Sam reached over and placed a hand on Eliza’s knee. “You don’t have to tell me if it hurts too much. But I hope you know by now that any secret you want me to keep I will.”
“I know. What I can tell you has to be in confidence. I don’t expect you to keep it from Blake or Gwen.” Or even Carter for that matter, but she left that unsaid. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to ask you to keep this from them. They need to know that being around me might be a risk.”
Confusion spread over Samantha’s face, but she didn’t say anything. She relaxed and waited for Eliza to continue.
“I was in the witness protection program… Well, I still am, technically. Though I’ve blown that with my appearance beside Carter a few days ago.”
Sam opened her mouth and then closed it.
“My father witnessed…” How much should she reveal? Enough to let Sam understand the risk of continuing her friendship. “A murder. A couple murders.” More like a massacre. Dead was dead, however and adding layers to that carnage would only bring misery. “I was nine. So what I’m telling you is what I’ve learned since. I didn’t see anything.” Which added to the frustration of living her entire life partially removed from the world.
“You’ve never spoken of your parents,” Samantha said quietly. Patiently.
Emotion rolled over Eliza in hot waves. She was never quick to tears but they were close. So very close.
“My parents did the right thing. My father couldn’t live with himself.” She stood now and started to move. She picked up a small red plush toy that sat on a chair. “He turned state’s witness. We didn’t have much, so walking away from our life didn’t bother them as much as it might some. I guess, in that, I was grateful. It wasn’t like my grandparents lived close by. My father’s dad might still be alive somewhere. I’m told my mom’s parents are gone.”
“Where are your parents?” Samantha asked after a long pause.
Eliza sent her a wry smile and shook her head. “We were careful. But not careful enough.”
Sam pulled in a quick breath as the reality sunk in.
“I’ve been alone for a long time. Living in one anonymous state run dump after another. I moved often, just in case someone watched. The two cops that showed up at Carter’s press conference were assigned to my case when I was sixteen. I’m not in trouble with the law. My only crime is stupidity.”
Eliza pushed the hands of the toy over the eyes on the head. See nothing. Be nothing.
“If you knew helping Carter was a risk, why do it?”
“It was the right thing to do. I’m the one who suggested to Gwen that we go to that bar. I knew the guys flirting with us were edgy.” Eliza released a long-suffering sigh and continued. “I felt responsible. I couldn’t stand by and let Carter’s campaign slide into the dark abyss without trying to help.”
“He would have understood.”
“Maybe. It doesn’t matter. Seems the media has pegged me for an illegal at this point. I may have decreased his chances of getting into office instead of helping.” All the risk was for nothing.
There was a moment of silence.
“Why did you want to run again?”
Eliza sat the stuff animal on the bookshelf before turning to her friend. “Dean and Jim, the detectives, made certain I remembered why I was in hiding. The man who murdered my parents is still alive, Sam. In jail, but not unconnected. He has an extended family who would love revenge.”
“Revenge on a child who had nothing to do with his incarceration?”
“Dillinger and Capone might strike a pose for a good Hollywood movie, but they were animals who didn’t leave families unharmed. Their threat is what scared people into keeping their lips shut. There are many Capones out there. They come in all nationalities. All ages. The guy gunning for me made it clear that he’d find me. That it was his mission in life to eliminate my father’s seed from this earth. There’s no reason to think he’s found God and has changed his mind.”
“How old were you when your parents died?”
“Nine.”
Unlike Eliza, Sam was known to shed tears. They now welled behind her eyes. “Oh, Eliza. I’m sorry. What kind of friend am I that I never knew any of this?”
Eliza smiled and tried to joke. “Carter might look like he belongs in Hollywood, but I’m the better actor.”
Sam blinked back tears and forced a smile. She stood and walked over to Eliza. “I don’t know if I should be mad that you didn’t tell me this earlier or honored that you trust me enough now.”
“It’s a burden, Sam. Knowing me can be dangerous.”
“You don’t know that for sure or you would have run.”
Eliza nodded. Maybe. “I might still. But at least you’ll know why. I’d hate it if you disappeared and I never knew why.”
“Don’t say that. You’re not going anywhere.”
“I don’t want to.”
Sam frowned. “You’re not. You have friends who are capable of protecting themselves and you.”
Eliza leveled her gaze at Sam sighed. “I’m counting on that. If you didn’t have means, I wouldn’t have come here today.” She wanted safety for Sam and her family more than for herself. At least that was what Eliza wanted to believe.
****
“Harry?” The guard called his name from a few feet away. In his hands was a newspaper rolled into a tube and secured with a rubber band. “I have more wallpaper for you.”
Harry smiled as Devin approached, wondering what news the paper would bring now. Each and every day in prison morphed into the next with nothing to look forward to. Word from the outside was the only sunshine available.
Many of the criminals he’d been incarcerated with had a family member or two who would visit on occasion. Not Harry. He’d destroyed his family and any hope of seeing the remaining members ever again with his greed and selfishness. If and when he made parole he didn’t have the right to search out his daughters.
Harry stood and extended his hand for the paper. “Thanks,” he offered the guard.
Devin shrugged and walked away.
A low hum of anticipation brought a spark of warmth deep inside. Instead of opening the paper on the closest table, Harry opted for a little solitude and walked up the flight of stairs to his cell. There was still thirty minutes before the inmates were forced to their over-crowded bunks and barred rooms. But Harry would gladly give up the little bit of freedom for a glimpse of his grandson.