Pieces of the Past (Witness Security Book 1) (5 page)

“
Shh,” he repeated, then shrugged to indicate he really didn’t know, but wasn’t taking any chances.

“
This sucks!” Peyton stormed across the room. “I want to talk to Jordan. She’ll know what to do.”

Doug gazed at her calmly.
“Jordan is out of commission.
I
know what to do. Getting you to do it seems to be the hard part.”

“
It’s only her ankle, you said so yourself. I think she can still use a phone.”

“
She probably could, but I happen to know she’s heavily medicated at the moment to keep the pain under control until the surgery. She won’t be thinking clearly, and I’m not going to put her in that position. You need to have a little faith in me, and do as I ask.”

“
Like that’s going to happen.” Peyton pulled a cell phone from her pocket and began punching numbers.

“
Give it.” Doug held his empty hand out.

“
Peyton, do what he says,” Christine demanded.

“
No, Mom! We don’t know this guy. I’m not going anywhere with him and you shouldn’t either.” She continued to poke at her phone.

Doug sighed. Yesterday she
’d been too friendly, and today not friendly enough.
Teenagers.
He moved his sports coat aside so his Glock 27 .40 caliber pistol was visible in the holster. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Peyton froze a
t the same time Christine gasped.

“
Hate to be a bully about this, but you’ve got to understand. We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Both options works for me, but I suspect your mom would prefer your cooperation.”

“
You can’t threaten me!” The words were spunky but the girl’s voice wavered.

“
I’m not threatening you, just pointing out who’s in charge at this particular moment.” He motioned to the marshal badge clipped to his belt. “This badge says it’s me. I don’t like playing it tough, but this is too important. I won’t have you endangering your mom and your brother.”

Peyton burst into tears.

Christine sprang from the sofa and pulled her daughter into her arms. She stared at Doug accusingly. “Was that really necessary?”

He shrugged. He didn
’t like the show of force either, but the girl wasn’t cooperating, and this was serious business.

Peyton sniffled.
“We can’t leave again, Mom. I’m finally making friends, and Ryan…what am I supposed to tell Ryan?”

They both gazed up at Doug.
“What are we supposed to tell
everyone
?” Christine asked.

“
We’re going to get our story straight and then you’ll need to make some calls. For now,” he held his hand out to Peyton, “your phone, please.”

She placed it in his palm then
returned her face to the crook in her mother’s neck.

He continued,
“I’ve got some calls to make myself. I’d like you both to get packed, and someone needs to help Ethan. Take what you can fit into two suitcases each. The kids should bring whatever school books they have here. We’re going to be cooped up and bored, they can study at least some of the time. Ethan will want to bring that handheld game of his.”

“
He doesn’t go many places without it.” Christine sniffed and dabbed her eyes before doing the same to her daughter’s. “Come on, now. You heard what he said. Let’s get packed. We’ll make our calls after.”

“
Oh, Mom!” Peyton moaned as Christine led her from the room.

“
It’s all going to work out,” her mother reassured. “We’ll be okay.” Christine glanced back over her shoulder at Doug questioningly.

He offered a small smile and a nod.
“You’re all going to be just fine.” He watched them walk up the stairs then returned to his post at the front window. He truly believed that’s how it would end up. What happened in the short term remained to be seen. For now, the street appeared quiet.

Before he made his calls, Doug flipped on the TV and turned up the volume, just in case someone had managed to plant a bug.
He spoke to the officers keeping the house under surveillance, and was glad to hear all was calm on their end. Another phone call kept his boss apprised of the situation, and they worked out details for moving the family. With a final call he enlisted some help from a fellow marshal in getting the safe house ready for their arrival. “We’ll be there later tonight,” Doug told his co-worker Ben Markham.

“
I’ll have the place ready to go, with enough supplies to last a couple days. If you need to stay longer, make a list for me of what the family likes to eat.”

“
Aren’t you the happy homemaker?” Doug teased.

“
Might as well get what they want,” Ben protested jovially. “Since you’re sending me to the store anyway.”

“
Yeah, well just remember, I like Moon Pies. Ding Dongs, Ho Ho’s, whatever they got.”

“
Bet you’re crying in your beer that Twinkies are so hard to find now.”

“
Chocolate’s the key word, my friend. Had Twinkies been made with chocolate, I’d have never let the company go bankrupt. Oh, and Mountain Dew. None of that pesky diet stuff.”

Be
n chuckled. “You got it. Talk to you later, cowboy.”

“
Yeah, whatever.” Doug punched the off button and pocketed his phone. His coworkers liked to tease him because he lived in a secluded, rural area on the outskirts of Topeka, but he was far from a cowboy. He had enough land to keep horses, just not the time to care for them properly. He settled for an easy-going Golden Retriever named Daisy, who loved to swim when he found time to take her to one of the area lakes. She spent her days keeping his mother company and it looked like she’d be staying there the next few nights, as well. He’d call his mom later and let her know.

Christine set two bags in the doorway.
She nodded toward the blaring TV. “Can you hear it?”

He glanced at the
set as he strolled past. A bubbly blonde celebrity he couldn’t begin to name was going on and on about something that seemed vitally important, to her, anyway. He paused one step in front of Christine. “Gotta find out who’s doing what to whom.”

She smiled
weakly. “You don’t even know who that is, do you?”

