A Soldier's Redemption (9 page)

But then, after they moved back into the shadowed living room, he said, “I'm going to call the sheriff.”

And ugly reality came crashing back down.

 

Wade called Gage then excused himself to jog around the block. He didn't say why he was going, but Cory figured
it out without having to ask: he was going to make sure the guy he'd noticed yesterday wasn't hovering around. She spent the time pretending to tidy up the house, although all she really needed to do was some dusting. She'd done all her major housework just a few days ago, and while the dust hadn't really built up since then, it gave her an excuse to keep moving, and moving seemed like a good way to hold her fears at bay. Barely.

Wade returned to the house at the same time Gage arrived. They entered together, Gage in civvies, and joined Cory in the living room. Before she could even greet Gage or put down her dustrag, Wade said, “I didn't see him.”

Cory wasn't sure that eased her mind at all, given what Wade suspected. She dropped the rag on the table, brushed her hand quickly against her jeans, then shook Gage's hand and invited him to sit. “Coffee?”

He shook his head. “I'm fine. Thanks, Cory. So let's cut to the chase. Wade said next to nothing except you needed to see me.”

Cory nodded, then sank slowly onto the Boston rocker. Gage took the easy chair again, and Wade the end of the couch nearest to her. She looked at Wade. “You explain. Please.”

“Okay.” Wade leaned forward, resting his elbows on his splayed knees, and folded his hands. “I knew from the outset Cory had something to be afraid of. I was here when she got that call, after all, the one she called you about.”

Gage nodded. Cory noted he wasn't giving a thing away. He wasn't likely to speak a word until he was certain who knew what, and what they thought was going on. Protecting her secrets.

“Anyway, I won't bore you with all the irrelevant details, unless you think you need them. I've been on WITSEC
operations overseas, and by early this morning I realized that Cory must be in Witness Protection.”

Gage immediately stiffened. “I don't think…”

“Relax,” Wade said. “No one else would guess. I figured it out because I was here, I could see the fear, and some of her omissions were glaring, to say the least.”

Gage swore and looked at Cory. “I'm sorry. I never would have brought Wade here if I'd ever thought someone would figure this out.”

“It's okay,” Cory said. “I'm not upset that he knows. Far from it. And honestly, I think he's right when he says no one else would guess. He figured it out because he had the experience to put the pieces together.”

“I hope so,” Gage said flatly. Right now he wasn't looking too friendly.

Wade appeared untroubled by the reaction. Or maybe he had just gone back to his inner fortress. Cory surprised herself by hoping like hell that he hadn't. She didn't want him to go back to that. She kind of liked the man he'd revealed himself to be, even though he had as yet revealed little.

“Anyway,” Wade continued with little expression, “I also figured out why someone might have made that phone call, and I remembered something I would have caught on to immediately if I hadn't spent the last six months trying to lose most of what I learned as a SEAL.”

“And that is?”

“First let me explain a method we used a time or two in operations. You don't always have a clear idea of who your target is. Sometimes you don't have a photo, or even a decent description. So what we would do was try to scare a group of potential targets, then watch who took the most revealing action.”

Gage nodded slowly. “So you're saying you don't think that phone call was a prank.”

“It might well not be. And the reason I'm suspicious is because we saw the same guy at two different places yesterday. He followed us into the parking lot at the grocery, then we ran into him again in the aisle.”

“That doesn't mean anything.”

“That alone wouldn't. However, when we were walking home from the park together yesterday afternoon, I saw the guy again. Driving a different car down the street out front.”

“Hell.” Gage scratched his head almost irritably.

“I realize, of course, that some people have more than one car. I realize that call may indeed have been a prank. But when you put it all together with Cory's being in protection because she's the only person who can identify the man who murdered her husband, it doesn't pay to ignore coincidence.”

“No. No, it doesn't. But what would you say is the revealing action Cory took? Because I don't see that she did a thing.”

“Except take me in. And the guy who's watching might not have seen me arrive before the call. Actually no reason he should have, because he wouldn't have been looking for telltales until
after
the call…and I arrived basically right before it.”

Gage nodded slowly. “It's possible.”

“The thing is,” Wade continued, “if you assume he's got his eye on, oh, say half a dozen women who've moved here sometime over the last year, and he has to watch all of them, he's going to be looking around at one after another to see who did what after the phone call. And after the call he sees two things: Cory and her friend Marsha go to the pound and pick out a dog for Marsha. That might have
been enough to point a finger at Marsha except that then Cory comes home and a very short time later she emerges to go to the grocery store with me.”

“And you could easily look like a bodyguard.”

Cory spoke. “I think Wade is right, Gage. Especially when you consider that I not only suddenly have Wade living here, but we went shopping together. Ordinarily when people do that, they have a long-term relationship of some kind. But Wade wasn't in my life until the day before yesterday. In fact, when I look back at it, it could easily have appeared that I was doing the shopping and Wade was just
there.
”

“Okay,” Gage said. “And then you saw him again in the afternoon. In a different car.”

“And he didn't even glance at us,” Wade remarked, “while the woman in the car ahead of him smiled and waved.”

“Most folks in Conard County smile and wave. We're pretty sure someone is an outsider when they don't.” He rubbed his chin then looked at Cory.

“But you can't identify him as the man who killed your husband?”

“No, he didn't look anything like that man. I'd have noticed instantly if he had.”

Gage cocked one eyebrow and looked at them both. “You know how thin this is?”

“Very,” Wade said immediately.

“But it's still not something I can overlook. Give me a minute to think.”

For an instant, crazily, Cory heard the
Jeopardy
music in her head. Where had that come from? She looked at Wade and saw a man who was infinitely capable of waiting when necessary, one who might prefer to be moving, but
one who could also sit as still as a statue when he chose. He chose to be a statue right now.

