Reluctant Witness (46 page)

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Authors: Sara M. Barton

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BOOK: Reluctant Witness
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“That’s a nice story, Nancy.”

“It is, isn’t it? Terry’s a good man. I was
lucky. It’s not every man who can handle his wife being a
successful law enforcement agent. I’ve seen a lot of marriages
break up. All those temptations, when you’re stuck on an all-night
surveillance in cramped quarters -- some people don’t know how to
say no. Sometimes when you’re dealing with the scum of the earth
all day long, it’s hard to keep that dirt from rubbing off on you.
We made a pact to connect as a couple on our time off. Terry was a
golf nut, and I figured if I was going to spend any time with him,
I’d better learn the game. You have to have shared interests,
Marigold. It’s important to genuinely enjoy each other’s
company.”

“True,” I nodded. “There’s nothing worse than
trying to keep a relationship going when you only have sex in
common.”

“People just expect marriage to be easy. It’s
actually a lot of work. Any relationship can become strained when
life is challenging. But if you’re with the right person and you
understand that love is worth fighting for, marriage can be a
rewarding experience.”

 

Chapter Forty
One

 

We took a detour on our way home. Nancy
cuddled with Cooper while I ran into Baskin Robbins to buy coconut
ice cream for dessert.

“What are we doing tonight for dinner?” she
asked me when I returned.

“Mexican.”

“Oh, one of my favorites.” She handed me the
little dog. “He’s really quite comfortable with people, isn’t
he?”

“He’s a nice boy.”

By the time we got back to
the condo, it was empty. Rocky, Tom, Terry and Jeff had gone to the
driving range to hit golf balls. I got busy in the kitchen, putting
the meal together. Nancy wandered out onto the covered balcony with
Jeff’s copy of
Vanilla Orchid
Magic
.

Cooper wandered into the living room, hopped
up on the ottoman, crossed over to the sofa, and settled down for a
long nap. Occasionally, he would glance around, making sure I was
still in the kitchen and Nancy was still on her chaise. I realized
that his perch on the sofa let him watch the comings and goings,
and wondered if that was a sign that Cooper would be a great
watchdog.

After I chopped ingredients for a spicy corn
salad, I tossed them together in a lime-and-olive oil vinaigrette,
letting the flavors blend while I marinated the chicken for
fajitas. By the time the men walked through the door, I had
caramelized the onions and peppers, shredded cheese and lettuce,
and chopped some tomatoes. There was a pitcher of margaritas in the
refrigerator, chilling, and I was in the process of heating the
grill.

“Mmm, something smells great,” Rocky
announced.

“Indeed,” said Tom, peering into the kitchen.
“Need any help with anything?”

“You can play bartender, my friend.” I led
him to the pitcher and the glasses. “We’ve also got Corona, for
those who prefer beer.”

“Excellent,” he declared. “That will really
hit the spot.”

We sat down to dinner a short time later on
the covered balcony, passing the platters and bowls of fajita
fixings around as we swapped stories. I spent much of the meal
laughing. There was a wonderful sense of camaraderie among the
group; they made me feel like I belonged.

Tom and Rocky carried the dirty dishes into
the kitchen when we were done, followed by a hopeful little
terrier, looking for fallen tidbits. I packed up the leftover food
and put it in the fridge, scooped coconut ice cream into small
bowls, and carried the tray outdoors.

“Marigold, you are indeed a treasure,” Rocky
told me. “That was delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“She’s a good cook,” Terry agreed. “But the
best part is that she doesn’t spend all day doing it, so I don’t
have to feel guilty.”

“Tricks of the trade. I know a lot of
shortcuts and quick meals from the caterers I worked with over the
years,” I replied. “It’s the old adage that time is money and money
is time. The best ones try to concoct impressive meals that are
cost-effective and easy to prepare.”

“Delicious.” Jeff tipped his beer in my
direction. “You’re a girl after my own heart.”

“Marigold, did you know Jeff likes to cook?
You two have that in common,” Tom informed me, a little smile
playing upon his lips.

