Guarding the Witness. Margaret Daley
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she was being taken care of. She didn’t witness the murder. She couldn’t testify about it. What happened?”
“Rainwater thought she might know something concerning the ledger and went after her. Or rather he sent a couple of his men since Rainwater is sitting in jail. We moved her out of state while she tried to help us find that ledger even from long distance.”
“So the police never could locate it?”
“No. They figure it has to be important since Rainwater personally killed a man over it. Usually others do his dirty work. The ledger probably details his contacts and operation. Thomas Perkins was in a position to know that information.”
“So how did Esther go missing? Maybe she just left the program.” She knew that was wishful thinking. When she’d stressed the importance of staying put, the woman always did. She’d been scared of her husband and now knowing who he’d worked for she was even more afraid.
“No, the Deputy U.S. Marshal running the case said it didn’t look like she had. It had been obvious there had been a fight. There was blood found on the carpet. It was her type.”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. Anger tangled with sadness and won. “She didn’t have a detail on her?”
“She was relocated with a new identity thousands of miles away.”
“Then maybe you have a leak somewhere.” She pivoted back to the sink, her stomach roiling with rage that a good woman was probably dead. This all wouldn’t have happened if they had stayed at Esther lawyer’s office for another hour or so. Why, God? It had tested her faith; and now with the Rainwater situation her doubts concerning the Lord had multiplied. As had her doubts about herself.
For the past four years she’d worked for Guardians, Inc., a group of female bodyguards run by Kyra Hunt. In that time, she had seen some vile people who would hurt others without hesitation. She’d thought she had been tough enough for the job, especially with all she’d seen in the military in the Middle East during several tours. Now she was wondering if this was a good time to change jobs.
The continual silence from Brody after her accusation made her slant a look over her shoulder. A frown slashed across his face, the first sign of emotion from him.
His gaze roped hers. “It’s more likely Esther contacted someone when she shouldn’t. Let slip where she was. We’ve never lost a witness if they followed the rules.”
“Take it from me—this isn’t easy to do. Walk away from everyone you know and start a new life. I can’t even call my mother or anyone else from my past.” Arianna had always called her mom at least once a week, even when she was on a job, to make sure everything was going all right, wishfully hoping one of those times her father would talk with her. He never had, which broke her heart each time. Not being able to at least talk with her mom, except that one time right after the incident in the Perkinses’ library, added family heartache on top of everything else.
“All I can tell you is that the U.S. Marshals Service is doing everything they can to locate Mrs. Perkins.”
Left unsaid was “dead or alive.” She closed her eyes, weariness attacking her from all sides. Since coming to the cabin, she hadn’t slept more than a few hours here and there. The marshals had moved her from Anchorage because they’d worried the safe house had been compromised. If that place had been, why not this one?
That question plagued her every waking moment. It was hard to rest when she didn’t know the people involved in her protection. When she did lie down, she’d managed to catch some sleep because she had her gun with her. She’d brought extra money, a switchblade and her gun without the marshals’ knowledge. In case something went down, she wanted to be prepared. That was the only way she would agree to all of this. She would see to her own protection. She didn’t trust anyone but herself to keep her alive.
Not even God anymore. That thought crept into her mind and prodded her memories. She wouldn’t think about the reason she’d left the army, much to her brothers’ and father’s dismay. But how could she trust again when one of her team had sold her out? In the end it wasn’t the Lord who had saved her. She’d saved herself.
That was when she’d vowed to protect others. She never wanted another to live in fear the way she had—scared she would go to prison for a crime she hadn’t committed.
She turned toward the marshal, appreciating what her clients must have felt when she’d guarded them and told them what to do. “Promise me you’ll let me know if you all find Esther. She was my client. I feel responsible for her.”
“You did everything you could. If you hadn’t been there, she would have been dead next to her husband.”
“And now she may be dead, her body somewhere no one has found yet. May never find.”
“Yes,” Deputy U.S. Marshal Brody Callahan said over the sound of the helicopter taking off.
The blunt reality of what might have happened to Esther, and still could happen, hung in the air between Arianna and the marshal. She went back to drying the lunch dishes. Anything to keep her occupied. If this inactivity didn’t end soon, she might go running through the woods screaming.
Mark Baylor, the oldest of the three marshals, with a touch of gray at his temples, strode to the door. “I’m gonna take a stroll around the perimeter.”
Usually one marshal stayed outside while two were inside—often one of them taking his turn sleeping. That was the way it had been set up with Ted and his team.
“Do you need any help?” The deep, husky voice of Brody Callahan, the marshal who seemed to be in charge, broke into her thoughts.
“With cleaning up?” she asked, surprised by the question.
“Yes.”
She glanced back at him. Six inches taller than her five-feet-eleven frame, Brody carried himself with confidence, which in its own way did ease her anxiety about her situation. His figure, with not an ounce of fat on him and a broad, muscular chest, spoke of a man that kept himself in shape. “I’ve got it under control.” About the only thing in my life that is.
“We equally share the duties while we’re here.”
“That’s good to know. I don’t cook.”
“You don’t?”
She finished drying the last plate. “Never had a reason to learn. I went from living at home with my family to the army. Then when I started working for Guardians, Inc., I found myself on assignment most of the time with wealthy clients who had cooks.” She shrugged. “The short amount of time I was in Dallas I ate out or ate frozen dinners.”
“That’s okay. I love to cook,” Kevin Laird, the youngest of the marshals, announced as he came into the living room.
Brody chuckled. “That’s why I like to team up with Kevin when I can. He can make the most boring food taste decent.”
“Good. I’m not averse to edible food.” Arianna moved out of the kitchen area, trying to decide what she should do next. Let’s see...maybe a crossword puzzle. Or better yet, solitaire. She still had at least fifty varieties to work her way through. The thought of more days like the past week heightened her boredom level to critical.
She began to pace from one of the few windows, drapes pulled, to the hearth. It was empty and cold. They couldn’t have a fire even at night when it did get chilly since it indicated someone was at the place. She counted her steps, mentally mapping out an escape route if she needed it. Her thoughts were interrupted when Kevin spoke up from the kitchen.
“This is a park ranger’s cabin. Where’s the guy that usually stays here?”
“On an extended vacation.” Brody prowled the living room in a different direction from her.
“Does he know we’re using it?” Arianna asked as she peeked out the window. The previous set of marshals had told her about