The Other Side of Perfect (8 page)

             
“What?”

             
“I won’t be Mrs. Wilson after this, will I? Jennifer is my name for now, until you people give me a new identity. Please, call me Jennifer for the time being. In other words, Agent Paul, it seems that witness protection is my only option.”

             
“Fair enough. And you can call me Steve, if you like.”

             
She nodded. “Thanks for everything you're doing for me and my family, Steve
             
Paul...”

TWELVE

As Jennifer loaded the kids and the few possessions they had into the unmarked stretched limo, she began to sigh.  T
hen, a chilling thought filled her mind. Everything and everyone she’d known and loved in this town would be cut off from her. 

What about Kyra, Robert, and Helga? What would happen to them? She knew she would miss them, but didn’t want to risk their lives or her kids’ lives.  Witness protection would keep her and the children safe, she hoped.

With the children buckled up, she crawled in beside them, followed by Agent Steven Paul. As he sat down, he placed his large black bag upon the seat and smiled with empathy. “I know you’re scared, but you’ll be fine. I promise!”

             
“Wait…you’re coming with us?”

             
“I am. I'm going to be your personal guard! Your personal protector.” he replied.

             
“Don’t you have a family?”

             
“Mom and dad know I’m going into hiding and they’ll worry, but it’s my job.”

             
“I see…” she was surprised. He seemed like such a solid man, ‘
doesn’t he have a
             
wife to go home to?'
she wondered.

             
“Driver, we’re ready…”

The journey was daunting and the kids were restless.  They stopped only to use the bathroom.  All food was eaten in the car, out of sight of the viewing public. 

             
“I can’t believe we can’t just get out and stretch our legs every now and then.”
             
Jennifer groaned. 

             
“I’m sorry, but it’s for your safety and the safety of your children.” Agent paul
             
was stern but polite.

             
“But, we’re miles away now.”

             
“There are many miles which the Grangers cover. In fact, the price…” then he
             
paused.

             
“I mean, it’s best for us to stay in the car until we get you somewhere safe.”

             
“Steve. Tell me the truth…”

             
“Truth? About what, ma'am?”

             
“How much danger am I in, really?” she asked.  “It’s just Mason looking for me,
             
isn’t it?”

             
“Unfortunately, no. The Grangers have put a price on your head, because bringing Mason down would cause their entire empire to crumble like a house of cards, and would ultimately cost them millions of dollars.  They aren't about to let him go down without a fight. Word travels fast in their circle, and it didn't take long for them to hear about what you saw at the bar.”

             
“So, there's a
hit
out on me?”

             
Steven didn’t want to answer, but the children were asleep and he figured it would
             
be safe enough to talk a little.

             
“There is… on you and…” he pointed to Chelsea.

             
“What!? Why her?”

             
“She’s attached to you, and that's all it takes. It may sound cliche, but these
             
people don't like to leave any loose ends.”

             
“And M.J.?”

             
“Mason has orders for M.J. to be returned to him safely.”

             
“So, he doesn’t want to kill M.J. Then, maybe he won’t kill this one, either.”

             
she said, pointing at her bulging belly.

             
“M.J. is his heir and will carry on the family name. At least, that’s how he’s put it
             
out there.”

             
“Over my dead body!” she scorned.

             
Her tone caused the children to stir, but they didn’t wake up.

             
“It'll be okay Jennifer, I promise.  I won’t let them hurt any of you!”

Suddenly, Jennifer began to feel much safer.  Steven was there to protect them for as long as it would take, and there didn't seem to be any give in his demeanor that would indicate to her that she needed to worry about things while they were under his charge.

The trip was long and finally after three car changes and an airplane ride, they’d stretched a significant amount of space between them and her now-estranged husband.  She was torn. She truly loved Mason at one time, but he hadn’t been the man she really thought he was.

Instead, he’d turned out to be a vicious killer, who lacked the ability to care about anything outside of his petty, criminal world.  It hurt deeply, and she wondered if she would ever find that love again. The way she loved Mason not so long ago seemed to be a once in a lifetime discovery, and now it was gone forever.

THIRTEEN

As they entered the tiny cabin, M.J. scooped peacefully in Steven’s arms, Jennifer turned on the lights.  It was late and everyone was exhausted from the drive. Chelsea, who was still half asleep, didn’t notice much as Jennifer led her to one of the bedrooms down the hall. Carefully and quietly she tucked her daughter in for the night, wishing she hadn’t had to leave poor Wally-B behind.

