Rubbing a hand over his face, he cursed under his breath. “Quit spooking yourself.”

“If you’d been around when that man showed up with a gun…when he pointed it at Mia…” Fighting tears of exhaustion and disappointment, Laurel swallowed hard. “He got into my house without making a sound. And he wouldn’t have hesitated to pull that trigger if he’d thought we were worth more to him dead.”

“Then it’s a good thing I came when I did.” Wallace wasn’t any happier to be here than she was. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t used to such duties, had no patience with them. It hadn’t helped that her children had frayed his nerves by whining on the long drive. Amid all the chaos, Wallace had tried to explain who he was and why he was bringing her here. He’d said that a U.S. marshal would be taking over soon, but she wasn’t sure what it all meant. Wallace had told her she’d never be able to take her kids back home—was that true?

She couldn’t even conceive of it. What about her job as a janitor at the hospital? Her house? Her friends? She hadn’t been in Florence long enough to put down many roots. She’d moved there just eleven months ago, shortly after they transferred Virgil from USB Tucson to ADX Florence, but she had more there than anywhere else. She couldn’t imagine disappearing without saying a word to the people she’d met. Trinity Woods, the woman who babysat Mia and Jake while she worked had probably already arrived to find them gone. Although Laurel had wanted to call her, to tell her not to come, Trinity had shut off her cell phone service in order to save money.

“This can’t be happening,” she muttered.

“Oh, it’s happening, all right,” Wallace said. He claimed she was going into the Witness Protection Program, but until now WITSEC, as he called it, had had no relevance to her life beyond what she’d seen on TV. She’d never dreamed she’d be adopted into it herself. Her husband had been as physically abusive as the stepfather her mother had killed. She’d reported him and he’d spent a few months in jail, but the cops hadn’t been able to do much more to help her. Now, after she’d worked through that problem mostly on her own, they were whisking her away, promising a new identity?

Wallace slumped into a chair. “Where are the kids?”

“In bed.” He hadn’t noticed? They’d been asleep more than an hour, but it hadn’t been easy to get them settled down. They didn’t understand why they’d been carted off in the middle of the night. Mia had had an earache—hence, the whining. Her complaints had upset Jake and made him cranky, as well.

“Maybe after a few years I can go back,” she said.

“You’d be a fool to take that chance.”

But she’d already started over and she liked Colorado.

The fact that her mother wouldn’t be able to contact her was actually a relief. The same held true for her ex-husband, who’d threatened her numerous times even after his stint in jail and had only calmed down in the past few months, since he got a new girlfriend. But there were other people. People she’d miss. Melanie at work was one example. She’d been a good friend.

“Do you think they got to Virgil?” she asked. “Do you think he’s dead?”

Wallace stared up at her. “You know what I think.”

He’d explained Virgil’s gang ties. She hadn’t wanted to believe him, but she knew in her heart that what he said was true. Virgil had been so angry in the early years. He’d been determined to rail against the system any way he could.

None of that had helped his cause, of course. It’d only made things worse.

“He didn’t run off.” She’d said that before but Wallace didn’t believe her. “He’d never abandon me.”

“If he’s returned to The Crew and made nice, he’d have no reason to fear for your safety.”

“But he wouldn’t be free. Not really. He must want to get out, away from them, like he told you, or he wouldn’t be doing this.”

Skepticism etched a deep frown in his face. “He’s loyal, isn’t he?”

“To a fault,” she responded.

“Exactly my point. These guys, probably even the one with the firearm, are as much family to him as you are. Could be he’s decided he can’t live without them. It’s a cold world with no friends.”

She was lonely herself. They had only each other, which was why he had to be okay. “He’s got me,” she said, stubbornly refusing to doubt. “He’ll always have me. And he’s tired of fighting.”

“Why would he be tired of it? That’s all he’s ever known.”

“He never fought unless he was attacked.”

Wallace didn’t seem to care that he was upsetting her. He was just as worried, just as agitated. “When you’re the man everyone else wants to knock off the top of the heap, you become a target. But he did more than protect himself. He made all comers pay.”

She folded her arms to shield herself against his negativity as well as the cold. According to what Wallace had said on the way into town, Gunnison saw the sun almost every day of the year, yet it occasionally had some of the lowest temperatures in the nation. Today felt like one of those days. “Then that’s what he had to do. Anyway, if he made a deal with you, he’ll keep it.”

Wallace checked his cell phone for messages before setting it on the table beside him. “We’ll see, won’t we? He’s not in his motel room. There’s got to be a reason.”

Wringing her hands, she made another pass around the room. “The Crew must’ve found him.”

“They couldn’t find him, not unless he called them. It’s not as if they have high-tech equipment like the FBI, for God’s sake.”

She pivoted to face him. “And yet the FBI can’t stop The Crew.”

He opened his mouth, apparently prepared to continue arguing, when his phone rang. Grabbing it off the table, he jumped to his feet. “Hello?…There you are! Where the hell have you been?…In the middle of the night?…No, she’s fine. The Crew’s been watching her, following her, but I got her and the kids out without being seen…. I’m sure of it…. Because she’s been dying to talk to you…. Just a minute.” Looking relieved, he handed her the phone. “It’s your brother.”

Laurel’s heart raced as she pressed Wallace’s cell phone to her ear. She’d been so terrified that Virgil had been kidnapped or killed. A surge of gratitude swept through her; at the same time she tensed with the knowledge that the worst could still happen. “Virgil?”




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