Shrugging,
Doug grinned. “You got me. I’m afraid I haven’t kept up with the Kardashians, or whatever their name is.”

Her next smile seemed more genuine.
“Good attempt. Let me guess, you only know them because Kris married Bruce Jenner, right? See, when you have teenagers, they go, ‘Bruce who?’ Really makes you feel old.”

Doug gave her a quick once-over.
“You definitely don’t have to worry about that.” He knew the words were inappropriate the moment they left his lips. If he could have reached out and pulled them back, he would have, in a heartbeat. As it was, he stood there like a dummy while a slight red flush warmed his face.

Christine smiled. “That was sweet, in an awkward kind of way. I mean, this really isn’t the time—”

He raised both hands and stepped backwards.
“No, sorry, that was just the doofus in me coming out.”

She closed the gap between them.
“Jordan said you were goofy. Actually, she said you have a goofy smile. Personally, I think it’s kind of a nice smile.”

Crap.
The last thing he needed was her being nice to him. “Okay, now I know you bumped your head earlier. Can we forget this conversation and get back to the matter at hand please?”

“
I will
not
forget it, because your saying I don’t look old is the nicest thing anyone has said to me this week—if not this month. I
will
set it aside for now so I can go help Ethan pack. Then I need to think about dinner.” She turned and headed up the stairs, tossing a teasing glance back over her shoulder. “I don’t suppose we could have a pizza delivered?”

Doug rolled his eyes in response.

“Pretty much what I thought. Grilled cheese sandwiches it is. Hope you like them.”

“
I’ll eat anything.”

When she chuckled, he realized how bad that sounded. Coughing, he muttered,
“Grilled cheese is fine.” 

Christine paused on the second step.
“You okay?”

“
Of course I am.” He waved her off.

She nodded and continued up.

It took him another moment to realize he was staring at the sway of her hips as she ascended.

Doug shook his head to clear it and stomped into the kitchen. He knew his way around a grilled cheese sandwich. He could get them started. It
’d give him something productive to think about besides Christine’s shapely backside in a pair of jeans.

* * * *

Christine helped Ethan pack while attempting to fend off a dozen questions.

“
But where are we going, Mom? Should I bring my swimming suit? Will I still be able to go to Trent Brockston’s birthday party next weekend?”

His questions went in one ear and out the other, mainly because she didn
’t have the answers he needed. The child’s name triggered something in her, though. “Trent Brockston? Isn’t he the kid who threw up at lunch?”

“
His party’s not ‘til Sunday. He’ll be better by then. But we have to get him a present. He likes Megatroids and Battlebots. Can we go to the store after school tomorrow?”

“
I don’t know, sweetie.” Christine removed the baseball glove and cap he’d stuck in one suitcase. “Just the important stuff for now, please.”

Ethan gazed at her with a look of disbelief.
“This
is
important, Mom. It’s my best glove.”

Sighing, she shoved
the suitcase aside and sat on the bed. “E, listen to me. I know this is scary. But we have to go fast, and we need to travel light. Of course the glove is important to you, but it’s not baseball season so you won’t need it for a while.”

He slipped on the glove and punched his bare hand into it.
“It is in the majors.”

“
And you won’t be going to the ballpark for a while, either.” The words came out sharper than intended.

His gaze seared into hers.
“If we have to go fast, then why aren’t we going now?”

“
Doug says it’s better to travel when it’s dark.”

Ethan thought about that.
“Is he going with us?”

“
Sure he is.” She tried to sound positive but the question tripped her up. He was taking them, of course, but was he staying with them?
I have no idea
.

The remainder of the time packing she was torn between
‘I hope he is’ and ‘Surely not!’ It occurred to her that either possibility terrified her, both for different reasons.

T
ucking Ethan’s school books into one bag, she glanced around the room one last time. She resisted the urge to wonder if she’d ever see the house again. Thinking like that was too painful.

Christine gathered
his two suitcases and motioned for him to follow her downstairs. She set his things down next to hers and followed the wafting scent of melted cheese into the kitchen.

Doug stood at the stove, flipping sandwiches on the griddle.

She looked over his shoulder at his handiwork. The four sandwiches were toasted to golden perfection, a feat Larry had never mastered, she thought wryly. “What are you doing?”

He gazed at her sideways.
“Is that one of those rhetorical questions?”

“
I mean, why are you doing it? I was going to cook.”

“
I hope you’re not going to tell me that you fix yours fancy, or one of the kids won’t eat regular cheese or something like that. Because these are just plain, ordinary—”

She placed a hand on his forearm.
“They look wonderful. Thank you. I’ll throw together a salad and we’ll be set.”

“
Or chips,” he mumbled under his breath.

She smiled.
“Spoken like someone who’s
not
a parent. Parents are required to serve fruits and vegetables, that sort of thing.”

Doug flipped the sandwiches onto a waiting plate and took the griddle off the heat.
“Is that so? I guess I haven’t read the handbook. My Daisy likes chips. Cheetos are her favorite.”

Reaching for more plates in the cabinet, Christine froze when he mentioned his daughter. Before she could comment, Peyton and Ethan entered the kitchen.

“It smells good!” her son said.

“
And it’s going to taste
great
. Have a seat. Bring your appetites.” Doug motioned them to the table.