Finally Gage spoke. “Okay. The way I see it is that while we can't be sure, Wade is making a good point about revealing actions. The guy who is after Cory may not know her appearance has been changed. They don't often do that in Witness Protection, but given that he can't find anyone who matches her appearance exactly, that kind of provocation would make sense, assuming he somehow found out where she is. And the only way I can think that he would have learned that is if he got the info from someone who works for the Marshals.”

Cory's heart skipped a beat then climbed right into her throat. “I didn't even think of that,” she whispered hoarsely.

Gage's dark eyes turned her way. “It's been a year, Cory, so it's obvious the Marshals succeeded in making sure no one followed you. So the only way this guy could have any idea you're here is if someone in the program talked. Some kind of leak.”

“My God,” she whispered. Her skin started to crawl with fear and anxiety again. “What else might he know?”

Gage shook his head. “I don't know, but if Wade is right about that call, then he didn't manage to find out your new name. So whatever someone leaked, it was minimal, or this guy would have your name and address.”

“Yes, that's true.”

“And it would be my guess that you didn't follow the usual protocol of using the same first name you had before, along with a last name that starts with the same initial, or he'd just as good as have your new name and address.”

“No, they told me that's what most people do but one of the Marshals…” Her voice broke, then steadied. “One of the Marshals was a good friend of my husband's. He
seemed more worried than the rest, and he was the one who suggested I come up with a totally different name.”

“Did you?” Wade asked suddenly. “Totally different? Or could there be a link between your name now and your past?”

Cory bit her lip. “My mother's name was Cory. And her maiden name was McFarland.”

Wade looked at Gage. “He could find that out, now that he thinks he might have located her.”

Gage nodded. “All too easily. Assuming he bothers to look.”

“Why wouldn't he look?” Cory asked, her heart still beating a nervous tattoo.

“Because, assuming this guy does indeed know where you are, he may feel he's already got all the information he needs. I can't read his mind, Cory. I just know we have to take steps.”

“What kind of steps? Are you going to call the Marshals?”

Gage shook his head. “Why in the name of all that's holy would I call them? If this isn't just some kind of weird coincidence, then we're dealing with an organization that has already leaked information about you. They're the last ones I'm going to call now. Unless that's what you want me to do.”

Cory shook her head quickly. “No. No. I don't want to run again. I can't do that again.” Her entire soul seemed to be screaming that another round of running and hiding would break her forever. Clenching her fists, she said again, “No.”

Gage's face gentled. “Not even to save your life?”

“What life? If I don't make a stand now, I'll never have one. I'm tired of always being frightened, of always looking over my shoulder. This guy is a killer and I'm the only one
who can put him behind bars. If he's found me, then I want to finish it now. I can't…I can't keep living this way. I just can't.”

“All right then.” Gage stood. “I won't even call the Marshals for a sketch of the murderer. I'm going to send an artist over here to do one just for us. I'd also like a sketch of the guy Wade thinks was following you. Are you up to that, Cory?”

“Definitely.” The decision was made. She would stand her ground.

And amazingly, that decision calmed her. The calm probably wouldn't last, but for now it felt wonderful to have finally made the choice. “I'm through letting that guy ruin my life,” she said, looking from Gage to Wade. “And frankly, the way I've been living is no life at all. So let's finish it, one way or another.”

 

The police sketch artist turned out to be nothing like Cory had imagined. Esther Nighthawk was a beautiful redhead who wore a long skirt and leaned heavily on a cane. Under one arm, she carried a sketchbook.

“Oh, I just do this to help out,” Esther said as Cory invited her into the kitchen so she'd have a table to work on. “I'm a full-time watercolorist, but I enjoy the challenge of doing these sketches for the sheriff.”

She settled on the chair facing Cory, and opened her sketchpad to a blank page. Then she pulled a box of drawing pencils from the large woven bag she carried. “I'm sorry we haven't met before. My husband and I live on a ranch—he raises sheep—and I only get to town every couple of weeks for shopping. Or when one of the children needs to come in for something.”

“That sounds like a nice life,” Cory said almost wistfully.

“It is.” Esther's gaze softened a bit. “My life sure changed radically after I met Craig. Before then I spent most of my time hiding.”

“From what?”

“Life. I had myself convinced that my art was all that mattered, but basically I was just afraid of a whole bunch of things.
Neurotic
would probably be a good word.”

“And now?”

“Now I love every minute of every day.” Esther smiled. “So, you're going to help me draw a picture of a man Gage seems to be worried about?”

“Yes. I'll try, anyway.”

“You talk, I'll draw.”

So Cory closed her eyes for a minute, and tried to summon her memory of the man who killed Jim. “It's hard,” she said after a moment. “You know how faces seem to skate away when you concentrate on them?”

“I know. That's why you're not going to concentrate. You're going to give me one detail to start with. I'll draw it, and you watch. As you watch me, tell me what's right and what's not. It'll work. Trust me.”

So that's what Cory did. She started with the general shape of the guy's head, and after a few erasures she decided it was correct. Then a nose, and that needed only three iterations. Little by little, the image built, and Esther was right, it was easier to say when something was wrong than to give an exact description of what was right.

A half hour later and she was looking at an eerily familiar face, one she couldn't have pulled out of her memory any other way.

“That's him,” she said. “You couldn't possibly get any closer.”

Esther nodded, smiling. “It's never as hard as people think it will be.”

“Only because you're such a good artist.”

Wade joined them, and together he and Cory helped create a sketch of the man they had met at the grocery.

“This is truly amazing,” Cory remarked again as she looked at the second sketch. “I thought I'd forgotten him entirely, but this is him.”