tenacious, it was no wonder he was attracted to her. He could rationalize that much at least. But, even if circumstances had been different, she deserved better than a man like him who, when faced with a choice between the career he felt called to and his own family and Amish heritage, had walked away and chosen work because the call on his heart to serve his country had been too loud for him to ignore.
Yes, he’d been eighteen, Mamm had just died, his older bruder and only sibling had told him he had to make a choice, and his pa had never been someone he’d felt like he could talk to. But it had been his choice and one he could never undo. He shuddered to think what a woman who had no family would ever think of a man who’d walked away from his.
He took a deep breath, pushed aside the unwanted thoughts and listened as she talked to Hunter. Truth was, he wasn’t sure what to expect. After all, she’d been pretty stubborn back at the safe house and dug her heels in pretty hard. To his surprise she was crisp, polite and thorough, going through exactly what she’d heard and seen without any embellishments or exaggerations.
“The man I saw looked exactly like Dexter Thomes,” she told Hunter, “even though my vantage point was obscured by smoke and low light. Clearly, if Dexter is still in prison, he must be a doppelgänger, but the similarity was uncanny. I researched everything I could find about Dexter Thomes before I contacted the feds and told them my suspicions he was Poindexter. His mother is deceased, his father is not listed on his birth certificate and he has no known siblings. If he had a secret twin I should’ve uncovered it.”
The women exchanged a few more words, and he noticed Celeste made a point of asking his boss to please let them know when the safe house had been secured and if the other marshals were all right. Then she handed the phone to Jonathan. He switched his earpiece back on.
“I’d like you to take her to the central Pennsylvania safe house outside of Altoona for one night,” Hunter said, “while we do another sweep of the Pittsburgh apartment and also confirm that Dexter Thomes is really still behind bars. Barring any unforeseen difficulties, she can move into the Pittsburgh apartment tomorrow.”
“Understood,” he nodded, feeling the lines of a frown wrinkle his forehead. The plan would add extra travel time and delay the start of her new identity and life. Not to mention the diversion would take them right through Amish country and painfully close to the family farm he’d left behind. He thanked his boss and they ended the call.
“Everything okay?” Celeste asked.
“I hope so,” he said. “She’ll keep us posted. We’re going to take a brief detour to another safe house for one night and then head on to your new apartment in Pittsburgh tomorrow.” He paused. Worry hovered in the depths of her eyes. “I have faith that Stacy and Karl will be okay. They’re very good agents. They know what they’re doing. And don’t worry. We’ll be at the temporary safe house later today, and if all goes well you’ll be in your new life tomorrow.”
They lapsed into silence as the truck drove through the winter morning. The sun rose higher. They passed farms with rolling fields and empty roadside wooden fruit and vegetable stands that reminded him of those his mother had expected him and his brother, Amos, to help out with during the summer.
“Did you grow up in the city or the country?” Celeste asked after a pause so long he wondered if she’d fallen asleep.
He guessed she was trying to change the subject away from Dexter, the fallen marshal and what had happened at the farmhouse. He was thankful for it. He pressed his lips together for a long moment and debated how to answer. He didn’t talk about his past for a very good reason. Most people knew nothing about the Amish, and the last thing he wanted was to listen to someone else’s uninformed opinion about the world he’d grown up in or answer questions about why he’d left. But maybe Celeste wasn’t like most people. “The country.”
“I always wanted to live in the country,” she said. “I don’t know why, but even though I’m a born-and-bred city girl, I always felt like something—God, maybe—was calling me to live in the country. When I was little, my parents used to rent this summer house, surrounded by nothing but trees and fields. I loved it. Then my parents both got cancer and we couldn’t afford it anymore. There were a lot of medical bills. I always told myself that one day I’d save enough to buy my own place outside the city, but Dexter Thomes took all that.” She looked up at him. “You know he stole all my money, too, after I turned him in? Took out multiple loans in my name, stole my identity and utterly destroyed my credit.”
He didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
“At least I knew the risk I was taking. I chose to hunt him down and tell the feds what I found. I put myself in his crosshairs. All the other people who had their life savings, college funds and retirement nest eggs stolen didn’t do anything. They just woke up one day to find their lives ruined. I just wish I’d found where he hid the money.” Her hands clenched into tight fists on her lap. “Not to mention it looks like he’s now using his stolen money to pay criminals to come after me.”
Instinctively, his hand reached out and brushed her arm. Her muscles were so tense she might as well have been carved from stone. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe no matter how many criminals he throws at you.”
Something fierce flashed in the depths of her eyes. “And who’s going to stop the next Rod Cormac from dying? Or get those people their money back?”
He didn’t have an answer to that. Then again, he wasn’t sure she was expecting one. After a while, he saw her eyes close and her lips move in silent prayer. He found prayer filing his own core, too.
God, I don’t reckon You and I are on speaking terms. But, please be with Rod’s family and friends right now. Comfort them in their sadness. Please, may no one else die because of Dexter and his crimes. And be there for Celeste, too. Help me keep her safe, protect her from anyone who would want to hurt her and make her dreams for the future still come true.
He’d seen the size of the new apartment he’d be moving her into tomorrow, and it was a long way away from a house in the country. He could still remember the day he’d stopped believing that God called anyone to anything. He’d been eight and had excitedly told his brother, Amos, who was then seventeen, that God had called him to be a cop. And Amos had told him that it wasn’t God—it was his own stubborn willfulness, because he couldn’t be both a cop and Amish.
He turned off the small rural highway onto a larger one. After a while, a large, expansive truck stop came into view. It was teeming with vehicles and several big chain restaurants. He pulled to a stop in a row in the back beside the big blue pickup. He cut the engine. “Now we grab our stuff, switch vehicles and get back on the road.”
They hopped out of the black truck and into the blue one, after he’d done a complete sweep of the vehicle for tracking devices or anything so much as a speck of dust out of place. Thankfully, it was clean. A moment later they were weaving their way back through the crowded parking lot.
The smell of doughnuts and coffee wafted toward them. Normally he’d have taken her in to grab a quick bite before hitting the road again. It was easy to be anonymous in a crowd, and there was no way any criminal organization could have eyes on every single rest stop of the highway, even if they happened to either figure out or guess what direction they were headed. After all, WITSEC expected their marshals to spend just a couple of weeks with witnesses helping them integrate safely into a community and letting them know where to reach help before leaving them to live their new lives. Starting over safely was the goal—not spending the rest of their lives hiding behind a closed door.
Still,