“Oh, heavens!” Nancy smacked her lips and
rubbed her stomach. “Remember the time he made that grilled lamb?
He marinated it in herbs and garlic. It was exquisite.”

“What about those baby back ribs?” Terry
asked the gathered crowd.

“And the ginger-glazed mahi mahi with that
papaya salsa....”

“Don’t you folks think you’re laying it on a
bit thick?” Jeff inquired. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that
you’re trying to convince Marigold I’m a real catch.”

“I just think you two would be so cute
together in the kitchen.” Nancy showed us a toothy grin. “Not to
mention the food would be amazing!”

“I’m not a bad cook,” Tom told us. “I make
pretty good pancakes and French toast. My wife, on the other hand,
can barely boil water. But she does other things well.”

Terry nodded with great enthusiasm as he
poured me another margarita. “Indeed she does. I remember one time
I had a case where we needed to get up close and personal with a
guy who was laundering money for one of the Mexican cartels. Jojo
came up with a brilliant scheme that allowed us to get right next
to the bugger. He never realized all the folks around him were part
of an FBI surveillance team.”

“What about the time I had to go undercover
on that case down in Manassas? She sent me to that hairdresser who
turned me into a raving beauty. ‘Nancy,’ he told me, ‘you have a
great chassis, but your car could use a good wash and wax.’ Next
thing I knew, I was wearing spiked heels and an Yves St. Laurent
dress Jojo found in an upscale consignment shop, sipping cocktails
on the terrace of a hunt club with a guy who sold American missiles
to a Middle Eastern country. Boy, was he surprised when I showed
him my badge and cuffed him.”

“That was some dress,” Terry sighed,
remembering fondly. “It broke my heart when she had to return
it.”

“I’ll just bet,” Rocky chuckled.

Terry and Nancy volunteered to do the
clean-up after dinner. Tom excused himself to go call his wife,
which inspired Rocky to do the same. That left me on the balcony
alone with Jeff.

“So,” he said, “shall we adjourn to the
chaise lounges?”

We made our way to the seating area over by
the master bedroom, out of sight of the kitchen workers. Cooper
padded after us. When I sat down, the tiny terrier came over to me
and pawed at my leg, wanting to be picked up.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” Jeff
smiled.

“What didn’t?”

“Looks like Mini Coop is fitting in nicely.
He already sees you as his go-to person.”

We talked for an hour or more, changing
topics frequently. I enjoyed listening to Jeff talk, frequently
interjecting comments. As I sat there, I realized that the more I
knew about him, the more I liked him. It was a big change from my
relationship with Jared; he had dominated every conversation,
making sure to make his points and come out on top. Jeff wanted to
know what I thought about this or that, and he actually listened
when I answered.

All the while, the ocean waves rolled in
below us, a soothing symphony of nature’s sounds in the background,
drowning out the noise of the ice hockey game on the television in
the living room. We could hear Terry holler at the TV every once in
a while, berating a player who blew a shot or cheering for a
well-placed goal.

“We’re ready to get started tomorrow,
Marigold,” Jeff told me, gazing out towards the water. “Are you
nervous about how it will all go down?”

“A little. Are you?”

“Sure. I really want it to go well.”

“Did you mean what you said earlier, that you
want me to have a great life?” I wanted to know. He answered
without hesitation.

“Absolutely.”

“Does that mean I’ll see you again when this
is over, Jeff?”

“Do you want to see me again?”

“Definitely.”

“Who am I to disappoint you?” I could barely
make out his features in the darkness, but I thought he was smiling
at me.

“But if something happens....”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.
Tonight, we’re here, making plans to see each other again when this
is all over. Nothing else matters.”

The evening passed too quickly. One moment it
seemed we were entwined in each other’s arms, and the next, it was
time for him to walk out the front door. That first kiss shared in
the dark was tender, sweet. I felt my heart stir as we remained
locked in our embrace, gently exploring our new-found passion. But
as the minutes passed, I began to dread what was to come. It was
almost time to say goodbye. Everything would change tomorrow. I
knew we could have no future until we parted; and yet I was still
reluctant to let go of what we had here and now. I wanted time to
stand still for just a little while, that I might have more of him
to remember. Jeff would leave soon to go back to Atlanta and I had
no guarantees I would ever see him again, only his word that he
would do all he could to make sure I had a great life.

