Never Look Back (10 page)

"I want someone like Mommy," Vladimir said.

His father grinned. "Mommy's okay, too simple. But this woman is the bomb. You need women like that."

Vladimir nodded.

The door flung open, and a group of young women flooded in and threw themselves at his father. They ordered drinks, lit cigarettes, and smoked away.

"Slow down, ladies." His father chuckled. "My son's here."

The ladies turned to Vladimir and tickled and kissed him till he couldn't stop laughing.

On their way home, Vladimir had spotted his mother outside the porch waiting for them. She cursed her father in Russian.

He leaned his body across hers. "I'm making lots of money, why are you complaining?" His voice boomed and echoed as they entered their house.

"Other fathers play ball with their son. It's not healthy to take him to your restaurant with all the smoke and women."

"You're comparing me with the husbands of your friends? Well, most wives give their husbands children."

Vladimir had dashed to his room, but he could still hear his parents arguing. He learned he was adopted that day and hated his father ever since.

"All I'm saying is that why can't we be a normal family?"

"Who wants to be normal? Aren't you happy with all the money I give you? Don't you like this new house? How about the car? Do your friends have the clothes you have?"

"Stop it, Anton, stop it."

Vladimir turned on the TV, loud.

The door flung open, forcing Vladimir back to reality. He shook his head, clearing away the memory as his tall, suit-wearing cousin popped in.

"Constantine, what's up?"

"I thought you'd be interested to know that Stacy Kestav did her first act today."

Pursing his lips, he nodded. "Cool. Anything special about her?"

"Dude, I had to test her first." He licked his lips like a vampire who just sucked blood.

"I knew you would."

"What's the matter with you?" Constantine pulled out a chair and sat across him. "You don't seem happy. Our viewers have doubled on the site, and the men here love our Russian women."

"Same shit, different day, Constantine." He sighed. "I've been doing this as far as I can remember."

"I'm new to all this, and I love it." Constantine put his feet on Vladimir's desk and shifted his gaze to the Central Park out the window. "We have a beautiful building with an amazing view, women at our beck and call, and money flowing out of our ears. Man, this is the
life
."

Vladimir didn't blink as he remembered his father's exact words: "The Marcovic family possesses power and prestige. We will evolve through generations and become more powerful than we can ever imagine."

"Okay, grouch, I'll leave you to your peace. I'll get you your favorite mango parfait from Ginny's Delights. That should cheer you up." He stood and exited the room.

Vladimir rolled his eyes.

Vladimir opened the drawer and removed his father's letter which he gave before he died.

Dear Vladimir,

I know I wasn't the father you expected me to be, and I blame myself for all my mistakes. You're a good son, and I'm entrusting the business to you. My only request is that you find Marcy Simmons and the daughter I never met and keep them safe.

Love,

Dad

Vladimir banged his hand on his desk.
Even on your deathbed, all you cared about was Marcy. I found Marcy, Dad, and I will find your dear daughter, and when I do, I'll kill them both.

Dana stood at the doorstep of Jake Mitchell's home, clutching an overnight bag with six sets of clothing she never would have dared to wear before.

U.S. Marshall Collins stood beside her, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. "Remember, you are to confide in nobody." He tucked a cell phone inside her purse. "I'm on speed dial one. Don't call your friends. This phone is only for emergency."

Dana rolled her eyes. "I get it. What makes you think I'd want to use that cell phone when it’s not a smart phone."

U.S. Marshall Collins raised his eyebrows. "Precisely."

Dana clutched her hair. Far too short. Gone were her long blond locks. Dyed jet black now. She didn't even recognize herself. Tugging her jumper, cursing under her breath despite her life being in danger. Not giving in to her shallow pursuits, Dana couldn’t help but feel like she was in dire need of a fashion emergency. She reached inside her pocket and clutched the locket necklace. There was no way U.S Marshall Collins would take that away from her.

A little girl peered from inside the window and waved her tiny hand.

A sweaty man with dark brown hair and a beard popped out the door. Dana and Jake locked gazes, and soon his stern look softened as he smiled.

"Jake Mitchell."

"Da—"

U.S. Marshall Collins cleared his throat. "This is Lucy."

"Please to meet you." Jake clutched her hand tight.

Dana swallowed hard, noting Jake's filthy nails. She turned to U.S. Marshall Collins.

"Sorry." Jake pulled his hand away. "The construction site has been cruel to my nails. Do come in."

U.S. Marshall Collins stayed put. "I gotta run. Lucy knows where to reach me."

Jake nodded and escorted Dana inside.

A cold shiver ran through Dana's spine as she stood in the hallway. She couldn’t bring herself to take another step when she glanced at the yellow wallpaper.
Is this a joke?
To her left was the living room with same boxed TV she had while growing up. Dana overheard the cartoon show and saw the little girl lying on her stomach with eyes were glued to the TV. She felt like she was revisiting memory lane, but this time, Dana was the outsider.

"I won't bite," Jake said.

"Sorry."

The little girl approached them and clutched Dana's hand. Dana froze when the little girl tugged her arm.

"What's your name?" Dana asked following the little girl and sat beside her, the girl curling up beside her.

Jake watched them from the hallway. "She's deaf."

Dana broke into a sweat. "I'm sorry."

He approached them in the living room. "My wife died during childbirth. Molly was born this way."

He still wore his wedding ring, and it brought back memories of her father. Dana had thought coming to New York would help her forget her past, yet here she was confronted with the reality she couldn't escape.

"I'm sorry." Digging in her pockets, she put on her faux wedding ring that U.S. Marshall Collins gave her earlier that day.