             
“Mama…are we home now?” Chelsea was groggy and disoriented.

             
“We are for now, sweetie..” Jennifer kissed her on the forehead and tucked her in.
             
“Night sweetie.  I love you…”

             
“Love you too Mama…”

Jennifer left the room and shut the door quietly behind her. Then, she tip-toed down the hall to find Steven already tucking M.J. into another bed, set up just for him.  She watched as he caringly placed him on the bed and covered him up.

             
“Looks familiar…” she whispered.

             
“Mason did the same.” she said, with tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe that
             
murderer is the same man I've loved for almost five.  He was so good to us.”

             
“He’s a master at disguising what he does and who he really is.” Steven said.  “You are a sweet soul, I can see that. But, you'll come to realize that Mason Wilson is nothing more than a cold-blooded hitman, who works for some pretty unsavory people.”

             
“I just don’t know how M.J. will ever understand this, or what I will tell this
             
baby.”

             
“You're a smart woman. When the time comes, you’ll figure it out.”

Steven was quite tall. At least six foot, four.  He had an obviously African American background, but it wasn’t the only nationality he had in his makeup. His darker skin and amazing green eyes set him apart from many others; his clean cut look, his black goatee, and sturdy facial features... but she wasn’t interested in all that right now.  She couldn’t be, right? She was escaping the horrors of a murderous man and this was not the time for moving on to another self-destructive relationship.

             
“I’m going to take a hot bath…” she said.

             
“Sounds fine.” he affirmed.  “You hungry?”

             
“What?”

             
“I cook.”

             
“You do?”

             
“Of course. And, we've got a fridge full of food. I’d be happy to fix us something
             
to munch on.  I don’t
             
know about you, but I am hungry!”

             
She hadn’t thought about eating all day, but the baby growing inside was in need
             
of some nourishment and sure, she felt hungry too. 

             
“Sounds good…” she said.  “I’ll be right out.”

***

After a relaxing soak in a luxurious tub, Jennifer slipped into her pajamas and robe and wandered to the kitchen, following the delicious aroma wafting in the air.  As she walked into the kitchen, she smiled brightly.

             
“Oh my!” She was impressed. On the table were all the delicious vittles that Steven had whipped up. He’d made them country fried steak, mashed potatoes with gravy and corn on the cob.  But what really caught her attention was the sugary fragrance that filled the air.  “What’s the cinnamon smell?” she asked.

             
“Apple cobbler. Thought it would go nice with the vanilla ice cream in the
             
freezer.”

             
“Damn, you read me like a book!” she said.  “Reminds me of the good old
             
cookin’ from home…”

             
“Alabama, right?”

             
“Right….” She replied curiously raising a brow. “How’d you know? Right, you're
             
with the FBI…”

             
“Actually, it was the accent.  It’s where my Mama’s from as well.”

             
“Nice.” she said.  “And your father, where’s he from?”

             
“Mississippi originally, but he eventually landed in prison and he's now serving a
             
life sentence, so he isn't really a part of my life.”

             
“Oh shoot, I’m sorry!”

             
“Nah, it’s alright.  He went to jail when I was really young. My step-father was amazing, though.  He took really good care of me and my Mama, kept me on the straight and narrow.” he winked at her knowingly. 

             
“Most of the time, anyway.” he smiled like a school boy.

             
“So, you’re not just an angel?” she asked.

             
“Nah. I do keep the halo in storage for special occasions, though.”

             
Jennifer smiled.

             
“It sure is nice of you to do this for us.”

             
“Oh, no problem.  Mama taught me to cook and I always loved it as a hobby.  It
             
was my other career choice, if I hadn't been called by the lure of law
             
enforcement.”

             
“Really?”

             
“Yep, policing or cooking…silly if you think about it, huh?”

             
“Not too far off, really?”

             
“How d’ya figure that?”

             
“You went from '
being a cook
' to '
catching the crook
.' Simple letter difference,
             
really.” Jennifer smiled wryly as she sat down and began to sip on her Tropicana
             
O.J.

             
“Here’s to me and Witness Protection, an unlikely affair to be sure.”