of Pine Bluff.” He led her up the church’s wide steps and pushed open the door, urging her inside.

“Maybe we should forget all about leaving town and go back to my house. The trial is only three weeks away. I’m sure the marshals can keep me safe until then,” she said as she stepped into the brightly lit building. The wide corridor lined with doors was silent and empty but for several wooden benches lined up against the walls.

“They didn’t tonight. And if there’s really a leak like Marshal James said, they won’t be able to. The best thing we can do is go underground and stay there until the date of the trial.”

“For all we know, Marshal James is wrong and there is no leak. It’s possible the Martinos followed you or that they found me the same way you did.”

“I’ve been trekking back and forth across Montana since a lady in Billings recognized your photograph. I’m talking miles of open road with nothing but blue sky and mountains as far as the eye could see. If someone had been following me I would have known it.”

“So it’s just a coincidence that you found me and then Martino’s men did?” Olivia sank onto one of the benches, suddenly too tired to stand, too tired to argue and almost too tired to care whether she and Ford made it out of town.

“I don’t know. I just know I wasn’t followed.” Ford sounded as tired as Olivia felt. That was so unlike him, so different from the constantly moving, constantly energized man she’d married that Olivia studied his face, looking for some sign of what he’d been through in the months since she’d gone into witness protection. Aside from the scar that bisected his right cheek, he looked the same. Handsome. Strong. Confident. She wanted to reach out, trace the line of the scar, let her fingers linger on warm flesh.

She blinked, surprised by the train of her thoughts. Uncomfortable with them. Aside from her lapse of judgment two days after Christmas, Olivia had been separated from Ford for over a year. She’d been planning to sign divorce papers when she returned to Chicago for Martino’s trial. In her mind, what they’d had was over.

She needed to keep it that way.

She rubbed the back of her neck, tried to refocus her thoughts. “Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“That’s why I’m leaving. Give me an hour. If I’m not back by then…” he hesitated, then continued. “Call the FBI. Ask for Jackson McGraw. He’s the agent in charge of the Martino trial. Tell him you don’t feel like the marshals can keep you safe.”

“You think he’ll be able to offer some other form of protection?”

“I don’t know, and I’m praying that you won’t have to find out. Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers just as he had in her kitchen, the heat of his touch sweeping through Olivia, sending her back to other less complicated times. Times when she’d really believed that Ford would always love her.

“Stay here, Liv. Promise me.”

“I promise.” The words escaped before she realized they were forming, and Olivia bit her lip to keep from taking them back. What good would it do? If Ford came back, good. If not…she’d leave on her own. Going back to the FBI and marshals wasn’t something she planned to do.

Ford walked outside, disappearing from view, and Olivia sat for several moments, her fingers pressing against her lips. He’d kissed her. Twice.

And he’d said he loved her.

It had been a long time since she’d heard those words.

Restless, she stood, pacing to windows that flanked either side of the door. Outside, darkness painted the street and houses in broad black strokes, hiding whatever danger might be hiding there. Olivia scanned the area, watching as a few people wandered past the church. Young. Laughing and jostling one another as they walked. Life went on the way it had before the fire had destroyed Olivia’s home, before she’d nearly died, but she had changed. She’d realized that the responsibility for her safety lay in her own hands rather than the hands of others. If she were going to survive, if her baby was going to survive, she’d have to keep that in mind.

She sighed, letting her hand rest on her stomach. She wanted to open the door, run out into the night and disappear into the darkness. Wanted to forget about Vincent Martino, forget about the trial, forget everything but creating a good life for her child. She wanted to, but couldn’t. Vincent Martino was a cold-blooded killer. Olivia had watched him shoot a rival crime boss. If Olivia didn’t testify, he might go free. Free to kill again. That was something Olivia couldn’t allow.

“Miss? Can I help you?” A woman asked, her voice coming behind Olivia.

Olivia jumped, her heart slamming against her ribs as she turned to face the woman. “No, I was just…”

What was she doing? Hiding from the federal government and hired assassins didn’t seem like an answer she should give.

“I heard you come in several minutes ago, but I was on the phone with a parishioner. Couldn’t get the poor old soul off the phone. You know how that is,” the woman said, smiling from behind large, broad-rimmed glasses.

“Yes.”