Jake shrugged. He faced Molly and while talking, made a sign that time was up and she needed to get ready for bed.

Molly pouted and held her hand up.

"All right, but only five more minutes." Jake turned to Dana. "Let me show you upstairs."

Dana trailed behind him, and they entered the master's bedroom. A humble queen-sized bed with no decorations occupied the room. Her heart sank like a deflated balloon when she glanced at the barely there closet.

"This is where you'll be staying." Jake muttered. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"Thank you." Dana laid her bag on the corner and sat on the bed. It sank down. She’ll be now sharing a room with a stranger who didn't even look at her. Dana had been used to men gawking and ogling her like a goddess, and she had to admit that she enjoyed the attention. But today, she felt that she was below ordinary. U.S. Marshall Collins and Adams would compliment her for the perfect disguise.

"There are fresh towels in the bathroom. I'm usually out at five. Our neighbor, Rachel, takes Molly to school every day. She's usually here at six and helps Molly get ready, but perhaps, tomorrow you can…"

"I can help her get ready and cook breakfast." Dana surprised she said that. Since when did she cook anybody breakfast? Breakfast for her was fresh fruit, but she knew Molly would prefer bacon and eggs or even pancakes.

"I made a list of things that Molly likes," he added.

She nodded, meeting his eyes and capturing the tenderness and pain he felt. Consumed with her own problems, Dana never asked U.S. Marshall Collins and Adams why Jake was part of the WITSEC.

"Thank you." He removed his shoes and set them aside. "Listen, please don't feel obliged to do this. I don't want you to think I'm doing you a favor. I can only imagine how difficult this may be for you, but your secret is safe with me."

Dana looked away. She thought of her mother living from state to state, trying to blend in like a chameleon, never knowing when she would be free. "What did you tell Molly about me?"

He grinned. "My daughter may be six, but she's quite sharp. I told her Daddy has a new wife who will be living with us."

Dana pursed her lips. "Were your friends surprised that you got married?"

"Sort of." He smirked. "I gotta tuck Molly to sleep. Feel at home, Lucy." He left her alone with her thoughts.

Dana pulled out her cell phone, contemplating if she should call Rob, but decided against it. She took the envelope and counted her money—enough to buy a beat-up car to get to work.

Perhaps she could imagine that she was on a vacation, that this was only temporary. Her ultimate goal was to save her mother and to track down Vladimir Markovic so she can kill him.

In one week, Dana had bought a Beetle, settled into her job at the library, and bonded with Molly. She even picked up a book on sign language.

Dana was frustrated to live in a small town like Blue Acres, New Mexico. Her research showed that only two hundred and six people lived here, and everybody seemed to be clannish. Nobody paid her any attention at the library, and the silence allowed her to spend time mapping out her escape. Each day, U.S. Marshall Collins checked up on her via phone like a guard checked on his prisoners. That's what she was—a prisoner with an identity crisis.

Today, she had visited the local grocery and almost asked the cashier if they sold organic produce. Instead, she bought fresh vegetables, vowing to introduce healthy eating for Jake and Molly. She was tired of the frozen pot roast and mashed potatoes Jake served for dinner, and she was thrilled when she found quinoa.

Dana slipped out of her car and opened the trunk to pick up her grocery bags. As she closed the trunk, she froze as a man smoking a cigarette stood in front of her. "You scared me. Can I help you?"

His dark eyes settled on her. "You know where the nearest gas station is?"

She avoided eye contact and pointed south. "Two blocks, make a right on the first street. You'll find a gasoline station at the corner."

He flicked his cigarette to the ground and went back to his pickup truck. "Thank you." His tires screeched as he drove off.

Dana caught her breath, her heart still pounding.

Rachel and Molly appeared moments later. Molly gave Dana a tight embrace and held out a picture of two dolphins. Rachel planted her hands stubbornly on her heavy hips while her plunging breasts looked like they were going to explode from her blouse.

Dana wished she could take the lady shopping. She placed her hands on her chest to show how much she loved Molly's drawing. Facing Rachel, she said. "You guys came home early today."

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. "Tuesdays and Thursdays are early release days. Didn't you look at the calendar posted on the refrigerator?"

"Right."
What a bitch?

"What's the matter with you? You look like you saw a ghost." Rachel peered inside the grocery bags. "What's all this? Is this what you're feeding Jake?" She shook her head. "Oh, let me tell you, he works hard at the construction site and this ain't going to feel him up."

With one hand holding Molly and the other hand carrying the grocery bags, Dana gave Rachel her heart-stopping smile. "Oh, Rachel, I don't know about you, but in our home, we like to spice things up. Didn't Jake tell you about Thursday nights?" She paused. "Oh right, I should remind you that Thursday nights are when we try a new recipe. Perhaps I can write it down for you. Would you like a magnet calendar for that?"

Rachel glared at her.

Serves her right!

***

Dana sipped her wine. Jake politely chewed two bites of the eggplant casserole she made and barely touched the quinoa. Molly stared at the food and refused to eat.

Dana exited to the kitchen and pulled out a box of Mac and cheese and French bread from the cupboard.

As she prepared the food, Jake squeezed her shoulders, touching her for the first time since they shook their hands. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." She put pressure on the bread knife as she sliced the bread into small pieces.

Jake rested his hands on hers. "Let me."

She watched his strong hands slice the bread and noticed how clean his fingernails were. They locked gazes. He flashed her a comforting smile, like the one her father used to give her mother when they would sit at the backyard during the summer listening to The Beatles song,
Yesterday
. It was her dad's way of telling her he would take care of her.