“It’s time for me to go,” he announced
softly, somberly. “Sweet dreams.”

“No,” I whispered back, fighting the tears,
even as I knew he was right. “No.”

“It will be okay. Trust me.”

I watched him depart through the front door
and once it shut, there was only the memory of too few kisses and
his brief caress. That was all we would share until this was over.
If we couldn’t catch the man who set this scheme up, if the culprit
got away, I might never see Jeff again.

All that uncertainty left me drowning in a
sea of despair. It had to work out, I told myself. It just had to
succeed. Otherwise, my life would have no meaning beyond mere
existence. I had seen the look of love in Jeff’s eyes; it was
unlike anything I had ever seen in another man’s eyes, and now
there was no turning back, no settling for second best. I just had
to have him.

I tossed and turned as I lay in bed, unable
to sleep. Cooper, anxious on his first night with me, popped out of
his crate every once in a while and paced around the room, not sure
of his new surroundings. Taking pity on him just after midnight, I
carried the ottoman in from the living room and placed it next to
my bed, and a moment later, the Yorkie gracefully leapt up onto the
bed, making his way over to where I lay. With soothing words and a
gentle hand, I comforted him. At last, he curled up beside me,
contented. I soon found my eyelids growing heavy with sleep.

Just after three, I awoke in a panic,
thinking an angry Jared was standing over me. Flustered, I quickly
sat up in bed, my heart frantically pounding against my rib cage. I
worked my way up from my fog of slumber, alerting my senses to pay
attention to even the slightest sound in the darkness. Turn on the
light, I instructed myself, reaching my hand up to the bedside
lamp. The warm glow seemed to banish the shadows from the room and
I felt the fear begin to fade. . It must have been a dream, my
brain tried to insist, but I wasn’t convinced. It felt too real.
Why did it feel so real? My cold hands trembled as I pulled the
covers around me, disturbing the tiny terrier in the process.
Cooper snuggled closer, wanting reassurance. I wanted that too. I
was grateful for his presence; it meant I was not alone.

Had I imagined it all? Was it some concoction
of an emotionally overwrought mind? I tried to recall the details.
In my dream, Jared had demanded to know why I was kissing Jeff. I
thought that odd. Had guilt crafted the nightmare because I had
felt an urge to connect a new man, the first since Jared died, or
was it something more?

There was a big part of me that regretted the
day I ever set eyes on Jared. So, why would I care that a man who
had shamelessly used me, might be angry I was falling in love with
another man? Did that sound like me? I didn’t think I felt guilty
about kissing Jeff, any more than I missed Jared. Fear was driving
my emotions now, not love. But why? I worried that Jared had done
something terrible, something so terrible that it would destroy any
chance of happiness I had with Jeff. I worried something terrible
would happen that would keep us apart.

Was it because I had spent so many years
living in fear that I didn’t know how to have a successful
relationship? Did I just need a little practice in living “happily
ever after”; to boost my confidence? Surely Jeff would come through
for me. He’d be able to find me when the bad guy was captured, come
hell or high water.

I settled back down, my head on my pillow,
and let my thoughts drift where they might. I wanted to shake off
this uneasy feeling. I was glad Cooper was with me.

Just past five, I woke up again. The little
dog did too. His ears shot up, alerted to an unexpected noise.

“What is it, boy?” I hopped out of bed,
pulling my robe around me. I stood staring at the locked glass door
just a few feet away, half-expecting to see a shadowy figure
slipping furtively away. The lights were off on the balcony, but as
far as I could tell, nothing looked out of the ordinary. With a
sigh, I turned, intending to check the living room, and that’s when
I saw the tiny glow on the side of my laptop.

“Why would my computer be on?” I asked the
dog. “I know I shut it off.”

Swiping the pad with my finger, I awakened
the screen. Suddenly curious, I pointed the cursor over the battery
display. I had sixty percent of a battery charge left. It had been
over ninety when I shut the machine down just before I climbed into
bed. Or had I forgotten to shut it down?

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