“I did finally manage to convince her that choir practice shouldn’t be canceled just because she couldn’t make it. And, now, I’ll be happy to help you with whatever it is you need.” Her smile continued as she drew closer, her gold-green eyes resting on Olivia’s face, dropping to her clothes and then returning. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. I’m just waiting for a friend. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” she responded, her wiry gray hair bouncing as she cocked her head to the side. “I hope you don’t think I’m being nosey, but it looks like you’ve been in an accident. Is there something I can do to help?”

An accident?

For a moment Olivia wasn’t sure what the woman was talking about. Then it clicked. The fire. Heaven knew what she looked like after standing in the smoky kitchen and crawling across the floor. The rag she’d wrapped around her face had probably streaked whatever soot and grime had been there. She started to wipe at her cheeks, but stopped herself. The damage was already done and the mess she was in couldn’t be hidden. She needed to answer the question in such a way that the woman didn’t feel the need to call the police. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. It’s just…I was in a house fire.”

“That explains all those sirens I heard. It sounded like the entire fire department was racing through town.”

“It was an extensive fire. I think my house is totally destroyed. The firefighters are still working to control the blaze, and I just couldn’t bear to watch it burn. I started walking and found myself here. It seemed like the right place to stop.” The words spewed out, and Olivia bit her lip to keep from saying more. Too much information, and she might give something away that she shouldn’t.

“I’m glad you thought so. You’ve been through something terrible, but thank the good Lord you survived. Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll get you some hot, sweet tea. Is there someone you’d like me to call for you? A friend or family member who can take you in until your house is rebuilt? If not, I’m sure someone in our church can help you out.”

“I’ve got my…” Husband. The word was on the tip of her tongue, but she refused to give it voice. She’d put Ford in a box after she’d left Chicago. A box she’d titled The Man I Used To Be Married To. Changing the title just might change how she saw him, and that could only lead to hurt. “Friend. He’ll be here shortly.”

“Good. I’d hate for you to be alone at a time like this. Especially in your condition.”

“Condition?”

“You’re not pregnant?”

Surprised, Olivia glanced down at her stomach. She’d noticed the slight pop to her belly. Now, in the course of several hours, two other people had commented on it. One of them was a complete stranger. How long would it take Ford to notice? “I didn’t think it was that noticeable.”

“I’m sure it’s not, but I’ve got three daughters and nine grandkids. I can spot a pregnant woman a mile away. Now, how about I get you that tea?”

“That’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll just wait here until my friend comes if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Olivia smiled, but it fell away as soon as the woman disappeared into an office at the end of the hall.

In the two and a half months it had been since she’d taken the first pregnancy test and realized she was carrying Ford’s child, she’d felt guilty for not letting him know. That guilt had been tempered by the reality of her situation. If she contacted him, there was every chance the Martinos would find her. It had been a valid excuse for keeping him in the dark, but there was no excuse now. She’d been found. Ford had reentered her life. Telling him about the baby was the only logical thing to do.

Except that Ford had made it very clear he didn’t want children. Ever. They’d discussed it before their marriage and Olivia had brought it up several times after they’d said “I do,” but Ford’s stance on children hadn’t wavered. They were too much work, too much mess and too time-consuming. He had other things he wanted to expend his energy on.

One thing, anyway.

His career. Building a real estate brokerage and a fortune.

Maybe telling him about the baby was the wrong thing to do. Despite his tender kisses and sweet words of love, Ford was more committed to his work than he was to anything else. A clean break, a new start, was what they both needed, and she was sure that Ford would be happy enough to go back to his busy schedule and workaholic ways once he was sure she was safe.

But could Olivia go on with her life knowing that she had kept something so important from him?

She rubbed the back of her neck as she stared out into the night. In a few months she’d turn thirty-three. An age when she’d thought she would have her life figured out. Instead she was more confused than ever.

A car pulled up in front the church, idled there for a moment and sped away. Olivia shrank back from the window, her heart beating wildly. Worrying about whether or not she should tell Ford about the baby was a waste of energy. What she should really be worrying about was getting out of Pine Bluff alive.

You shouldn’t be worrying about anything. God is in control. You just have to trust Him.

The thought flitted through her mind, and she tried to cling to it, believe it. But belief was as elusive as a dream, and all she could do was pray that whatever decision she made would be the right one.